ON A YOUNG MAN DYING ON THE EVE. WITH Contrite tears, and agony of prayer, Tho' for ourselves, and not for thee we mourn, For Death, which every tie of earth unbinds, Can ne'er dissolve the " marriage of pure minds." TO THE NAUTILUS. WHERE Ausonian summers glowing By many a land of ancient glory, Leap along with gladsome buoyance, Dost thou appear, In faery pinnace gaily flashing, Through the white foam proudly dashing, The joyous playmate of the buxom breeze, The fearless fondling of the mighty seas. Thou the light sail boldly spreadest, Thou nor wreck nor foeman dreadest, Small Marinere, For though the tides, with restless motion, Bear thee to the desert ocean, Far as the ocean stretches to the sky, 'Tis all thy own, 'tis all thy empery. Lame is art, and her endeavour Still improving, perfect never; Lore, which man should study lowly : Small Marinere, Are thine within thy pearly dwelling,— Obedience, perfect, simple, glad and free, SWEET Love, the shadow of thy parting wings. Once made most sweet, of sweetness now bereaven; SONG. SAY-what is worse than blank despair; "Tis that sick hope too weak for flying, That plays at fast and loose with care, And wastes a weary life in dying. Though promise be a welcome guest, "Tis but a cuckoo voice at best, The joy of spring, scarce heard in summer. Then now consent, this very hour, Is comfort to the heart that's broken. The heart, whose will is from above, SONG. SHE is not fair to outward view Her loveliness I never knew Until she smil'd on me; Oh! then I saw her eye was bright, But now her looks are coy and cold, Her very frowns are fairer far, EPITAPH. ON A MOTHER AND THREE INFANTS. FROM God they came, to God they went again; No sin they knew, and knew but little pain: And here they lie, by their fond mother's side, Who lived to love and lose them, then she died. VOL. I. F |