THE SONG AT MARIA'S GRAVE. IN TWO PARTS. Anne Hunter (née Home) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Hunter, Anne Home (Mrs. John), 1742-1821. Poems, by Mrs. John Hunter. London Printed for T. Payne, Mews Gate, by T. Bensley, Bolt Court, Fleet Street 1802 pp. 114-122.

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THE SONG AT MARIA'S GRAVE . IN TWO PARTS .
[ PART I . ] COME , gentle maidens , gather round . Bring sprigs of rosemary and rue , Strew virgin lilies on the ground , And the wild rose embalm'd in dew . Emblem of hope , upon the thorn Their transient beauties bloom and die , While yet their sweets perfume the morn , They on Maria's grave shall lie . For she was fair , as fairest flower , And gentle as the breath of peace ; But now her charms exist no more , And soon their memory shall cease . I raise the song , a name so dear From cold oblivion's power to save ; Come , gentle maidens , round , and hear The mournful story at her grave . Methinks I see her on the beach , Her eyes still fixed upon the sea ; Her thoughts beyond the ocean reach . O Henry , they were fix'd on thee . Above her sex's little arts , Their feign'd contempt , or proud disdain , She own'd the sympathy of hearts , She lov'd , and was belov'd again . But glory's voice young Henry heard , Fortune and honours wait the brave ; The youth Maria's heart preferr'd , Resolv'd to dare the hostile wave . Dauntless to seek his country's foes , And bravely guard her injur'd rights , Warm from the heart his courage flows , For love and honour Henry fights . But who can paint the anxious days , The ling'ring , long , and heavy hours , The silent tears affection pays , The sad forebodings love endures ? The rushing winds at dead of night , Which shake her casements slender frame , Disturbs her rest with wild affright , For evils yet without a name . In dismal dreams they meet again , Again she hears his parting sighs ; The sails are spread , he skims the main , And far the bounding vessel flies . She wakes , and to the sounding shore At early dawn her steps would move , Counting the days of absence o'er ; How slow their pace appears to love ! I see her standing on the beach , Her eyes still fix'd upon the sea ; Her thoughts beyond the ocean reach ; O , Henry , they were fix'd on thee ! Long absent on the wat'ry waste , In Britain's cause his sword he drew ; And vanquish'd foes his fame increas'd , While with his fame his fortune grew . Nor glory's pride , nor fiercest war , Maria from his thoughts could part ; Though absent long , and distant far , She still was nearest to his heart . From ev'ry port , with anxious care , His kind attentive fondness wrote ; His love would still some gift prepare , As witness to his constant thought . The last remembrance she receiv'd Her cheek with rosy blushes spread ; A trembling hope her soul deceiv'd , While these soft words she fault'ring read . " To thee , Maria , thee alone , Each tender thought delights to fly , This constant heart is all thy own . For thee I live , for thee could die . " For thy dear sake I still pursue Unceasing toils , and think them sweet ; For now the time appears in view , When we again in joy shall meet . " Fly fast , ye hours ! with winged haste , Propitious gales , come waft me o'er ! Swift let me cross the wat'ry waste , To meet my love ! and part no more ! "
PART II . I saw Maria on the beach , Her eyes were fix'd upon the sea ; Her thoughts beyond the waters reach , O , Henry ! she expected thee ! Expected thee , her hand to claim , Thy faithful passion's sacred right ; Hope saw thee crown'd with wealth and fame , And love exulted in the sight . Gay , flatt'ring hope ! how bright you seem , Gilding some joy beyond the hour ! A painted cloud , a fairy dream , A rainbow in a summer's shower . Sudden distracting terrors rise , Unthought-of ills their hopes assail ; A dark and dreadful rumour flies , And time confirms the horrid tale . The demon of the trembling west With ruthless fury rears his head From the Atlantic's troubled breast , And dire destruction round is spread . He rises on the water's roar , And death and desolation brings ; The boiling sea , the burning shore , He sweeps with unrelenting wings . The warring elements at strife , Seem wild with rage , and mad with power ; And thousands sunk from light and life , The victims of that fatal hour . Brave Henry's gallant vessel lay , Ill starr'd ! near that devoted coast . How shall I tell ; nor need I say , That he , and all his hopes were lost . He fell by no proud conqu'ring foe , That thought was sure in mercy giv'n ; And patience must support the blow Inflicted by the hand of heaven . I saw her seated on the beach , Her eyes were fix'd upon the sea , Her thoughts the depths of ocean reach ; O , Henry ! still they follow'd thee . No loud complaints were heard to rise , 'Twas vast unutterable woe ! Silent her tongue , and from her eyes The dews of sorrow ceas'd to flow . The lustre of her eye was gone , The roses of her cheek were dead ; The faded lily reign'd alone , And all the charm of youth was fled . Pining in thought , a swift decay Pervaded ev'ry vital part ; The bloom of beauty dropt away , The canker-worm was in her heart . Still I lament thee , gentle shade , Though thy sad pilgrimage is o'er ; Still shall I weep for thee , sweet maid , Though thy dim eyes can weep no more . And oft , at dewy fall of night , I seek the churchway path alone , And by the moon's pale trembling light Read thy lov'd name on this white stone . This Ballad was founded on a true story . The event took place in 1785 , or near about that time . Maria was a native of Cornwall , where she died in 1786.