 | Miscellaneous Poetry (1806) |  |
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INTERVIEW BETWEEN TALABAAN AND ALOMPRA.
1800.
Argument.
Ava had long been subject to the Taliens, and was governed by Apporaza, the King's brother and viceroy. Alompra, a man of mean extraction, but extraordinary talents, raised the standard of revolt, and expelled the Taliens from the Birman territory. He carried the war into the kingdom of Pegue; and, after numerous victories, laid siege to the capital itself. The Taliens sued for peace, confirmed his conquests, and delivered up to him the King's daughter. Talabaan, a young chieftain, who was attached to the Princess, having vainly opposed this disgraceful treaty, cut his way through the army of Alompra with a few desperate followers. Alompra soon afterwards attempted to surprise the city, which trusted in the faith of peace. In this he failed; but the war being renewed, the timid King submitted unconditionally, threw open the gates, and was imprisoned for the rest of his life. Alompra seized all the relations of Talabaan, and ordered them to be executed, unless he should submit within a limited time. Finding all further resistance useless, he surrendered his person to the discretion of the conqueror; who, struck with his generous and noble behaviour, entrusted to him the government of one of the conquered provinces. I have departed from historical truth in supposing, that Talabaan had rescued the princess, when he forced the lines of Alompra; and that he placed her in safety, before he surrendered.
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I come, Alompra, not to sue for mercy,
But, as thy prisoner, well prepared to bear
The insolent cruelty of new-gain'd power,
And meet my sentence calmly; and am happier
To be thy captive thus, (tho' death awaits me)
Than to have bow'd unharm'd before thy force.
For me I nought capitulate or crave;
But for my kindred amnesty and freedom
As my just right I claim, and here demand
Upon thy profer'd word, which should be sacred.
I am thy prisoner.
ALOMPRA.
Rightly hast thou said;
Alompra's word shall ever sacred prove.
Thy friends, whom I as hostages detain'd,
Are by this act enlarged: but much I grieve,
That thou (whose worth and virtuous gifts I prize)
Alone should'st stand thus frowardly against me,
Scorning both life and safety.—Know, young man,
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That thou didst storm my tent, defy my power,
And snatch the royal virgin from my grasp,
I freely pardon; and admire the valor,
Which plann'd and executed such mighty deeds.
I ask no ransom for thy head; and now
Obliterate from my heart all injuries,
And give thee freedom, confidence, and honor.
But mark, thou must restore the spotless maiden
To grace my triumph, and to share my bed.
Such is the trivial price of life and freedom.
TALABAAN.
I do not wonder at thy words, Alompra,
Though I despise the tongue, which utters them.
I know ye Birmans have not hearts for love;
Ye have a gross and selfish appetite
For the ripe beauties of your blooming maids,
And call it love; but feel no tender friendship,
No chaste endearment to their social charms;
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Fairer and lovelier, than the spotless form,
Which doth enshrine it.—She is beyond thy reach,
And I regard thee not.
ALOMPRA.
Vain-boasting boy,
I am too gentle towards thine insolence.
But hear me; tho' I scorn the paltry maid,
My force shall wrest her from thine haughty grasp,
Or, by my faith, thy life shall pay for her.
TALABAAN.
Proud man, it were an easier task to bow
The old and knotty stem, to turn again
The foaming torrent to its rocky source,
Or pluck the immortal planets from the sky,
Than shake the honest faith of love and friendship.
If thou hast never known, what friendship is;
Never upon a fond and kindred bosom
Pillow'd thy bleeding sorrows; never felt
The trembling ecstacy of mutual joys;
Learn, there is magic in that holy name,
Might lull the tortur'd senses to repose
E'en on the burning rack. It is a balm,
Which none, but noble hearts, have ever tasted;
Given by pitying heaven, to heal the wounds
Of undeserved grief and foul oppression!
The old and knotty stem, to turn again
The foaming torrent to its rocky source,
Or pluck the immortal planets from the sky,
Than shake the honest faith of love and friendship.
