But is Her magic only felt below? Say, thro' what brighter realms she bids it flow; She yields delight but faintly imag'd here: Each scene of bliss revealed, since chaos fled, And dawning light its dazzling glories spread; Full on her tablet flings its living rays, And all, combined, with blest effulgence blaze. 360 There thy bright train, immortal Friendship, soar; No more to part, to mingle tears no more! The joys and sorrows of our infant-years, 376 So there the soul, released from human strifeli ei te Smiles at the little cares and ills of life;" Its lights and shades, its sunshine and its showers; Oft may the spirits of the dead descend And hold sweet converse on the dusky green; 400 To hail the spot where first their friendship grew, And heaven and nature opened to their view! Oft, when he trims his cheerful hearth, and sees There may these gentle guests delight to dwell, Oh thou! with whom my heart was wont to share The humble walks of happiness below; If thy blest nature now unites above An angel's pity with a brother's love, "410 Grant me thy peace and purity of mind, Devout yet cheerful, active yet resign'd; Grant me, like thee, whose heart knew no disguise, To meet the changes Time and Chance present, And Place and Time are subject to thy sway! 420 436 Thy pleasures most we feel, when most alone; Lighter than air, Hope's summer-visions die, 405 Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour? 443 These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight, Pour round her path a stream of living light; And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest, tartUp springs, at every step, to claim a tear, I CAME to the place of my birth, and cried, “The friends of my Youth, where are they?"-And an echo answered, "Where are they?" From an Arabic MS. + NOTE b. P. 16, l. 1. Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise! When a traveller, who was surveying the ruins of Rome, expressed a desire to possess some relic of its antient grandeur, Poussin, who attended him, stooped down, and, gathering up a handful of earth shining with small grains of porphyry, "Take this home," said he, "for your cabinet; and say boldly, Questa è Roma Antica." NOTE C. P. 17, 1. 8. The church-yard yews round which his fathers sleep; Every man, like Gulliver in Lilliput, is fastened to some spot of earth, by the thousand small threads which habit and association are continually stealing over him. Of these, perhaps, one of the strongest is here alluded to. When the Canadian Indians were once solicited to emigrate, "What!" they replied, "shall we say to the bones of our fathers, Arise, and go with us into a foreign land?" |