 | My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays |  |
ELEGIAC LINES,
TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. A. WIFE OF THE HONOURABLE JOHN C. J.
Ah! what avails, that round her angel face,
Transcendant beauty breathed its softened grace,
Or what avails the friend-surrounded bier,
Or e'en a matchless husband's hopeless tear!
Transcendant beauty breathed its softened grace,
Or what avails the friend-surrounded bier,
Or e'en a matchless husband's hopeless tear!
That fancy, whence the pencilled scenes arose,
That hand by which the finished portrait glows,
That touch, which taught the chorded notes to roll,
That voice whose warbling chained the captive soul,
Unconscious sleep! regardless of the care
That grieving tells in life, how prized they were.
The purer spirit wings its promised way—
While hovering seraphs guard the beauteous clay.
That hand by which the finished portrait glows,
That touch, which taught the chorded notes to roll,
That voice whose warbling chained the captive soul,
Unconscious sleep! regardless of the care
That grieving tells in life, how prized they were.
The purer spirit wings its promised way—
While hovering seraphs guard the beauteous clay.
Bright as the rose, which sinks beneath the storm,
Fair as the gathered lily's polished form;
Lamented shade! for thee shall memory mourn,
And living praise thy early grave adorn.
Fair as the gathered lily's polished form;
Lamented shade! for thee shall memory mourn,
And living praise thy early grave adorn.
With every grace the soul of sense to move,
Caress'd by fortune, happy in thy love;
Say, when did fate with equal lustre shine,
Or what blest husband knew a joy like thine!
Caress'd by fortune, happy in thy love;
Say, when did fate with equal lustre shine,
Or what blest husband knew a joy like thine!
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Won by his worth, with thy perfections charmed,
Endeared by hope, with mutual fondness warmed;
Each opening morn increasing pleasure knew,
In scenes of bliss the closing day withdrew.
Endeared by hope, with mutual fondness warmed;
Each opening morn increasing pleasure knew,
In scenes of bliss the closing day withdrew.
Great God of Wisdom! on thy just decree,
What impious mortal dare to question thee!
Why the blest Abba yields her valued breath,
While loathing wretches court the grasp of death?
While some whom hard affliction calls her own,
Beneath this tedious weight of being groan.
In silence breathe the unregarded sigh,
And cloud with secret tears the melting eye;
Or who the hidden springs of fate can find,
What ruling power instructs the searching mind,
Why merit droops, and prosperous vice beguiles,
Why pity grieves, and rude oppression smiles;
And while the living miscreant laughs at woe,
O'er Beauty's urn the tears of Virtue flow!
What impious mortal dare to question thee!
Why the blest Abba yields her valued breath,
While loathing wretches court the grasp of death?
While some whom hard affliction calls her own,
Beneath this tedious weight of being groan.
In silence breathe the unregarded sigh,
And cloud with secret tears the melting eye;
Or who the hidden springs of fate can find,
What ruling power instructs the searching mind,
Why merit droops, and prosperous vice beguiles,
Why pity grieves, and rude oppression smiles;
And while the living miscreant laughs at woe,
O'er Beauty's urn the tears of Virtue flow!
| My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | |