Classic Poem

Leave , Muses, leave, Ambition's sons,
And men of noisy name,
A sweeter theme fair Virtue brings,
'Tis humble Gilbert P LANE .

Child of the lowly cavern'd Kiln,
Where toil its inmates fed;
Where Labour, on the lap of Night,
Repos'd his weary head.

For him the opening world display'd
No stores of hoarded wealth,
Yet Heaven bestow'd superior boons —
Gave industry and health!

So pass'd his hours of youthful life
To manhood's vigorous days,
And that they pass'd unstain'd by vice
Is honest Gilbert'S praise.

Now Love beheld his manly frame,
And strait his arrows hurl'd,
And youthful Gilbert felt the flame
That sets on fire the world.

And, faith, the little urchin can,
In moments blest and kind,
Convince us all, in Scandal's spite,
That he's not always blind.

The God long shew'd this happy pair,
(His favourite point to prove,)
That life has but one path to bliss,
And that's — connubial love!

Now years on years unheeded pass'd,
And many a blessing came;
Gilbert , in miniature, the boys,
And each dear girl his dame.

With parent pride, the pair beheld
These treasures of the Poor;
What Heaven to pamper'd Wealth denies,
O'erflows the cottage floor!

Each brought affections yet unfelt,
A rapture all its own,
A transport he alone can taste
That fills a father's throne:

The earthly Heaven — by words in vain
In sweetest accents drest —
The hope, the care, the feeling mixt,
That fills a mother's breast.

And though at times, beneath life's ills,
Their strength united bent,
Yet Heav'n had nurtur'd in their souls
That cheering balm — Content.

The Fates at length, with envying eyes,
Saw Gilbert'S happy life,
And bade the unerring dart of Death
Deprive him of his Wife!

Misfortunes rarely come alone,
Or quickly take their flight —
So Gilbert felt a second stroke,
That robb'd him of his Sight!

The third — the fell — the fatal blow,
That bath'd his cheeks in tears,
Snatch'd from his hopes, the duteous Child,
That propp'd his lengthen'd years!

Yet, though in clouds his evening sun,
Good Gilbert'S eye of mind
Beholds the Heaven in brighter skies,
And all his soul's resign'd.

This, this is all, that various life,
Reflection's powers can reach;
That Virtue's tenets tend to give,
Or Truth itself can teach.

The Good that hail these Founts of Health,
To Gilbert'S tale attend,
They give the boon which Heav'n repays,
And every soul's his friend!

Ye Spirits blest, that float in air,
Your guardian pinions spread,
Nor let another ill assail
His aged, silver'd, head.

And when Probation's paths shall close,
By honest Gilbert trod,
O! watch him, waft him to repose —
The bosom of his God.

Gilbert ! the Sons of guilt and power,
When Empires' trifles flee,
Shall wish — but they shall wish in vain —
To change their Crowns with thee!