 | The genius of oblivion ; and Other Original Poems |  |
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TO THE MEMORY OF THE HON. URIAH WILCOX, WHO DECEASED MARCH 18, 1822, æt. 72.
1.
Death reigns o'er all—the ghastly king,On his pale courser traversing,
Aims well his arrow, and the blow
Is sure to lay his victim low.
2.
Life weeps, hearts bleed; but fruitless all;Youth, beauty, health and virtue fall
An easy prey his power beneath;
Pride stoops, e'en valor yields to death.
3.
Age must be his—how weak to sigh,When nature cries, “'Tis gain to die”—
The faithful, pious, aged dead,
Are like the ripe shock harvested.
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4.
Yet worth long known, and long belov'd,The friend oft tried, still friendly prov'd;
Whose heart could feel, whose hand bestow;
Whose counsels soothe and lighten woe:
5.
When such are call'd, though great their gain,Can we, to mourn our loss refrain?
Ah! no, the selfish heart is prone
The loans of heaven to deem its own.
6.
So weep we, Wilcox, o'er thy grave;Could tears, could prayers avail to save,
Thou still would'st be, for thou wert one
Men honored, loved and leaned upon.
7.
And well didst thou thy influence gain,And well didst thou thy part sustain;
The orphans, widow's, poor man's cheek,
Thy fairest eulogy will speak.
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8.
Yet not in private life alone,Thy virtues or thy wisdom shone;
Parties discordant could agree
To trust in thine integrity.
9.
They mourn, but on thy dying even,Far dearer ties than these were riven;
Thy tenderest friend, thy children there;
They weep, but they may not despair:
10.
The husband and the father dies—The saint survives in yon bright skies,
From earth's low cares the spirit free,
Inhales pure immortality.
11.
When the last trump shall echo—“live!”And graves their mouldering tenants give
To that loud summons, whilst the sun,
In sackcloth, mourns his empire done:
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12.
The moon is blood, the globe is fireStars fall, the shrinking heavens retire;
And ruin only reigns, where man
Had boasted o'er his little span:
13.
Then, whilst before the judgment seatThe assembled universe shall meet;
Christians, like thee, will hear the word,
“Come, dwell forever with the Lord.
March 28, 1822.
| The genius of oblivion ; and Other Original Poems | |