THE FUNERAL GENIUS; AN ANCIENT STATUE. “Debout, courouné de fleurs, les bras élevés et posés sur la tête, et le dos appuyé contre un pin, ce génie semble exprimer par son attitude le repos des morts. Les bas-reliefs des tombeaux offrent souvent des figures semblables." Visconti, Description des Antiques du Musée Royal THOU shouldst be look'd on when the starlight falls Flowers are upon thy brow; for so the dead They fear'd not death, whose calm and gracious thought Of the last hour, hath settled thus in thee! On the wood-violets lull'd to deep repose. They fear'd not death!-yet who shall say his touch Doth he bestow, or will he leave so much Of tender beauty as thy features wear? Thou sleeper of the bower! on whose young eyes Had they seen aught like thee?-Did some fair boy Oh! happy, if to them the one dread hour Came by a look, so tranquilly divine! -Let him, who thus hath seen the lovely part, But thou, fair slumberer! was there less of woe, That men pour'd out their gladdening spirit's flow, And gave thy semblance to the shadowy king In the dark bosom of the earth they laid Is it for us a darker gloom to shed O'er its dim precincts?-do we not entrust When living light hath touch'd the brow of death? DIRGE OF A CHILD. No bitter tears for thee be shed, With flowers alone we strew thy bed, O blest departed one! Whose all of life, a rosy ray, Blush'd into dawn, and pass'd away. Yes! thou art fled, ere guilt had power That never felt a storm! The sunbeam's smile, the zephyr's breath, All that it knew from birth to death. Thou wert so like a form of light, Ere yet the world could breathe one blight O'er thy sweet innocence: And thou, that brighter home to bless, Art pass'd, with all thy loveliness! Oh! hadst thou still on earth remain'd, How soon thy brightness had been stain'd With passion or with grief! Now not a sullying breath can rise, To dim thy glory in the skies. We rear no marble o'er thy tomb, No sculptured image there shall mourn; Ah! fitter far the vernal bloom Such dwelling to adorn. Fragrance, and flowers, and dews, must be The only emblems meet for thee. Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine, Each glowing season shall combine Its incense there to breathe ; |