'A 'N ' 
 
 -soaa 
 
THE 
 
 WIDOW 
 
 THE CITY OF NAIN; 
 
 BY THOMAS [DALE, 
 
 OF BENE'T COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 " Quid prius dicam solitis Parentis 
 " Laudibus, qui res hominum ac deoruin, 
 " Qui mare et terras, variisque mundum 
 
 " Temperat horis. HOR. Od. 12. Lib. 1. 
 
 " Women received their dead raised to life." HEB. xi. 35. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. M. RICHARDSON, 23, CORNHILL ; 
 
 J. HATCHARD, PICCADILLY; 
 AND DEIGHTON AND SONS, CAMBRIDGE. 
 MDCCCXXI. 
 
EARLIEST AND DEAREST FRIEND, 
 THE FOLLOWING POEMS ARE INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR, 
 
 AS A SLIGHT BUT SINCERE TOKEN 
 
 OF 
 
 AFFECTION AND ESTEEM. 
 
 M271456 
 
THE 
 
 WIDOW OF NAIN, 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 I. 
 
 AND why this look of wild affright, 
 
 " This burning tear, and pallid brow ; 
 
 Does some dark vision of the night 
 
 ( With stern remembrance haunt thee now ? 
 
 Why thus should fancied fear appal ? 5 
 
 Thou seest 'tis but illusion all. 
 
 Soft sleep has soothed me and my breast , 
 
 " Is free from pain, except for thee ; 
 
 Calm and unbroken was my rest, 
 
 " And why should thine less tranquil be? 10 
 
 Cease then, my mother weep no more, 
 
 Thy dream of agony is o'er : 
 
8 THE WIDOW OF NAlN*. 
 
 " And look not thus 1 cannot bear 
 
 " That look of horror and despair : 
 
 " Thy tears my former pangs renew, 15 
 
 " Thou would'st not wish to pain me too. 
 
 " Forget the fear that made thee weep ; 
 
 " Be calm perchance thou yet may'st sleep. 
 
 " Still dost thou linger ? 1 f in vain 
 
 <c I plead the sufferings all thine own 20 
 
 " To urge repose, yet think again 
 
 " I plead not for thyself alone. 
 " Think, should exhausted nature fail, 
 " (Which from thy cheek, so deadly pale, 
 " I augur with increasing dread) 25 
 
 " Who then would watch beside niy bed ? 
 <( Or who, unwearied, soothe like thee 
 " The long, long nights of agony ? 
 ' { I know 'twould grieve thee to resign 
 " This care nor should I less repine ; 
 " No hand to me so dear as thine. 
 " Then come, my mother, and recline 
 " Upon my couch and it shall be 
 tt My welcome task to watch by thee, 
 " As thou hast often watched by me." 35 
 
THE WIDOW OF 
 
 Subdued his mother fondly smiled : 
 
 That smile, dissolved in tears, soon fled 
 Her words were choked she faintly said 
 
 " Jehovah bless thee, oh my child !" 
 
 II. 
 
 Though still, he sleeps not ceaseless pain 40 
 
 Throbs in his burning breast again, 
 
 And yet nor sighs nor murmurs break 
 
 From his closed lips, lest she should wake. 
 
 Fitful and faint her slumber seems. 
 
 Broken by wild disordered dreams ; 45 
 
 Oh wretched mother ! o'er thy breast 
 
 Dark presage reigns thou canst not rest ; 
 
 On thy cold brow that sleep may press, 
 
 Which springs from very weariness, 
 
 It brings no pause from misery 50 
 
 'Tis not forgetfulness to thee. 
 
 The sight that never yet hath been, 
 
 Is present now to Fancy's eye ; 
 Prophetic visions dimly seen 
 
 That soon shall close in certainty. 55 
 
 c 
 
10 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 And if ? entranced, thou dost not hear 
 
 Pain's stifled whispers in thine ear 
 
 A deep groan rings, a dying groan 
 
 That chills thy life-blood with its tone. 
 
 Though misery marked thine earlier date, 60 
 
 And sternly fell the stroke of Fate, 
 
 It left thee not all desolate 
 
 Lone widowed poor : in every ill 
 
 One solace soothed thy sorrow still : 
 
 'Tis fleeting fast not childless yet? 65 
 
 Thou shalt be, ere to-morrow set. 
 
 III. 
 
 And who reclines expiring there ? 
 
 It is her son her only son ; 
 The child of many a fervent prayer 
 
 She loves, as they can love alone 
 
 Whose hearts are centred all in one. 70 
 
 She had another once but he 
 Long since has been, where all must be : 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 11 
 
 He fell for Zion happier far 
 
 To die, as he had lived, unchained, 75 
 
 Than mourn her latest, deadliest war, 
 
 And view her sacred shrine profaned, 
 
 His God dishonoured and disdained. 
 She saw, but could not share his fate, 
 
 And exiled now, and broken-hearted, 80 
 
 Far from her native vales departed 
 To linger through her joyless date, 
 In home that more became her state : 
 And there in loneliness to mourn, 
 Until her orphan babe was born. 85 
 
 But from the moment of his birth 
 
 She strove to check the murmuring tear : - 
 
 She had a hope, that still was dear; 
 A tie, that bound her still to earth : 
 And o'er him though at times she wept, 90 
 
 When Memory woke her past distress, 
 And gazed upon him as he slept, 
 
 And felt that he was fatherless 
 All was not suffering as she prest 
 Her blooming infant to her breast, 95 
 
12 THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 
 
 And sought and shared his fond caress, 
 
 And watched his opening loveliness, 
 
 Oft midst her sadness has she smiled 
 
 Upon her yet unconscious child, 
 
 Till passion's strife began to cease, 100 
 
 And sorrow softened into peace. 
 
 Still, as from infancy he grew, 
 
 His mother's love waxed stronger too : 
 
 It was her sole delight to trace 
 
 His father's features in his face, 1 05 
 
 And fondly deem in him restored, 
 
 The image of her buried lord. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Alas ! while health and hope were high, 
 
 And youth shone sparkling in his eye, 1 10 
 
 And scarce was manhood's spring begun 
 Passed the destroying Angel by, 
 
 And smote the Widow's son ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 She saw him Death's untimely prey, 
 
 Struck with the blight of slow decline ; 115 
 
 She watched his vigour waste away, 
 
 His ardent spirit droop and pine. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 13 
 
 The rose upon his cheek, she knew, 
 
 Bloomed not with health's transparent hue ; 
 
 It was a softer, fainter glow 120 
 
 A tint of fading loveliness, 
 
 Which told, a canker lurked below : 
 
 So gleams o'er fields of wintry snow 
 
 The pale moon, cold and comfortless. 
 And oft she marked within his eye 125 
 
 A wild unwonted brilliancy * 
 
 The lovely, but delusive ray 
 Of nature sinking to decay : 
 And oft she caught his stifled moan- 
 It breathed a deep and hollow tone, 1 30 
 Which told of death, ere life was gone. 
 At times, when fever's burning flush 
 Heightened consumption's hectic blush, 
 Fond hope the latest still to leave, 
 The first to flatter and deceive , 35 
 Once more would brighten but to fly 
 When that false flush forsook his cheek. 
 
 And spoke the pang he would not speak, 
 And froze her fears to certainty. 
 
14- THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 
 
 Nor deem it strange, that hope had power 140 
 
 To soothe her soul in such an hour ; 
 Where time has rent the lordly tower, 
 
 And moss entwines the arches grey, 
 Springs many a light and lovely flower 
 
 That lends a lustre to decay. 145 
 
 Thus, while existence wanes away. 
 
 Consumption's fevered cheek will bloom, 
 And Beauty's brightest beams will play, 
 
 In mournful glory, o'er the tomb. 
 
