 | Remains of the Rev. Carlos Wilcox . |  |
In such a night, 'twould sadden mirth to hear
The lulling sound of distant waterfalls
By intervening hills so broke and spread
That whence it comes the ear no more discerns,
Seeming diffused alike on every side,
A gentle murmur filling all the air;
As if all nature charg'd with life intense,
Breathed softly in one universal sigh,
The thrilling tones of an Eolian harp
In such a night would half entrance the sad,
Its deep vibrations, shook from chords that quake
As with the touch of quiv'ring fingers hid
From mortal sight, would sink into the soul
And half persuade fond fancy that the hand
Of some departed sympathizing friend
Dearly beloved and deeply mourned, was there.
The lulling sound of distant waterfalls
By intervening hills so broke and spread
That whence it comes the ear no more discerns,
Seeming diffused alike on every side,
A gentle murmur filling all the air;
As if all nature charg'd with life intense,
Breathed softly in one universal sigh,
The thrilling tones of an Eolian harp
In such a night would half entrance the sad,
Its deep vibrations, shook from chords that quake
156
From mortal sight, would sink into the soul
And half persuade fond fancy that the hand
Of some departed sympathizing friend
Dearly beloved and deeply mourned, was there.
Now drowned in sweet repose are man and beast,
While swift and silent as on angel's wings
Time by them flies. [OMITTED]
While swift and silent as on angel's wings
Time by them flies. [OMITTED]
'Tis midnight: o'er the marshy meadows rest
Damp vapours thin and pale; while overhead
Hangs far aloft beneath the firmament,
And just beneath, a cloudy canopy,
Milk-white and curdled in thick spots, oft called
The seeds of coming rain, but to the eye
Of fancy seeming like a flock of swans
In mid-air hovering still. All nature sleeps
Beneath a tranquillizing shower of light.
O what a night for grief to watch and weep.
Damp vapours thin and pale; while overhead
Hangs far aloft beneath the firmament,
And just beneath, a cloudy canopy,
Milk-white and curdled in thick spots, oft called
The seeds of coming rain, but to the eye
Of fancy seeming like a flock of swans
In mid-air hovering still. All nature sleeps
Beneath a tranquillizing shower of light.
O what a night for grief to watch and weep.
| Remains of the Rev. Carlos Wilcox . | |