Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB
[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed]

Not quite so fair as many are

In heaven above thee;

Yet like a star, with glittering crest,

Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest ;-
May peace come never to his nest
Who shall reprove thee!

Bright flower!-for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,

I call thee, and to that cleave fast,-
Sweet silent creature,

That breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature.

Address to the Scholars of a Village-School on the Death of their Master.

I COME, ye little noisy crew,

Not long your pastime to prevent;
I heard the blessing which to you
Our common friend and father sent.
I kissed his cheek before he died;
And when his breath was fled,
I raised, while kneeling by his side,

His hand-it dropped like lead.
Your hands, dear little ones, do all
That can be done, will never fall

Like his till they are dead.

[ocr errors]

By night or day, blow foul or fair

Ne'er will the best of all your train
Play with the locks of his white hair
Or stand between his knees again.

Here did he sit confined for hours;

But he could see the woods and plains, Could hear the wind, and mark the showers

Come streaming down the steaming panes : Now stretched beneath his grass-green mound, He rests a prisoner of the ground.

He loved the breathing air;

He loved the sun; but if it rise
Or set, to him, where now he lies,

Brings not a moment's care.

Alas, what idle words! but take

The Dirge, which, for our master's sake
And yours, love prompted me to make.
The rhymes, so homely in attire,

With learned ears may ill agree;
But chanted by your orphan quire,
Will make a touching melody.

[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed]
[graphic][subsumed][subsumed][subsumed]
« AnteriorContinuar »