 | My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays |  |
LAMENTATIONS
OF AN UNFORTUNATE MOTHER, OVER THE TOMB OF HER ONLY SON.
Charles Ward Apthorp Morton expired of a Dropsy of the
Brain, a disease always accompanied by premature but extraordinary
capacity. Its fatal termination was accelerated
by sedentary habits and intense study. In his very early
childhood he appeared a prodigy of genius;—and entered the
University at thirteen—where he gave the fairest promise of
excellence in Science and the Fine Arts; for although endowed
by nature with a taste for the Sister Powers of Music,
Painting and Poetry; from his devotion to the more honourable
pursuits of Science, he relinquished these but a short
time previous to his last illness. His heart was noble and
sincere; abounding with passions, and affections. His integrity
unblemished and his death productive of self-despair to
his unfortunate Mother.
At his early age having already made Improvements in
Medical Electricity; for which he received a Certificate from
the President and Professors of Harvard University. But
his whole existence was that of suffering, owing to the original
feebleness of his constitution and the energetic sensibility
of his mind.
Charles Ward Apthorp Morton expired of a Dropsy of the Brain, a disease always accompanied by premature but extraordinary capacity. Its fatal termination was accelerated by sedentary habits and intense study. In his very early childhood he appeared a prodigy of genius;—and entered the University at thirteen—where he gave the fairest promise of excellence in Science and the Fine Arts; for although endowed by nature with a taste for the Sister Powers of Music, Painting and Poetry; from his devotion to the more honourable pursuits of Science, he relinquished these but a short time previous to his last illness. His heart was noble and sincere; abounding with passions, and affections. His integrity unblemished and his death productive of self-despair to his unfortunate Mother.
At his early age having already made Improvements in Medical Electricity; for which he received a Certificate from the President and Professors of Harvard University. But his whole existence was that of suffering, owing to the original feebleness of his constitution and the energetic sensibility of his mind.
No more shall see thy morn of hope arise,
No more for her its day resplendent shine,
But grief eternal rule like wrath divine,
Blotting from earth's drear scene each mental ray
That chased the phantom of despair away.
No murmur wakened, for thy love was mine;
Though hard her frown, and many a blow severe
Called to thy brilliant eye the clouding tear;
Yet poor the boon that waits on fortunes store,
Since the full pampered heart still pines for more.
To blight the laurel blooming round thy head;
Chilled by her grasp, but not to wrongs resigned,
For warm as summer glowed thine active mind;
No syren pleasure, potent to betray,
Ere lured thy lone and studious hours away.
For genius gave thee birth, and called thee child.
The painter's touch, the minstrel's art divine,
With many a charm of polished life were thine,
And thine the soul sublime, too ardent wrought,
The impetuous feeling, and the burst of thought;
Strong and resistless—to the few alone,
Was all the treasure of thy being known.
Young Genius rose—with rich and radiant beam,
While the fine eye, to that and nature true,
Spoke all that mind inspired, or sorrow knew.
And grieving yield me to the tomb's last sleep;
Nor, in thy dawn of years, when hope was gay,
Like heaven's bright arch of promise, melt away—
Lost, like a sun-beam in the spring's chill hours,
And transient as the garden's earliest flowers:
But dearer thou than rays that morn illume,
And lovelier far than nature's vernal bloom;
These, when the storm has past, again return,
But what shall wake thy deep death-slumbering urn?
What but the voice of heaven, that strain divine,
Which bids the trembling earth its trust resign.
Then the bold genius, and the feelings wild,
No more to wrongs and woes shall bear my child;
But that warm heart to generous pity known,
Which all the grieved affections made their own,
With the pure essence of that brain of fire,
Shall to a Seraph's fervid flame aspire;
And angels with arch-angels, pleased to find,
The blest expression of thy kindred mind;
Charming from memory's thought its earthly pain,
Will give thee to thy mother's soul again.
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