Classic Poem

Ah gentle Shade the muse of pity pours
For thy hard fate the unavailing tear
And fondly would have soothd thy dying hours
Soft as a Mother or a Sister dear
But dire disease with vile malignant breath
Stole unsuspected thro each vital part
And hid in langour the pale face of death
Till he had broke the nerves about the heart
What tho by Strangers his lov'd coarse was born
Without the pompous train of gay parade
What tho no plumes were nodding o'er his urn
And friendship vainly strove to lend its aid
Yet on his grave shall sweet returning spring
Deck the green sod with ever varied bloom
While youths and gentlest maids shall hither bring
Unfading garlands to adorn his tomb
Youth pleasure fortune all sweet youth were thine
And thine the blandishments of social tyes
And love and friendship in the train combine
To give a relish to lifes highest Joys
But vain the promises of earthly bliss
And vain is love and friendships power to save
The bubble burst mans glory ends in this
And terminates its lustre in the grave.—