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Article ON LEAVING LEHENA , † IN OCTOBER, 1788. ← Page 2 of 2
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
On Leaving Lehena , † In October, 1788.
But not his brightest , not his warmest gleams Can wake my slumbering asbes from the tomb' Till the last trumpet with terrific sound " Shall call the trembling culprit to appear , "Where perfeft justice shall my guilt confound , Or endless mercy ease my anxious fear .
' Whene ' er tbe inclement skies compell'd my stay Within the walls of yon seqtiester'd dome , How very short appear'd each sullen day , While o ' er the storied page my eyes did roam ! < Or when , exchanging books for free discourse , A parent ' s words instructed as they leas'd
p , While to her words her actions gave new force , My mind example more than precept rais'd . < She taught me humbled goodness to revere , To cheer the sad , to succour the forlorn ; Taught me to think bright virtue only fair , And senseless pride to treat with equal scorn ,
« Sometimes the friendly sisters * too would come , Their conduft blameless , and their souls sincere , Adding new pleasure to our peaceful home , For heaven-born friendship can each scene endear .
' But now no more Maria glads our eyes , No more with her the verdant fields we tread : Med ' cine in vain its healing virtue tries ; Our lov'd Maria ' s number'd with the dead ! * Yet , Anna , cease this unavailing tear , Utter no more that deep , heart-rending sigh :
Maria ' s body wastes upon the bier ; Maria ' s purer soul can never die . ' Metbinks , she views you now with tender care , She drops a tear of pity to your woe : Ah I then , your sainted sisters quiet spare , Who can no sorrow now but " Anna ' s know .
' Alas ! while I indulge the pensive strain , Ar « oV _ o sinks into tbe lap of night . When he illumines next yon western plain , No more this lawn shall open to my sight . < Stay , envious Cynthia , suffer yet one view ! To-morrow I these blissful meads forsake : dew
From her moist veil she shakes the silver , Deaf to each feeble accent that I speak . 5 Then farewel each regretted , rural scene , ' Each rising tree my careful hands has i . ms'd ! Long may , your branches crown this happy green , When these frail limbs lie mouldering in the dust !'
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
On Leaving Lehena , † In October, 1788.
But not his brightest , not his warmest gleams Can wake my slumbering asbes from the tomb' Till the last trumpet with terrific sound " Shall call the trembling culprit to appear , "Where perfeft justice shall my guilt confound , Or endless mercy ease my anxious fear .
' Whene ' er tbe inclement skies compell'd my stay Within the walls of yon seqtiester'd dome , How very short appear'd each sullen day , While o ' er the storied page my eyes did roam ! < Or when , exchanging books for free discourse , A parent ' s words instructed as they leas'd
p , While to her words her actions gave new force , My mind example more than precept rais'd . < She taught me humbled goodness to revere , To cheer the sad , to succour the forlorn ; Taught me to think bright virtue only fair , And senseless pride to treat with equal scorn ,
« Sometimes the friendly sisters * too would come , Their conduft blameless , and their souls sincere , Adding new pleasure to our peaceful home , For heaven-born friendship can each scene endear .
' But now no more Maria glads our eyes , No more with her the verdant fields we tread : Med ' cine in vain its healing virtue tries ; Our lov'd Maria ' s number'd with the dead ! * Yet , Anna , cease this unavailing tear , Utter no more that deep , heart-rending sigh :
Maria ' s body wastes upon the bier ; Maria ' s purer soul can never die . ' Metbinks , she views you now with tender care , She drops a tear of pity to your woe : Ah I then , your sainted sisters quiet spare , Who can no sorrow now but " Anna ' s know .
' Alas ! while I indulge the pensive strain , Ar « oV _ o sinks into tbe lap of night . When he illumines next yon western plain , No more this lawn shall open to my sight . < Stay , envious Cynthia , suffer yet one view ! To-morrow I these blissful meads forsake : dew
From her moist veil she shakes the silver , Deaf to each feeble accent that I speak . 5 Then farewel each regretted , rural scene , ' Each rising tree my careful hands has i . ms'd ! Long may , your branches crown this happy green , When these frail limbs lie mouldering in the dust !'