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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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XI.

At length, fair mourner! cease thy rising woe:
Its object still surviving seeks the skies,
Where brighter suns in happier climates glow,
And ampler scenes with height'ning charms surprise:
There perfect life thy much lov'd fire enjoys,
The life of gods, exempt from grief and pain,
Where in immortal breasts immortal transports reign.

105

Ye mourning swains, your loud complaints forbear;
Still he, the Genius of our green retreat,
Shall with benignant care our labours chear,
And banish far each shock of adverse fate;
Mild suns and gentle show'rs on spring shall wait,
His hand with ev'ry fruit shall autumn store:
In heav'n your patron reigns, ye shepherds weep no more.
Henceforth his pow'r shall with your Lares join,
To bid your cots with peace and pleasure smile;
To bid disease and languor cease to pine,
And fair abundance crown each rural toil:
While birds their lays resume,
And spring her annual bloom,
Let verdant wreaths his sacred tomb adorn;
To him, each rising day
Devout libations pay:
In heav'n your patron reigns, no more, ye shepherds, mourn.