If thou hast never known, what friendship is;
Never upon a fond and kindred bosom
Pillow'd thy bleeding sorrows; never felt
The trembling ecstacy of mutual joys;
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Might lull the tortur'd senses to repose
E'en on the burning rack. It is a balm,
Which none, but noble hearts, have ever tasted;
Given by pitying heaven, to heal the wounds
Of undeserved grief and foul oppression!
From earliest cradle were we twins in love;
Together have we smiled, and wept together;
And interchanged such sympathy of thoughts,
That our fond bosoms did together grow
After one model, quality, and fashion:
And, as we ripen'd into youth, our hearts
Still beat in unison. Therefore I value
This precious jewel, (which thou dost despise)
More than the pride of courts, the wealth of worlds,
And all the tyrannous pomp of majesty.
Nor is it spleen, which moves me thus to swear,
She never shall be thine; it is the pure
And natural freedom of an honest heart,
Which (tho' intractable, and proud to stand
In firmest opposition to injustice)
Is ever mild and faithful in affection.
Thou hast mine answer: life and liberty,
Tender'd with such conditions, are most hateful.
Together have we smiled, and wept together;
And interchanged such sympathy of thoughts,
That our fond bosoms did together grow
After one model, quality, and fashion:
And, as we ripen'd into youth, our hearts
Still beat in unison. Therefore I value
This precious jewel, (which thou dost despise)
More than the pride of courts, the wealth of worlds,
And all the tyrannous pomp of majesty.
Nor is it spleen, which moves me thus to swear,
She never shall be thine; it is the pure
And natural freedom of an honest heart,
Which (tho' intractable, and proud to stand
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Is ever mild and faithful in affection.
Thou hast mine answer: life and liberty,
Tender'd with such conditions, are most hateful.
ALOMPRA.—
(After a pause.)
Talábaan, there are, who high in power
Would ill have brook'd the rashness of thy spirit:
And thou hadst rue'd the freedom of thy tongue,
But that the noble fame, which thou hast borne,
Doth somewhat bend me towards thee; and I smile
To see, a woman hath enthrall'd thy soul.
Talien, there is an eminent post in life
Beyond the ken and thought of humble minds;
The thunder roars beneath it; and the storms,
That shake the frail abodes of meaner men,
Howl far below:—'tis sway, unlimited sway,
For which I steer my flight with eagle's eye.
From that high summit the capacious soul,
Which can undazzled meet the nearer ray
Of bright pre-eminence and dignity,
Views cities, empires, rich and boundless realms,
Within the wide horizon of its hopes.
And mine this post must be! for why should I
(To whom death comes, a necessary end)
Sit down in ease obscure, and vainly cherish
Inglorious age, dull and unprofitable?
Perchance thou deemest, that Alompra's foes
Lie prostrate, and all-glorious victory
Hath crown'd a mighty war?—To thee, all-glorious!
To such, whose petty souls were well content
To lose the omnipotent majesty of sway,
And sink upon the lap of wealth and ease!
O never hope to scan Alompra's mind,
Or grasp his projects! deemest thou, that he,
Whose arm resistless broke the bonds of fate,
And burst from servitude to power and glory,
Pants not to stand supreme in Asia's annals
Lord of each peopled realm and barren strand?
Would ill have brook'd the rashness of thy spirit:
And thou hadst rue'd the freedom of thy tongue,
But that the noble fame, which thou hast borne,
Doth somewhat bend me towards thee; and I smile
To see, a woman hath enthrall'd thy soul.
Talien, there is an eminent post in life
Beyond the ken and thought of humble minds;
The thunder roars beneath it; and the storms,
That shake the frail abodes of meaner men,
Howl far below:—'tis sway, unlimited sway,
For which I steer my flight with eagle's eye.
From that high summit the capacious soul,
Which can undazzled meet the nearer ray
Of bright pre-eminence and dignity,
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Within the wide horizon of its hopes.
And mine this post must be! for why should I
(To whom death comes, a necessary end)
Sit down in ease obscure, and vainly cherish
Inglorious age, dull and unprofitable?
Perchance thou deemest, that Alompra's foes
Lie prostrate, and all-glorious victory
Hath crown'd a mighty war?—To thee, all-glorious!
To such, whose petty souls were well content
To lose the omnipotent majesty of sway,
And sink upon the lap of wealth and ease!
O never hope to scan Alompra's mind,
Or grasp his projects! deemest thou, that he,
Whose arm resistless broke the bonds of fate,
And burst from servitude to power and glory,
Pants not to stand supreme in Asia's annals
Lord of each peopled realm and barren strand?
Learn, thou art now my subject! and, as such,
Talien and Birman find alike regard.
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TALABAAN.—
(Interrupting him.)
I am thy subject now; but, had I found
One sturdy province, bold enough to stand
And struggle by my side for independence,
I had not bow'd, but strove against thy throne
With my last breath.—I fail'd; and these frail limbs
Thine arm may sever; but, what most I prize,
(That jewel bright, which is the light of life)
The self-approving conscience, the dear pledge
And safe assurance of unshaken faith,
Thy power can never reach, nor fury move.
ALOMPRA.
Talábaan, thou bear'st a noble spirit,
But little dost thou ken the hero's soul.
Anger with him is like the passing gale,
Which leaves the day all cloudless and serene;
His breast ne'er glows with vengeance; wide and far
Havoc and desolation márk his course,
As the war's thunder wakes: but, when the din
Of victory has ceased, no vengeance stirs;
The hate of war lies buried with the slain.
Talien, my country groan'd in servile chains
Beneath the insulting foot of thy proud monarch.
My youthful years were silent; unobserv'd,
Unheeded was my path: till the full blaze
Of dauntless genius in meridian glory
Burst forth; and raising high my desperate standard
With thundering voice I roused the sleeping arm
Of heavenly liberty. At that strange sound
The enchanted people rose with one accord;
And, from the giddy seat of empire fallen,
Affrighted Apporaza fled amain
With all his legions.—Nor supine, nor slow,
I follow'd fortune-clad: nor paused the din
Of fell contention, till in fierce array
Before the mighty walls of old Pegue
My proud artillery made such hideous breach,
Your Taliens sued for mercy.—Mean of soul!
They were not then so fallen, that, to win
A shortlived respite, they should bow the knee,
And load disgrace on their posterity!
Dishonorable peace ne'er comes too late;
The brazen note of the relentless war
Sounds sweeter, than the carol of such peace,
Which oft doth, like a spiteful seamaid, sing
To lure its listeners: and such they found it.
The tiger, that has bathed his jaws in gore
Quits not his prey, until he's glutted with it:
Yet thought they, that the man, whose active mind
Grasps at the meed of universal empire
Would be content to clip their frontier towns;
To sit him down in indolence and peace,
And, having feasted on their foul disgrace,
Not thirst to trample on their weaken'd throne.
But little dost thou ken the hero's soul.
Anger with him is like the passing gale,
Which leaves the day all cloudless and serene;
His breast ne'er glows with vengeance; wide and far
Havoc and desolation márk his course,
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Of victory has ceased, no vengeance stirs;
The hate of war lies buried with the slain.
Talien, my country groan'd in servile chains
Beneath the insulting foot of thy proud monarch.
My youthful years were silent; unobserv'd,
Unheeded was my path: till the full blaze
Of dauntless genius in meridian glory
Burst forth; and raising high my desperate standard
With thundering voice I roused the sleeping arm
Of heavenly liberty. At that strange sound
The enchanted people rose with one accord;
And, from the giddy seat of empire fallen,
Affrighted Apporaza fled amain
With all his legions.—Nor supine, nor slow,
I follow'd fortune-clad: nor paused the din
Of fell contention, till in fierce array
Before the mighty walls of old Pegue
My proud artillery made such hideous breach,
Your Taliens sued for mercy.—Mean of soul!
