Henriette. 
By Peacock, Thomas Love. 


Loud and long the church-bells ringing
Spread their signals on the air;
Tow'rds his Ellen lightly springing,
Faithless Edward hastens there.
Can he dare to wed another?
Can he all his vows forget?
Can he truth and conscience smother,
And desert his Henriette?

Pale remorse my steps attending,
Whither can I hope to fly?
When shall all my woes have ending?
Never, never, till I die!
Can the youth who once adored me,
Can he hear without regret,
Death has that repose restored me,
He has stol'n from Henriette?

Brightly smiles the summer-morning
On my Edward's nuptial day;
While the bells, with joyous warning,
Call to love and mirth away.
How this wretched heart is throbbing!
Ere the ev'ning sun shall set
Death shall ease my bosom's sobbing,
Death shall comfort Henriette.

Cruel youth, farewell for ever!
False as thou hast been to me,
Ne'er, till Fate my thread shall sever,
Can I turn my thoughts from thee.
Guilt and shame thy soul enslaving,
Thou mayst weep and tremble yet,
When thou see'st the willow waving
O'er the grave of Henriette!