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Addressed to One of His Sisters on the Death of Another.
DEAR sister, see the smiling spring | |
| In all its beauties here; | |
| The groves a thousand pleasures bring, | |
| A thousand grateful scenes appear. | |
| With tender leaves the trees are crown’d, | 5 |
| And scatter’d blossoms all around, | |
| Of various dyes | |
| Salute your eyes, | |
| And cover o’er the speckled ground. | |
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| Now thickets shade the glassy fountains; | 10 |
| Trees overhang the purling streams; | |
| Whisp’ring breezes brush the mountains, | |
| Grots are fill’d with balmy steams. | |
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| But, sister, all the sweets that grace | |
| The spring and blooming nature’s face; | 15 |
| The chirping birds, | |
| Nor lowing herds; | |
| The woody hills, | |
| Nor murm’ring rills; | |
| The sylvan shades, | 20 |
| Nor flowery meads, | |
| To me their former joys dispense, | |
| Though all their pleasures court my sense. | |
| But melancholy damps my mind, | |
| I lonely walk the field, | 25 |
| With inward sorrow fill’d, | |
| And sigh to every breathing wind. | |
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| I mourn our tender sister’s death, | |
| In various plaintive sounds; | |
| While hills above, and vales beneath, | 30 |
| The faltering notes rebound. | |
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| Perhaps when in the pains of death, | |
| She gasp’d her latest breath, | |
| You saw our pensive friends around, | |
| With tears bedew the ground. | 35 |
| Our loving father stand, | |
| And press her trembling hand, | |
| And gently cry, “My child, adieu! | |
| We all must follow you.” | |
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| Some tender friend did then perhaps arise, | 40 |
| And close her dying eyes: | |
| Her stiffen’d body, cold and pale, | |
| Was then convey’d within the gloomy vale | |
| Of death’s unhallow’d shade. | |
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| Weak mortals, Oh! how hard our fate; | 45 |
| How sure our death,—how short our date, | |
| How quickly sets our day! | |
| We all are doom’d to lay our heads | |
| Beneath the earth in mournful shades, | |
| To hungry worms a prey. | 50 |
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| But, loving sister, let’s prepare | |
| With virtue’s steady feet, | |
| That we may boldly meet | |
| The rider of the pale horse void of fear. | |
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| But why should you and I for ever mourn | 55 |
| Our dear relation’s death? She ’s gone— | |
| We ’ve wept enough to prove | |
| Our grief and tender love. | |
| Let joy succeed, and smiles appear, | |
| And let us wipe off every tear. | 60 |
| Not always the cold winter lasts, | |
| With snow and storms, and northern blasts. | |
| The raging seas with fury tost, | |
| Not always break and roar; | |
| Sometimes their native anger’s lost. | 65 |
| And smooth hush’d waves glide softly to the shore. | |
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