 | Miscellaneous Pieces |  |
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[“Still bleeds the deep, deep wound!—Where is the friend]
“Still bleeds the deep, deep wound!—Where is the friendTo pour with tender, kind indulgent hand,
The lenient balm of comfort on my heart?
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(Who bore him raptur'd to your blest abodes)
Can ought on earth compensate for my loss!
Ah, no! the world is poor, and what am I?
A helpless, solitary worm, that creeps
Complaining on the earth! Yet ev'n to worms
The care of heaven extends, and can I doubt
If that indulgent care extends to me?
Father of mercies, trembling at thy feet,
Give me to vent the heart oppressing grief,
And ask for comfort!—can I ask in vain
Of him whose name is Love?—But O the boon
My craving wishes ask is large indeed!
Yet less will leave me wretched—Gracious God
Give me to say without a rising doubt,
“Thou art my Father”—thy paternal love
Alone can cheer my soul, thy kind compassion,
Can ease the load of heart oppressing grief.
O may I know my father pities me!
And if he pities sure he will support:
What cannot love omnipotent effect!—
Ah! now one tender, one endearing tie
That held me down to earth, death has torn off,
And with it rent my heart strings—bid me come,
To thee my refuge; prostrate at thy feet,
O bid me say, with faith and humble hope,
Heal, gracious father, heal my bleeding heart!
Thy healing hand alone can bring relief
For woes like mine; can bring what most I want,
An humble resignation to thy will.
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With full consent to say “Thy will be done.”
xii
[O for a gush of soul-relieving tears]
[_]
The insertion of the following lines may perhaps need some apology, as they are meerly the effusions of a heart deeply penetrated with a sense of its own loss; written at different times, for its private relief, and contain nothing more concerning the dear deceased than has been already said in the preceding pages.—But it is the last, the only expression of gratitude and affection, that can ever be paid to her memory by one whom she fondly loved, and who in losing her, has lost one of her chief sources of happiness in this world; this thought alone has occasioned their publication, and it is hoped will be a sufficient excuse for it to every feeling mind.
O for a gush of soul-relieving tears
To ease my swelling heart!—Alas in vain
I look around for comfort! every place
Recalls some circumstance that gives to grief
A keener edge!—The hour, the dreaded hour
My soul has shuddered at so long, is come!
Ah! where is now that friend, to whom my heart
In every past distress was wont to fly,
While the dear sufferer, her own pains forgot,
Would gently sooth my passions into peace?
Where that maternal friend, whose watchful care,
Whose fond, assiduous tenderness sustain'd
My helpless childhood? whose instructive voice,
(Sweet as the song of seraphs) mildly taught
My heedless feet the sacred path of virtue;
That sacred path of pleasantness and peace
She long had trod. And shall I never, never
Hear that lov'd voice—that venerable form
No more behold?—Now on one single thread,
Hangs all my desolated soul's support;
That broken too, and every earthly hope
Sinks in eternal night.
To ease my swelling heart!—Alas in vain
I look around for comfort! every place
Recalls some circumstance that gives to grief
A keener edge!—The hour, the dreaded hour
My soul has shuddered at so long, is come!
Ah! where is now that friend, to whom my heart
In every past distress was wont to fly,
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Would gently sooth my passions into peace?
Where that maternal friend, whose watchful care,
Whose fond, assiduous tenderness sustain'd
My helpless childhood? whose instructive voice,
(Sweet as the song of seraphs) mildly taught
My heedless feet the sacred path of virtue;
That sacred path of pleasantness and peace
She long had trod. And shall I never, never
Hear that lov'd voice—that venerable form
No more behold?—Now on one single thread,
Hangs all my desolated soul's support;
That broken too, and every earthly hope
Sinks in eternal night.
But has the sorrowing heart no other refuge?
Methinks I hear that lov'd, that well-known voice,
Ev'n from the grave, direct my erring mind
Beyond death's dreary realms to fairer scenes.
Yes, 'tis her gentle language—“Seek a friend
That lives for ever.”—Shall I not obey
Her last command, her dying admonition?
(Compassionate Redeemer! lead O lead
My heart to thee and teach it to repose
Its hope, its trust, its all on thee alone!)
O let me, with a miser's care, recall
And treasure up each dear instructive sentence!
Still let me dwell on her inspiring page,
And bathe it with the grateful tears of love!
'Tis all I now have left!—O had one ray
Of her ascended genius beam'd on me!
Then had this trembling hand, by grief unnerv'd,
Faithful to truth, to gratitude, pourtray'd
The lovely lineaments of her fair mind.
Vain wish!—a thousand sad ideas rise,
Daily and hourly rise, a thousand acts
Of tenderness too slightly felt before,
Rush o'er my soul with anguish ever new.
How shall I learn to live without her aid!
My dearest pleasures, my most lov'd employments
She taught me first to relish, first awak'd
The wish for knowledge—with her too expir'd!
Still, still to her indulgent eye was shewn
The artless lay, still her etherial touch
Gave life and beauty to the languid line,
Its dearest meed her animating smile.
Now all is o'er—in vain that artless lay
Hath ventur'd into light, in vain I hop'd
To give her pleasure, that indulgent eye,
Is clos'd for ever! her complacent smile
Shall animate my drooping heart no more.
Methinks I hear that lov'd, that well-known voice,
Ev'n from the grave, direct my erring mind
Beyond death's dreary realms to fairer scenes.
Yes, 'tis her gentle language—“Seek a friend
That lives for ever.”—Shall I not obey
Her last command, her dying admonition?
(Compassionate Redeemer! lead O lead
My heart to thee and teach it to repose
Its hope, its trust, its all on thee alone!)
O let me, with a miser's care, recall
And treasure up each dear instructive sentence!
Still let me dwell on her inspiring page,
And bathe it with the grateful tears of love!
xiv
Of her ascended genius beam'd on me!
Then had this trembling hand, by grief unnerv'd,
Faithful to truth, to gratitude, pourtray'd
The lovely lineaments of her fair mind.
Vain wish!—a thousand sad ideas rise,
Daily and hourly rise, a thousand acts
Of tenderness too slightly felt before,
Rush o'er my soul with anguish ever new.
How shall I learn to live without her aid!
My dearest pleasures, my most lov'd employments
She taught me first to relish, first awak'd
The wish for knowledge—with her too expir'd!
Still, still to her indulgent eye was shewn
The artless lay, still her etherial touch
Gave life and beauty to the languid line,
Its dearest meed her animating smile.
Now all is o'er—in vain that artless lay
Hath ventur'd into light, in vain I hop'd
To give her pleasure, that indulgent eye,
Is clos'd for ever! her complacent smile
Shall animate my drooping heart no more.
Nature be calm—ye streaming tears be dry!
Think of her bliss and check this selfish sorrow.
Torture is chang'd to transport, faith to sight,
And hope absorb'd in full felicity.
Ah with what resignation, what composure,
Have I beheld her suffer pains unknown!
Anguish unspeakable!—her faith, her patience
Still unsubdu'd! unquench'd the vivid flame,
Of warm benevolence!—to others woes,
In agony attentive,—anxious still
For others happiness,—how would she strive
(Her gentle hand all tremulous with pain)
To please or to instruct!—how have I hung
In silent sorrow o'er her painful couch,
And wept the impotence of mortal friendship!
While season after season, years on years,
Revolv'd in vain!—revolv'd but to confute,
The flattering dreams of hope, while added sufferings,
But bound her closer to this bleeding bosom.
O the keen pangs of parting!—Still I feel
The gentle pressure of her clay-cold hand!
Still present to my heart, I hear her voice!
I see that smile by dawning heaven imprest
On her dear countenance! when all serene,
She clos'd her willing eyes—to wake in heaven!
O could I, could I raise my languid thoughts
To that bright world of glory! Could I view her
For ever reunited to that friend,
So lov'd, and so lamented! (the deep wound,
The lenient hand of time could never heal.)
“Now parting pangs shall rend their hearts no more,”
For ever present with a smiling God!
For ever tuning the seraphic lyre!
There only sweeter than her notes below.
Think of her bliss and check this selfish sorrow.
Torture is chang'd to transport, faith to sight,
And hope absorb'd in full felicity.
Ah with what resignation, what composure,
xv
Anguish unspeakable!—her faith, her patience
Still unsubdu'd! unquench'd the vivid flame,
Of warm benevolence!—to others woes,
In agony attentive,—anxious still
For others happiness,—how would she strive
(Her gentle hand all tremulous with pain)
To please or to instruct!—how have I hung
In silent sorrow o'er her painful couch,
And wept the impotence of mortal friendship!
While season after season, years on years,
Revolv'd in vain!—revolv'd but to confute,
The flattering dreams of hope, while added sufferings,
But bound her closer to this bleeding bosom.
O the keen pangs of parting!—Still I feel
The gentle pressure of her clay-cold hand!
Still present to my heart, I hear her voice!
I see that smile by dawning heaven imprest
On her dear countenance! when all serene,
She clos'd her willing eyes—to wake in heaven!
O could I, could I raise my languid thoughts
To that bright world of glory! Could I view her
For ever reunited to that friend,
So lov'd, and so lamented! (the deep wound,
The lenient hand of time could never heal.)
xvi
For ever present with a smiling God!
For ever tuning the seraphic lyre!
There only sweeter than her notes below.
Ah whence this pause! My bleeding heart in vain
Attempts to soar, but sinks to earth and sorrow.
Dwells on the past, and sharpens every thought
With fruitless self-upbraidings—O the chaos
Of wild distracted thought! forgive me heaven!
Teach me, like her, to say, “Thy will be done!”
“If happy minds regard the scenes below,”
(Soothing idea!—By thyself inspir'd)
Dear spotless saint, O look with pity down
On her whom thy maternal care sustain'd,
And thy affection bless'd! and though unseen,
Be thou my guardian-angel as while here!
And when I feel a wish for virtue rise,
I'll tell my heart my Theodosia prompts it.
O may thy precepts, thy example guide
My steps through life's dark maze! teach me, like thee,
With duteous love to chear a father's life!
(A father, late thy all as well as mine;)
That one dear hope alone could prompt a wish
To linger in that world which thou hast lest.
That one dear hope fulfill'd, O may my dust
Repose with thine, and (mercy hear the prayer!)
My deathless spirit freed, for ever freed
From all its sins and frailties, once again
Behold, (ah not as when on earth oppress'd
With pungent pain) behold my Theodosia!
My Theodosia! let me, let me still
Repeat the much-lov'd name! Still must her image
Dwell in my heart while gratitude exists,
Cherish'd with life, and but with life expire.
Attempts to soar, but sinks to earth and sorrow.
Dwells on the past, and sharpens every thought
With fruitless self-upbraidings—O the chaos
Of wild distracted thought! forgive me heaven!
Teach me, like her, to say, “Thy will be done!”
“If happy minds regard the scenes below,”
(Soothing idea!—By thyself inspir'd)
Dear spotless saint, O look with pity down
On her whom thy maternal care sustain'd,
And thy affection bless'd! and though unseen,
Be thou my guardian-angel as while here!
And when I feel a wish for virtue rise,
I'll tell my heart my Theodosia prompts it.
O may thy precepts, thy example guide
My steps through life's dark maze! teach me, like thee,
With duteous love to chear a father's life!
(A father, late thy all as well as mine;)
That one dear hope alone could prompt a wish
To linger in that world which thou hast lest.
That one dear hope fulfill'd, O may my dust
xvii
My deathless spirit freed, for ever freed
From all its sins and frailties, once again
Behold, (ah not as when on earth oppress'd
With pungent pain) behold my Theodosia!
My Theodosia! let me, let me still
Repeat the much-lov'd name! Still must her image
Dwell in my heart while gratitude exists,
Cherish'd with life, and but with life expire.
| Miscellaneous Pieces | |