Those lips—their least motion
Was music to me,
And, like light on the ocean,
Those eyes seem’d to be:
Are they mute—and for ever?
The spell will not break;
Are they closed—must I never
Behold them awake?
When distress was around me
Thy smiles were as balm,
That in misery found me,
And left me in calm:
Success became dearer
When thou wert with me,
And the clear sky grew clearer
When gaz’d on with thee.
Thou art gone—and tho’ reason
My grief would disarm,
I feel there’s a season
When grief has a charm;
And ’tis sweeter, far sweeter
To sit by thy grave,
Than to follow Hope’s meteor
Down time’s hasty wave.
In darkness we laid thee—
The earth for thy bed—
The couch that we made thee
Is press’d by thee dead:
In sorrow’s film shrouded,
Our eyes could not see
The glory unclouded
That opened on thee.
Thou canst not, pure spirit,
Return to the dust,
But we may inherit—
So humbly we trust—
The joys without measure
To which thou art gone,
The regions of pleasure
Where tears are unknown.
H.
EFFECT OF CONSCIENCE.
On the 30th of March, 1789, 360l. was carried to the account of the public, in consequence of the following note received by the chancellor of the exchequer.
“Sir—You will herewith receive bank notes to the amount of 360l. which is the property of the nation, and which, as an honest man, you will be so just as to apply to the use of the state in such manner that the nation may not suffer by its having been detained from the public treasury. You are implored to do this for the ease of conscience to an honest man.”