ON READING THE POEM ON SOLITUDE,

In the second Volume of H. K. White's "Remains.”

BUT art thou thus indeed " alone?"
Quite unbefriended-all unknown?
And hast thou then his name forgot,
Who form'd thy frame and fix'd thy lot?

Is not his voice in evening's gale?

Beams not with him the "star" so pale?
There's not a leaf can fade and die
Unnotic'd by his watchful eye.

Each flutt'ring hope-each anxious fear-
Each lonely sigh-each silent tear-
To thine Almighty Friend are known;
And say'st thou, thou art "all alone?"

J. C.

ON THE DEATH OF HENRY KIRKE WHITE.

TOO, too prophetic did thy wild note swell,
Impassion'd minstrel! when its pitying wail
Sigh'd o'er the vernal primrose as it fell

Untimely, wither'd by the northern gale*.
Thou wert that flower of promise and of prime!
Whose opening bloom mid many an adverse blast
Charm'd the lone wanderer through this desart clime,
But charm'd him with a rapture soon o'ercast,
To see thee languish into quick decay.
Yet was not thy departing immature :
For ripe in virtue thou wert reft away,
And

pure in spirit, as the blest are pure;

Pure as the dew-drop, freed from earthly leaven,

That sparkles, is exhal'd, and blends with heaven +!

T. PARK.

* See Clifton Grove, p. 16, ed. 1803.

+ Young, I think, says of Philander, "he sparkled, was exhaled, and went to Heaven."

POEMS,

WRITTEN BEFORE THE PUBLICATION OF

CLIFTON GROVE.