This temporary transport soon expir'd,
My drooping heart confess'd a dreadful void:
E'er since, alas! abandon'd, uninspir'd,
I tread this dome, to misery allied.
No wak'ning joy informs my sullen breast,
Thro' op'ning skies no radiant seraph smiles,
No saint descends to sooth my soul to rest,
No dream of bliss the dreary night beguiles.
Here haggard Discontent still haunts my view;
The sombre genius reigns in ev'ry place,
Arrays each virtue in the darkest hue,
Chills ev'ry prayer, and cancels ev'ry grace.
I meet her ever in the cheerless cell,
The gloomy grotto and unsocial wood :
I hear her ever in the midnight bell,
The hollow gale, and hoarse resounding flood.
This caus'd a mother's tender tears to flow,
(The sad remembrance time shall ne'er erase)
When, having seal'd th' irrevocable vow,
I hasten'd to receive her last embrace.
Full well she then presag'd my wretched fate, Th' unhappy moments of each future day : When lock'd within this terror-shedding grate, My joy-deserted soul wou'd pine away.
Yet ne'er did her maternal voice unfold
The cloister'd scene in all its horrors drest,
Nor did she then my trembling steps withhold,
When here I enter'd a reluctant guest.
Ah! could she view her only child betray'd,
And let submission o'er her love prevail?
Th' unfeeling priest why did she not upbraid ?
Forbid the vow, and rend the hov❜ring veil?
Alas! she might not-her relentless lord
Had seal'd her lips, and chid her streaming tear,
So anguish in her breast conceal'd its hoard,
And all the mother sunk in dumb despair..
But thou, who own'st a father's sacred name,
What act impell'd thee to this ruthless deed?
What crime had forfeited my filial claim?
And given (oh, tort'ring thought!) thy heart to bleed?
If then thine injur'd child deserve thy care,
Oh, haste and bear her from this lonesome gloom!
In vain no words can sooth his rigid ear:
And Galia's laws have rivetted my doom.
Ye cloister'd fair-ye censer-breathing saints,
Suppress your taunts, and learn at length to spare,
Tho' mid these holy walls I vent my plaints,
And give to sorrow what is due to pray'r.
I fled not to this mansion's deep recess
To veil the blushes of a guilty shame,
The tenor of an ill-spent life redress,
And snatch from infamy a sinking name.
Yet let me to my fate submissive bow;
From fatal symptoms, if I right conceive,
This stream, Ophelia, has not long to flow,
This voice to murmur, and this breast to heave.
Ah! when extended on th' untimely bier
To yonder vault this form shall be convey'd,
Thou❜lt not refuse to shed one grateful tear,
And breathe the requiem to my fleeting shade.
With pious footstep join the sable train,
As thro' the lengthening aisle they take their way;
A glimm'ring taper let thy hand sustain,
Thy soothing voice attune the funeral lay :
Behold the minister who lately gave
The sacred veil, in garb of mournful hue,
(More friendly office) bending o'er my grave,
And sprinkling my remains with hallow'd dew:
As o'er the corse he strews the rattling dust,
The sternest heart will raise compassion's sigh:
Ev'n then, no longer to his child unjust,
The tears may trickle from a father's eye.
SAY, faded maid, why thy pale beauty wears,
In gloomy contrast, that dark suit of woe;
And why, with lavish gush, thy frequent tears
That little painted semblance thus o'erflow.
Why rov'st thou sad beneath the willow's shade,
Whose down-cast boughs these lonely waters lave?
And why, as oft thy wand'ring foot is staid,
View'st thou, with wishful gaze, the fatal wave?
Lo! 'tis the blooming morning of the year!
Lo, blander suns light up the glorious sky!
O'er all the glowing fields the flowers appear,
And new-clad woods swell beauteous on the eye!
'Tis Nature's revel! all her works rejoice!
Gay laughs the landscape, all that lives is gay!
Light bound the flocks! the birds exalt their voice!
And all things shout, and bless delightful May! ́
Join the gay jubilee of earth and skies,
And let thine heart to rapture tune its strings!
Why from thy lips thus flow dissentient sighs,
While all around exulting Nature sings?
"Go, talk of spring to other eyes than mine! Insulted sorrow loathes the wanton scene:
'Tis nought to me that suns more kindly shine, That skies are azure, or that fields are green.
"Alike to me, if low'rs or smiles the day;
If snows deface, or flowers adorn the plains;
My frozen breast admits no genial ray ;
There winter, everlasting winter, reigns!
"Yon ample roof of heaven, thou deem'st so fair,
Where thy pleas'd eyes such gladsome splendours see,
Though the broad arch its proudest glories wear,
Is but a cavern's darksome vault to me!
"No use have I for all this flood of light:
No more for me the lamps of day arise :
The only form, that now could charm my sight,
No sun can show to these abandon'd eyes!
"This throbbing heart, of softest feelings made,
A heart that answer'd all its feelings found:
Nor wants cold blast our blissful loves forbade,
Nor adverse kindred on our union frown'd:
"But, 'tis an iron world: 'tis wild to look
For gentler hours of love and gladness here:
This rocking scene thro' all its frame is shook,
And peace inhabits in some other sphere.
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