 | Poems (1797) |  |
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LINES ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.
The languid notes of lonesome bird
From yonder coppice sweetly wind,
And thro' the scene are faintly heard
Sounds that are silence to the mind.
From yonder coppice sweetly wind,
And thro' the scene are faintly heard
Sounds that are silence to the mind.
As slow my devious feet advance
Thro' Eve's unrealizing gloom,
Mine eyes peruse with eager glance
An Infant's solitary tomb.
Thro' Eve's unrealizing gloom,
Mine eyes peruse with eager glance
An Infant's solitary tomb.
'Tis simple! yet the green sod here
That seems to court no stranger's eye,
Than marble claims a tenderer tear,
Than sculpture moves a softer sigh!
That seems to court no stranger's eye,
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Than sculpture moves a softer sigh!
A lonely primrose lifts its head,
And here and there pale violets peep,
And if no venal tears are shed
The dews from many a daisy weep.
And here and there pale violets peep,
And if no venal tears are shed
The dews from many a daisy weep.
And Pity here is often seen
To prompt the nameless pilgrim's sighs,
For Pity loves to haunt the scene
Where Grief is stript of Art's disguise.
To prompt the nameless pilgrim's sighs,
For Pity loves to haunt the scene
Where Grief is stript of Art's disguise.
Farewell sweet spot! my soul I feel
Entranc'd in sorrow's softest mood,
These pensive shades that o'er me steal
They shall not lightly be withstood.
Entranc'd in sorrow's softest mood,
These pensive shades that o'er me steal
They shall not lightly be withstood.
| Poems (1797) | |