Classic Poem

INSCRIBED ON A VOTIVE TABLET, AND CONSECRATED WITH FILIAL AFFECTION TO THE MEMORY OF THE ANGEL-MOTHER,

M UTE is the oracle of Peace and Love;
No more the lips of Eloquence can move;
Clos'd are the eyes, which never dropp'd in vain
A tear of sympathy on Grief and Pain;
The heart no more its impulse can obey,
Led by the intellect's aethereal ray.
Now are the energies and cares at rest,
That strung with zeal the Mother's glowing breast;
Cares, without leisure for a selfish thought,
And blessings on the miracles, they wrought:
In Memory alone is now enshrin'd
The calculating and sagacious mind,
That made aeconomy its bank and wealth,
Gave Temperance a charm, and bloom to Health; —
Invisible to all surrounding eyes,
Till streams of bounty could the heart surprize.
To Heaven, that form'd it, is her spirit fled,
Who under sacred banners Honour led
By patient Valour against Fortune steel'd,
With no capitulating fears would yield;
But, when Affliction's piercing arrows came,
Her agonies with duty overcame,
And liv'd, as by a covenant of trust,
Born to be wise — benevolent — and just.
Nor undistinguish'd by her Judge, and God,
The path by Virtue and Religion trod.
For " length of days " the circling wheel has roll'd,
And years almost their century have told,
When, by her " children's children " still rever'd,
By service honour'd, — and by Love endear'd,
She gave to Heaven the task — for it was done;
And smil'd upon the " race that she had run . "