THE DYING POET'S FAREWELL. Animula vagula, blandula, Hospes comesque corporis, Quæ nunc abibis in loca? ADRIAN. O THOU Wondrous arch of azure, Sun, and starry plains immense! Glories that astound the gazer, By their dread magnificence! O thou ocean, whose commotion Awes the proudest to devotion! Must I-must I from ye fly, Bid ye all adieu-and die? O ye keen and gusty mountains, On whose top I braved the sky! O ye music-pouring fountains, On whose marge I loved to lie! O ye posies,-lilies, roses, All the charms that earth discloses! Must I must I from ye fly, Bid ye all adieu-and die? O ye birds whose matin chorus Learned leisure, and the pleasure Must I must I from ye fly, Bid ye all adieu-and die? O domestic ties endearing, Which still chain my soul to earth! O ye friends, whose converse cheering, Wing'd the hours with social mirth! Songs of gladness, chasing sadness, Must I-must I from ye fly, Bid ye all adieu-and die? Yes I now fulfil the fiction Of the swan that sings in death ;- Earth, receive my benediction, Air, inhale my parting breath; Hills and valleys, forest alleys, Prompters of my muse's sallies, Take, oh! take my last adieu. Yet perhaps when all is ended, And the grave dissolves my frame, The elements from which 'twas blended May their several parts reclaim; SONNETS. ETERNAL and Omnipotent Unseen! Who bad'st the world, with all its lives complete, Start from the void and thrill beneath thy feet, Thee I adore with reverence serene; Here, in the fields, thine own cathedral meet, Built by thyself, star-roof'd, and hung with green, Organ'd by winds, perpetual hymns repeat. Here hast thou spread that Book to every eye, Whose tongue and truth all, all may read and prove, On whose three blessed leaves-Earth, Ocean, Sky, Thine own right hand hath stamp'd might, justice, love; Grand Trinity, which binds in due degree, God, man, and brute, in social unity. |