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And the tear of resignation
Twinkles in the mournful eye.

Have you felt a kind emotion

Tremble through your troubled breast ; Soft as evening o'er the ocean,

When she charms the waves to rest.

Have you lost a friend, a brother?

Heard a father's parting breath? Gazed upon a lifeless mother

Till she seem'd to wake from death?

Have you felt a spouse expiring
In your arms, before your view?
Watch'd the lovely soul retiring
From her eyes, that broke on you?

Did not grief then grow romantic',
Raving on remember'd bliss ?
Did you not with fervor frantic,
Kiss the lips that felt no kiss.

Yes! but when you had resign'd her,
Life and you were reconciled;
Anna left-she left behind her,
One, one dear, one only child.

But before the green moss peeping,
His poor mother's grave array'd,
In that grave, the infant sleeping
On the mother's lap was laid.

Horror, then, your heart congealing
Chill'd you with intense despair;
Can you recollect the feeling?

No! there was no feeling, there!

From that gloomy trance of sorrow,
When you woke to pangs unknown,

How unwelcome was the morrow,
For it rose on you alone !

Sunk in self-consuming anguish,
Can the poor heart always ache?
No, the tortur'd nerve will languish
Or the strings of life must break.

O'er the yielding brow of sadness,
One faint smile of comfort stole;
One soft pang of tender gladness
Exquisitely thrill'd your soul.

While the wounds of woe are healing,
While the heart is all resign'd,

'Tis the solemn feast of feeling,
'Tis the sabbath of the mind.

Pensive memory then retraces
Scenes of bliss forever fled,
Lives in former times and places,
Holds communion with the dead.

And, when night's prophetic slumbers
Rend the veil to mortal eyes,
From their tombs, the sainted numbers
Of our lost companions rise.

You have seen a friend, a brother,
Heard a dear dead father speak;
Prov'd the fondness of a mother,
Felt her tears upon your cheek!

Dreams of love your grief beguiling,
You have clasp'd a consort's charms,
And received your infant smiling
From his mother's sacred arms.

Trembling, pale and agonizing,
While you mourn'd the vision gone,

Bright the morning star arising

Open'd heaven, from whence it shone.

Thither all your wishes bending
Rose in ecstacy sublime,
Thither all your hopes ascending
Triumph'd over death and time,

Thus afflicted, bruis'd and broken,
Have you known such sweet relief?
Yes, my friend! and, by this token,
You have felt, THE JOY OF GRIEF.

THE GRAVE.

There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found,
They softly lie and sweetly sleep,
Low in the ground.

The storm that wrecks the winter sky,
No more disturbs their deep repose,
Than summer evening's latest sigh,
That shuts the rose.

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On thy dear lap these limbs reclined
Shall gently moulder into thee ;
Nor leave one wretched trace behind,
Resembling me.

Hark !—a strange sound affrights mine ear;
My pulse-my brain runs wild—I rave :
-Ah! who art thou whose voice I hear?
"I am the Grave!

"The grave, that never spake before,
Hath found at length a tongue to chide
O listen!-I will speak no more :
Be silent, pride!

"Art thou a wretch of hope forlorn,
A victim of consuming care?
Is thy distracted conscience torn
By fell despair?

"Do foul misdeeds of former times,
Wring with remorse thy guilty breast,
And ghosts of unforgiven crimes
Murder thy rest?

"Lash'd by the furies of the mind,

From wrath and vengeance would'st thou flee?
Ah! think not, hope not, Fool! to find
A friend in me.

"By all the terrors of the tomb,
Beyond the power of tongue to tell!
By, the dread secrets of my womb!
By death and hell!

"I charge thee, live -repent and pray;
In dust thine infamy deplore;
There yet is mercy ;-go thy way,
And sin no more.

"Art thou a mourner?-hast thou knowǹ
The joy of innocent delights?

Endearing days forever flown
And tranquil nights?

"O live-and deeply cherish still
The sweet remembrance of the past:
Rely on heaven's unchanging will
For peace at last.

"Art thou a wanderer?-hast thou seen
O'erwhelming tempests drown thy bark?

A shipwreck'd sufferer hast thou been,
Misfortune's mark?

"Tho' long of winds and waves the sport,
Condemn'd in wretchedness to roam,
Live-thou shalt reach a sheltering port,
A quiet home.

"To friendship didst thou trust thy fame,
And was thy friend a deadly foe,
Who stole into thy breast to aim
A surer blow?

"Live!-and repine not o'er his loss,
A loss unworthy to be told:
Thou hast mistaken sordid dross
For friendship's gold.

"Go seek that treasure, seldom found,
Of power the fiercest griefs to calm,
And sooth the bosom's deepest wound
With heavenly balm.

"In woman hast thou placed thy bliss,
And did the fair one faithless prove?
Hath she betray'd thee with a kiss,
And sold thy love?

"Live!-'twas a false bewildering fire,
Too often Love's insidious. dart
Thrills the fond soul with sweet desire,
But kills the heart.

"A nobler flame shall warm thy breast
A brighter maiden's virtuous charms!
Blest shalt thou be, supremely blest,
In Beauty's arms.

"Whate'er thy lot-whoe'er thou be,
Confess thy folly, kiss the od,
And in thy chastening sorrows see
The hand of GOD.

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