 | Poems |  |
75
AN ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF A LADY.
Lovely Sabrina, are your pulses cold,
Has Fate's bleak minion cleft your frame at last?
Must I no more such excellence enfold,
Are all the ecstacies of being past?
Has Fate's bleak minion cleft your frame at last?
Must I no more such excellence enfold,
Are all the ecstacies of being past?
Will all the agonies of poignant woe,
Will all the elocution of my sighs;
Annul the evils of a mortal blow,
Or pour the beam of day upon your eyes?
Will all the elocution of my sighs;
Annul the evils of a mortal blow,
Or pour the beam of day upon your eyes?
Ah no! then I must live and feed my fears,
To watch your sepulchre, reflect and grieve
The live long night, to meet the dawn with tears,
And weep till Philomel salutes the eve.
To watch your sepulchre, reflect and grieve
The live long night, to meet the dawn with tears,
And weep till Philomel salutes the eve.
Tho' sinewy genius would my pangs rehearse,
No springs of fancy can reduce the ill;
The aids of fiction but degrade the verse,
Whene'er the heart would dictate to the will.
No springs of fancy can reduce the ill;
The aids of fiction but degrade the verse,
Whene'er the heart would dictate to the will.
76
Image of peace, my placid nymph, adieu,
Hither on Sorrow's wing ye little loves;
O'er her cold tomb your sprigs of Cypress strew,
Her heart was gentle as your mother's doves.
Hither on Sorrow's wing ye little loves;
O'er her cold tomb your sprigs of Cypress strew,
Her heart was gentle as your mother's doves.
As Ruin melts her atoms by degrees,
And violets rise to scent the ambient air,
I'll shield their buddings from the peevish breeze
And dress the mould with reverential care.
And violets rise to scent the ambient air,
I'll shield their buddings from the peevish breeze
And dress the mould with reverential care.
| Poems | |