Classic Poem

In Memory of my late pious Friend Mrs. Bold , of Wade Court, Hampshire ,

H OW oft remembrance brings thee to my mind,
In all the glow of youthful beauty bright!
Ere thy soft charms, to death's cold grasp consign'd,
Sunk to the grave, in dull oblivious night:

Thy loved remains, in mute inconscious rest,
Now lie, unheeded by the busy throng;
Yet still, E LIZA , in thy A NNA'S breast
Thou livest, — the darling subject of her song.

Thrice bless'd was I! — when dearer to thy soul
Than all the toys this idle world bestows:
How oft did'st thou my wayward thoughts controul,
Or sooth my sorrows with congenial woes.

In infant sports our ductile minds agreed —
We dress'd the baby, or we threw the ball,
Tripp'd round the May-pole with unwearied speed,
Or hymn'd the carol, sounding thro' the hall.

'Twas our's adown the graceful dance to move
With rival steps, accordant to the strains; —
While looks of innocence, and cordial love,
Drew lively plaudits from the raptured swains.

As year on year with rapid motion flew,
How thought we then, in life's meridian bloom?
My gayer mind the halcyon prospect drew, —
While your's — deep centred in the mould'ring tomb:

Thy graver fancy chose the Solemn theme,
And life's short date educed from sacred lore, —
" How shall we wake, as from an awful dream,
" When this strange scene, and all its charms " are o'er. "

Short was thy date, and transient was thy joy,
Prepared, thou met'st th' inevitable blow,
Thy spirit, freed from ev'ry base alloy,
Rose pure and spotless from this vale of woe.

Ah! dear to friendship! if allow'd to view
The varying modes that added years attend,
Accept the tribute to thy virtues due,
The distant tribute of a faithful friend.

Nor time, nor chance, the steady mind can change,
In mem'ry's page thou livest, for ever dear!
Allow'd thro' long-drawn scenes in thought to range,
I, silent, drop the unavailing tear:

And oft when slumbers seal my wearied eyes,
What time the cock proclaims the dawning light,
I, raptured, see thy gentle spirit rise!
Pure as the air, and as the morning bright.

The blissful vision leaves a trace behind
To gild the precincts of returning thought,
Stamps its fair vestige on the wakeing mind
By reason nurtured, tho' by fancy wrought.

Such be the charm, thro' life's precarious road,
Still may'st thou cheer me in the gloomy way,
Till angels waft me to their bless'd abode,
To thee, E LIZA , in the realms of day.