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Wraps a heart of human mould
• That shapeless phantom sinking flow • Deep down the vast abyss below, • Darts, thro' the mists that shroud his frame, • A horror, nature hates to name i'• Mortal, could thine eyes behold "All those sullen mists enfold, • Thy sinews at the sight accurst • Would wither, and thy heart-strings burst; • Death would grasp with icy hand · And drag thee to our grizzly band
Away! the sable pall I spread, • And give to rest th' unquiet dead• Hastel ere its horrid shroud enclose
Thy form, benumb’d with wild affright, • And plunge thee far thro' wastes of night, • In yon black gulph's abhorr'd repose l’
As starting at each step I fly,
That closing portal past -
On me, a blasting look they cast,
Where burning phrenzy dwells !
BY W. SOTHEBY, ESQ.
Sort on the wave the oars at distance sound,
The night breeze sighing through the leafy spray, With gentle whisper murmurs all around,
Breathes on the placid sea, and dies away.
Slow lingering on the solitary shore
Lonely to yon forsaken fane descend,
Within the shelter'd centre of the aisle,
Beneath the ash, whose growth romantic spreads Its foliage trembling o'er the funeral pile,
And all around a deeper darkness sheds ;
And the grey cloyster's roofless length illumes,
Call the pale spectres forth from the forgotten tombs. Spirits! the desolated wreck that haunt,
Who frequent by the village maiden seen,
And shapeless shadows sweep along the green;
With interdictions dread of boding sound;
low'd ground !
How oft, when homeward forc'd, at day's dim close,
In youth, as bending back I mournful stood Fix'd on the fav'rite spot, where first arose
The pointed ruin peeping o'er the wood; Methought I heard upon the passing wind Melodious sounds in solemn chorus join'd,
Echoing the chaunted vesper's peaceful note, Oft through the veil of night's descending cloud, Saw gleaming far the visionary croud
Down the deep vaulted aisle in long procession float.
But now; no more the gleaming forms appear,
Within their graves at rest the fathers sleep;
Save the low murmur of the tranquil deep:
The dew-drops bursting on the fretted stone: While faintly from the distant coppice heard, The music of the melancholy bird
Trills to the silent heav'n a sweetly-plaintive moan.
Farewell, delightful dreams, that charm'd my youth !
Farewell th' aërial note, the shadowy trail ! Now while this shrine inspires sublimer truth,
While cloyster'd echo breathes a solemn strain, In the deep stillness of the midnight hour, Wisdom shall curb wild fancy's magic pow'r,
And as with life's gay dawn th’illusions cease, Though from the heart steal forth a sigh profound; Here Resignation o'er its secret wound Shall pour
the lenient balm that soothes the soul to peace.