 V. 
 
 The spirit of her son to cheer, 1 50 
 
 With hopes, she now had ceased to feel ; 
 From that dread stroke, which menaced near, 
 
 A few short bitter days to steal : 
 To soothe the languor of decay 
 
 She strove all other cares were fled ; 155 
 
 And midnight's gloom, and morning's ray, 
 
 Still found her watching by his bed, 
 To render, with unwearied hand, 
 All love could do, or pain demand. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlH. 15 
 
 The very firmness of despair 160 
 
 Had nerved her weaker heart to bear ; 
 Or never had that mother borne 
 
 To see him die and thus to die 
 Untimely wasting, ere the morn 
 
 Of youth had past unclouded by 1 65 
 
 While art essayed in vain to save, 
 Or smoothe his passage to the grave. 
 Whatever his inward pangs might be, 
 
 He told not mute, and me'ekly still, 
 
 He bowed him to Jehovah's will, 1 70 
 
 Nor murmured at the stern decree ; 
 For gently falls the chastening rod 
 On him, whose hope is in his God : 
 For her too, who beside his bed 
 
 Still watched with fond maternal care, 1 75 
 
 For her he breathed the pious prayer 
 The tear of love" and pity shed. 
 Oft would he bid her try to rest, 
 
 And turn his pallid face away. 
 
 Lest some unguarded look betray ] 80 
 
 The pangs, nor sigh nor sound expressed, 
 
16 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 When torture racked his breast, 'twas known 
 
 By sudden shivering starts alone : 
 
 Yet would her searching glance espy 
 
 The look of stifled agony 1 So 
 
 For what can 'scape a mother's eye ? 
 
 She deemed in health she loved him more 
 
 Than ever mother loved before ; 
 
 But oh ! when thus in cold decay, 
 
 So placid, so resigned he lay, 1 9O 
 
 And she beheld him waste away, 
 
 And marked that gentle tenderness 
 
 Which watched and wept for her distress ; 
 
 Then did her transient firmness melt 
 
 To tears of love, more deeply felt ; 1 95 
 
 And dearer still he grew and dearer- 
 
 E'en as the day of death drew nearer. 
 
 VI. 
 
 >Tis past the icy damps of Death 
 
 " O'er my cold frame dissolving steal ; 
 
 " I draw a pang with every breath, 
 " A pang I soon shall cease to feel. 
 
*THE WIDOW OF NAlW. 17 
 
 tl While aught of hope remained I strove 
 " The pain that wrung my breast to hide, 
 
 " Lest it should wound thy anxious love 
 
 " I could not thus have died. 205 
 
 " Oh no, my mother ! ere we part, 
 
 " Know thou the faith that cheers my heart, 
 
 " And calm that wildness of despair, 
 
 " If aught can solace thee 'tis there. 
 
 " I waste no words on those who say, 210 
 
 " *When the dark grave enwraps our clay, 
 
 " The spirit sinks in like decay : 
 
 ' 'Tis but the sinner's specious lie, 
 
 " I know, I feel, I cannot die. 
 
 " Far too from me the vain parade 15 
 
 " Of duties done, and laws obeyed, 
 
 " Which urge presumptuous man to rise, 
 
 16 And claim the meed of Paradise. 
 
 * The Sadducees denied the existence of a future state alto- 
 gether. The Pharisees admitted the doctrine of the resurrec- 
 tion, but substituted the letter for the spirit the ceremonies 
 for the duties of religion. The Jewish people was almost en- 
 tirely composed of these two sects. 
 
18 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 " Nor tell me, mother, as thou wilt, 
 
 " That I have sought Jehovah's will : 220 
 
 a Thou little know'st the secret guilt 
 
 " That taints my purest homage still. 
 " If I have stood where others fell, 
 " And trod the saint's rough path 'tis well 
 " By prayer and pious deeds were shewn 225 
 
 " My faith, my hope but these alone. 
 " Taught by the word of life, I knew 
 " How vain was all that man could do, 
 u If God his holiest acts approve, 
 " 'Tis not injustice but in love. 230 
 
 " I cast my worthless deeds away, 
 
 " My sin with bitterness deplored, 
 
 " And sought the mercy of the Lord ; 
 <c And now when flesh and soul decay, 
 " That mercy is my only stay. 235 
 
 * c Think not I tremble at the grave 
 
 " Or sigh for life no ! but for thee 
 " Harsh were the hand that sought to save, 
 
 " For Death is victory to me. 
 " Repine not, though the gift he gave 240 
 
 " Jehovah calls thee to resign ; 
 
THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 19 
 
 " If desolate, and lonely left 
 
 " On earth thou art not all bereft ; 
 
 " For ihee may endless glories shine, 
 
 " And Israel's faithful God be thine. 245 
 
 " My spirit fails I can no more, 
 " Mother ! farewell ! 'twill soon be o'er ; 
 
 " Soon will the last worst struggle cease. 
 f6 Father of Mercies ! let thy power 
 " Sustain me in the trying hour, 250 
 
 " And all shall then be peace !" 
 
 VII. 
 
 Noon came and fled and evening grey 
 
 Cast o'er the room a sombre shade : 
 Alike to her were night and day 
 Her eye was never turned away 255 
 
 From the low couch where he was laid. 
 She could not weep she could not pray, 
 Her soul was dark and with despair 
 Devotion mingles not the prayer 
 
 Breathed hopelessly, was breathed in vain : 260 
 
 Her all of being centred there, 
 
 And dragged her thoughts to earth again. 
 
20 THE WIDOW OF 
 
 Her's was that bitterness of woe, 
 
 Which sighs or tears can never reach, 
 
 Which mocks the bounded powers of speech : 965 
 A recklessness of all below 
 
 Of all around above- but one 
 
 The dying youth she gazed upon. 
 So looks the mariner on the wave, 
 Which onward rolls his opening grave ; 270 
 
 On battle fields, with slaughter red, 
 Where friend by friend has fought and bled, 
 So looks the dying on the dead. 
 Her hopes, her love, her earthly bliss, 
 Her very soul was bound in his ; 275 
 
 And now the fatal hour was nigh, 
 When all but life with him must die, 
 And what when he had ceased to be; 
 Qh ! what was life but misery ? 
 
 A night with cheerless gloom o'ercast, 280 
 
 A maddening memory of the past ; 
 The desert of the joyless breast, 
 Death's apathy without its rest. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 21 
 
 via. 
 
 Mute, motionless, as if he slept, 
 
 His head upon her breast reclined ; 285 
 
 And yet, though horror coldly crept 
 Through every vein, she never wept, 
 
 Calm and resolved, but not resigned. 
 When Hope's last lingering ray was o'er, 
 
 Despair itself her heart might steel, C 290 
 
 Through all that she had felt before 
 
 And all that she was now to feel. 
 Ha ! why that wild convulsive start ? 
 The agony has reached his heart; 
 
 The parting pang, that throbs no more, 295 
 
 Has withered life, and all is o'er. 
 No ! still he lives ; th' unequal strife 
 Still nature bears, if that be life 
 A closing conflict soon to cease 
 A prelude to eternal peace* 300 
 
 A moment as the fiery ball 
 Flashes, but darkens ere it fall : 
 A moment, waked from that deep trance, 
 His eye beamed forth, and in its glance 
 
22 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 There was a fiery energy 3O5 
 
 A lambent ray, life's last endeavour 
 
 To sparkle ere it fade for ever 
 And summon all its strength to die. 
 Still heavenly Hope's undying flame 
 Shone 'midst the wreck of nature's frame ; 31O 
 
 And through the mortal could she see 
 The germ of immortality. 
 He strove to speak he gasped for breath 
 Not all in vain though instant death 
 Had touched his hearty one faltering word . 315 
 
 He spoke, and yet another ; 
 (The rest were as a dying groan, 
 An indistinct and hollow moan:) 
 And all he said, and all she heard, 
 
 Was, "mother! dearest mother !" 32O 
 
 Life could no more : he sighed he ceased 
 
 His head upon her bosom lay; 
 She looked without a groan released, 
 
 The soul had passed away. 
 A smile was still upon his face, 325 
 
 A placid calmness on his brow, 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 Which Death itself could not erase ; 
 
 These might have soothed her once, but now 
 
 IX, 
 
 'Tis eve the sun's departing beam 330 
 
 Serenely sheds his purest gleam ; 
 
 The liquid clouds of airy lightness, 
 
 Which tempered his meridian brightness, 
 
 Float graceful thro' the fragrant air, 
 
 And thousand hues reflected there, 335 
 
 In varied lustre shine ; 
 Day, like a virgin, whose young bloom, 
 Lost love, and blighted hopes consume, 
 
 Is loveliest in decline. 
 
