Classic Poem

Here, drooping by thy lifeless Side,
Pensive, retir'd, with Grief o'er-born,
Lovely in Death! my darling Pride ,
Thee the long weeping Muse shall mourn.

Farewel! — — the dearest in my Heart ,
Whom neither Pray'rs nor Tears cou'd save.
'Tis Death's redoubled Pain to part,
And leave such Beauties with the Grave.

Strange was thy Knowledge, wond'rous Child!
Active and bright its early Ray;
Thy Temper grateful, winning, mild,
And Love rul'd all thy smiling Day.

Ah me! what once such Sweetness grac'd,
Those melting Smiles, that Angel Form,
Corruption's greedy Train shall waste,
The mould'ring Dust , the feasting Worm .

Those Lips whose gentle Prattling bless'd,
That Hand whose tender Touch cou'd charm,
No more with Kisses shall be prest,
No more my fondling Bosom warm. — — —

Where thy lov'd Sight did once rejoice,
Now (forc'd thy Absence to sustain)
My Ear waits list'ning for thy Voice,
I turn, and seek thy Glimpse in vain.

By Night my Eyes the Search repeat;
Sad to the glitt'ring Skies they roll,
Tell me (I sigh) thy happy Seat!
Say, where resides thy blissful Soul?

Yet — — with bright Hopes in distant View,
My Faith, instructed by the Rod,
Bids the false Joys of Earth adieu,
And bows before the sov'reign God.

Happy for thee so soon, so well,
To 'scape the Woes that Life annoy:
To part, with few sad Tales to tell,
With no black Guilt to damp the Joy.

Till the last Hour of general Doom,
Kind Angel! guard my precious Trust;
Lock the close Chambers of his Tomb,
And timely wake the slumb'ring Dust —

That Day shall bring Thee to my Sight,
Whose Presence will my Joys restore. — —
Fill me, thou Thought of vast Delight!
When Death shall ne'er divide us more.