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Then comes, sweet nymph, instead of the
If the fair star of fortune smile,
If Heav'n, in ev'ry purpose wise,
And for the due bread of the day,
Howe'er exalted or deprest,
O for that sympathetic glow
It comes : it fills my lab'ring breast,
To Heav'n she turns in deep despair ; : Her infants wonder at her pray'r,
And, mingling tears they know not why,
Life, fill'd with grief's distressful train,
Parent of virtue, if thine ear
Attend not now to sorrow's cry; If now the pity-streaming tear
Should haply on thy cheek be dry, Indulge my votive strain, O sweet Humanity I ELEGY.
Dark gathering clouds involve the threatening
skies, • The sea heaves conscious of the impending
gloom, • Deep, hollow murmurs from the cliffs arise ; They come-the Spirits of the Tempest come!
• Oh! may such terrors mark the approaching
night • As reign’d on that these streaming eyes deplore! • Flash, ye red fires. of heaven, with fatal light, • And with conflicting winds, ye waters, roar!
• Loud and more louds ye foaming billows! burst!
Ye warring elements, more fiercely rave ! • Till the wide waves o’erwhelm the spot accørst,
Where ruthless Avarice finds a quiet grave !"
Thus with clasp'd hands, wild looks, and stream
ing hair, While shrieks of horror broke her trembling
speech, A wretched maid—the victim of despair, Survey'd the threatening storm and desart beech :
Then to the towb where now the father slept Whose rugged nature bade her sorrows flow, Frantic she turn'd--and beat her breast and
wept, Invoking vengeance on the dust below.
• Lo ! rising there above each lumber heap, • Yon cypher'd stones his name and wealth relate, • Who gave his son-remorseless-to the deep, • While I, his living victim, curse my fate.
« Oht my lost love! no tomb is plaod for thee, • That way to strangers eyes thy worth imparts • Thou hast no grave, but in the stormy sea, • And no memorial but this breaking heart.
• Forth to the world, a widow'd wanderer driven, I pour to winds and waves the unheeded tear,
Try with vain effort to submit to heaven, • And fruitless call on him_" who cannot hear.”
• Oh! might I fondly clasp him once again, " While o'er my head the infuriate billows pour, • Forget in death this agonizing pain, • And feel his father's cruelty no more !
Part, raging waters part, and shew beneath, • In your dread cayes, his pale and mangled form; • Now, while the demons of despair and death • Ride on the blast, and urge the howling ster