 It beams for all yet only he, 340 
 
 Whose breast from pining care is free, 
 (If such, alas ! on earth there be,) 
 Will gaze on that fair eastern sky, 
 With bounding heart and raptured eye. 
 
24- THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 To him, whose pride disdains to weep 345 
 
 The cureless grief that will not sleep, 
 
 Fair nature smiles in vain ; 
 He only dwells, 'midst such a scene, 
 On happier hours that once have been, 
 
 And ne'er shall be again. 350 
 
 ****** 
 
 So deem the souls that sternly bear, 
 
 And madly pride them in despair ; 
 
 Presumptuous beings of a day, 
 
 Who know no cares beyond their clay. 355 
 
 Not thus did Zion's bard survey 
 
 The glories of Jehovah's might ; 
 His warm soul kindled, like a ray 
 
 Shot from that orb of living light. 
 
 " Lord ! what is man that thou hast given 360 
 
 " To him this wondrous frame of heaven ? 
 " This sun, unmated and alone, 
 " Who looks in glory from his throne, 
 " A feeble image of thine own ? 
 " Our God, from' whom these wonders came, 
 " How great ! how matchless is thy name !" 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN*. 25 
 
 X. 
 
 Fair smiles that lovely orb above 
 
 On many a varied scene beneath ; 
 The ray that gilds the bower of love 
 
 Gleams o'er the sable train of death. 370 
 
 And not an eye was upward cast, 
 Of all that now through Nai'n past ; 
 The fire of youth's undaunted brow 
 Was quenched in pensive sadness now ; 
 And every maiden's cheek was wet, 375 
 
 With tender tears of fond regret. 
 Ah ! what avails that sacred tear 
 To him, who lies on yon rude bier ; 
 Can grief recal his blighted bloom, 
 Or pity reach him in the tomb ? 380 
 
 No doomed in Death's cold grasp to lie, 
 He wakes not till this earth and sky 
 
 Shrink from before Jehovah's eye, 
 
 . 
 And crumble into vacancy : 
 
 Till the last trump shall cleave the skies, 385 
 
 And bid the dead of ages rise ! 
 
26 THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 
 
 XL 
 
 Yes ! woe may crush, but cannot bow 
 
 Man's spirit of unbending steel ; 
 
 He bears the wound, that cannot heal, 
 With haughty heart, and tearless brow, 390 
 
 As if he thought it scorn to feel. 
 That struggle with despair we see, 
 "With awe too strong for sympathy. 
 But oh ! in woman's worst distress 
 There is a touching tenderness : 395 
 
 It is not beauty, youth, or grace, 
 Nor aught that misery can erase : 
 But 'tis a spell, its source unknown, 
 And they who weep not for their own 
 Will melt at her's, and her's alone. 400 
 
 Pensive, yet silent are the crowd, 
 For heartfelt grief is never loud ; 
 Their sighs are breathed, their tears are shed 
 More for the living than the dead. 
 For whom does Friendship thus lament? 405 
 
 On whom those looks of pity bent ? 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 27 
 
 Gaze on the mourners, thou wilt see 
 But one who weeps not that is she. 
 
 
 XII. 
 Her eye is fixed upon the bier, 
 
 Her cheek is cold and colourless : 410 
 
 The bursting sigh, the burning tear, 
 
 Have passed from sorrow's wild excess, 
 
 To still unconscious fixedness : 
 For strong emotions when they fade 
 Cast o'er the brow a deeper shade ; 415 
 
 And sated passion sinks the breast 
 To silence apathy not rest. 
 Perchance the horrors of that night 
 Had withered soul, and sense, and sight ; 
 While memory, overborne by grief, 420 
 
 Had flown to madness for relief. 
 On all around, earth mountains sky, 
 She gazed with utter vacancy. 
 Behold the rock-hewn sepulchre ! 
 
 The solemn sight appals not her : 425 
 
 Others grow pale to mark the spot, 
 And yet she weeps not startles not. 
 
28 THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 
 
 Gaze on her brow ; what meet ye there ? 
 
 Horror and wildness and despair 
 
 The deep intensity of thought ; 430 
 
 The brain to utter frenzy wrought. 
 
 'Tis not that wavering woman's grief, 
 
 Which bursts in one impassioned flow ; 
 But courts and soon admits relief 
 
 Surviving friends may yet bestow, 435 
 
 When hope, and love, and joy remain, 
 To bid the mourners smile again ; 
 'Tis that severer weight of woe, 
 
 Which neither asks nor finds redress, 
 And only seeks, unseen, to know 44O 
 
 Its own unchanging bitterness 
 
 xni. 
 
 Among the train that walked before, 
 
 His harp the village-minstrel bore 
 
 He marked, and struck the light chords o'er ; 
 
 For well he knew the soft controul 445 
 
 Of music o'er the human soul ; 
 
 And thought, if earthly solace could, 
 
 This yet might wake a milder mood. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAiN. 29 
 
 His was that simple melody 
 
 Wild plaintive uncontrolled by art, 450 
 
 Which steals resistless to the heart, 
 And sets the prisoned feelings free, 
 Within that gloomy cell comprest, 
 Deep shrine of woe the human breast. 
 Yes! while those notes of magic last 455 
 
 The present fades into the past ; 
 The scenes of other days return, 
 And youth's unquenched emotions burn : 
 The ardent hopes that charmed and fled 
 The fond remembrance of the dead ; 460 
 
 The gentle eye, that beamed to bless, 
 The look, whose smile was tenderness ; 
 The voice, once wont with love to thrill, 
 Now mute, yet unforgotten still 
 The form that but with life can die, 4(>5 
 
 Whose monument is memory. 
 E'en they, whom pride impels to bear, 
 And quell repining in despair ; 
 By flushed or faded cheeks reveal 
 They once have felt they still must feel. 470 
 
30 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 This meed alone the heart repays 
 
 To bards like him, the worthiest praise ; 
 
 He hears it in the whispered sigh, 
 
 And sees it in the glistening eye. 
 
