VI. TO MELANCHOLY. OH Melancholy! many a lingering day, And weary night, I've felt thy presence nigh; And I have brushed the tear, suppressed the sigh, In proud resistance to thy baleful sway; In vain attempts to chase thee far away, With feeble hand I've tried to wield the pen, To frame some moral tale or sportive lay; But found thee hovering o'er my head again : Like night's ill-boding bird, with flapping wing; And pensive, jarring strains fell from the trembling string. VII. TO THE SAME. LONG hast thou, Melancholy, reigned a queen Wild as the wind, and restless as the wave; And blighted every earth-born flowret's bloom: But though, by thee, my calm and sun-bright day Was changed to winter's dismal, lowering gloom ; There still remains an unextinguished ray Of trembling light, that twinkles o'er the tomb; Where man shall sleep, in death's long, dreamless night, But, renovated, wake to life and lasting light! VIII. ON READING WORDSWORTH'S "EXCURSION." METHINKS thy song diffuse, mild WORDSWORTH, seems When Fancy triumphs, and Elysian dreams Show brighter skies, and fields of lovelier green; Melodious, mingling with the fragrant gale: Though strange and new the soft harmonious sound, And, though bewildered, linger on the plain, So rich the fairy scene,-so sweet the hallowed strain. ་ IX. TO SLEEP. O, GENTLE power! I court thy kind embrace; My downy pillow, see, in vain I press, And nightly on the couch of sadness turn : And lull reflection with thy opiate balm; The scenes of happier days around my weary head! X. TO THE LAUREL. BEWITCHING tree! what magic's in thy name? Life's purple tide with quicker motion warms. Full oft, alas! the hero and the bard Find thee their only meed, their sole reward; Or gaudy poppy, of fugacious bloom, 'Tis thine to flourish for a transient hour, Then, withered, sink in dark oblivion's womb : Thy greenest leaves, thy rich perennial flower, Buds in thy votary's life, but blossoms on his tomb! |