The Poetical Works of the Revd. Mr. Colvill Containing his Pastorals, Occasional Poems, and Elegies on Illustrious persons. Vol. I & II |
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TO THE MEMORY OF Mrs KINLOCH OF GILMERTON. |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Revd. Mr. Colvill |  |
111
TO THE MEMORY OF Mrs KINLOCH OF GILMERTON.
------ Præcipe lugubres
Cantus, Melpomene. ------
Hor.
Cantus, Melpomene. ------
Hor.
Weary'd with griefs sad office, pleasing pain,
To join with sorrow the consenting voice,
The gen'rous sigh, and sympathetic tear;
Forth from the lonly mansions of the dead,
With fault'ring steps I turn'd, and left the Fane
Where pious grief had led me to discharge
My mournful tribute at Belinda's grave.
To shed in sadness the soft falling tear,
To strew the green turf with sweet smelling flow'rs,
And sing soft rest to the departed shade.
To join with sorrow the consenting voice,
The gen'rous sigh, and sympathetic tear;
Forth from the lonly mansions of the dead,
With fault'ring steps I turn'd, and left the Fane
Where pious grief had led me to discharge
My mournful tribute at Belinda's grave.
To shed in sadness the soft falling tear,
To strew the green turf with sweet smelling flow'rs,
And sing soft rest to the departed shade.
Disconsolate along the fresh show'r'd bank
I slowly took my solitary way;
The chrystal brook, which fed the bord'ring flow'rs,
With plaintive murmers sought the distant vale,
The curfew, solemn knell of day, prepar'd
The world for rest; the chearful Sun had sunk
His golden orb, and Philomel alone,
Sole sitting in the neighb'ring grove, pursu'd
With may a warbl'd maze her trilling strain.
Down on the dark green grass I lay reclin'd,
And while still night in ebon mantle clad,
With silent steps, led forth her stary train,
Thus sadly to the listning vale I mourn'd:
I slowly took my solitary way;
The chrystal brook, which fed the bord'ring flow'rs,
With plaintive murmers sought the distant vale,
112
The world for rest; the chearful Sun had sunk
His golden orb, and Philomel alone,
Sole sitting in the neighb'ring grove, pursu'd
With may a warbl'd maze her trilling strain.
Down on the dark green grass I lay reclin'd,
And while still night in ebon mantle clad,
With silent steps, led forth her stary train,
Thus sadly to the listning vale I mourn'd:
O fatal day! thou bitter source of wo!
Which left us poor bereft of what we priz'd:
O cruel Death! which robb'd the world of joy,
And for Belinda, comliness itself,
Soft feeling pity, virtue mildly great,
Wit, elegance, and open-hearted truth,
Left us the cold pale corse; the dull remains
Of worth returning to her native skies.
Which left us poor bereft of what we priz'd:
O cruel Death! which robb'd the world of joy,
And for Belinda, comliness itself,
Soft feeling pity, virtue mildly great,
Wit, elegance, and open-hearted truth,
Left us the cold pale corse; the dull remains
Of worth returning to her native skies.
O mournful change! how has Death's killing blast
Transform'd the roses of that damask cheek
To deadly hue! those eyes, with wisdom bright,
Which like two friendly stars their blessings shed
Benevolence and peace to human kind,
How has dark night extinguish'd all their fire!
That tongue which with the voice of music spoke,
While more enamour'd still Palemon hung
In pleasing admiration, as when men
High favourd hear descending angels talk,
How has dumb silence with strong magic bound
The pow'r harmonious, never to awake,
That look divine, pervading to the soul,
That elegance of form, resistless shap'd
By Beauty's finest hand; how has the bane
Of chilling death each wond'rous charm destroy'd;
And all ye nobler graces of the mind,
Whom Fancy fails to paint, and mortal tongue
But ill explains by words, how are ye fled
From human sight! thou heav'nly piety,
Conjugal love, sincere parental care,
Domestic goodness, friendship, social joy
Endearing life, kind sympathy which falls
The generous tear, and hastens to relieve;
Good nature smiling like the golden morn,
Clear sense, and virtue fearful to offend,
Each precious gift which bounteous Heav'n bestows,
To shine admir'd, and bless the world with good.
Transform'd the roses of that damask cheek
To deadly hue! those eyes, with wisdom bright,
Which like two friendly stars their blessings shed
Benevolence and peace to human kind,
How has dark night extinguish'd all their fire!
That tongue which with the voice of music spoke,
While more enamour'd still Palemon hung
In pleasing admiration, as when men
High favourd hear descending angels talk,
How has dumb silence with strong magic bound
113
That look divine, pervading to the soul,
That elegance of form, resistless shap'd
By Beauty's finest hand; how has the bane
Of chilling death each wond'rous charm destroy'd;
And all ye nobler graces of the mind,
Whom Fancy fails to paint, and mortal tongue
But ill explains by words, how are ye fled
From human sight! thou heav'nly piety,
Conjugal love, sincere parental care,
Domestic goodness, friendship, social joy
Endearing life, kind sympathy which falls
The generous tear, and hastens to relieve;
Good nature smiling like the golden morn,
Clear sense, and virtue fearful to offend,
Each precious gift which bounteous Heav'n bestows,
To shine admir'd, and bless the world with good.