 Such is that sweet Helvetian strain,* 475 
 
 Whose notes to fond affection dear, 
 
 Unman the hardy mountaineer, 
 
 And quell the warrior's martial fire, 
 
 And warm his heart with strong desire, 
 To see his native hills again. 480 
 
 To high and holy themes alone, 
 
 That sacred harp was wont to swell 
 Of Judah's fall, and Zion's moan, 
 
 And Him, whom prophet bards foretell 
 Her present hope, her future King, 485 
 
 The glowing minstrel loved to sing. 
 Hushed is that warm enraptured dream ; 
 
 The notes of joy have ceased to flow 
 Responsive to their wonted theme ; 
 
 But mournful is the strain, and low 490 
 
 * The Ranee des Vac/ies, which tune was interdicted in the 
 French armies, on account of its tendency to induce desertion 
 in the Swiss auxiliaries. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 31 
 
 And all in mute attention hung, 
 
 While thus the solemn dirge he sung : 
 
 < Dear as thou wert. and justly dear, 
 
 " We will not weep for thee ; 
 " One thought shall check the starting tear, 495 
 
 " It is that thou art free. 
 " And thus shall Faith's consoling power 
 
 " The tears of love restrain ; 
 
 I 
 <e Oh ! who that saw thy parting hour, 
 
 " Could wish thee here again ? 500 
 
 . 
 
 _ 
 " Triumphant in thy closing eye 
 
 " The hope of glory shone, 
 
 . 
 rt Joy breathed in thine expiring sigh, 
 
 " To think the fight was won. 
 " Gently the passing spirit fled, 505 
 
 " Sustained by grace Divine, 
 " Oh! may such grace on me be shed, 
 
 " And make my end like thine ."* 
 
 * Numbers xxiii. 10. 
 
32 THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Slow ceased that soft and solemn strain, 
 
 Faltering his latest accents fell, 510 
 
 Sad, as to friends the last farewell 
 And, while he soothed that mourner's pain, 
 His tears burst forth: the generous heart, 
 
 The grief it seeks to heal will share ; 
 And calm cold pity can impart 5 1 5 
 
 Small solace to despair. 
 The dying notes were borne away 
 
 On the light breeze, deep as the sigh 
 Of orphans o'er a parent's clay ; 
 
 And sad as that low melody 520 
 
 Which to the rising whirlwind's sighs 
 The wild JEolian lyre replies. 
 She heard, she yielded her pale cheek 
 
 The hectic of emotion flushed, 
 
 And all a mother's softness rushed 525 
 
 Into her eye she strove to speak 
 The grief, till now in silence kept, 
 
 To shun the pity of the crowd, 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 33 
 
 Burst wildly forth and now she wept 
 
 In tears of bitterness aloud, 530 
 
 XV. 
 
 At length she spake " My son ! my son ! 
 
 " Sole solace of my sinking years ! 
 " Though thou art fled, and there is none 
 
 " Whom Nature's sacred tie endears, 
 " To feel, and do as thou hast done; 535 
 
 " Yet not for this my tears : 
 " Oh no ! afflictions all my own 
 " Could not have wrung one murmuring groan, 
 " And sorrow, sickness, agony 
 
 " Yea, death itself I would have borne, 540 
 
 " (So thou hadst closed my dying eye) 
 
 " Ere thus o'er thee to mourn. 
 " Lonely I lingered on through life, 
 " The prey of wretchedness and strife, 
 " Till thou wert lent me to restore 545 
 
 " The peace I thought to feel no more. 
 " And blessed have I been in thee 
 " For thou wert all and more to me 
 " Than duty binds a son to be. 
 
 F 
 
34- THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 " With thee my bliss once more begun, 550 
 
 u Entwined with thine it grew ; 
 " Oh ! since thy transient race is run, 
 
 " Would mine were ended too ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " I thank ye, friends ere this I knew 
 
 " Your hearts, your friendship warm and true ; 555 
 
 " But oh ! forgive me if my grief, 
 
 " Finds not in sympathy relief; 
 
 " It cannot banish my despair, 
 
 " It cannot aid my soul to bear 
 
 " That ye should sorrow too. 560 
 
 " Then not for me, but if ye mourn 
 
 " For him, I would not check the tear 
 " From love, from life, untimely torn, 
 
 " It proves his memory still is dear, 
 
 " He fell not unlamented here. 565 
 
 et My hopes have sunk to rise no more 
 
 " But your's may every blessing be, 
 " Children like him ye now deplore, 
 
 " And friends as ye have proved to me. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 35 
 
 " Or, if so will the Power Divine, 570 
 
 " Your friends, your child, in peace resign 
 
 " But not with agony like mine. 
 
 " E'en yet, those fatal moments seem 
 
 " The fever of a hideous dream; 
 
 " Nor dare I trust my whirling brain 575 
 
 " To trace that deadly hour again : 
 
 " To think is madness, and to grief 
 
 " Like mine, no words can bring relief. 
 
 " No more in silence let me seal 
 
 " What then I felt what now I feel 580 
 
 " It is enough he died and I , 
 
 " I loathe to live, and cannot die. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " It must not be. This fixed despair, 
 
 <6 This wild impiety of woe, 
 " With mad presumption seem to dare 585 
 
 " The mighty Hand that struck the blow ; 
 " 'Tis vain, and I must learn to bear 
 
 " If nought on earth can yield redress, 
 * 6 Friend of the mourner, hear my prayer, 
 
 " Thou yet canst soothe my wretchedness. 590 
 
36 THE WIDOW OF NA?N. 
 
 " Oh ! deign in mercy to control 
 
 " The guilty transports of my soul, 
 
 " Bend me submissive to thy will, 
 
 " And be my God, my Father still. 
 
 " 'Tis righteous, though severe I know 595 
 
 " My sins deserved a deeper blow : 
 
 <e If none on earth more deep could be, 
 
 (t This wounds not in eternity, 
 
 " And there a hope may yet be mine 
 
 <( Soon shall the star of Zion rise, (300 
 
 (< O'er Judah's scattered race to shine, 
 
 " And point the path to paradise. 
 " For him despite the maddening thought 
 " With dark and dread remembrance fraught 
 *' For him too would I bless thy name : 605 
 
 *' He died not as the guilty die, 
 
 " Thy power sustained his sinking frame, 
 (( And death was lost in victory. 
 
 " Whatever his sins had been, he deemed 
 
 " Far other than to me they seemed ; 6 1 
 
 " He knew them boundless but he knew 
 
 " Thy mercy was unbounded too : 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 37 
 
 " That mercy to my soul accord, 
 
 " And be thy chastening rod deplored, 
 
 " With meekness, though in tears, oh Lord ! 615 
 
 " Vanished is now the only ray, 
 
 " That cheered my dark and desolate way; 
 
 " Soon must my wasted frame decay, 
 
 " Nor shrink I from my fate- with none 
 " To watch me on my dying day, 6'20 
 
 " I sink into the tomb alone : 
 
 " So let it be since he is gone 
 et I ask no earthly hope be thou, 
 " Oh Israel's God ! my portion now : 
 " And when the pangs of memory prey 625 
 
 " On my cold heart, be THOU my stay, 
 " And teach my sinking soul to say, 
 " It is the Lord His will be done.' " 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 She ceased upon the green hill's brow 
 
 A cloud of dust is gathering now : 630 
 
 Hark ! through the light air echoing loud 
 
 The murmurs of a mingled crowd. 
 
38 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 Onward the tumult rolls 'tis near 
 
 They listen, mute with breathless fear : 
 
 Is it the lordly Roman's car, 635 
 
 The pomp and pageantry of war, 
 
 Where Zion's sons must swell the train, 
 
 Of foes their inmost souls disdain ? 
 
 Or those bold warriors wild, yet free 
 
 The rebel bands of Galilee ? 640 
 
 No they are brethren and that cry 
 
 Is the glad shout of victory ; 
 
 'Tis high Hosanna's loud acclaim, 
 
 'Tis royal David's honoured name. 
 
 And now they wind the steep descent 645 
 
 The glance, in swift inquiry bent. 
 
 Wandered o'er all, but fixed on one 
 
 Circled by numbers, yet alone. 
 
