Classic Poem

Spirit benign! accept a long adieu!
The Muse of Harmony laments thee too:
Inly she mourns, and o'er her downy wings
The sable robe of gloomy Sorrow flings. —
Oh, awful Christchurch! while the Muse shall shed
Her silver beams o'er thy majestic head,
The Mem'ry's eye, for ever priz'd and dear,
The placid form of J ACKSON shall appear!
Still mild and courteous, gentle and serene,
His soothing Friendship shall enrich the scene,
When sacred Duty claim'd his noblest pow'rs,
He gave to Heaven (as due) those solemn hours;
And pure Religion, in its blest abode,
Inspir'd his look, and in his accents glow'd.
The poor, the old — the feeble and distress'd,
May say, if Charity inspir'd his breast:
To grace his mem'ry shall their tears be giv'n,
Whilst Hope, enlighten'd, lifts its eye to Heav'n.