Memoir of Robert, Earl Nugent With Letters, Poems, and Appendices: By Claud Nugent: With Twelve Reproductions from Family Portraits by Sir Godfrey Kneller, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough and Others |
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AN ELEGY. |
 | Memoir of Robert, Earl Nugent |  |
189
AN ELEGY.
Wrapt in a sable Cloud the Morn appears,
And ev'ry Object Sorrow's Livery wears;
Slow move the leaden Hours, my lab'ring Breast
Struggles beneath a weight of Grief opprest;
The swelling Sighs burst forth, Tears gushing flow,
While all within is Anarchy of Woe.
And ev'ry Object Sorrow's Livery wears;
Slow move the leaden Hours, my lab'ring Breast
Struggles beneath a weight of Grief opprest;
The swelling Sighs burst forth, Tears gushing flow,
While all within is Anarchy of Woe.
The sprightly Lay, and social Converse wound
My tortur'd Ear, with an ungrateful Sound;
Nor chears the Dance my unregarding Eye,
Flown is its Grace, and wonted Harmony;
Music essays inchanting Notes in vain,
While Sorrows mingle with the soothing Strain,
Sink deeper to the Heart, and melting move
The kindred Powers of Pity and of Love.
For she is now no more to whom belong,
The Dance, the Lay, the Converse and the Song;
Where ev'ry Love with every Grace was join'd,
And sovereign Reason with free Mirth combin'd.
My tortur'd Ear, with an ungrateful Sound;
Nor chears the Dance my unregarding Eye,
Flown is its Grace, and wonted Harmony;
Music essays inchanting Notes in vain,
While Sorrows mingle with the soothing Strain,
Sink deeper to the Heart, and melting move
The kindred Powers of Pity and of Love.
For she is now no more to whom belong,
The Dance, the Lay, the Converse and the Song;
Where ev'ry Love with every Grace was join'd,
And sovereign Reason with free Mirth combin'd.
But lo! Death folds her in his icy Arms,
And clothes in awful Horrors all her Charms;
O'er the dim Eye eternal Slumbers sheds,
The clay-cold Cheek with ghastly Pale o'erspreads,
Steals from the livid Lip its fragrant Bloom,
Too early sunk within a dreary Tomb!
And clothes in awful Horrors all her Charms;
O'er the dim Eye eternal Slumbers sheds,
The clay-cold Cheek with ghastly Pale o'erspreads,
Steals from the livid Lip its fragrant Bloom,
Too early sunk within a dreary Tomb!
Ah! fruitless Love! and will you then pursue
An Object lost for ever to my View?
Lost thou shalt never be, Immortal Fair!
My Mind shall still the Dear Idea bear,
There shalt thou present be, there ever live,
And there the Fullness of my Heart receive.
In melancholy Raptures will I trace
Thy ev'ry Charm, and each transporting Grace;
My faithful Memory shall past Days renew,
Those happy Moments that I pass'd with you;
So shall each little Circumstance be there,
And each Reflection shall draw forth a Tear.
An Object lost for ever to my View?
Lost thou shalt never be, Immortal Fair!
My Mind shall still the Dear Idea bear,
There shalt thou present be, there ever live,
And there the Fullness of my Heart receive.
In melancholy Raptures will I trace
Thy ev'ry Charm, and each transporting Grace;
My faithful Memory shall past Days renew,
Those happy Moments that I pass'd with you;
So shall each little Circumstance be there,
And each Reflection shall draw forth a Tear.
Ah! now I may, without offence, proclaim,
A faithful, generous, and most secret Flame,
Which burn'd like those Sepulchral Lamps, that light
The silent Mansions of eternal Night.
A faithful, generous, and most secret Flame,
Which burn'd like those Sepulchral Lamps, that light
The silent Mansions of eternal Night.
| Memoir of Robert, Earl Nugent | |