For one who lov'd the passing hour When not a pang its frame shall pierce, Then wilt thou-and the tear shall start, 4. Soft as the dews of autumn weep, That swelling heav'd that tender breast Amid the flow'rets bloom, When meek they lift the dewy head, 1 What time o'er yonder woody dell, Whilst pausing slow the evening bell, The red sun ling'ring gleams, then takes his last farewell. 5. Blest is the cottage youth at eve, Who, whilst the moon-beam lights the shade, The trembling, blushing, willing, maid: Tho' not for me, in Fate's dark round, To dream, to muse of thee, to fold mine Curs'd be the wretch, tho' from his view Who bids to each soft thought adieu, And Love, contemning, drop his wreath; That thrill the breast of Hope; For all that Wisdom ever gave, For all that Splendor loves, or blood-stain'd 7. Come then, O Love! from that sweet isle, And give to bleed this wounded heart : A theme so tender spurn, Were vain, were hopeless as to prove, Pale sleeps that wounded heart beneath the grass-grown lea. 8. Yet tell me, say why thus severe? Say, Laura, why those charms withhold? No, tell me not-I will not hear O be the ruthless tale untold! To sink beneath the Tyrant's eye: Oh fail not then, with pity blest, To strew with flowers my clay-cold breast, To breathe one tender sigh, and bid my spirit rest. In the annexed Ode to Pity, of which STERNE forms the most conspicuous figure, an appeal is made, not to the life, but to the pathetic writings of that eccentric Genius. His ludicrous productions, a compound of quaintness and obscene allusion, and, as it has lately appeared, possessing but little originality, I consider as forming no part of the basis, on which his literary reputation rests; and his personal conduct I understand to have been accompanied with a levity, very inconsistent with the profession he had chosen to exercise. It is to Sterne, merely as the author of Le Fevre, Maria and the Monk, compositions which breathe the purest morality, and display the most touching simplicity, both in sentiment and style, that the following lines are addressed; to one, of whom, in this capacity, every member of the republic of letters may, with propriety say— Sterne, the quick tear, that checks our wond'ring smile, In sudden pause, or unexpected story, FERRIAR. |