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Indulgent MEMORY wakes, and, lo, they live!
To soothe and sweeten all the cares we know ;
What soften'd views thy magic glass reveals,
As when in ocean sinks the orb of day,
The School's lone porch, with reverend mosses grey, Just tells the pensive pilgrim where it lay. Mute is the bell that rung at peep of dawn, Quickening my truant feet across the lawn; Unheard the shout that rent the noontide air, 'When the slow dial gave a pause to care. Up springs, at every step, to claim a tear, Some little friendship, form'd and cherish'd here! .. 16
And not the lightest leaf, but trembling teems
Down by yon hazel copse, at evening, blaz'd
Whose dark eyes flash'd thro' locks of blackest shade,
Ah, then, what honest triumph flush'd my breast! This truth once know....To bless is to be blest!! We led the bending beggar on his way; (Bare were his feet, his tresses silver-grey)
Sooth'd the keen pangs his aged spirit felt,
But hark! through those old firs, with sullen swell The church-clock strikes! ye tender scenes, farewel! It calls me hence, beneath their shade, to trace The few fond lines that Time may soon efface.
On yon grey stone, that fronts the chancel-door, Worn smooth by busy feet, now seen no more, Each eve we shot the marble thro' the ring, When the heart danc'd, and life was in its spring; Alas! unconscious of the kindred earth, That faintly echoed to the voice of mirth.
The glow-worm loves her emerald light to shed,
Hush, ye fond flutterings, hush! while here alone I search the records of each mouldering stone. Guides of my life! Instructors of my youtl: ! Who first unveil'd the hallow'd form of Truth; Whose every word enlighten'd and endear'd; In age belov'd, in poverty rever'd;
In Friendship's silent register ye live,
Nor ask the vain memorial Art can give,
But when the sons of peace and pleasure sleep,
Ethereal power! whose smile, at noon of night, Recals the far-fled spirit of delight;
Instils that musing melancholy mood,
Which charms the wise, and elevates the good; Blest MEMORY, hail! Oh, grant the grateful muse, Her pencil dipt in Nature's living hues,
pass the clouds that round thy empire roll, And trace its airy precincts in the soul.
Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain.
Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise!
Survey the globe, each ruder realm explore; From Reason's faintest ray to Newton soar. What different spheres to human bliss assign'd! What slow gradations in the scale of mind! Yet mark in each these mystic wonders wrought; Oh mark the sleepless energies of thought!
The adventurous boy, that asks his little share, And hies from home, with many a gossip's prayer,