OH! laurel'd bard, how can I part, Those cheering smiles no more to see, Until my soothed and solaced heart Pours forth one grateful lay to thee? Fair virtue tuned thy youthful breath, And peace and pleasure bless thee now; For love and beauty guard the wreath That blooms upon thy manly brow. The Indian, leaning on his bow, On hostile cliff, in desert drear, Cast with less joy his glance below, When came some friendly warrior near; The native dove of that warm isle Where oft, with flowers, my lyre was drest, Sees with less joy the sun awhile When vertic rains have drench'd her nest, Than I, a stranger, first beheld Thine eye's harmonious welcome given With gentle word, which, as it swell'd, Came to my heart benign as heaven. Soft be thy sleep, as mists that rest On Skiddaw's top at summer morn; Smooth be thy days as Derwent's breast, When summer light is almost gone! And yet, for thee, why breathe a prayer? I deem thy fate is given in trust To seraphs, who by daily care, Would prove that heaven is not unjust. And treasured shall thine image be In memory's purest, holiest shrine, While truth and honour glow in thee, Or life's warm quivering pulse is mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAUGHTERS OF JEPHTHA by LOUIS UNTERMEYER CUDDLE DOON by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE FALLEN STAR by GEORGE DARLEY PORTRAIT OF A LADY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: THE SECOND CANTO, OR FIRST QUARTER by WILLIAM BASSE WOULD YOU RETURN? by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN NO SORROW PECULIAR TO THE SUFFERER by VINCENT BOURNE THE MONEY DIGGERS by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD EPITAPH ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SUSAN, COUNTESS OF MONTGOMERY by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |