Then at sad Meditation's silent hour 9
A thousand wishes steal upon the heart;
And, whilst they meekly bend to Heaven's high power,
Ah! think 'tis hard, 'tis surely hard to part:
To part from every hope that brought delight, 10
From those that loved them, those they loved so much!
Then Fancy swells the picture on the sight,
And softens every scene at every touch.
Sweet as the mellowed woods beneath the moon, 11
Remembrance lends her soft-uniting shades;
"Some natural tears she drops, but wipes them soon:"—
The world retires, and its dim prospect fades!
Airs of delight, that soothe the aching sense; 12
Waters of health, that through yon caverns glide;
Oh! kindly yet your healing powers dispense,
And bring back feeble life's exhausted tide!
Perhaps to these gray rocks and mazy springs 13
Some heart may come, warmed with the purest fire;
For whom bright Fancy plumes her radiant wings,
And warbling Muses wake the lonely lyre.
Some orphan Maid, deceived in early youth, 14
Pale o'er yon spring may hang in mute distress;
Who dream of faith, of happiness, and truth,
Of love—that Virtue would protect and bless.
Some musing Youth in silence there may bend, 15
Untimely stricken by sharp Sorrow's dart;
For friendship formed, yet left without a friend,
And bearing still the arrow at his heart.
Such was lamented Russell's[19] early doom, 16
The gay companion of our stripling prime;
Ev'n so he sank unwept into the tomb,
And o'er his head closed the dark gulph of time.
Hither he came, a wan and weary guest, 17
A softening balm for many a wound to crave;
And wooed the sunshine to his aching breast,
Which now seems smiling on his verdant grave!
He heard the whispering winds that now I hear, 18
As, boding much, along these hills he passed;
Yet ah! how mournful did they meet his ear
On that sad morn he heard them for the last!