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A shortlived respite, they should bow the knee,
And load disgrace on their posterity!
Dishonorable peace ne'er comes too late;
The brazen note of the relentless war
Sounds sweeter, than the carol of such peace,
Which oft doth, like a spiteful seamaid, sing
To lure its listeners: and such they found it.
The tiger, that has bathed his jaws in gore
Quits not his prey, until he's glutted with it:
Yet thought they, that the man, whose active mind
Grasps at the meed of universal empire
Would be content to clip their frontier towns;
To sit him down in indolence and peace,
And, having feasted on their foul disgrace,
Not thirst to trample on their weaken'd throne.
And deemest thou, I view no brighter meed,
No loftier palm of glory, than to rest
Stretch'd here in perfumed bowers, and waste my days
With careless dalliance in a maiden's arms?
So little do I prize the paltry toy,
(Save, that I thought thine all-presuming arm
In wanton pride had torn her from my camp)
That, wilt thou but unbend thy frowning brow,
The bauble shall be thine.
No loftier palm of glory, than to rest
Stretch'd here in perfumed bowers, and waste my days
With careless dalliance in a maiden's arms?
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(Save, that I thought thine all-presuming arm
In wanton pride had torn her from my camp)
That, wilt thou but unbend thy frowning brow,
The bauble shall be thine.
TALABAAN.
To threaten, Prince,
And strait those threats withdraw, awakes suspicion,
Which haply should not harbour in my mind.
For, dearly as I prize this precious boon,
I will not take it, as the rated pledge
Of servile adulation and submission.
Better to perish, innocent and brave,
Than for the rapture of a transient hour,
Sell life's true worth, and fame's immortal crown!
In the proud halls, where lawless pleasures dwell,
The conscious tear steals slowly; nor the voice
Of love, nor music can dispel the gloom,
Whose chilling phantasies assail the bosom.
Thy force, Alompra, has subdued my country,
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And now reigns here by conquest; thy fell power
Bestrides our empire with colossal weight:
But, if thou holdest with despotic arm
The iron rod of slaughter o'er the land,
To thee no ties can bind me! if sincere
Thou rul'st her sons with clemency and justice,
Thou need'st no pledge of mine allegiance.
ALOMPRA.
Nor other pledge, Talábaan, shall I seek,
Than the pure spirit of a virtuous bosom.
I scorn to wave the tyrannous lash of power
Over my meanest subject. From this day
Pegue and Ava shall unite their strength,
One mighty fabric, propt by ancient laws.
Be thou my faithful liegeman: much I need
Sage counsellors, to watch my people's weal,
And cure with precious balm the wounds of war.
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WILLIAM LAMBERT:
A TALE.
1799.
One April morn, when violets blow
And warbling songsters pair,
The Lady Margaret sat in bow'r
Braiding her yellow hair.
And warbling songsters pair,
The Lady Margaret sat in bow'r
Braiding her yellow hair.
Lovely she was beyond compare;
For on her blushing face,
On her sweet lip, and joyful eye,
Beam'd every gentle grace;
For on her blushing face,
On her sweet lip, and joyful eye,
Beam'd every gentle grace;
And in her heart, which ay inclined
At pity's touch to melt,
The sunshine pure of chaste delight,
The tender virtues dwelt.
At pity's touch to melt,
The sunshine pure of chaste delight,
The tender virtues dwelt.
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Her pleasant bower was raised beneath
An elm's delightful shade;
Beyond a verdant river wound
Along the sunny glade.
An elm's delightful shade;
Beyond a verdant river wound
Along the sunny glade.
A little boy with wistful gaze
Stood by the water side;
And, witless what he did, with stones
Disturb'd the shining tide.
Stood by the water side;
And, witless what he did, with stones
Disturb'd the shining tide.
His naked legs with flints were cut,
And all with blood besmear'd;
And on his melancholy cheeks
Pale silent grief appear'd.
And all with blood besmear'd;
And on his melancholy cheeks
Pale silent grief appear'd.
