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All, all are fled; yet still I linger here!
Mark yon old Mansion frowning thro' the trees,
See, thro' the fractured pediment revealed,
As jars the hinge, what sullen echoes call !
Now stained with dews, with cobwebs darkly hung,
And orphan-sorrows drew the ready tear.
Ye Household Deities! whose guardian eye
As o'er the dusky furniture I bend, Each chair awakes the feelings of a friend. The storied arras, source of fond delight, With old achievement charms the wildered sight; And still, with Heraldry's rich hues imprest, On the dim window glows the pictured crest. The screen unfolds its many-coloured chart. The clock still points its moral to the heart. That faithful monitor 'twas heaven to hear, When soft it spoke a promised pleasure near; And has its sober hand, its simple chime, Forgot to trace the feathered feet of Time ? That massive beam, with curious carvings wrought, Whence the caged linnet soothed my pensive thought; Those muskets, cased with venerable rust; Those once-loved forms, still breathing thro' their dust, Still, from the frame in mould gigantic cast, Starting to life-all whisper of the Past!
As thro' the garden's desert paths I rove, What fond illusions swarm in every grove! How oft, when purple evening tinged the west, We watched the emmet to her grainy nest; Welcomed the wild-bee home on weary wing, Laden with sweets, the choicest of the spring ! How oft inscribed, with Friendship's votive rhyme, The bark now silvered by the touch of Time; Soared in the swing, half pleased and half afraid, Thro' sister elms that waved their summer-shade;