Classic Poem

A Tale

A WAKE , O pensive Muse, and sing,
The lighter airs forego,
Strike deep the sad-resounding string,
The string attuned to woe:

'Twas when trim youth, and pleasure smiled,
And Cupid, dimply boy,
The laughing hours with love beguiled,
And all the scene was joy;

One eve, as sol's declining beams
The western skies o'er-spread,
And fleecy clouds, and rimpled streams
Were tinged with glowing red:

Beneath a quivering aspen-spray,
With pendent dew-drops bright,
A woe-fraught swain, despondent lay,
And, thus bespoke the wight —

" Ah! me, — ye cheerly nymphs, and swains
" That gambol round, and round;
" Till all the woods, that skirt the plains,
" The jocund notes rebound!

" Awhile my rueful tale attend,
" A tale, with woe in-wrought!
" Alas! for me, no feeling friend
" Allays the tortured thought!

" I ask not life; no boon I crave
" Save this one sad request,
" I die; — and in the silent grave,
" O grant my bones to rest:

" And, let this casket , ever dear!
" On my cold breast repose;
" When these sunk-eyes, refuse the tear,
" That now, unbidden flows.

" When manly vigour strung my frame,
" And health illumed my face,
" I, luckless, loved a beauteous dame,
" A dame, of noble race!

" A mutual flame my Vesta fired,
" And own'd her spotless love;
" As oft from prying eyes retired
" We met, in yonder grove:

" But adverse fate, our hopes opposed,
" Our mutual wishes crost;
" And soon a convent's walls enclosed —
" This gem, for ever lost!

" A cruel father's ruthless hand
" Repell'd her from his gate;
" And forced her, in a distant land,
" To wail her hapless fate:

" For stern Philander's rigid mind
" Confess'd the Roman sway;
" And to its narrow pale, — confined
" Faint reason's timid ray.

" His riches found a foreign heir:
" His wealth were nought to me;
" I never sought that wealth to share,
" Nor rank of high degree.

" Content within my tranquil sphere,
" A patient flock to guide;
" I glean'd my pittance from the year;
" And scorn'd — the gaudes of pride.

" But Vesta, hopeless of relief
" Her painful vigils past,
" A prey to agonizing grief,
" Too mighty long to last!

" It fed upon her tender frame,
" And sapp'd her maiden bloom,
" Unpitying quench'd the vital flame,
" And sunk her to the tomb.

" But, when she saw, the deadly dart
" Prepared to strike the blow —
" Preserve, she cried, this faithful heart ,
" This heart, — that bursts with woe!

" When thro' the scatter'd gloom of death,
" Darts pure, eternal day;
" And, this faint struggling, anxious breath,
" Shall quit the dormant clay —

" Then, close my eyes, in decent sort;
" And from my pallid side —
" Convey my heart : — no more the sport,
" Of cruelty, and pride.

" To dear Acetus' hand restore,
" This token of my love,
" He'll bless the deed, the pledge adore;
" When I am — far above.

" This said; — to realms of endless light,
" The gentle spirit fled:
" The fading cheek appall'd the sight.
" As dropp'd the listless head.

" Then, careful from her snowy breast,
" The clay-cold heart , they drew:
" And gave the peaceful corpse to rest
" Beneath a sacred yew.

" To me the precious relic came,
" The pledge — for ever dear!
" Still glows the pure exhaustless flame,
" Still lives her image here ;

" And still within my faithful breast ,
" The vivid traits shall glow;
" Till this sad heart, that pants for rest
" Shall, sighing, burst with woe. "