Watts - BX5200 .W3 1813 v.9

-302 LYRIC POEMS. Gilding the roof, then dropt into the sea, And sudden night devour'd the sweet remains of day ; 7 hus the bright youth just rear'd his shining head From th' obscure shades of life, and sunk among the dead. 71 he rising sun, adorn'd with all his light, Smiles on these walls again: but endless night Reigns uncontrol'd where the dear Gunton lies, He's set for ever, and must never rise. Then why the beams, unseasonable star, These lightsome smiles descendingfrom afar, To greet a mourning house ? In vain the day Breaks thro' the windows with a joyful ray, And marks a shining path along the floors, Bounding the evening and the morning hours in vain it bounds 'em : while vast emptiness And hollow silence reigns thro' all the place, j} Nor heeds the cheerful change of nature's face. Yet nature's wheels will on without control, The sun will rise, the tuneful spheres will roll, And the two nightly bears walk round and watch,the pole. See, while 1 speak, high on her sable wheel Old night advancing, climbs the eastern hill : Troops of dark clouds prepare her way ; behold, How their brown pinions, edg'd with evening gold, Spread shadowing o'er the house, and glide away, Slowly pursuing the declining day ; O'er the broad roof they fly theircircuit still, Thus days before they did, and days to come they will ; But the black cloud that shadows o'er his eyes, Hangs there unmoveable, and never flies : Fain would I bid the enviousgloom be gone , Al fruitless wish ! how are his curtains drawn For a long evening that despairs the dawn ! Muse, view the turret : just beneath the skies Lonesome it stands, and fixes my sad eyes, As 'it would ask a tear. O sacred seat, Sacred to friendship ! O divine retreat¡ Here did I hope my. happy hours t' employ, And fed before -hand on the promis'd joy. When weary of the noisy town; my friend From mortal cares retiring, should ascend And lead me thither. We alone would sit, Free and secure of all intruding feet: Our thoughts should stretch their longest wings, and rise, Nor bound their sowings by the lower skies : Our tongues should aim at everlasting themes, And speak what mortals dare, of all the names Of boundless joys and glories, thrones and seats Built high in heav'n for souls. We'd trace the streets Of golden pavement, walk each blissful field, And climb and taste the fruits the spicy mountains yield : Then would we swear to keep the sacred road, And walk right upwards to that blest abode ; We'd chargeour parting spirits there to meet, There hand in hand approach th' almighty seat, And bend our heads adoring at our Maker's feet. j} Thus should we mount on bold advent'rous wings In high discourse, and dwell on hear'nly things.

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