Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust, And thy soul welter in its hideous crust. Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed, The widow'd couch of fire, that thou hast spread! Then, when thou fain wouldst weary Heaven with prayer, Down to the dust!-and, as thou rott'st away, ΤΟ 1. WHEN all around grew drear and dark, And reason half withheld her ray And hope but shed a dying spark Which more misled my lonely way; 2. In that deep midnight of the mind, And that internal strife of heart, When dreading to be deem'd too kind, The weak despair-the cold depart ; 3. When fortune changed-and love fled far, And hatred's shafts flew thick and fast, Thou wert the solitary star Which rose and set not to the last. 4. Oh! blest be thine unbroken light! For ever shining sweetly nigh. 5. And when the cloud upon us came, Which strove to blacken o'er thy ray— Then purer spread its gentle flame, And dash'd the darkness all away. 6. Still may thy spirit dwell on mine, And teach it what to brave or brookThere's more in one soft word of thine, Than in the world's defied rebuke. ศ. Thou stood'st, as stands a lovely tree, That still unbroke, though gently bent, Still waves with fond fidelity Its boughs above a monument. 8. The winds might rend-the skies might pour, But there thou wert-and still wouldst be Devoted in the stormiest hour To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me. 9. But thou and thine shall know no blight, For heaven in sunshine will requite The kind and thee the most of all. 10. Then let the ties of baffled love Be broken-thine will never break; Thy heart can feel-but will not move; 11. And these, when all was lost beside, Were found and still are fix'd in thee And bearing still a breast so tried, Earth is no desert-ev'n to me. We do not curse thee, Waterloo ! Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew; There 'twas shed, but is not sunk— Rising from each gory trunk, Like the Water-spout from ocean, With that of him whose honour'd grave As then shall shake the world with wonder |