Nugae Canorae Poems by Charles Lloyd ... Third Edition, with Additions |
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LINES
ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. |
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 | Nugae Canorae |  |
20
LINES ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.
1795.
The fluttering gale has sunk to rest,
The sloping sun-beams feebly glow,
Such zephyrs breathe as sooth the breast,
Such radiance pours as softens woe.
The sloping sun-beams feebly glow,
Such zephyrs breathe as sooth the breast,
Such radiance pours as softens woe.
The languid notes of lonesome bird,
From yonder coppice sweetly wind;
And thro' the scene are faintly heard
Sounds that are silence to the mind.
From yonder coppice sweetly wind;
And thro' the scene are faintly heard
Sounds that are silence to the mind.
As slow my devious feet advance
Thro' Eve's unrealizing gloom,
Mine eyes peruse with eager glance
An Infant's solitary tomb.
Thro' Eve's unrealizing gloom,
Mine eyes peruse with eager glance
An Infant's solitary tomb.
'Tis simple! yet the green sod here
That seems to court no stranger's eye,
Than marble claims a tenderer tear,
Than sculpture moves a softer sigh!
That seems to court no stranger's eye,
Than marble claims a tenderer tear,
Than sculpture moves a softer sigh!
21
A lonely primrose lifts its head,
And here and there pale violets peep;
And, if no venal tears are shed,
The dews from many a daisy weep.
And here and there pale violets peep;
And, if no venal tears are shed,
The dews from many a daisy weep.
And Pity here is often seen
To prompt the nameless pilgrim's sighs,
For Pity loves to haunt the scene
Where Grief is stript of Art's disguise.
To prompt the nameless pilgrim's sighs,
For Pity loves to haunt the scene
Where Grief is stript of Art's disguise.
I mark'd the spot!—and felt my soul
Enwrapp'd in Sorrow's softest mood;
The pensive shade that o'er me stole,
It could not lightly be withstood.
Enwrapp'd in Sorrow's softest mood;
The pensive shade that o'er me stole,
It could not lightly be withstood.
I mark'd the spot—and thought how soon
Each earthly blessing is resign'd!
E'en then I saw life's dearest boon
Consign'd to dust—to death consign'd!
Each earthly blessing is resign'd!
E'en then I saw life's dearest boon
Consign'd to dust—to death consign'd!
And while a parent's hopes and fears,
To fabling Fancy forceful swell;
And while a parent's anxious tears,—
These accents negligently fell:—
To fabling Fancy forceful swell;
And while a parent's anxious tears,—
These accents negligently fell:—
22
“Thou little tenant of the grave,
“Sleep on, untouch'd by mortal strife,
“Unknown the cares that man must brave,
“The ills, that only end with life!
“Sleep on, untouch'd by mortal strife,
“Unknown the cares that man must brave,
“The ills, that only end with life!
“Of eager hope, unconscious thou,
“Unconscious thou of grief's extreme:
“To thee—an everlasting now!
“To thee—a sleep without a dream!
“Unconscious thou of grief's extreme:
“To thee—an everlasting now!
“To thee—a sleep without a dream!
“Sleep on, poor child!—a fellow worm,
“Who's prov'd for thee life's joy and care,
“Would fain forego the useless term,
“He's tasted life—and death's his prayer.
“Who's prov'd for thee life's joy and care,
“Would fain forego the useless term,
“He's tasted life—and death's his prayer.
“To thee, poor child! ere grief is brought
“To vex thy soul, oblivion's given!—
“Oh! if the grave could boast of thought,
“That thought would make the grave—a “heaven!”
“To vex thy soul, oblivion's given!—
“Oh! if the grave could boast of thought,
“That thought would make the grave—a “heaven!”
Farewell, sweet spot! my soul I feel
Entranc'd in sorrow's softest mood;
These pensive shades that o'er me steal,
They shall not lightly be withstood.
Entranc'd in sorrow's softest mood;
These pensive shades that o'er me steal,
They shall not lightly be withstood.
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