Fair Margaret gazed, and sigh'd, and gazed,
For pity touch'd her soul:
And from her eyes, the seat of love,
A still drop gently stole.
For pity touch'd her soul:
And from her eyes, the seat of love,
A still drop gently stole.
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“Why weep'st, my pretty boy? (she cried)
O tell me why so sad!
And why in rags so rude and torn
Those bleeding limbs are clad?”
O tell me why so sad!
And why in rags so rude and torn
Those bleeding limbs are clad?”
The little boy he nought replied;
His lips were numb'd with woe;
But sobs convuls'd his famish'd frame,
And tears gan fast to flow.
His lips were numb'd with woe;
But sobs convuls'd his famish'd frame,
And tears gan fast to flow.
“Nay, weep not thus, though cruel wants
Thy little heart assail;
But tell thy friends, those wants shall cease,
If aught my power avail.”—
Thy little heart assail;
But tell thy friends, those wants shall cease,
If aught my power avail.”—
“No friend have I in all the world,
Lady, no friend have I;
But here unpitied and alone
Must Willy bide and die.
Lady, no friend have I;
But here unpitied and alone
Must Willy bide and die.
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My father was a goodly wight
Of famous Birmingham;
A wife and children four had he,
And Lambert was his name.
Of famous Birmingham;
A wife and children four had he,
And Lambert was his name.
To sea he went, and far aloof
Sleeps in his watery tomb;
Nor e'er return'd, with pious care
To soothe my mother's doom.
Sleeps in his watery tomb;
Nor e'er return'd, with pious care
To soothe my mother's doom.
'Twas night: the wet and wintery blast
Came whistling through the shed,
Where faint with want and sad disease
Her feeble limbs were laid.
Came whistling through the shed,
Where faint with want and sad disease
Her feeble limbs were laid.
I saw her faded cheek grow pale,
And pale her rosy mouth;
And dim those eyes, which lately shone
With the sweet smile of youth.
And pale her rosy mouth;
And dim those eyes, which lately shone
With the sweet smile of youth.
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Then low she sunk her feeble head;
Her pulse forgot to play;
The faultering heart-strings throbb'd no more;
The spirit pass'd away.
Her pulse forgot to play;
The faultering heart-strings throbb'd no more;
The spirit pass'd away.
My sister too, a lovely maid,
The eldest of us four,
Clung to her neck with fainting arms,
And never spoke she more.
The eldest of us four,
Clung to her neck with fainting arms,
And never spoke she more.
Nor long my brothers two survived
To mourn their mother's grave;
While yet they were, we fondly shared
The bread, which pity gave.
To mourn their mother's grave;
While yet they were, we fondly shared
The bread, which pity gave.
Ah me! their little lives are gone!
Woe worth the cruel day!
For grief and hunger wrung their hearts,
And soon they pined away.
Woe worth the cruel day!
For grief and hunger wrung their hearts,
And soon they pined away.
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But I, the youngest of them all,
Remain to weep alone;
The chilling earth my nightly bed,
My pillow a cold stone.”—
Remain to weep alone;
The chilling earth my nightly bed,
My pillow a cold stone.”—
“Nay, weep not thus, but hie ye in,
And busk ye in my hall!
For I will clothe thy trembling limbs,
And give thee food withal.
And busk ye in my hall!
For I will clothe thy trembling limbs,
And give thee food withal.
For I will rear thee, pretty page,
To be thy country's pride;
And thou shalt fight fair England's foes,
E'en as thy father did.”
To be thy country's pride;
And thou shalt fight fair England's foes,
E'en as thy father did.”
The little boy he hied him in,
And busk'd him in the hall;
And soon he was all trimly dight,
And waxed stout withal.
And busk'd him in the hall;
And soon he was all trimly dight,
And waxed stout withal.
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“A boon, (he cried) fair Lady mine!
O send me not to sea!
For thou must be mine only friend,
And I must bide with thee.
O send me not to sea!
