Louisa Stuart Costello
Louisa Stuart Costello Poems
The Traveller In Africa
A Dramatic Sketch
A Forest. Night.
Alone, amidst the interminable forest!—
Where shall I seek for aid! my weary limbs,
Torn by the briars, and wasted with fatigue,
Refuse to bear me further.
Black, rayless, midnight reigns; and the thick dew
Distils its baleful drops upon my head.
And, hark! the topmost branches of the trees,
With dismal moan, now louder and more near,
Shake in the rushing wind! It comes, it comes!—
The dread tornado!—is there no escape!—
Lines.—i Cannot Sleep
I cannot sleep—my nights glide on
In one unbroken thought of thee;
And when the gloomy shades are gone,
I start the dawning light to see.
And as I watch the rising morn