|POEMS -- ON -- VARIOUS SUBJECTS.|
|To a Clergyman on the death of his lady.|
Where contemplation finds her sacred
Where heav'nly music makes the arches ring,
Where virtue reigns unsully'd and divine,
Where wisdom thron'd, and all the graces shine,
There sits thy spouse amidst the radiant throng,
While praise eternal warbles from her tongue;
There choirs angelic bout her welcome round,
With perfect bliss, and peerless glory crown'd.
While thy dear mate, to flesh no more confin'd,
Exults a blest, an heav'n-ascended mind,
Say in they brest an heav'n floods of sorrow rise?
Say shall its torrents overwhelm thine eyes?
Amid the seats of heavents a place is tree,
And angles ope their bright ranks f ee;
For thee they wait, and with expectant eye
Thy spouse leans downward from th' emphyreal
"O come away, her longing spirit cries,
"And share with me the raptures of the skies,
"Our bliss divine to mortals is unknown;
"Immortal life and glory are our own,
"There too any may the dear pledges of our love;
"Arrive, and the ante with us the joys above.
"Arrive the harp to more than mortal lays,
"And join with us the tribute of their praise
"To him, who dy'd stern justice to atone,
"And make eternal glory all our own.
"He in his death slew ours, and, as he rose,
"He crush'd the dire dominion of our foes;
"Vain were their hopes to put the God to flight,
"Chain us to hell, and bar the gates of light."
She spoke, and turn'd from mortal scenes her eyes,
Which beam'd celestial radiance o'er the likes.
Then the dear no more with grief retire,
Let grief no longer damp devotion's fire,
But rise sublime, to equal bliss aspire.
Thy sighs no more be wafted by the wind,
No more complain, but be to heav'nt resigned.
'Twas thine t'unfold the oracles divide,
To sooth our woes the talks was also thine;
Now sorrow is incumbent on thy heart,
Permit the muse a cordial to impart;
Who can to thee their tend'rest aid refuse?
To dry thy tears how longs the heavn'ly muse!