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Sail was I, even to pain depressed,
And many thousands now are sad,
A Power is passing from the earth
That Man, who is from God sent forth,
Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle, in a Storm, painted
BY SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT.
I was thy Neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
So pure the sky, so quiet was the air!
How perfect was the calm! it seem'd no sleep;
Ah! Then, if mine had been the Painter's hand,
I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile!
Thou shouldst have seem'd a treasure-house, a mine
A Picture had it been of lasting ease,
Such, in the fond delusion of my heart,
So once it would have been,—'tis so no more;
Not for a moment could I now behold
Then, Beaumont, Friend! who would have been the
If he had lived, of Him whom I deplore.
This Work of thine I blame not, but commend;
This sea in anger, and that dismal shore.
Oh 'tis a passionate Work! — yet wise and well;
And this huge Castle, standing here sublime,
I love to see the look with which it braves,
Cased in the unfeeling armour of old time,
The light'ning, the fierce wind, and trampling waves.
Farewell, farewell the Heart that lives alone,
But welcome fortitude, and patient chear,