ON A TEAR. OH! that the Chemist's magic art Could crystallize this sacred treasure! Long should it glitter near my heart, A secret source of pensive pleasure. The little brilliant, ere it fell, Its lustre caught from CHLOE's eye; Then, trembling, left its coral cell- Sweet drop of pure and pearly light! Than any gem that gilds the mine. Benign restorer of the soul! Who ever fly'st to bring relief, When first we feel the rude controul Of Love or Pity, Joy or Grief. The sage's and the poet's theme, That very law * which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course. *The law of gravitation. TO A VOICE THAT HAD BEEN LOST.* Vane, quid affectas faciem mihi ponere, pictor? Et, si vis similem pingere, pinge sonum. AUSONIUS. ONCE Once more we hail thy soft controul. To what bright region of the sky? Thy raptures to the pure in heart? Perhaps to many a desert shore, Thee, in his rage, the Tempest bore; * In the winter of 1805. Thy broken murmurs swept along, Arrested in the realms of Frost, Or in the wilds of Ether lost. Far happier thou! 'twas thine to soar, Careering on the winged wind. Thy triumphs who shall dare explore? Suns and their systems left behind. No tract of space, no distant star, No shock of elements at war, Did thee detain. Thy wing of fire Bore thee amidst the Cherub-choir; strain from Heaven! * Mrs. Sheridan's. |