Classic Poem

Sweet recollection, Could the illusive scene,
Thy magic raises to my entender'd mind—
But draw o'er mem'ry an impervious screen,
Excluding woes that cluster thick behind.
Ah! can I ere forget those lucid rays—
That lit up genius in his manly face—
Where wit and sentiment their art displayd,
To mark each lineament with varied grace.
The active life of usefulness he led—
The well earn'd laurels of bright fame he bought,
Devoted to mankind his heart and head—
And all his ample energy of thought.
The dear domestic joys that round me flow'd—
The ardent lover and the steady friend—
Replete with tenderness his bosom glow'd,
The nameless ties of sympathy to blend.
But then too faithful memory will retain
Those bright ideas with a tyrants part—
Will force my soul in anguish to complain—
Oh to forget them, thrilling thro my heart.
Blest shade when I forget thee, may my lyre—
Fall from my hand in mournful silence drownd—
May evry muse refuse their wonted fire—
And I be hid beneath the turf clad ground.
But memory too a cordial draught bestows—
And shews the balm concentred new in one,
Who like the Phenix from his ashes rose—
His soft resemblance in his darling son.
All that a mothers fondest hopes require—
I find in him, and now my heart revives—
The genius Form the virtues of his Sire—
And in Alexis all my Lucius lives.—