For thou must be mine only friend,
And I must bide with thee.
O let me here thy garden tend,
Hard by this pleasant bow'r;
Here deck the lawn with careful hand,
And rear each scented flow'r;
Hard by this pleasant bow'r;
Here deck the lawn with careful hand,
And rear each scented flow'r;
The soft primrose, the violet blue,
The glowing celandine;
And cuckoo-buds, and sorrel pale,
And luscious sweet woodbine.”
The glowing celandine;
And cuckoo-buds, and sorrel pale,
And luscious sweet woodbine.”
Fair Margaret smiled; the youth remain'd
Hard by her pleasant bow'r,
With grateful heart and careful hand
Rearing each scented flow'r.
Hard by her pleasant bow'r,
With grateful heart and careful hand
Rearing each scented flow'r.
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To call a blessing on her head
His daily prayer shall rise;
The prayer of innocence forlorn
Snatch'd from the brink of vice.
His daily prayer shall rise;
The prayer of innocence forlorn
Snatch'd from the brink of vice.
For plants, that bloom to-day, may fade,
And sweeter bloom again;
But innocence, that once is stain'd,
Shall ne'er its bloom regain.
And sweeter bloom again;
But innocence, that once is stain'd,
Shall ne'er its bloom regain.
88
A RIDDLE.
1799.
From Tweed's rude bank to Georgia's spicy shades,
Where'er her powerful charm fair Venus spreads,
With viewless steps and gentle breath I rove,
Daughter of Peace, and pledge of tender Love.
From cheek to cheek, from lip to lip, I stray;
And the fine nerves my thrilling touch obey.
Born on the blooming face of young Desire,
I live one moment, and the next expire.
Though warm to touch, though lovely as the day,
No eye can trace me, and no hand delay.
From dark Revenge, and Anger's savage eye,
From Hatred's lowering frown, I swiftly fly;
But with the tender solace of a friend
O'er pale Affliction's couch I fondly bend,
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Of half its pang the bleeding heart beguile;
And, when fierce Passion from the soul retires,
The cherub Peace my sacred seal requires.
But thou, chaste nymph, who seek'st my hidden name,
Know, that my breath can stir a fatal flame!
By that moist lip, warm cheek, and sparkling eye,
By all the charms, which on that bosom lie,
Though Love invite and Beauty call, beware!
Nor trust the tempting poison, that I bear!
90
WRITTEN
Immediately after the King's escape from the attempt made against his life by Hadfield.
1800.
If there are Spirits unseen, whose secret care
Soothes the sad bosom of the weeping Fair;
Whose hands immortal guide, where'er they move,
Deserted Innocence and hapless Love:
Some mightier spell protects that chosen breast,
On which a nation's hopes and safety rest!
Then let us bow to him, whose hallow'd arm
Has girt our king with many a potent charm;
To him, by whose command states fall or rise;
Who rolls the storms, and calms the troubled skies!
Nor us alone, whose grateful bosoms glow
With nearer joy at the averted blow;
But all, in every clime, whom social laws
Bind with just feelings to their country's cause;
Who dread to see the democratic storm
Confound their customs and their hearts deform!
Soothes the sad bosom of the weeping Fair;
Whose hands immortal guide, where'er they move,
Deserted Innocence and hapless Love:
Some mightier spell protects that chosen breast,
On which a nation's hopes and safety rest!
Then let us bow to him, whose hallow'd arm
Has girt our king with many a potent charm;
To him, by whose command states fall or rise;
Who rolls the storms, and calms the troubled skies!
Nor us alone, whose grateful bosoms glow
With nearer joy at the averted blow;
But all, in every clime, whom social laws
Bind with just feelings to their country's cause;
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Confound their customs and their hearts deform!
