Treasure Island

Louisa Stuart Costello

(1799-1870 / France)

Lines.—When this heart is cold and still


When this heart is cold and still,
And can throb for thee no more;
When it wakes not to the thrill
Of the harp's wild chord;
Nor can e'en afford
A sigh to the days of yore;

Then come to my silent tomb,
Which the breeze will murmur over:
Where reigns the deepest gloom—
Where the bat flits by
And the ravens cry—
Thou shalt the spot discover.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

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