« السابقةمتابعة »
AID of my Love, sweet Genevieve !
In Beauty's light you glide along : Your
is like the star of eve,
soul a Voice there lives !
ILD Splendour of the various-vested Night!
Mother of wildly-working visions ! hail ! I watch thy gliding, while with watery light Thy weak eye glimmers through a fleecy veil;
And when thou lovest thy pale orb to shroud
FOR THE CHILDREN OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL.
'ERAPHS! around th’ Eternal's seat who
throng With tuneful extasies of praise: O! teach our feeble tongues like yours the song
Of fervent gratitude to raise
To dwell on that Almighty name
Th’all-gracious Parent hears the wretch's
prayer ; The meek tear strongly pleads on high ; Wan Resignation struggling with despair
The Lord beholds with pitying eye;
Disease on earth its head recline,
She comes! she comes ! the meek eyed power I see
With liberal hand that loves to bless ; The clouds of sorrow at her presence
Rejoice! rejoice! ye children of distress ! The beams that play around her head Thro’ want's dark vale their radiance spread :
incultur'd mind imbibes the ray, And Vice reluctant quits th' expected prey.
Cease, thou lorn mother! cease thy wailings
drear; Ye babes! the unconscious sob forego , Or let full gratitude now prompt the tear
Which erst did sorrow force to flow. Unkindly cold and tempest shrill
In life's morn oft the traveller chill, But soon his path the sun of Love shall warm; And each glad scene look brighter for the storm!
TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY.
Oiknew net where, but "rwas some faery place)
Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails outspread,
A sister and a brother!
That far outstripp'd the other;
For he, alas! is blind !
MONODY ON THE DEATH OF
WHAT a wonder seems the fear of death,
Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep, Babes, Children, Youths, and Men, Night following night for threescore years and ten! But doubly strange, where life is but a breath To sigh and pant with, up Want's rugged steep.
Away, Grim Phantom! Scorpion King, away!
Child ! Home, weary Truant, home!
Thee, Chatterton ! these unblest stones protect
Yet oft, perforce, ('tis suffering Nature's call)
that heaven-born Genius so should fall; And oft, in Fancy's saddest hour, my soul
Averted shudders at the poisoned bowl.
Thy corse of livid hue ;
Is this the land of song-ennobled line ?
Poured forth his lofty strain ?
And o'er her darling dead
Pity hopeless hung her head, While “ mid the pelting of that merciless storm," Sunk to the cold earth Otway's famished form !
Sublime of thought, and confident of fame,
Light-hearted youth! aye, as he hastes along,
He meditates the future song,
And while the numbers flowing strong
In eddies whirl, in surges throng,
And now his cheeks with deeper ardours flame,
Avon, a river near Bristol; the birth-place of Chatterton.