 Robed in the garb of poverty, 
 
 Nor king, nor priest, nor warrior he ; 650 
 
 Yet why they know not in his mien 
 
 A latent loftiness was seen : 
 
 A more than mortal majesty, 
 
 That daunted while it fixed the eye. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 39 
 
 The countless throng that round him pressed, 655 
 
 To him their songs of praise addressed ; 
 
 Not thus had Abram's seed adored, 
 
 A heathen chief an earthly lord. 
 
 They come they meet but, ere they past, 
 
 One gracious, pitying look he cast 660 
 
 On that pale mourner marked her tear, 
 
 And bade her " weep not ;" to the bier 
 
 He turned but, ere he spoke his will, 
 
 Each trembled with a sudden thrill 
 
 Of conscious awe the train stood still ! 665 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The mourner speechless and amazed, 
 
 On that mysterious stranger gazed, 
 
 If young he were, 'twas only seen 
 
 From lines that told what once had been ; 
 
 As if the withering hand of Time 670 
 
 Had smote him ere he reached his prime. 
 
 The bright rose on his cheek was faded, 
 
 His pale fair brow with sadness shaded 
 
40 THE WIDOW OF NAltf. 
 
 Yet through the settled sorrow there 
 
 A conscious grandeur flashed which told 675 
 
 Unswayed by man, and uncontrolled, 
 Himself had deigned their lot to share, 
 And borne because he willed to bear. 
 Whatever his being or his birth, 
 
 His soul had never stooped to earth ; 680 
 
 Nor mingled with the meaner race, 
 Who shared or swayed his dwelling place : 
 But high mysterious and unknown, 
 Held converse with itself alone : 
 
 And yet the look that could depress 685 
 
 Pride to its native nothingness ; 
 And bid the specious boaster shun 
 The eye he dared not gaze upon, 
 Superior love did still reveal 
 
 Not such as man for man may feel 690 
 
 No all was passionless and pure 
 
 That godlike majesty of woe, 
 Which counts it glory to endure 
 
 And knows nor hope nor fear below ; 
 Nor aught that still to earth can bind, 695 
 
 But love and pity for mankind. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NA1N. 4-1 
 
 And in his eye a radiance shone 
 
 Oh ! how shall mortal dare essay, 
 On whom no prophet's vest is thrown, 
 
 To paint that pure celestial ray ? 700 
 
 Mercy, and tenderness, and love, 
 
 And all that finite sense can deem 
 Of him who reigns enthroned above ; 
 
 Light such as blest Isaiah's dream. 
 When to the awe-struck Prophet's eyes, 705 
 
 God bade the star of Judah rise 
 There heaven in living lustre glowed 
 There shone the Saviour there the God. 
 Oh ye to whom the dying Lord 
 Your sorrows not his own deplored : 710 
 
 Thou, on whose guilt the Saviour cast 
 A look of mercy 'twas his last : 
 Ye who beheld when Jesus died, 
 Say ye for none can tell beside, 
 
 How matchless grace, and love divine, 7 1 5 
 
 In that immortal glance would shine. 
 And she too felt and owned its power 
 To soothe in that despairing hour; 
 
4-2 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 Her pulse beat quick and to her heart 
 
 A ray of rapture seemed to dart : 720 
 
 The cloud that hung upon her brow 
 
 Wore off and all was comfort now ; 
 
 And why ? she thought not on the dead 
 
 Her sight on him was riveted, 
 
 Whose look such peace and glory shed : 725 
 
 So the wan captive, o'er whose cell 
 
 No solitary sunbeam fell ; 
 
 When years and years have lingered by, 
 
 Restored to light and liberty, 
 
 Fixes his first enraptured gaze. 730 
 
 Upon the bright sun's living rays. 
 
 ' Short space he stood' his lifted eyes 
 
 To heaven a moment raised he spoke 
 
 These words the solemn silence broke : 
 " Young man, I say to thee, arise !" 735 
 
 XX. 
 
 Where is thy victory, oh Death ? 
 
 A nobler, mightier arm than thine 
 Hath burst the dark abodes beneath, 
 
 And bade the grave her prey resign. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 43 
 
 Jesus, thy victor and thy Lord, 740 
 
 Has rent thy once resistless sword : 
 
 Fell tyrant of the fatal brow, 
 
 Where are thy wonted triumphs now ? 
 
 He moves he breathes he lives he wakes 
 
 Swift as the vivid lightning breaks 745 
 
 Through the black tempest's murky night, 
 
 His eye unclosed to life and light ; 
 
 The crimson to his pale cheek rushed 
 
 To his cold heart the life-blood gushed, 
 
 And circled quick through every vein, 750 
 
 And waked the fluttering pulse again. 
 
 Round his closed lips still uneffaced 
 
 Had fixed the smile with which he died ; 
 Death's marble look so well it graced, 
 
 One only charm seemed still denied 755 
 
 'Twas life and what are all beside ? 
 Where is that mortal paleness fled ? 
 Is that the cold smile of the dead? 
 Away ! thou ' busy fiend' Despair, 
 'Tis life itself that kindles there. 760 
 
44 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 'Tis life ! by that almighty word 
 
 His mortal being is restored, 
 
 And reason flashes to his brain, 
 
 And mind and memory wake again. 
 
 Whatever in other worlds he saw 765 
 
 Man knows not none can ever know 
 But peace and joy and holy awe 
 
 Still lightened lingering on his brow, 
 Aiid o'er his face a lustre shed 
 
 Not of the living, or the dead. 770 
 
 c< Where am I ? whither are ye fled 
 
 '* Fair visions of celestial light, 
 " That seemed to hover o'er my head 
 
 " Oh ! bear me with you in your flight. 
 " Can this be earth and must I deem 775 
 
 " 'Twas all an unsubstantial dream ? 
 " 'Tis strange light faded from mine eye, 
 
 u And on my brow such darkness fell 
 
 " As none have ever lived to tell ; 
 " That last mysterious agony 780 
 
 " Which throbs and man has ceased to be : 
 
 " The frame is clay the soul is free. 
 
THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 45 
 
 " I deemed this change had passed on me, 
 
 " And my light spirit soared on high, 
 
 " I know not where from memory 785 
 
 " All passed with life's returning breath ; 
 
 <c Yet still I feel, if such be death, 
 
 " 'Tis blessedness to die. 
 a But speak what means this sable bier, 
 " This funeral train whence came I here ? 790 
 
 " Ha ! thou too, mother thou so near 
 " And I beheld thee not * * * 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Did nature's last convulsive thrill 
 
 Press heavy on her beating brow, 795 
 
 That gentle voice had soothed her still 
 
 And yet she hears not heeds not now 
 She heard in hope, and holy dread, 
 The awful words that raised the dead : 
 She saw the spirit kindle o'er 800 
 
 His pale cold cheek she saw no more 
 
46 THE WIDOW OF NAlN. 
 
 Rushed she not forth to clasp her son ? 
 
 No ! to that high and holy One, 
 
 Urged with resistless zeal she turned , 
 
 Her breast with strong emotions burned 805 
 
 As lowly at his feet she knelt, 
 
 Well might her throbbing bosom melt 
 
 With faith and love, till now unfelt : 
 'Twas God himself she gazed upon. 
 
 Her favoured soul was given to see 810 
 
 The pure incarnate Deity, 
 
 And speech and sight and spirit failed 
 
 Before the Godhead, though 'twas veiled. 
 
 Burning with gratitude and love, 
 
 For utterance long in vain she strove : 815 
 
 At length she spoke " My God ! my Lord ! 
 " Oh ! for that mercy all divine 
 " Which deigned to visit guilt like mine, 
 
 c< For ever be thy name adored. 
 
 " To thee let ransomed Zion bow, 820 
 
 " Her King, her promised Saviour, Thou !" 
 
POEMS. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 i. 
 
