The Black Eagle

Hark! yonder eagle lonely wails, His faithful bosom grief assails; Last night I heard him in my dream, When death and woe were all the theme. Like that poor bird I make my moan, I grieve for dearest Delia gone; With him to gloomy rocks I fly, He mourns for love and so do I.

'Twas mighty love that tamed his breast, 'Tis tender grief that breaks his rest; He droops his wings, he hangs his head, Since she he fondly loved was dead. With Delia's breath my joy expired, 'Twas Delia's smiles my fancy fired; Like that poor bird I pine, and prove Nought can supply the place of love.

Dark as his feathers was the fate, That robb'd him of his darling mate; Dimm'd is the lustre of his eye, That wont to gaze the sun-bright sky. To him is now for ever lost, The heartfelt bliss he once could boast; Thy sorrows, hapless bird, display, An image of my soul's dismay.