Classic Poem

Short is the fleeting hour when gay delight,
And heartfelt converse wings its rapid flight;
That hour which Hope has mark'd with pierce eye,
Ev'n in the darkness of a clouded sky:
But oh! while Mem'ry shall her pow'r retain,
Think not, O Clerimont, 'twas pass'd in vain.
Where'er I go, my pensive soul to cheer,
Thy voice, illusive, seems to charm my ear!
Those cordial words I hear, which soften'd Grief,
For on thy gentle accents hung Belief:
Thy pleasing form, endow'd with virtues rare,
Gleams in each ling'ring path of silent Care. —
Yes — I have seen thee — kind and gen'rous youth!
Silent and sad, these shades record thy truth:
Each soothing word Remembrance shall redeem,
And guard the object of my just esteem.
Alas I what stormy cloud, with dire dismay,
Chills my faint soul, and darkens all my way?
With death-like gloom conceals thee from my view,
And bids E LVIRA take her last adieu!
— Oh hapless end of Friendship most sincere;
A bleeding heart shall hold thy mem'ry dear.
Whether Misfortune, with compulsive hand,
Leads my sad footsteps to a foreign land,
Far from the realms of Liberty and Truth,
And all the reliques of my foster'd youth;
Or here in paths disconsolate I rove,
A winter's wanderer in the dreary grove;
Where regious Fate my sentence shall decree,
From cities far — from glitt'ring crowds, and thee
— Tho' keen Adversity her storm shou'd bring,
To rend the plume from Hope's aspiring wing!
Ev'n then — oh then! thy mem'ry sure shall lay
Smooth the rude path, and still the northern bay
My suff'ring heart a refuge shall create,
And save thy image from the wreck of Fate;
— Tho' rich with fruitless spoils, Oblivion's tide
In Time's deep gulph shall bury all beside!