The Poetry Corner

A Roundelay.

By John Carr (Sir)

Wide thro' the azure blue and bright Serenely floats the lamp of night; The sleeping waves forget to move, And silent is the cedar grove; Each breeze suspended seems to say - "Now, Leline, for thy Roundelay!" My Delia's lids are clos'd in rest; Ah! were her pillow but my breast! Go, dreams! one gentle word impart, In whispers place me by her heart; While near her door I'll fondly stray, And sooth her with my Roundelay. But, ah! the Night draws in her shade, And glimm'ring stars reluctant fade: Yet sleep, my love! nor may'st thou feel The pangs which griefs like mine reveal: Adieu! for Morning's on his way, And bids me close my Roundelay.