Madmoments: or First Verseattempts By a Bornnatural. Addressed to the Lightheaded of Society at Large, by Henry Ellison |
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GRAYHAIRS. |
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 | Madmoments: or First Verseattempts |  |
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GRAYHAIRS.
1.
Can Time accord a fitter ornamentTo Age's brows, than its own silver hairs:
Brought by his Messengers, the winged Years,
A mark of his high Approbation meant?
The seasonable Gray. by hours wellspent
Strew'd with a gentle hand, which Wisdom wears
As her best token: by no idle fears
Disturbed, no tremblings thro' the calm heart sent,
Where sublime Faith sits firm upon her throne:
Counting in serene hope, as past they fly,
The Sandgrains, lessening gradual, one by one:
And looking on the grave with steadfast eye,
'Till worms and darkness vanish, and alone
Remains the sense of Immortality!
2.
Gray hairs are then like to a holy Wreath,By Angels wove for Virtue here below!
But oh! how ill do they become the brow,
When prematurely touched, and by the Breath
Of Dissipation whitened! when beneath
The temples, where no sanctity they throw,
We trace the Feverpulse of passions low,
Desires writhing in the grasp of Death,
Yet prurient still: engrained by habitude,
Tho' able scarce to warm the halffroze blood:
Oh! then they are a bitter mockery,
Placed there by time in his most scornful mood,
A sign and token of his Triomph, by
The Voice of Conscience sanctioned inwardly!
| Madmoments: or First Verseattempts | |