 | Landscapes in verse |  |
Hail to the happier parents!—they are laid
In their pure graves, beside their angel child:
And seest thou not, that He whom late we left,
At the dread sound of Fanny's passing bell,
At the dread view of Fanny's coffin'd pall,
Sunk on the bare foot of yon aged tree,
Was poor Agenor's self, who phrenzied fled
Ere Fanny for her last home from the cot
Was mov'd along the firs, where first began
Our tender tale:—O frail mortalily!
Yet from our tender tale this moral glean:—
Ah learn! even in the bosom of delight,
To take each proffer'd good with pious awe:
Should fair Felicity inviting hold
Her nectar'd cup full flowing to thy lip,
Let not pale Fear reject the smiling boon,
Lest evils may ensue—but should they come,
Should Hope's gay sun which suckles every flower
In life's mix'd garden, his bless'd beams withdraw,
(Even as the blossoms promise golden fruit)
O think on Fanny's and Agenor's life;
By their try'd faith and goodness shape thine own;
Then, tho' like theirs, thy death be terrible,
As dark upon thy startled soul it strike,
Here thou mayst suffer:—but there is no heaven,
( And that there is, earth, skies, and deeps, declare)
There is no God, if goodness such as theirs
Meet not eternal recompence above.
In their pure graves, beside their angel child:
And seest thou not, that He whom late we left,
At the dread sound of Fanny's passing bell,
At the dread view of Fanny's coffin'd pall,
Sunk on the bare foot of yon aged tree,
Was poor Agenor's self, who phrenzied fled
Ere Fanny for her last home from the cot
Was mov'd along the firs, where first began
Our tender tale:—O frail mortalily!
Yet from our tender tale this moral glean:—
Ah learn! even in the bosom of delight,
49
Should fair Felicity inviting hold
Her nectar'd cup full flowing to thy lip,
Let not pale Fear reject the smiling boon,
Lest evils may ensue—but should they come,
Should Hope's gay sun which suckles every flower
In life's mix'd garden, his bless'd beams withdraw,
(Even as the blossoms promise golden fruit)
O think on Fanny's and Agenor's life;
By their try'd faith and goodness shape thine own;
Then, tho' like theirs, thy death be terrible,
As dark upon thy startled soul it strike,
Here thou mayst suffer:—but there is no heaven,
( And that there is, earth, skies, and deeps, declare)
50
Meet not eternal recompence above.
| Landscapes in verse | |