The Lonely Isle A South-Sea Island Tale, In Three Cantos. By William Glen |
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WRITTEN IN ABERFOYLE CHURCH-YARD. |
 | The Lonely Isle |  |
47
WRITTEN IN ABERFOYLE CHURCH-YARD.
Here will I now repose a little while,
And draw my soul from sublunary things;—
Who views these relics, can refuse a smile
At lordly grandeur and the pride of kings?
And draw my soul from sublunary things;—
Who views these relics, can refuse a smile
At lordly grandeur and the pride of kings?
Can gorgeous palace calm a troubled mind?
Or sumptuous mansion hush a sinner's fear?
Ah! no; but look around, and ye will find
The works of God are written clearly here.
Or sumptuous mansion hush a sinner's fear?
Ah! no; but look around, and ye will find
The works of God are written clearly here.
Behold that Stone, more polished than the rest,
On which some simple Bard hath flung his rhimes,
The dazzling sun-beam plays upon its breast,
As if to rouse the slumberer betimes.
On which some simple Bard hath flung his rhimes,
The dazzling sun-beam plays upon its breast,
As if to rouse the slumberer betimes.
Vain thought! alas! no radiant sun-beam now
Will rouse him up to comfort those who weep;
The dews of death rest heavy on his brow,
And he is cradled in a tranquil sleep.
Will rouse him up to comfort those who weep;
The dews of death rest heavy on his brow,
And he is cradled in a tranquil sleep.
48
The Stone nigh to it tells me of a Wife,
Who, pure and spotless, yielded up her breath,
Exchanging thus her Husband and her life,
For that dark dwelling and th'embrace of death.
Who, pure and spotless, yielded up her breath,
Exchanging thus her Husband and her life,
For that dark dwelling and th'embrace of death.
Had she an Offspring? in them had she joy?
Might she not wait to see them in full bloom?
Ah! no; the Angel hastened to destroy,
And earthly joy closed round her in the tomb.
Might she not wait to see them in full bloom?
Ah! no; the Angel hastened to destroy,
And earthly joy closed round her in the tomb.
How many, here around, unconscious lye,
Who in their spring-time never thought of this?
Who laugh'd at every hour swift passing by,
And thought the present would be lasting bliss!
Who in their spring-time never thought of this?
Who laugh'd at every hour swift passing by,
And thought the present would be lasting bliss!
O! would a voice but issue from the tomb,
And tell me of that awful world unknown;
Show me Futurity's dark hidden womb,
Where we are travelling, and where they are gone!
And tell me of that awful world unknown;
Show me Futurity's dark hidden womb,
Where we are travelling, and where they are gone!
Then would I wander on the verge of time,
And view the Angels' heavenly abode;
Enraptur'd tread the glorious paths sublime,
“And, like the Sainted Enoch, walk with God!”
And view the Angels' heavenly abode;
Enraptur'd tread the glorious paths sublime,
“And, like the Sainted Enoch, walk with God!”
Like these I'll shortly moulder in the dust,
Yet when my mandate is pronounced and given,
Let me receive a dwelling 'mong the just,
And let me have a resting place in heaven.
Yet when my mandate is pronounced and given,
Let me receive a dwelling 'mong the just,
And let me have a resting place in heaven.
| The Lonely Isle | |