Page:Poems - Sayers (1792).djvu/53

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MOINA.

MOINA.
Full fifty nights have cast their gloom around me
Since first the hated Saxon tore me trembling
From parents, kindred, and a much lov'd land—
Yet loss of parents, kindred, and my country
Scarce move a soul opprest with keener grief;
In the loud strife of arms, in fields of blood,
My Carril fiercely fighting for his Moina
Fell—fell by Harold's arm, and smiling hope
For ever fled my breast—here, here he lives,

And