IV. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.Ecclesiastes, Chapter 12, v. 1. Remember Him, for He is great, And winds and waves obey his will: Remember Him, for He is wise, Remember Him, for He is good, Can cleanse and purify within. Remember Him, for He is kind, And will not frown the poor away; Remember Him, before the days While Life remains, remember Him! EPITAPHS. I. A Saint, a Wife, a Mother slumbers here, To Heaven, to Husband, and to Children dear; But Heaven, to which her chiefest thoughts were prone, Three infant pledges of pure love she left, Their tears may well be spared, they need not fall, II. Good night! Good night, sweet Spirit! thou hast cast Thy bonds of clay away from thee at last; Broken the earthly fetters, which alone Held thee at distance from thy Maker's Throne; But Oh! those fetters to th' immortal mind, Were links of love to those thou'st left behind. For thee we mourn not; as th' Apostle prest Drew nigh, and when the light that round him shone, So wert thou subject to disease and pain; Till Death, the brightest of th' angelic train, SONNET. On reading the Remains of the late HENRY KIRKE WHITE. Yes, all is o'er! the pangs which Nature felt, The feelings Genius only gives, and knows, Closed o'er his honour'd head. Too lovely Rose, Why in such open brilliancy disclose Those buds condemn'd such cruel blight to brave? Was Genius', Virtue's, Learning's power too small To snatch their votary from the silent grave ? Ah me! we toil through life, until the call Of Death arrests us, impotent to save; The great, the good, the wise around us fall, While Vice and Folly live, proud arbiters of all. FRIENDSHIP. From the French. "FRIENDSHIP! to thee I raise my voice, Love cannot equal thee; Thou art the object of my choice, Thou, like the roseate break of day, Shinest, but dost not burn; Peace dwells with thee, and 'neath thy sway, True happiness we learn." 'Twas thus, when fifteen Springs their braids Had woven, Laura spake; The gentle error of fair maids, When their first vows they make. Unto her Idol then she raised A Temple, rich and rare; And, night and day, bright cressets blazed, And odours rich burn'd there. Only his features to express A Statue was required; Had the Arts reach'd such perfectness, T' achieve the work desired. A master-piece of Art to choose, To Phidias quick she went; All grandeur's forms, and beauty's hues, The Artist Friendship's statue shew'd: With no soft graces fraught. "This is not he!" she cried, "" I spurn Your false and peevish art; "There, stretch'd upon a bed of down, Behold the master whom I own, And serve!" she said, and smiled: "Ah!" said the Artist, "Beauty must OH Love! triumphant Love! thy throne is built Where tempests cannot shake it, or rude force Tear up it's strong foundations. In the heart Thy dwelling is, and there thy potent spell Q |