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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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 I. 
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 VII. 
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 IX. 
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 XI. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

I.

A Swain, whose soul the tuneful nine inflame,
As to his western goal the sun declin'd,
Sung to the list'ning shades no common theme;
While the hoarse breathings of the hollow wind,
And deep resounding surge in concert join'd.
Deep was the surge, and deep the plaintive song,
While all the solemn scene in mute attention hung.

95

Nor thou, fair victim of so just a woe!
Tho' still the pangs of nature swell thy heart,
Disdain the faithful muse; whose numbers flow
Sacred, alas! to sympathetic smart:
For in thy griefs the muses claim a part;
'Tis all they can, in social tears to mourn,
And deck with cypress wreaths thy dear paternal urn.
The swain began, while conscious echoes round
Protract to sadder length his doleful lay.
Roll on, ye streams, in cadence more profound:
Ye humid vapours, veil the face of day:
O'er all the mournful plain
Let night and sorrow reign:
For Pan indignant from his fields retires,
Once haunts of gay delight;
Now every sense they fright,
Resound with shrieks of woe, and blaze with fun'ral fires.