« FöregåendeFortsätt »
O power divine! dispelling all deception,
Brushing with angel wing the earthy scale From off our eyes, thus rectifies the sight, And places objects in their proper light.
With such new optics now the world surveying,
What is it 1 a kaleidoscopic show,
Sad, everlasting change through all below;
O solemn truths! and I have found them so; But little now my lonely heart endears, Wrecked are my joys, and passed with other years.
And what is life? a fleeting, vain illusion!
Brief as the flowers that flourish and decay; Soon sets the sun, that heralds the conclusion
E'en of the longest and the brightest day. Another smile, a heartache, an effusion
Of tears, and then we sighing pass away. How loved, how honoured once, avails us not; Death deals the blow, regardless of our lot.
O melancholy thoughts! to mind recalling
Those years when all was hope and promise fair,
The bosom light and buoyant, nothing palling
But soon the blasting mildew, ruthless falling
Hath shed a bleak and cheerless gloomy wild,
Where once for me the glowing Summer smiled.
Nature in hope may wait the Spring returning,
The longing mother change for joy her mourning,
But Hope's bright taper here hath ceased its burning:
The temple of the heart now stands alone—
The spell is broken—the enchantress gone.
But oh! by Heaven, can I forget her? Never!
Sooner the thirsty soul shall loathe the stream, The weary rest, the miser cease for ever
Of his dear idol—heaps of gold—to dream,
Shall cease to cherish homage and esteem—
I saw the gangrene daily undermining
For months she drooped, and nature fast declining,
At length she lay like a young flower reclining,
Her charms the heart in silence then wept o'er,
And felt as if it ne'er had loved before.
She was, in fact, a living concentration
Of all that heaven could love and earth admire;
How lost to virtue and divine sensation,
Her blushing cheeks then mocked the fair carnation;
And oh! those eyes of intellectual fire,
Still fast the fell destroyer seemed progressing,
Another change my soul anew distressing,
And o'er her angel form unsparing passing,
Deep was the groan, and heavy rose the sigh—
Methought it surely terrible to die.
I saw the golden bowl was yet unbroken,
The jewel in the casket lingered still; Whose final flight each moment did betoken,
O righteous Heaven, how trying was Thy will; For ere the man of God had ceased invoking
The blessing, with all tenderness and skill, She gave a moan and a convulsive quiver, Then all was o'er—the spirit past for ever!
Strange must that moment be, our journey ending—
Mysterious to the wisest as to me— When feel we on that hairbreadth footing standing,
The all to mortals then of time that be,
Amid the dawnings of eternity;
To face her Judge omniscient and unerring,
And hear Him from her deeds her doom inferring,
And by his fiat solemn her transferring
To realms of bliss, or shades of endless night!
What scenes and secrets may she not behold 1
And who her last sensations can unfold?
There is an awful something past revealing,
That neutralises every earthly feeling,
And CTthat lonely sorrow o'er us stealing!
Whose torch divine dispels the deepest gloom,
And lights beyond the desert of the tomb.
Soon must that king of terrors—thanks to Heaven—
The iron sceptre of his power resign.
O Grave, thy slumbering treasures are not thine! Of restitution was an earnest given
When rose thy Spoiler glorious and divine, Who captive led captivity that hour, Triumphant by His own almighty power.
iHence friends shall meetwhom Death had long divided,
And welcome in embrace each other dear, , Whose kindred souls again shall be united i In bands of love eternal and sincere.
No more their joys by sorrow shall be blighted; God from their eyes shall wipe off every tear. Hail to that morn when all shall thus transpire! Blessed consummation! my supreme desire.
LOVE NOT THE WORLD.
fOVE not the world! O precept how divine! In which the wisdom from above we trace, Breathed forth in accents glowing and benign,
Adapted truly to our state and place:
Love not the world! Its pleasures and its joys,
Vain fancy fruit, no sooner plucked than cloys, And o'er her Folly leaves the heart to grieve:
Believe not youth, but reverently inquire
The truth, if dubious, from the aged sire.
Love not the world! ah, why in riches trust?
Precarious duping foibles of a day; To-morrow may your golden heaps, as dust
Before the blast, for ever pass away, Involving in their flight that fatal hour, All earthly honour, dignity, and power.