Billeder på siden
PDF
ePub

WRITTEN IN THE FIRST PAGE OF A COPY OF COWPER'S POEMS

PRESENTED TO

MARY, VISCOUNTESS BARNARD,

ON HER MARRIAGE.

LADY! were Cowper's spirit here,
That sainted spirit sure would breathe
A fervent wish, a vow sincere,

And twine them with a bridal wreath.

He would not of thy goodness tell,
For purest virtue courts the shade;

He would not on thy features dwell,

For beauty's short-lived flower must fade.

No, Lady! cease thy modest fears!

More pleased his artless muse would feel, To consecrate the filial tears

Which from thy trembling eyelids steal;

[graphic]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

WRITTEN IN THE FIRST PAGE OF A COPY OF COWPER'S POEMS

FRESENIED TO

MARY, VISCOUNTESS BARNARD,

ON HER MARRIAGE.

LADY! were Cowper's spirit here,
That sainted spirit sure would breathe

A fervent wish, a vow sincere,

And twine them with a bridal wreath.

He would not of thy goodness tell,
For purest virtue courts the shade;

He would not on thy features dwell,
For beauty's short-lived flower must fade.

No, Lady! cease thy modest fears!

More pleased his artless muse would feel, To consecrate the filial tears

Which from thy trembling eyelids steal;

To cherish, on this joyful day,

The glistening tribute of thy heart, For years of mild, paternal sway,

For cares that made thee what thou art.

Then would he pray that white-robed truth,
And purest peace, and joy serene,

Blest guardians of thy vernal youth,

Might guide thee through life's varied scene.

But Cowper lives in realms of light,
Where angel spirits ceaseless sing:
Far other hands this wreath unite,

Far other hands this offering bring.

But, Lady, wilt thou kindly deign

('T is all the unpractised muse can give)

Accept this rudely warbled strain,

And let it, bound with Cowper's, live?

These volumes too, I fondly ween,

May for their author's sake be prized, When thine own hearth shall match the scene By Weston's bard immortalized.

For sure thou lovest domestic joys,
And hours of intimate delight,

And days retired from vulgar noise,

And converse bland that cheats the night.

Such joys be thine-be his; and still,
In heart united, as in hand,
Blessing and blest, let each fulfil

The glorious task your place demands.

Lights of the world, let each dispense
New lustre through your ample sphere;
And very late be summoned hence,

To shine through heaven's eternal year!

THE BISHOP OF LIMERICK.

« ForrigeFortsæt »