 SONG OF A CAPTIVE JEW IN BABYLON. 
 
 I. 
 
 LET the broad veil of darkness be rolled from before 
 thee, 
 
 Oh Lord ! and descend on the wing of the storm ; 
 Dispersed or enslaved are the saints that adore thee, 
 
 And the rude hands of strangers thy temple deform : 
 And Salem, our Salem, lies low and degraded. 
 
 While far from her ruins in exile we pine ; 
 Yet still is the hope of thy " remnant" unfaded 
 
 The hand which implants it, Jehovah, is thine. 
 
 H 
 
50 POEMS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Alas ! we were warned, but we recked not the warning 
 
 Till our warriors grew weak in the day of despair ; 
 And our glory was fled, as the light cloud of morning, 
 
 That gleams for a moment, and melts into air ; 
 As the proud heathens trampled o'er Zion's sad daughter, 
 
 She wept tears of blood o'er her guilt and her woe ; 
 For the voice of her God had commissioned the slaughter, 
 
 The rod of his vengeance had pointed the blow. 
 
 III. 
 
 Though foul are the sins, oh thou lost one ! which stain 
 thee, 
 
 The tear of repentance can wash them away ; 
 Though galling and base are the bonds that enchain thee, 
 
 The God who imposed them can lighten their sway. 
 For a Star yet shall rise o'er the darkness of Judah, 
 
 A Branch yet shall flourish on Jesse's proud stem ; 
 And Zion shall triumph o'er those that subdued her, 
 
 Yea, triumph in giving a Saviour to them ! 
 
POEMS. 51 
 
 II. 
 
 THE MARTYR TO HIS APOSTATE JUDGE. 
 
 I. 
 
 No ! think not I can ever be 
 
 False to my Saviour's hallowed name, 
 For aught that thou could'st offer me 
 
 A little life a little fame : 
 
 
 'Twere weak indeed to lose for them 
 
 A bright unfading diadem. 
 
 11. 
 
 Thou hear'st my firm resolve and now 
 The guards, the racks, the flames prepare ; 
 
 And brand me false and frail as thou, 
 If I fall back, or tremble there. 
 
 Go thou, thy bleeding Lord disown, 
 
 Be mine the faithful Martyr's crown ! 
 
52 POEMS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Aye, thou may'st smile, but not in scorn, 
 Proud minion of a despot's will ; 
 
 Thy direst vengeance have I borne, 
 And stand prepared to bear it still : 
 
 My pride, my glory, shall it be, 
 
 To die for him who died for me ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 And if one passing pang I feel, 
 Deluded crowd! 'tis felt for you; 
 
 E'en thus, resolved the truth to seal, 
 I would that ye were Martyrs too. 
 
 Blest Saviour Lord of Earth and Heaven- 
 
 Oh be their sins and mine forgiven ! 
 
POEMS. 53 
 
 III. 
 
 THE ONLY TRUE HAPPINESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 IN search of enjoyment I wandered in vain, 
 
 With a void in my bosom that nothing could fill ; 
 For Mirth's gayest smile was succeeded by pain, 
 
 And the sweet cup of Pleasure proved bitterness still. 
 The young days of fancy rolled rapidly by, 
 
 And I shrunk with dismay from the future's dark 
 
 gloom, 
 Where the clay-fettered spirit must mourn till it die, 
 
 And man has no rest, but the rest of the tomb. 
 
54? POEMS. 
 
 And yet I have revelled in Hope's fairy dream, 
 
 And tasted the raptures of Love's purest bliss ; 
 Delusive are both, though alluring they seem, 
 
 Like vapours that gleam o'er a hidden abyss. 
 The proud thirst of glory was mine from my birth, 
 
 But what can this world to ambition display 
 Which grasps at the skies, but is bounded by earth, 
 
 A spirit of fire in a prison of clay. 
 
 III. 
 
 And now I have heard of a nobler renown, 
 
 A kingdom unfading, a glory divine ; 
 But the humble alone shall inherit the crown, 
 
 And how shall that kingdom of glory be mine ? 
 Let my strength turn to weakness, my honour to shame, 
 
 The reproach of the cross be my EARTHLY reward ; 
 All, all shall be welcome for one blessed name 
 
 The lowly disciple of Jesus the Lord. 
 
POEMS. 55 
 
 IV. 
 
 JOB'S COMPLAINT. 
 
 I. 
 
 OF all my race there breathes not one 
 
 To comfort or deplore me ; 
 Pain wakes a pulse in every bone, 
 
 And death is closing o'er me. 
 Still doth his lifted stroke delay, 
 
 Protracted tortures dooming, 
 I feel, ere life hath passed away, 
 
 His very worm consuming. 
 
 II. 
 
 Night spreads her mantle o'er the sky, 
 And all around are sleeping ; 
 
 While I, in tears of agony, 
 
 My restless couch am steeping : 
 
56 POEMS. 
 
 I sigh for morn the rising ray 
 Awakes the earth to gladness ; 
 
 I turn with sickening soul away 
 It smiles upon my sadness. 
 
 III. 
 
 Cursed be that day in tempests wild 
 When first, with looks delighted, 
 
 My mother smiled upon her child, 
 _ And felt her pangs requited : 
 
 Oh ! that by human eye unseen, 
 I might have fled from sorrow ; 
 
 And been as though I had not been 
 As I would be to-morrow ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 The light wave sparkling in the beam, 
 That trembles o'er the river, 
 
 A moment sheds its quivering gleam, 
 Then shuns the sight for ever : 
 
POEMS. 57 
 
 So soft a ray can Pleasure shed, 
 While secret snares surround it; 
 
 So swift that faithless Hope is fled, 
 Which wins the heart to wound it. 
 
 V. 
 
 A crown of glory graced my brow, 
 
 Whole nations bent before me ; 
 Princes and hoary sires would bow, 
 
 To flatter, nay, *adore me : 
 To me the widow turned for aid, 
 
 And ne'er in vain addressed me ; 
 For me the grateful orphan prayed 
 
 The soul of misery blessed me. 
 
 * The Greek word irpoaKvvtw, rendered in the New Testa- 
 ment to adore, or to worship, signifies not only the act of 
 adoration due to the Supreme Being alone, but the reverence 
 paid to 11 1011 a re hs, and men of exalted rank, among the Eastern 
 nations. In this sense it frequently occurs in Xenophon's Cy- 
 ropoedia. 
 
58 POEMS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 I raised the drooping wretch that pined 
 
 In lonely anguish lying ; 
 Was balm unto the wounded mind, 
 
 And solace to the dying : 
 Till one stern stroke, of all my state, 
 
 Of all my bliss, bereft me ; 
 And I was worse than desolate, 
 
 For God himself had left me. 
 
 / 
 
 VII. 
 
 Ye too, as life itself beloved, 
 
 When all conspired to bless me, 
 I deemed ye friends but ye have proved 
 
 The foes who most oppress me. 
 I could have borne the slave's rude scorn, 
 
 The wreck of all I cherished, 
 Had one but one remained to mourn 
 
 O'er me, when I too perished. 
 
POEMS. 59 
 
 VIII. 
 
 My children sleep i'n Death's cold shade, 
 
 And nought can now divide them ; 
 Oh ! would the same wild storm had laid 
 
 Their wretched sire beside them ! 
 I had not then been doomed to see 
 
 The loss of all who love me 
 Unbroken would my slumber be, 
 
 Though none had wept above me. 
 
 IX. 
 
 All hope on earth for ever fled, 
 
 A higher hope remaineth ; 
 E'en while his wrath is o'er me shed, 
 
 I know my Saviour reigneth. 
 The worm may waste this withering clay, 
 
 When flesh and spirit sever ; 
 My soul shall see eternal day, 
 
 And dwell with God for ever. 
 
