Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock Together with an Essay on the Education of the Blind. To Which is Prefixed A New Account of the Life and Writings of the Author |
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On the Death of STELLA;
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 | Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock |  |
On the Death of STELLA;
A PASTORAL.
Inscribed to her Sister.
See on those ruby lips the trembling breath,
Those cheeks now faded at the blast of death;
Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before;
And those love-darting eyes shall roll no more.
Those cheeks now faded at the blast of death;
Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before;
And those love-darting eyes shall roll no more.
Now purple ev'ning ting'd the blue serene,
And milder breezes fann'd the verdant plain;
Beneath a blasted oak's portentous shade,
To speak his grief, a pensive swain was laid:
Birds ceas'd to warble at the mournful sound;
The laughing landskip sadden'd all around:
For Stella's fate he breath'd his tuneful moan,
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
And milder breezes fann'd the verdant plain;
Beneath a blasted oak's portentous shade,
To speak his grief, a pensive swain was laid:
Birds ceas'd to warble at the mournful sound;
The laughing landskip sadden'd all around:
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Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
“O thou! by stronger ties than blood ally'd,
Who dy'd to pleasure, when a sister dy'd;
Thou living image of those charms we lost,
Charms which exulting nature once might boast!
Indulge the plaintive muse, whose simple strain
Repeats the heart-felt anguish of the swain:
For Stella's fate thus flow'd his tuneful moan,
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
Who dy'd to pleasure, when a sister dy'd;
Thou living image of those charms we lost,
Charms which exulting nature once might boast!
Indulge the plaintive muse, whose simple strain
Repeats the heart-felt anguish of the swain:
For Stella's fate thus flow'd his tuneful moan,
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
Are happiness and joy for ever fled,
Nor haunt the twilight grove, nor sunny glade?
Ah! fled for ever from my longing eye;
With Stella born, with Stella too they die:
Die, or with me your brightest image moan;
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
Nor haunt the twilight grove, nor sunny glade?
Ah! fled for ever from my longing eye;
With Stella born, with Stella too they die:
Die, or with me your brightest image moan;
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
Sweet to the thirsty tongue the chrystal stream,
To nightly wand'rers sweet the morning beam;
Sweet to the wither'd grass the gentle show'r;
To the fond lover sweet the nuptial hour;
Sweet fragrant gardens to the lab'ring bee,
And lovely Stella once was heav'n to me:
That heav'n is faded, and those joys are flown,
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
To nightly wand'rers sweet the morning beam;
Sweet to the wither'd grass the gentle show'r;
To the fond lover sweet the nuptial hour;
Sweet fragrant gardens to the lab'ring bee,
And lovely Stella once was heav'n to me:
That heav'n is faded, and those joys are flown,
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
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Ah! where is now that form which charm'd my sight?
Ah! where that wisdom, sparkling heav'nly bright?
Ah! where that sweetness like the lays of spring,
When breathe its flow'rs, and all its warblers sing?
Now fade, ye flow'rs, ye warblers, join my moan;
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling done?
Ah! where that wisdom, sparkling heav'nly bright?
Ah! where that sweetness like the lays of spring,
When breathe its flow'rs, and all its warblers sing?
Now fade, ye flow'rs, ye warblers, join my moan;
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling done?
Ah me! tho' winter desolate the field,
Again shall flow'rs their blended odours yield;
Again shall birds the vernal season hail,
And beauty paint, and music charm the vale:
But she no more to bless me shall appear;
No more her angel voice enchant my ear;
No more her angel smile relieve my moan:
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
Again shall flow'rs their blended odours yield;
Again shall birds the vernal season hail,
And beauty paint, and music charm the vale:
But she no more to bless me shall appear;
No more her angel voice enchant my ear;
No more her angel smile relieve my moan:
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
He ceas'd; for mighty grief his voice supprest,
Chill'd all his veins, and struggled in his breast;
From his wan cheek the rosy tincture flies;
The lustre languish'd in his closing eyes:
Too soon shall life return, unhappy swain!
If, with returning sense, returns thy pain.
Hills, woods, and streams, resound the shepherd's moan;
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
Chill'd all his veins, and struggled in his breast;
From his wan cheek the rosy tincture flies;
The lustre languish'd in his closing eyes:
Too soon shall life return, unhappy swain!
If, with returning sense, returns thy pain.
Hills, woods, and streams, resound the shepherd's moan;
Love, beauty, virtue, mourn your darling gone!
| Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock | |