Poor lost Alonzo! Fate's neglected child!

Mild be the doom of Heav'n-as thou wert mild!
For oh! thy heart in holy mould was cast,

And all thy deeds were blameless, but the last.

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Poor lost Alonzo! still I seem to hear

The clod that struck thy hollow-sounding bier!

When Friendship paid, in speechless sorrow drown'd,
Thy midnight rites, but not on hallow'd ground!

Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind,

But leave-oh! leave, the light of Hope behind!

What though my winged hours of bliss have been,

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Like angel-visits, few and far between!

Her musing mood shall every pang appease,

And charm-when pleasures lose the power to please! 380

Yes! let each rapture, dear to Nature, flee;

Close not the light of Fortune's stormy sea

Mirth, music, friendship, Love's propitious smile,

Chase every care, and charm a little while,
Ecstatic throbs the fluttering heart employ,

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And all her strings are harmoniz'd to joy!—

No! not the quaint remark, the sapient rule, Nor all the pride of Wisdom's worldly school,

Have pow'r to soothe, unaided and alone,
The heart that vibrates to a feeling tone!
When stepdame Nature every bliss recals,
Fleet as the meteor o'er the desert falls;

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widow'd sire appears

400

When, 'reft of all, yon
A lonely hermit in the vale of years;

Say, can the world one joyous thought bestow
To Friendship, weeping at the couch of Woe?
No! but a brighter soothes the last adieu,-
Souls of impassion'd mould, she speaks to you!
Weep not, she says, at Nature's transient pain,
Congenial spirits part to meet again!

What plaintive sobs thy filial spirit drew, What sorrow chok'd thy long and last adieu!

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Daughter of Conrad! when he heard his knell,

And bade his country and his child farewell!
Doom'd the long isles of Sydney cove to see,
The martyr of his crimes, but true to thee?
Thrice the sad father tore thee from his heart,
And thrice return'd, to bless thee, and to part;
Thrice from his trembling lips he murmur'd low
The plaint that own'd unutterable woe;

Till Faith, prevailing o'er his sullen doom,

As bursts the morn on night's unfathom'd gloom,

Lur'd his dim eye to deathless hopes sublime,

Beyond the realms of Nature and of Time!

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415

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"And weep not thus," he cried, "young Ellenore,

My bosom bleeds, but soon shall bleed no more!

Short shall this half-extinguish'd spirit burn,

And soon these limbs to kindred dust return!
But not, my child, with life's precarious fire,

The immortal ties of nature shall expire ;

These shall resist the triumph of decay,

When time is o'er, and worlds have pass'd away!
Cold in the dust this perish'd heart may lie,

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But that which warm'd it once shall never die!

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That spark unburied in its mortal frame,

With living light, eternal, and the same,

Shall beam on Joy's interminable years,

Unveil'd by darkness-unassuag'd by tears!

"Yet, on the barren shore and stormy deep, One tedious watch is Conrad doom'd to weep;

F

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