60 POEMS. 
 
 V. 
 
 PETER. 
 
 " And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter 
 
 " remembered the word of the Lord and he went out, 
 
 " and wept bitterly." ST. LUKE, xxii. 61. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHEN thou who in doubt and in danger hadst been 
 
 Devoted and firm to his side, 
 Wert false to thy Lord in the last awful scene, 
 
 And his name and his sorrows denied ; 
 He pitied thy weakness, and pardoned thy fears, 
 
 His last look was mercy to thee ; 
 But oh ! in that moment how bitter thy tears, 
 
 How deep would thy penitence be ! 
 
POEMS. 61 
 
 II. 
 
 And thus, when the storms of temptation arise, 
 
 And the light of his glory is veiled, 
 When the foe of the righteous exults in his prize, 
 
 And the faith of the Christian has failed : 
 Like thee, if repentant the Saviour we seek, 
 
 Oh ! still shall his grace be as free ; 
 Nor will he condemn a believer more weak, 
 
 For a crime which he pardoned in thee. 
 
62 POEMS 
 
 VI. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 " A broken and contrite heart, oh God ! thou wilt not despise." 
 
 PSALM LI. 17. 
 
 MY spirit sinks with darkness and distress ; 
 
 I see thee not, my Hope, my Light, my Lord ! 
 
 Oh ! let thy gracious presence be restored, 
 And rise once more, my Sun of Righteousness ! 
 Still dost thou cease my lonely heart to bless ? 
 
 In tears of blood my guilt has been deplored, 
 
 With keen remorse and bitterness abhorred : 
 Oh ! leave me not thus dark and comfortless, 
 
 But save me, ere I perish ! O'er my soul 
 
 The tempter triumphs ; vengeance and despair 
 
 On my devoted head in thunder roll, 
 
 And yet thou hid'st thy face. I cannot bear 
 
 Thy wrath, my God ! Hell reigns without controul, 
 And fear appals my heart, and sin pollutes my prayer ! 
 
POEMS. 63 
 
 And whither can I turn, but to the throne 
 Of Him I have offended art not thou 
 My God ? A son's loved name I claim not now, 
 
 But thou art still my Father Thou alone 
 
 Unchanging and eternal. I have done 
 
 A deed too dark to breathe, and on my brow 
 The murderer's curse is stamped ; and yet I bow 
 
 And plead thy mercies, oft in triumph known, 
 
 In^hame remembered still. Guilt's venomed sting 
 Strikes deeper at the thought : Thy grace, adored 
 
 In youth, I dare not now essay to sing ; 
 
 My blood-stained hand would taint the sacred chord. 
 
 One only plea a broken heart I bring ; 
 Pardon thy servant's sin, for it is great, oh Lord ! 
 
($4, POEMS 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE FEMALE CONVICT TO HER INFANT. 
 
 I. 
 
 OH sleep not, my babe, for the morn of to-morrow 
 
 Shall soothe me to slumber more tranquil than thine ; 
 The dark grave shall shield me from shame and from 
 sorrow, 
 
 Though the deeds and the doom of the guilty are mine. 
 Not long shall the arm of affection enfold thee, 
 
 Not long shalt thou hang on thy mother's fond breast ; 
 And who with the eye of delight shall behold thee, 
 
 And watch thee, and guard thee, when I am at rest ? 
 
POEMS. 65 
 
 II. 
 
 And yet doth it grieve me to wake thee my dearest, 
 
 The pangs of thy desolate mother to see ; 
 Thou wilt weep when the clank of my cold chain thou 
 hearest, 
 
 And none but the guilty should mourn over me. 
 And yet I must wake thee for while thou art weeping, 
 
 To calm thee I stifle my tears for a while ; 
 But thou smil'st in thy dreams, while thus placidly 
 sleeping, 
 
 And oh ! how it wounds me to gaze on thy smile ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Alas ! my sweet babe, with what pride had I prest thee 
 
 To the bosom, that now throbs with terror and shame, 
 If the pure tie of virtuous affection had blest thee, 
 
 And hailed thee the heir of thy father's high name ! 
 But now with remorse that avails not I mourn thee, 
 
 Forsaken and friendless, as soon thou wilt be, 
 In a world, if it cannot betray, that will scorn thee 
 
 Avenging the guilt of thy mother on thee. 
 
66 POEMS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And when the dark thought of my fate shall awaken 
 
 The deep blush of shame on thy innocent cheek ; 
 When by all, but the God of the Orphan, forsaken 
 
 A home and a father in vain thou shalt seek ; 
 I know that the base world will seek to deceive thee, 
 
 With falsehood like that which thy mother beguiled ; 
 Yet, lost and degraded to whom can I leave thee ? 
 
 Oh God of the fatherless ! pity my child ! 
 
POEMS. 67 
 
 VII. 
 
 WEEP NOT FOR ME. 
 
 WHEN the spark of life is waning, 
 Weep not for me ; 
 
 When the languid eye is straining, 
 Weep not for me : 
 
 When the feeble pulse is ceasing, 
 
 Start not at its swift decreasing ; 
 
 'Tis the fettered soul's releasing 
 Weep not for me. 
 
68 POEMS. 
 
 II. 
 
 When the pangs of death assail me, 
 
 Weep not for me ; 
 Christ is mine He cannot fail me 
 
 Weep not for me : 
 Yes, though sin and doubt endeavour 
 From his love my soul to sever, 
 JESUS is my strength for ever 
 Weep not for me. 
 
POEMS. 69 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, 
 " and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I 
 " have gathered thy children together even as a hen gathereth 
 " her chickens under her wings .... and ye would not/' 
 
 MATT. xxm. 37. 
 
 I. 
 
 O Salem ! who, in proud disdain, 
 
 My faithful prophets slew ; 
 And soon, the cup of guilt to drain, 
 
 Wilt slay thy Saviour too! 
 How had my love thy children blest, 
 
 Their deeds of blood forgot, 
 And led them to eternal rest 
 
 But they consented not ! 
 
70 POEMS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Now shall thy house be desolate. 
 
 Thy glory now shall close ; 
 Nor leave one trace of ruined state, 
 
 To tell where Salem rose : 
 Nor shalt thou thy Redeemer see, 
 
 Nor hail thy crown restored, 
 Till thou shalt say, " How blest is he 
 
 " Whom thou hast sent, oh Lord!" 
 
POEMS. 71 
 
 X. 
 
 DIES TR;E. 
 " The great and terrible day of the Lord." JOEL 11. 31. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHEN the pale moon to blood shall turn, 
 The bright sun vanish from the sky, 
 
 A fiercer flame than his shall burn, 
 A broader light flash forth on high : 
 
 That light, oh Lord ! thy throne shall be 
 
 And circling clouds thy canopy ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Thy voice to being shall recall 
 
 The mouldered dust that once was man 
 The countless multitude of all 
 
 Who lived, since Time itself began : 
 Thy burning car the dead shall see, 
 And catch returning life from Thee. 
 
72 POEMS; 
 
 II. 
 
 Then shall the haughty despots know, 
 Who dared thy martyred saints condemn, 
 
 Thou wert their hope in every woe 
 Thy hand prepared the crown for them. 
 
 Oh ! may that crown of grace be mine ! 
 
 The glory, Lord, be only thine ! 
 
POEMS. 73 
 
 XL 
 
 CHORUS FROM THE " OEDIPUS COLONEUS" OF 
 SOPHOCLES. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 * "O(m TOV irXeovog filpoi/f. K. r. \. 1211 1243. 
 
 I. 
 
