The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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ELEGIAC STANZAS TO FIDELE,
IN CYMBELINE. |
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
135
ELEGIAC STANZAS TO FIDELE, IN CYMBELINE.
Fear no more the scorching heat;
Fear no more the driving show'r:
Life has tir'd thy pilgrim feet;
Death has nipt thy budding flow'r.
Fear no more the driving show'r:
Life has tir'd thy pilgrim feet;
Death has nipt thy budding flow'r.
Pains nor aches shall vex thy form,
Nor penury with gripe of steel;
Frozen death's benumbing storm,
Has marr'd that breast that wont to feel.
Nor penury with gripe of steel;
Frozen death's benumbing storm,
Has marr'd that breast that wont to feel.
Yet shall fond Friendship, cherub mild,
With balmy wing defend thy tomb;
And hov'ring love, a weeping child,
Rove sadly through the sacred gloom.
With balmy wing defend thy tomb;
And hov'ring love, a weeping child,
Rove sadly through the sacred gloom.
Fond widows, of their loves bereav'd,
Shall o'er the fresh sod pensive bend;
And village maids untimely grieved,
Thy sweetly-silent scene attend.
Shall o'er the fresh sod pensive bend;
And village maids untimely grieved,
Thy sweetly-silent scene attend.
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Full many a prayer shall o'er thy clay,
Devoutly breathe from artless lip;
Full many a moan, at close of day,
From plaintive bosom heaving deep.
Devoutly breathe from artless lip;
Full many a moan, at close of day,
From plaintive bosom heaving deep.
Oft as the shepherd passes by,
Shall sorrow catch each mourning wind;
And innocence, with incense sigh,
Cast a long ling'ring look behind.
Shall sorrow catch each mourning wind;
And innocence, with incense sigh,
Cast a long ling'ring look behind.
Here shall no dismal exil'd fay,
In vap'rish shroud terrific drest,
Affright thy votive train away,
And scare the tender hermit's breast.
In vap'rish shroud terrific drest,
Affright thy votive train away,
And scare the tender hermit's breast.
But gleams of sunshine gild the place,
When light sinks fainting in the west;
And morning's smilings purple grace
With orient dawn thy peaceful rest.
When light sinks fainting in the west;
And morning's smilings purple grace
With orient dawn thy peaceful rest.
On the green turf of twinkling dew,
That holds the loveliest frame below,
Shall Spring assort her harebells blue,
And fling her gems of living snow.
That holds the loveliest frame below,
Shall Spring assort her harebells blue,
And fling her gems of living snow.
The lark shall here begin his song
Amid the awful stillness round,
And cooing turtles frequent throng,
The branch that marks the secret ground
Amid the awful stillness round,
And cooing turtles frequent throng,
The branch that marks the secret ground
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Meanwhile thy poet's
floating shade,
Shall from the womb of night emerge,
Review thy rites most duly pay'd,
And sing his dear Fidele's dirge.
Shall from the womb of night emerge,
Review thy rites most duly pay'd,
And sing his dear Fidele's dirge.
Fear no more the scorching heat;
Fear no more the driving show'r:
Life has tir'd thy pilgrim feet,
Death has nipt thy budding flow'r.
Fear no more the driving show'r:
Life has tir'd thy pilgrim feet,
Death has nipt thy budding flow'r.
| The Harp of Erin | |