Once more on English earth they stand: Ill-fated vessel!-ghastly shock! And through the stormy night they steer, "Silence!" the brave commander cried; But one dear remnant of the night- Six weeks beneath the moving sea To quit the ship for which he died And there they found him at her side, And bore him to the grave. Vain service! yet not vainly done For such a gentle soul and sweet, That neighbourhood of grove and field The birds shall sing and ocean make And thou, sweet flower, shalt sleep and wake THE NEW MOON WITH THE OLD. The dusky shape within her arms imbound, Which some have named her predecessor's ghost. Young, like the crescent that above me shone, I saw (ambition quickening at the view) And when I learned to mark the spectral shape, Now, dazzling stranger! when thou meet'st my glance, Emblem of thoughts too eager to advance ELEGIAC STANZAS. 1824. OH, for a dirge! But why complain? When Fermor's race is run; A garland of immortal boughs To bind around the Christian's brows, We pay a high and holy debt; Ill-worthy, Beaumont! were the grief When saints have passed away. Sad doom, at sorrow's shrine to kneel For ever covetous to feel And impotent to bear: Such once was hers-to think and think On severed love, and only sink From anguish to despair! But nature to its inmost part Calm as the dew-drop, free to rest Was ever spirit that could bend So promptly from her lofty throne!- Pale was her hue; yet mortal cheek But hushed be every thought that springs No thorns can pierce her tender feet, As snowdrop on an infant's grave, As vesper, ere the star hath kissed Thou takest not away, O death! The future brightens on our sight; |