O ruthless Death! thy cruel hand hath cropp'd
This beauteous flow'r, and rifled all its sweets!
Belinda, in the beauty of her youth,
Show'd like the poplar glory of the grove,
Which lifts the verdant top, and spreads its boughs,
Dispensing fragrance, till some stormy night
Shiver its strength, and tearing from its seat,
Spread forth the beauteous ruin on the plain.
This beauteous flow'r, and rifled all its sweets!
Belinda, in the beauty of her youth,
Show'd like the poplar glory of the grove,
Which lifts the verdant top, and spreads its boughs,
Dispensing fragrance, till some stormy night
Shiver its strength, and tearing from its seat,
Spread forth the beauteous ruin on the plain.
O early lost! in the full noon of life,
When ev'ry grace shone in its summer bloom!
The sad rememb'rance only now remains,
Which, fondly whisp'ring what Belinda was,
Recounts to thee, Palemon! all her worth,
Renews thy loss, and on thy fancy preys.
Enamour'd, o'er this precious gem you hung,
And drunk in pleasure from its beamy rays;
But, in ill-fated hour, rapacious Death,
Like the night felon, stole, with silent steps,
And quench'd thy diamond's blaze, and left thee dark,
Forlorn, of all thy wealthy treasure spoil'd.
When ev'ry grace shone in its summer bloom!
The sad rememb'rance only now remains,
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Recounts to thee, Palemon! all her worth,
Renews thy loss, and on thy fancy preys.
Enamour'd, o'er this precious gem you hung,
And drunk in pleasure from its beamy rays;
But, in ill-fated hour, rapacious Death,
Like the night felon, stole, with silent steps,
And quench'd thy diamond's blaze, and left thee dark,
Forlorn, of all thy wealthy treasure spoil'd.
No more the smiling Hours, on golden wings,
Shall pass rejoicing, nor behold thee gaze
On Beauty's face, enamour'd of her charms.
No more, at ev'ning walks, shall hear the voice
Of conjugal esteem, of tenderness,
Of friendship, honest worth, and glad content,
In busy converse join'd. Thy pleasing race,
The fruit of faithful love, no more shall meet
The Mother's fondness, hasting to explain
Th'imploring look; nor friend nor kindred feel
The virtuous transport, that endearing bliss,
Which crown'd the social hour, when gentle peace,
When harmless mirth, and honesty of heart,
When wit refin'd, and gen'rous freedom, met.
Shall pass rejoicing, nor behold thee gaze
On Beauty's face, enamour'd of her charms.
No more, at ev'ning walks, shall hear the voice
Of conjugal esteem, of tenderness,
Of friendship, honest worth, and glad content,
In busy converse join'd. Thy pleasing race,
The fruit of faithful love, no more shall meet
The Mother's fondness, hasting to explain
Th'imploring look; nor friend nor kindred feel
The virtuous transport, that endearing bliss,
Which crown'd the social hour, when gentle peace,
When harmless mirth, and honesty of heart,
When wit refin'd, and gen'rous freedom, met.
For now the friendly star, which lately shone
So lovely bright, is shorn of all its beams;
The beauteous blaze is set, and cheerless night
Darkling succeeds. Yet know, Belinda dies
Only to view; for, like the western sun,
She set to rise with fresh resplendent beams
In brighter skies, and shine with nobler fires,
While Nature's Lord, who wak'd th'immortal flame,
Has rais'd the splendor never more to set.
So lovely bright, is shorn of all its beams;
The beauteous blaze is set, and cheerless night
Darkling succeeds. Yet know, Belinda dies
115
She set to rise with fresh resplendent beams
In brighter skies, and shine with nobler fires,
While Nature's Lord, who wak'd th'immortal flame,
Has rais'd the splendor never more to set.
Palemon, dry thy tears, and, with the eye
Of holy faith, look up, this sacred truth
Speaks wond'rous joy to thy deploring mind:
Though for a space the stroke of death shall part
Whom ev'ry wish and holy tie had bound;
Yet shall they meet, the long lost friends shall meet,
The tender husband and the loving wife,
And meet rejoicing, they shall part no more.
Of holy faith, look up, this sacred truth
Speaks wond'rous joy to thy deploring mind:
Though for a space the stroke of death shall part
Whom ev'ry wish and holy tie had bound;
Yet shall they meet, the long lost friends shall meet,
The tender husband and the loving wife,
And meet rejoicing, they shall part no more.
Such was my theme, while solemn Night began
Her peaceful reign; fair Hesperus was set
In the clear west, while, with unclouded ray,
Night's Empress shone, bright Cynthia, from her throne.
Glad of her silver beams in haste I rose,
And homeward fast explor'd my weary way.
Her peaceful reign; fair Hesperus was set
In the clear west, while, with unclouded ray,
Night's Empress shone, bright Cynthia, from her throne.
Glad of her silver beams in haste I rose,
And homeward fast explor'd my weary way.
Aug. 1757.
| The Poetical Works of the Revd. Mr. Colvill | |