To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
O, Woman! In our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
A light on Marmion's visage spread, And fired his glazing eye: With dying hand, above his head, He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted Victory!- Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on! Were the last words of Marmion.
A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew.