 | Poems (1905) |  |
61
JUVENILIA
[A FAREWELL.]
[1799?]
The hour arrived! I sigh'd and said,
How soon the happiest hours are fled!
On wings of down they lately flew,
But then their moments pass'd with you;
And still with you could I but be,
On downy wings they'd always flee.
How soon the happiest hours are fled!
On wings of down they lately flew,
But then their moments pass'd with you;
And still with you could I but be,
On downy wings they'd always flee.
Say, did you not, the way you went,
Feel the soft balm of gay content?
Say, did you not all pleasures find,
Of which you left so few behind?
I think you did: for well I know
My parting prayer would make it so.
Feel the soft balm of gay content?
Say, did you not all pleasures find,
Of which you left so few behind?
I think you did: for well I know
My parting prayer would make it so.
“May she,” I said, “life's choicest goods partake;
“Those, late in life, for nobler still forsake—
“The bliss of one, th' esteem'd of many live,
“With all that Friendship would, and all that Love can give!”
“Those, late in life, for nobler still forsake—
“The bliss of one, th' esteem'd of many live,
“With all that Friendship would, and all that Love can give!”
63
[A HUMBLE INVOCATION.]
[1780.]
When summer's tribe, her rosy tribe, are fled,
And drooping beauty mourns her blossoms shed,
Some humbler sweet may cheer the pensive swain,
And simpler beauties deck the withering plain.
And thus, when Verse her wintry prospect weeps,
When Pope is gone, and mighty Milton sleeps,
When Gray in lofty lines has ceased to soar,
And gentle Goldsmith charms the town no more,
An humbler Bard the widow'd Muse invites,
Who led by hope and inclination writes;
With half their art, he tries the soul to move,
And swell the softer strain with themes of love.
| Poems (1905) | |