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For the pillowy clouds that around him lie,
Soften, but din not his light;
Things that are beauteous, lust'rous, gay,
To the raptured view arise,
Of odours, and rainbow dyes;
All is gladness, freshness, and life,
And can death intrude ? -the tomb
Yes ! hark to that heavy boom,
yon grove there issues a band Of infant forms, clad in white, And upborne by many a small fair hand,
A coffin, with flowers bedight; And behind there are duskier forms, who weep O'er that innocent thing in its last cold sleep.
No wonder, I wot, that ye mourn,
Thus early to seek the tomb,
A flower plucked in early bloom ;
Fair ones, bearing your playmate now,
Less happy, methinks, are ye ;
Of some the worse fate may be,
Where now is the feeling so gay,
That gladdened my heart erewhile ? Swept like the sunbeam of winter away,
And tears take place of a smile. Less bright do the flowers seem, less vivid the green ,That funeral has passed like a cloud o'er the scene.
O, each moment, or bright, or chill,
To some must death's herald be, For his sable pennon is floating still,
No spot from its shade is free;
He owns no season he knows no stay-
I cannot weep! I dare not pray!
The vory source of tears is dry!
Avails the prayer of agony ?
heart I cannot pierce that clouded sky
I cannot tear those bonds apart.
While with resistless pangs I strive,
As never guilty wretch hath striven; A voice, whene'er I shriek, Forgive !!
Replies, “ Thou can’st not be forgiven.' I know not if from hell or heaven,
That voice of vengeance comes and came ; But on my heart its words are graven,
In characters of living flame.
Ye guilty joys! whose transient glow
I pledged my forfeit soul to share ; Where are your false illusions now ?
Your evanescent transports, where ? Alas I the only fruits ye bear,
For which I dared my heaven resign, Are death, and darkness, and despair
And these accursed fruits are mine !
Death loh! I cannot, will not die l.
Ye faithless demons I come, ah ! come, And snatch me from eternity,
And save me from the threatening tomb... Did ye not lure me to my doom ?
Oh come, ere life's last tie shall sever, Ere hope's last ray in endless gloom
Shall: set and I am lost for ever!
They pass--and shall I turn mine eye
Untouched by love, by fear unawed; I spurned thy mercy. Now thy rod
Smites deep-but oh ! I dare not crave The boon thy grace bad then bestowed.
There is no
in the grave.
It comes 1 it comes ! I feel it now
The foe bath aimed his final dait; The dews of death are on my brow The pangs of hell are in my
heart I faint beneath that cureless smartOh! mercy
the strife is o'er : Ere the last link is torn apart,
And I am lost for ever more!
THE LAST UNSENTENCED SINNER.
-'Twas a dread vision ! Methought I stood before the judgment-seat Naked and pale,—the last unsentenced sinner. On either side, a dread array of angels Pure as their great Creator,-parted wide, The wicked and the righteous. In the midst, Glorious in his wrath, appeared the Judge ! Doomed in my conscience—scarce dared 1 lift My eyes to mark his visage, lest his glance Instant, should hurl me to perdition. The books lay open-how my spirit shook, As listening myriads—piled on myriads round