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Poems by Bernard Barton

Fourth Edition, with Additions
 

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“THOU ART GONE TO THE LAND OF THE LEAL.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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“THOU ART GONE TO THE LAND OF THE LEAL.”

Thou art gone to the land of the leal, and the bell
Is mournfully tolling thy funeral knell;
Within the dark coffin is pillow'd thy head,
And without it the pall for a covering spread;
From the home which thy presence so long has endear'd,
Where thy smiles were belov'd, and thy worth was rever'd,
To the last earthly home, where thy reliques shall rest,
Thou art journeying in peace!—Be thy memory blest!
And blest it shall be: for thou dost not descend
To the cold grave unhonour'd; the grief of each friend,
The sigh of the poor, and the sorrow of those
Who have known thee the longest, attended thy close.
Oh! often before me thy image shall pass,
Like a shadow reflected from memory's glass;
With thy time-silver'd locks, and those spirits, whose play
Seem'd fresh from the fount of life's earliest day;
And the vision, thus brought, to my bosom shall be
Ever welcome, if bearing the semblance of thee!
2d Mo. 6th, 1818.