O thrice-loved Sire! the public voice shall raise
To thee the hymn of unpolluted praise;
Not that on each wide sea and distant shore
The hand of heaven has crown'd thine arms with pow'r:
But that unmoved mid Europe's changeful storm
Thy care preserves thy country's ancient form;
That still unshaken by the treacherous school,
Which saps the principles of social rule,
Thou never turn'st thee from thy sacred hold,
Misled by falsehood, or by threats appall'd;
That, while in tyrannous Gallia's bleeding land
Rapine and Vice and Power go hand in hand,
The pure example, which thy life imparts,
Corrects our morals and improves our hearts.
To thee the hymn of unpolluted praise;
Not that on each wide sea and distant shore
The hand of heaven has crown'd thine arms with pow'r:
But that unmoved mid Europe's changeful storm
Thy care preserves thy country's ancient form;
That still unshaken by the treacherous school,
Which saps the principles of social rule,
Thou never turn'st thee from thy sacred hold,
Misled by falsehood, or by threats appall'd;
That, while in tyrannous Gallia's bleeding land
Rapine and Vice and Power go hand in hand,
The pure example, which thy life imparts,
Corrects our morals and improves our hearts.
92
TO ------,
AFTER THE DEATH OF A BELOVED RELATION.
Though kindred friendship's dearest form
Had fondly wrought a mutual charm,
And doubled nature's tie;
Though fate has dealt a bitter day,
And torn that social charm away;
Yet check the painful sigh!
Had fondly wrought a mutual charm,
And doubled nature's tie;
Though fate has dealt a bitter day,
And torn that social charm away;
Yet check the painful sigh!
O! if those balmy tears, that fall,
The parting spirit could recall,
And warm the silent clay;
Then would I bid them doubly flow;
Then would I join the stream of woe,
Lamenting night and day.
The parting spirit could recall,
And warm the silent clay;
Then would I bid them doubly flow;
Then would I join the stream of woe,
Lamenting night and day.
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That spirit, here so truly loved,
To scenes of brighter joy removed
Still casts a look below;
And oft at hours of secret pray'r,
In dreams of rest, will oft be near,
To soothe the pang of woe.
To scenes of brighter joy removed
Still casts a look below;
And oft at hours of secret pray'r,
In dreams of rest, will oft be near,
To soothe the pang of woe.
For (if above it tastes of care)
I deem one only trouble there,
Which damps immortal bliss;
To know the grief, it left behind
In many a dear and kindred mind,
And hear their rising sighs.
I deem one only trouble there,
Which damps immortal bliss;
To know the grief, it left behind
In many a dear and kindred mind,
And hear their rising sighs.
Nor thou forget, that mournful here
There live, who mark each starting tear,
And grieve from sympathy;
Whose hearts with anxious wishes burn
To see the smile of joy return,
And light the sparkling eye!
There live, who mark each starting tear,
And grieve from sympathy;
Whose hearts with anxious wishes burn
To see the smile of joy return,
And light the sparkling eye!
102
SONG.
Joy to-night, and care to-morrow!
Dream of bliss, and wake to sorrow!
Grief may quickly fill its measure;
Fate may brightest hopes destroy:
But scarce the tear can learn to flow;
And scarce the tongue can talk of woe;
For long these eyes have beam'd with pleasure,
Long these lips have whisper'd joy.
Dream of bliss, and wake to sorrow!
Grief may quickly fill its measure;
Fate may brightest hopes destroy:
But scarce the tear can learn to flow;
And scarce the tongue can talk of woe;
For long these eyes have beam'd with pleasure,
Long these lips have whisper'd joy.
Fondest hearts are quickest broken:
Blissful words are easy spoken;
But, when fancy bleeding lies,
Lips are mute and cold as clay.
Yet, though the voice of anguish fail,
The eyes be dim, the visage pale,
Love's glowing passion never dies,
Till the pulse forgets to play.
Blissful words are easy spoken;
But, when fancy bleeding lies,
Lips are mute and cold as clay.
Yet, though the voice of anguish fail,
The eyes be dim, the visage pale,
Love's glowing passion never dies,
Till the pulse forgets to play.
THE END.
| Miscellaneous Poetry (1806) | |