Classic Poem

ON The late Rev. C HARLES P ARROTT , Rector of Saham, Norfolk

Come shepherds, and list to the lay,
Come virgins, attend to the verse,
Bring flowrets as fresh as the May,
And scatter them over the hearse, —
The hearse — where my Pollio is laid:
Alas! 'tis with anguish I tell
He's number'd, too soon, with the dead.
How solemn and slow tolls the knell!

Come hither, and haste to prepare —
Ere they snatch the dear Saint from the view,
Bring quickly the primrose so fair,
The pansey, and violet-blue,
The lily, that blooms in the vale
That leads to the ivy-clad tower;
You know how he lov'd the cool dale,
Where blossoms his favorite flower.
Bring boughs of each flourishing green
He planted, and labour'd to rear,
The cypress and myrtle between —
Let the laurel and yew-branch appear;
And now we'll the chaplet entwine,
As we stand round the grave in a ring:
Ye shepherds the eulogy join,
That gratitude prompts us to sing.

R ECITATIVE . — By the Shepherds .

Tho' translated to the sky,
Pitying view thy friends below;
A moment we stern grief defy,
Invoke the powers of harmony:
Tho' the heart replete with woe
Prompt the twinkling tear to flow,
Tho' the struggling sigh represt
Throb with anguish all the breast,
Yet the tongue essays to sing,
Trembling fingers urge the string;
Reluctant strings imperfect tones convey,
And sad and solemn sounds the funeral lay.

A IR . — First Shepherd .

Religion come, celestial maid!
Descend, with ministrelsy divine,
Attune the voice, the dying numbers aid —
With warblings sweet the hallow'd requiem join:

Chorus of Shepherds .

While on earth, he gave to thee —
All the raptured soul could give!
Here — we bend the suppliant knee —
Teach us thus to act, and live,
Thus to meet the venom'd dart
When it strikes the quiv'ring heart,
Thus — to yield the fleeting breath,
Smiling in the grasp of death:
For thus to live , and thus to die —
Is, surely, bliss beneath the sky,

A IR . — First Shepherd .

A foretaste of immortal joy;
Which time, securely, hastes to bring,
Which robs the grave of victory,
And death of his empoison'd sting.

Chorus of Shepherds .

For thus to live , and thus to die ,
Is, surely, bliss, beneath the sky.

A IR . — First Shepherd .

With thee to mount, and soar, and sing,
Upborne on light ethereal wing,
With thee ecstatic songs to raise,
To hymn the great Jehovah's praise
To raptured sounds of living lyre,
In strains symphonious with th' angelic choir,

Chorus of Shepherds .

With thee to mount, and soar, and sing,
Upborne on light ethereal wing,
Be our's when life's short date is o'er,
In realms, where pain and sorrow are no more.