Virtue alone no dissolution fears, Still permanent, tho' ages roll away; Who builds on her immortal basis, rears A superstructure time can ne'er decay. THE peaceful Evening breathes her balmy store, The playful school-boys wanton o'er the green; Where spreading poplars shade the cottage-door, The villagers in rustic joy convene. Amid the secret windings of the wood, The river murmurs, and the breathing gale 10 How bright, emerging o'er yon broom-clad height, The silver empress of the night appears! The waters tumbling o'er their rocky bed, August and hoary, o'er the sloping dale, 20 The Gothic abbey rears its sculptur'd towers; Dull through the roofs resounds the whistling gale; Dark Solitude among the pillars lowers. Where yon old trees bend o'er a place of graves, There oft, at dawn, as one forgot behind, Who longs to follow, yet unknowing where,32 Some hoary shepherd, o'er his staff reclin'd, Pores on the graves, and sighs a broken prayer. High o'er the pines, that with their darkening shade Its crumbling turrets: still its towery head So, midst the snow of Age, a boastful air Still on the war-worn veteran's brow attends; Still his big bones his youthful prime declare, Tho', trembling o'er the feeble crutch, he bends. 4. Wild round the gates the dusky wall-flowers creep, 'Twas here our sires exulting from the fight, 579 This bank, the river, and the fanning breeze, When April's smiles the flowery lawn adorn, Him, with her purest flames the Muse endow'd, In all her charms; he saw, he felt, and died. Oh partner of my infant griefs and joys! Big with the scenes now past my heart o'erflows, Bids each endearment, fair as once, to rise, And dwells luxurious on her melting woes. Oft with the rising sun, when life was new, The sainted well, where yon bleak hill declines, For Thou art gone-My guide, my friend, oh where, How dreary is the gulph, how dark, how void, Hope faulters, and the soul recoils aghast. |