And, while she bends in silence o'er thy bier,
Assuage the grief, too heart-sick for a tear?
Visions of hope, in loveliest hues array'd,
Fair scenes of bliss! by fancy's hand portray'd;
And were ye doom'd with false, illusive smile,
With flatt'ring promise, to enchant awhile?
And are ye vanish'd, never to return,

Set in the darkness of the mould'ring urn?
Will no bright hour departed joys restore?
Shall the sad parent meet her child no more?
Behold no more the soul-illumined face,
The expressive smile, the animated grace?
Must the fair blossom, wither'd in the tomb,
Revive no more in loveliness and bloom?
Descend, blest faith! dispel the hopeless care,
And chase the gath'ring phantoms of despair;
Tell, that the flower, transplanted in its morn,
Enjoys bright Eden, freed from every thorn;
Expands to milder suns, and softer dews,
The full perfection of immortal hues ;
Tell, that when mounting to her native skies,
By death released, the parent spirit flies;

There shall the child, in anguish mourn'd so long,
With rapture
hail her, 'midst the cherub throng;
And guide her pinion, on exulting flight,

Through glory's boundless realms, and worlds of living light.

Ye gentle spirits of departed friends !
If e'er on earth your buoyant wing descends;
If, with benignant care, ye linger near,
To guard the objects in existence dear;
If hov'ring o'er, ethereal band! ye view
The tender sorrows, to your memory true;
Oh! in the musing hour, at midnight deep,
While for your loss affection wakes to weep;
While every sound in hallow'd stillness lies,
But the low murmur of her plaintive sighs;

Oh! then, amidst that holy calm be near,
Breathe your light whisper softly in her ear;
With secret spells, her wounded mind compose,
And chase the faithful tear-for you that flows;

Be near; when moonlight spreads the charm you loved,

O'er scenes where once your earthly footstep roved;
Then, while she wanders o'er the sparkling dew,
Through glens and wood-paths, once endear'd by you,
And fondly lingers in your fav'rite bowers,
And pauses oft, recalling former hours;

Then wave your pinion o'er each well-known vale,
Float in the moonbeam, sigh upon the gale;
Bid your wild symphonies remotely swell,
Borne by the summer-wind from grot and dell;
And touch your viewless harps, and sooth her soul,
With soft enchantments and divine control!
Be near, sweet guardians; watch her sacred rest,
When Slumber folds her in his magic vest;
Around her, smiling, let your forms arise,
Return'd in dreams, to bless her mental eyes;
Efface the mem'ry of your last farewell,
Of glowing joys, of radiant prospects tell;
The sweet communion of the past renew,
Reviving former scenes, array'd in softer hue.

Be near when death, in virtue's brightest hour, Calls and summons all his power; each up pang, Oh! then, transcending Fancy's loveliest dream, Then let your forms unveil'd, around her beam ; Then waft the vision of unclouded light,

A burst of glory, on her closing sight;

Wake from the harp of heaven th' immortal strain,
To hush the final agonies of pain;

With rapture's flame, the parting soul illume,
And smile triumphant through the shadowy gloom!

Oh! still be near, when, darting into day,
Th' exulting spirit leaves her bonds of clay;
Be yours to guide her flutt'ring wings on high,
O'er many a world, ascending to the sky;
There let your presence, once her earthly joy,
Though dimm'd with tears, and clouded with alloy;
Now form her bliss on that celestial shore,
Where death shall sever kindred hearts no more.

Yes! in the noon of that Elysian clime
Beyond the sphere of anguish, death or time;
Where mind's bright eye, with renovated fire,
Shall beam on glories-never to expire ;
Oh! there th' illumined soul may fondly trust,
More pure, more perfect, rising from the dust,
Those mild affections, whose consoling light
Sheds the soft moonbeam on terrestrial night,
Sublimed, ennobled, shall for ever glow,
Exalting rapture—not assuaging woe!