A T the close of the day, when the hamlet is still, Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall? And mortals the sweets of forgetful- For spring shall return, and a lover be man: "Now gliding remote on the verge of the sky, The moon, half extinguished, her crescent displays; But lately I marked when majestic on high She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze. Roll on, thou fair orb, and with glad ness pursue The path that conducts thee to splendor again! But man's faded glory what change shall renew? Ah, fool! to exult in a glory so vain! 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no I more. mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; Ah! why, all abandoned to darkness and For morn is approaching your charms to re Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glit- Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquished my tering with dew. Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn,Kind nature the embryo blossom will save :" But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn? O, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave? 'Twas thus, by the glare of false science betrayed, That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind, My thoughts wont to roam from shade onward to shade, Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. 'O pity, great Father of light,' then I cried, Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee! pride; From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.'" And darkness and doubt are now flying away; No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn. So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray, The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. See truth, love, and mercy in triumph descending, And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom! On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." |