The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden | ||
193
ELEGIAC ODE AT THE RETURN OF THE PARENTALIA, OR FEAST OF THE DEAD.
IMITATED FROM AUSONIUS.
When friends of youth, departed long,
Return to memory's pensive view,
'Tis sweet to chaunt the votive song,
A meed to fond affection due.
Return to memory's pensive view,
'Tis sweet to chaunt the votive song,
A meed to fond affection due.
But grief, which fancy dreads to sing,
And deep heart-rending sighs return,
When slow revolve the months that bring
The flowers to lost Sabina's urn.
And deep heart-rending sighs return,
When slow revolve the months that bring
The flowers to lost Sabina's urn.
Ah! first belov'd! in youth's fair bloom
From these sad arms untimely torn,—
Still lingering by thy lonely tomb,
Thee, lost Sabina, still I mourn!
From these sad arms untimely torn,—
Still lingering by thy lonely tomb,
Thee, lost Sabina, still I mourn!
194
The tear at last may cease to flow,
But time can ne'er my peace restore;
If e'er this bosom pause from woe,
'Tis only when I thee deplore.
But time can ne'er my peace restore;
If e'er this bosom pause from woe,
'Tis only when I thee deplore.
Ne'er has oblivious length of days
Conceal'd thy form from memory's view,
Nor e'er did second love erase
The lines which first affection drew.
Conceal'd thy form from memory's view,
Nor e'er did second love erase
The lines which first affection drew.
Through my sad home, of thee bereft,
I linger silent and alone,
No friend to share my joy is left,
Or sooth my grief, since thou art gone.
I linger silent and alone,
No friend to share my joy is left,
Or sooth my grief, since thou art gone.
While others in their cheerful home
Their loves of youth enamour'd see,
Beside the lonely grave I roam,
And only can remember thee.
Their loves of youth enamour'd see,
Beside the lonely grave I roam,
And only can remember thee.
For pleasures lost, for fortune's scorn,
Ne'er have I shed the useless tear,
But hoary age laments forlorn
The maid to first affection dear.
Ne'er have I shed the useless tear,
But hoary age laments forlorn
The maid to first affection dear.
195
Though, hallow'd by thy parting prayer,
Thy sons exult in youth's fair bloom,
Yet left too soon, they ne'er can share
The fond regret that haunts thy tomb.
Thy sons exult in youth's fair bloom,
Yet left too soon, they ne'er can share
The fond regret that haunts thy tomb.
For thee my woes I sacred hold,
No heart shall steal a sigh from mine,
Till in the common crumbling mould
Mine ashes mingle yet with thine.
No heart shall steal a sigh from mine,
Till in the common crumbling mould
Mine ashes mingle yet with thine.
The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden | ||