Now in their turn assisting, they repay The anxious cares of many and many a day; A feeling of enjoyment. In his walks, Leaning on them, how oft he stops and talks, But there are moments which he calls his own. But where a light as from the Blessed falls, A light such guests bring ever-pure and holy— Lapping the soul in sweetest melancholy! -Ah then less willing (nor the choice condemn) To live with others than to think on them! By deeds of virtue done or to be done. When on his couch he sinks at length to rest, 'Tis past! That hand we grasped, alas, in vain! Nor shall we look upon his face again! But to his closing eyes, for all were there, Nothing was wanting; and, through many a year We shall remember with a fond delight The words so precious which we heard to-night; His parting, though awhile our sorrow flows, Then was the drama ended. Not till then, When by a good man's grave I muse alone, Like those of old, on that thrice-hallowed night, Who sate and watched in raiment heavenly bright; And, with a voice inspiring joy not fear, Says, pointing upward, " Know, He is not here!" Of Pleasure some, of Happiness a few; And, as the sun goes round-a sun not ours While from her lap another Nature showers Gifts of her own, some from the crowd retire, NOTES. P. 80, 1. 8. Stand still to gaze, See the Iliad, l. xviii. v. 496. P. 82, 1. 17. Our pathway leads but to a precipice; See BOSSUET, Sermon sur la Résurrection. P. 83, 1. 4. We fly; no resting for the foot we find; "I have considered," says Solomon, "all the works that are under the sun; and behold all is vanity and vexation of spirit." But who believes it, till death tells it us? It is death alone that can suddenly make man to know himself. He tells the proud and insolent, that they are but abjects, and humbles them at the instant. He takes the account of the rich man, and proves him a beggar, a naked beggar. He holds a glass before the eyes of the most beautiful, and makes them see therein their deformity; and they acknowledge it. O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none have dared, thou |