 UNKNOWING or unwise were he, 
 
 Who sought to stretch his span 
 Beyond the bounds of Heaven's decree, 
 
 The destined date of man. 
 Corroding grief, and restless care, 
 And fears that darken to despair, 
 
 With life itself began; 
 And they, whose years are longest, find 
 Severer woes are still behind. 
 
 * The classical reader will observe, that this piece, and the 
 following, are by no means intended as literal translations. 
 The Author, however, trusts, that whatever liberties he may 
 have taken with the language, he has not greatly deviated from 
 the spirit or sentiments of the original. 
 
74 POEMS, 
 
 II. 
 
 For how can happiness be won 
 
 By him, whose wild desire, 
 When all the powers of youth are gone, 
 
 Still burns with quenchless fire ? 
 He seeks new charms for heart and eye 
 He seeks and finds satiety. 
 
 No magic of the lyre, 
 No festive dance, or nuptial wreath. 
 Can soothe the restless fear of death. 
 
 HI. 
 
 Oh ! better were it not to be 
 
 To perish, ere the eye 
 Opens on light and misery, 
 
 Or opens but to die ! 
 When the sweet infant's earliest breath 
 Inhales the blighting blast of death, 
 
 And proves his parting sigh. 
 The soul deserts its mortal frame, 
 And seeks the source from, whence it came. 
 
POEMS. 75 
 
 IV. 
 
 Foredoomed to grief, we cannot shun 
 
 The ills that all must know ; 
 The life, with brightest hopes begun, 
 
 May close in darkest woe. 
 The strife of passions vengeful hate, 
 And hopeless love, our youth await ; 
 
 And what remains below ? 
 A bleak old age, which nought can bless, 
 That withers in its loneliness. 
 
 V. 
 
 Thou too art desolate as I 
 
 As on the rocky shore. 
 When the wild tempest howls on high, 
 
 The foaming billows pour : 
 On thy bare head and hoary brow 
 The storm of Fate is beating now 
 
 " 'Tis useless to deplore : 
 " Soon will th' unequal strife be past, 
 " Be firm and bear it to the last." 
 
76 POEMS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 HORACE, ODE XIV. BOOK II. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 " Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume, 
 " Labuntur anni. v 
 
 I. 
 
 ALAS ! my friend, the fleeting years 
 
 Glide rapidly away ; 
 The fearful verge of life appears 
 
 Involved in dark dismay ; 
 The blighting touch of frozen age, 
 And Death's unconquerable rage, 
 
 Are strangers to delay : 
 Nor prayersj nor Virtue's stronger charm 
 The tyrant of the tomb disarm. 
 
POEMS. 
 II. 
 
 The costly sacrifice might bleed, 
 
 Could this avert thy doom ; 
 But will the Power of Darkness heed 
 
 The votive hecatomb r 
 No : does the crown of empire glow 
 Bright on thy brow, or want and woe 
 
 Thy cheerless date consume, 
 The same in Fate's impartial eye 
 One doom awaits thee thou must die ! 
 
 III. 
 
 In vain the battle strife is past, 
 
 The whirlwind, and the wave 
 In vain dank Autumn's sickly blast 
 Hath ceased to swell the grave : 
 Where, through eternal gloom below, 
 The streams of cold Oblivion flow, 
 
 And guilty spirits rave ; 
 Those dreary realms thou soon shalt see, 
 Where thou alas! where all must be! 
 
 77 
 
78 POEMS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thy fair domain, and dearer bride, 
 
 With life shalt thou resign : 
 Of all thy garden's stately pride, 
 
 One tree shall still be thine : 
 Sad o'er its short-lived master's grave. 
 The dark-browed cypress then shall wave 
 
 Thy store of spicy wine 
 Shall redden o'er the marble floor 
 In gay profusion thine no more ! 
 
POEMS. 79 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " Oh Death, where is thy sting ? Oh Grave, where is thy 
 victory ?" 
 
 I. 
 
 THUS Bards of old bewailed their birth, 
 
 Thus shuddering traced their future doom ; 
 For all was wretchedness on earth, 
 
 And doubt and dread beyond the tomb. 
 Did woe their ' life of life' consume, 
 
 Their sweet yet plaintive strains express 
 No hope, but in eternal gloom 
 
 No rest except in nothingness. 
 
80 POEMS, 
 
 II. 
 
 Not thus, when Death itself appears, 
 
 The Christian dreads the stern decree ; 
 Hope soars above this vale of tears, 
 
 And brightens in eternity. 
 Redeemer of the world ! by thee 
 
 Such mercies to thy saints are given ; 
 Such let thy grace accord to me 
 
 The cross on earth the crown in heaven ! 
 
81 
 
 .XIV. 
 
 1. 
 
 ! lone outcast of earth and of heaven, 
 From their loved mountains thy children are driven; 
 Strange chiefs are in thy towers, 
 Strange virgins in thy bowers, 
 And to unhallowed powers 
 Salem is given. 
 
 II. 
 
 Judah thy Judge yet shall sheathe his red sword, 
 Yet to thy hand be the sceptre restored. 
 
 From thee, thus sunk in worth, 
 
 Springs One of mighty birth 
 
 Heaven shall adore, and earth 
 Own him her Lord ! 
 
 M 
 
POEMS. 
 
 XV. 
 
 FUGIT IRREVOCABLE TEMPUS. 
 
 TIME. 
 
 What is your life ? It is even a vapour, which appeareth 
 " for a little time, and then vanisheth away." 
 
 I. 
 
 YES all may grace our mortal day, 
 
 That warms the heart, and wins the eye, 
 
 And gives each ardent sense to stray 
 From rapture to satiety. 
 
 Wealth glory grandeur throned on high 
 And that which melts the heart of stone, 
 
 The magic beam of Beauty's eye- 
 But time glides on and all are gone. 
 
POEMS. 83 
 
 II. 
 
 And thou whom Heaven's high will denies 
 
 To soar above thy fellow-men, 
 For thee as dear a home may rise 
 
 In village cot or mountain glen ; 
 Where, loving and beloved again, 
 
 Thy hopes thy heart may rest on one ; 
 Oh ! what is life ? time flies and then 
 
 Death speeds his dart and both are gone. 
 
 III. 
 
 And thou too, wretch forbear to weep, 
 
 Thy misery need not last for aye 
 Why feed the thought that else might sleep ? 
 
 Why waste in hopeless grief away ? 
 Deserted in thy darker day, 
 
 If friends are fled, and thou alone, 
 Thy God will prove a firmer stay 
 
 Seek Him time flies and thou art gone. 
 
84? 
 
 IV. 
 
 Oh ! what are all the gauds of earth 
 
 Love's melting smile young Beauty's bloom 
 The pomp of wealth the pride of birth, 
 
 Are these remembered in the tomb ? 
 No sunk in cold oblivion's gloom 
 
 They lie their very names unknown 
 The mouldering marble tells their doom 
 
 They lived time fled and they are gone. 
 
 V. 
 
 So thou shalt fall but dost thou deem 
 
 To sleep in peace beneath the sod ? 
 Dash from thy soul that empty dream, 
 
 And know thyself and know thy God. 
 Nor earth, nor time restrain his rod ; 
 
 And thou a few short summers flown, 
 Thou tread'st the path thy fathers trod 
 
 Thy doom is fixed, and hope is gone. 
 
POEMS. 85 
 
 VI. 
 
 Chained to the dust from whence we spring, 
 
 Why thus from yon bright skies be driven ? 
 Oh turn to your eternal King 
 
 Believe repent and be forgiven. 
 Haste seize the proffered hope of Heaven, 
 
 While life and light are yet thine own ; 
 Swift as the passing cloud of even, 
 
 Time glides along and thou art gone! 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Printed by J, F. DOVE, St, John's Square. 
 

 
 
 YC 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY