The blafts of heav'n, the drenching dews of earth, The wanton infults of unfeeling mirth; Thefe, when to guard Misfortune's facred grave, Will firm Fidelity exult to brave. Led by what chart, transports the timid dove 325 The wreaths of conqueft, or the vows of love? Say, thro' the clouds what compass points her flight? Monarchs have gaz'd, and nations blefs'd the fight. Pile rocks on rocks, bid woods and mountains rise, Eclipfe her native fhades, her native fkies; 330 "Tis vain! thro' Ether's pathlefs wilds fhe goes, And lights at laft where all her cares repose. Sweet bird! thy truth fhall Harlem's walls atteft,'5 And unborn ages confecrate thy neft. When with the filent energy of grief, With looks that ask'd, yet dar'd not hope relief, 335 Want, with her babes, round generous Valour clung, To wring the flow furrender from his tongue, "Twas thine to animate her closing eye; Alas! 'twas thine perchance the firft to die, 340 Crush'd by her meagre hand, when welcom'd from the sky. Hark! the bee winds her fmall but mellow horn,16 Blithe to falute the funny smile of morn. O'er thymy downs fhe bends her bufy course, And many a stream allures her to its fource. 345 'Tis noon, 'tis night. That eye fo finely wrought, Beyond the search of fenfe, the foar of thought, Now vainly asks the scenes she left behind; Its orb fo full, its vifion fo confin'd! Who guides the patient pilgrim to her cell? 350 Who bids her foul with conscious triumph fwell? With confcious truth retrace the mazy clue Of varied fcents, that charm'd her as she flew? Hail, MEMORY, hail! thy univerfal reign 2 Guards the leaft link of Being's glorious chain. 355 THE END OF THE FIRST PART. |