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582

TO THE REV. DR. LESLIE,

OF TANDRAGEE, COUNTY DOWN, ON A LATE MELANCHOLY EVENT IN HIS FAMILY, 1792.

Would Heaven that Promethean art were mine,
To bid the languid look revive again;
O could the magic of the muses line,
Lead health meand'ring thro' the seats of pain.
Leslie! that mind which feels for others smart,
For many a year had 'scap'd this cruel stroke,
Till Pity's self had wish'd the soul to part,
From Age's leaden gripe, and galling yoke.
While others skim'd along the vernal road,
Where fleeting pleasure led the hair-brain'd chace;
She trac'd the dark vale to the lone abode,
Where anguish hid her pale, autumnal face.

583

Like the sweet bee, that from the dew-bent flower,
Extracts the lymph, that crowns the cup of joy;
From grateful tears she drew her nectar'd store,
Then with her freight complete, she sought the sky.
That glorious essence would'st thou wish to find,
Here darkling fixt to mourn at others woe;
Heaven's denizen, to slavish task assign'd,
To bid a purple current ebb and flow?—
Fond Sympathy, indeed, that heart could warm,
The glow of friendship, and domestic joy;
Hope's chearful tinge, on Sorrow's faded form,
Seem'd all Elysium to her glist'ning eye.
The Heavenly tenant of that gentle breast,
Eternal vigour from the task inhal'd;
But, the frail lodging of th'empyreal guest,
Sunk, by the siege of unseen foes assail'd.
Yet, what she was, in some distinguish'd hour,
When meek Benevolence and Joy combin'd;
When thro' each look, with soul-enchanting power,
Beam'd the pure essence of th'æthereal mind.
She now exceeds—Behold her where she moves,
In the full noon of everlasting light!—
Yon radiant crown each heavenly charm improves,
With sapphires beam'd, unsufferably bright!

584

Yon gems, that sparkle o'er her flowing vest,
Are grateful tears, in heavenly mines congeal'd;
While in the swelling anthems of the blest,
Wond'ring, she hears, her modest worth reveal'd.
Wond'ring, she sees, in that resplendent robe,
Emblazon'd by the pencil of the skies,
Her deeds, while yet she walk'd this nether globe,
Tended by fervent prayers, and glist'ning eyes.
Thee too, the crown and splendid robe attend,
(If aught the muse beholds, of things above;)
Even now the texture grows, the colours blend,
For other nuptials, midst the choirs of love.
The heavenly artist tends thy steps below,
(An unseen form, but by the gifted sight,)
Who, in the tints of Heaven's unfading bow,
Sketches thy virtues, as they rise to light!
Swift pursuivants, the pictures waft away,
Where, far above, the glorious texture grows,
Glittering in bright diversities of day,
And heavenly looms thy storied life compose.
Still grows the texture, may it long extend,
Till thy late progeny thy virtues learn!
Celestial visitant! thy charge attend,
And soothe with whispers bland, his deep concern!

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Long may his fond, paternal eyes survey,
The sainted mother in the daughter smile;
And may the Author of this grateful lay,
From such a model learn to raise his style.
FINIS.