Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Monody
As Hope with bold , yet trembling pen , portray ' il Home ' s sweetest charms , by absence sweeter made— . The glowing hearth—the smile—the hallow'd kiss—In all the strength of past , domestic bliss—Unfeeling Death , to his stem office true , Dispell'd the vision-thy fond fancy drew ;
As when some unseen cloud conceals in night , Sudden , some long'd-for object from the sight ! We bow , submissive ; for ' tis Heaven ' s decree , To what thy bodings ? i onlywould foresee ; We cease to hope—but still survive to weep . And oft with tearful eye explore the Deep , Thy burial-place , oh , Fergusson ! and bed Of slumber , ' till the Sea give up its Dead !
iVo formal monument , its head uprears To tell , in sculptur'd flattery , thy years ! No proud sarcophagus is . here to grace Th y cold remains , nor eye allow'd to trace Th embodied offspring of the mind and heart—Thy praise—the chisel can so well impart ; 'Tis mem ' ry only , now , that sees in Thee The well- 'd friend of Worth and Liberty ! (
prov Yet , WORDLESS as her Epitaph , she cries With eloquence that's heard beyond the skies : "Thy boastless piety ; oh ! man , shall live , - When earthly tributes shall no more survive ; And e ' en thy smallest work of Christian love Shall meet its final ; rich reward , above ; And Affection ' s feelings be renew'd
pure , To die no more—with Heavenly Life imbued !" BRO . THOMAS EYRE POOLE , D . D ., Colonial and Garrison Chaplain , Sierra Leone , Africa February , 1845 .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Monody
As Hope with bold , yet trembling pen , portray ' il Home ' s sweetest charms , by absence sweeter made— . The glowing hearth—the smile—the hallow'd kiss—In all the strength of past , domestic bliss—Unfeeling Death , to his stem office true , Dispell'd the vision-thy fond fancy drew ;
As when some unseen cloud conceals in night , Sudden , some long'd-for object from the sight ! We bow , submissive ; for ' tis Heaven ' s decree , To what thy bodings ? i onlywould foresee ; We cease to hope—but still survive to weep . And oft with tearful eye explore the Deep , Thy burial-place , oh , Fergusson ! and bed Of slumber , ' till the Sea give up its Dead !
iVo formal monument , its head uprears To tell , in sculptur'd flattery , thy years ! No proud sarcophagus is . here to grace Th y cold remains , nor eye allow'd to trace Th embodied offspring of the mind and heart—Thy praise—the chisel can so well impart ; 'Tis mem ' ry only , now , that sees in Thee The well- 'd friend of Worth and Liberty ! (
prov Yet , WORDLESS as her Epitaph , she cries With eloquence that's heard beyond the skies : "Thy boastless piety ; oh ! man , shall live , - When earthly tributes shall no more survive ; And e ' en thy smallest work of Christian love Shall meet its final ; rich reward , above ; And Affection ' s feelings be renew'd
pure , To die no more—with Heavenly Life imbued !" BRO . THOMAS EYRE POOLE , D . D ., Colonial and Garrison Chaplain , Sierra Leone , Africa February , 1845 .