Classic Poem

While, from the noisy croud, you lean, retir'd
In silent shades , by love of thought inspir'd;
I, vex'd by various cares , to business chain'd,
Mourn'd your lost converse, and in town remain'd:
Dark, as the midnight world, your sunshine gone,
Guideless , in sullen gloom , I wander'd on:
Passion's wild influence ebb'd , and flow'd , my mind,

As seas drive diff'rent , with the changing wind:
But to what point soe'er, my will was bound ,
In vain, I turn'd th'unresting compass round:
Doubtful, a while, the wav'ring needle hung,
Then, trembling , backward to your image sprung.

P ENSIVE , I view'd a sacred pile , of late,
Which falls , like man , to rise, in nobler state,
The Doors thrown wide, it seem'd unveil'd to lie,
And reverend ruin struck my startled eye .
Ent'ring, amidst the busy hammer's sound,
I saw time's dusty trophies scatter'd round:
Each violated pillar , stood, bedew'd:
And wept in solemn grief , a fate so rude .
From tombs by force disjoin'd, reluctant stones
Roll'd, mix'd with clouds of dust , and human bones:
From faithless walls, defac'd inscriptions fled,
And, to long night , consign'd the nameless dead:
The pews pale squares , in their whole lengthen'd row ,

Gave way, and open'd a sad scene, below!
Beauty, youth, wealth, and power, reduc'd to clay ,
Larded with bones, yet moist , unshelter'd lay:
Remnants of eyeless Skulls , with hollow stare ,
Mock'd the proud looks , which living charmers wear:
Coffins rose broke , unfaithful to their trust!
And flesh flew round me, in unjointed dust .
Scarce a short span , beneath that opening floor ,
Where kneeling charmers pray'd , the week before;
Where forms , like yours! rejoic'd th' admiring eye ,
Forms, once , like yours! in naked atoms , lie.
O! fate of failing life! O! flatt'ring dream!
What wint'ry sunshine is thy shadowy gleam!

T HUS , while I mus'd, thy soul approach'd my ear ;
Thy soft-wing'd soul! that, always, hovers near.
See'st thou, it sigh'd. — How these sad relicks lie!
And do'st thou fear, that C LELIA , thus, can die?
No — She's all mind ; and her immortal name ,
Eluding death's short reach, shall tread on fame .
Tongues , yet unthought off, C LELIA shall adorn;
And charm adoring nations — yet unborn.
Heroes , at whose resolves , the world will shake ,
Shall treat thy sex with reverence , for thy sake;
And each fair tyrant , who would Empress be,
Form but one wish — to think, and look, like thee .