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Yet, ah ! the other bland associations
To memory they vividly recall.
How soft as sunshine on the fancy fall;
Ere o'er their vestal loveliness her pall
I love the flowers !—still sacred in affection,
In pleasing sorrow are they not enshrined? Rooted in hallowed, living recollection,
As round the past seraphic'ly entwined, Renewing dreams of fairy joys departed,
Young loves extinguished, friendships long resigned; Enchanting all, when life's career I started,
The heaven-rained vital manna of the mind.
O to retrace, amid a vale of tears,
1 love the flowers !—dear types of flow'rets riven
From the fond heart in life's maturer day. Ah! scarce the sun ascended the mid-heaven,
Till swept the blast my brightest hopes away, Leaving for me, for scenes of love and gladness,
A lonely desert reft of every stay;
Inspiring only sorrow and dismay.
I love the flowers !—but why so thus dejected
For those my dear, my loved companions gone, While in the fate of every gem reflected,
Intuitively I image but my own?
As birds of kindred feather having flown,
In realms where death and sorrow are unknown, Oh ecstasy! oh transport ! how divine. Hail to that morn—it ever shall be mine.
I love the flowers!—thrice welcome their arrival,
Sweet hopeful captives from their dungeon cold, As eloquent prepledging man's revival,
Ere long, immortal from his native mould; And ah! the sage, the sacred admonition,
Their fleeting forms and loveliness unfold,
And part with time as misers with their gold!
'551' HERE is a well-spring Nature kind discloses
'Tis there the balmy vernal dews of heaven
An impulse sacred to its powers is given,
There peace, content, aad love united nourish
The social joys, the feelings there we cherish,
There is a balm for every wound, a pleasure
Despite of honour and of countless treasure:
When absent, deep in pleasing recollection
While soft a thousand tendrils of affection
Dear source of many a sigh and sweet sensation,
Touched by thy magnet, fond imagination
In fairy dreams revisits, and retraces
That blessed abode where kindred spirits dwell,
There scans with gladness the familiar faces
Charmed with the well-known music of their voices,
The spell-bound soul re-mingles and rejoices,
In vain we ramble, other realms exploring,
To find a like Elysian retreat;
And cold at best the sympathy we meet.
O hallowed truths ! acknowledged and conceded
For, ah ! that lovely scene, how hardly need it
ODE TO THE DEITY.
|H! mystery of mysteries art Thou;
Thought struggling labours from her mine to call Of Thee conceptions adequate in vain,
In whom all intellect is, as when fall Into the boundless ocean drops of rain;
Unseen by mortal eye art Thou alone,
Whom we call God, but little more is known.
To the great law of causes and effects, •
Of all existence we our knowledge owe,
Intuitively, whence all things first began;
Before all time, and Nature's mighty plan,
Beneath Thy august and eternal throne
All is vicissitude and ceaseless change;
But no commotions nor events derange Thy schemes and counsels, hallow'd be Thy name!
For thou alone remainest, passing strange, From age to age, immutably the same—
The ever-blessed God, in whom unite
All rectitude, perfection infinite.