 | The Fall of the Leaf |  |
42
ODE
WRITTEN WHILE SAILING, IN A TEMPEST, UP THE BRISTOL CHANNEL.
I.
The waves run high;—wild tempests rage;—The fears of death my heart engage!
What?—close the scene so far from shore;
And ne'er be seen, or heard of more?
Oh! sure this ocean's furious breast
Can never lull me to my rest!
II.
Ah!—I had wish'd the humble lot,To live in some sequester'd spot;
Where, studious of divine repose,
Life's weary journey I might close.
III.
And does stern fate that lot deny?
Well! let no tear disgrace thine eye!
The power, which rules this raging sea,
Is parent of futurity;
And of each wild and angry wave,
Can form as soft, as sweet, a grave,
As that where banks of violets grow;
Or that where groupes of roses blow.
Well! let no tear disgrace thine eye!
43
Is parent of futurity;
And of each wild and angry wave,
Can form as soft, as sweet, a grave,
As that where banks of violets grow;
Or that where groupes of roses blow.
Then let no tear disgrace thine eye!
Let tempests rage, and waves run high!
—They're heralds of eternity!
Let tempests rage, and waves run high!
—They're heralds of eternity!
| The Fall of the Leaf | |