Classic Poem

BY THE SAME .

The neighb'ring clock proclaims the midnight hour,
And darkness spreads her dismal shades around;
Now silence reigns amid the feather'd choir,
And not a foot is heard to tread the ground.

It is the memory of a much-lov'd friend,
ThaTheaves my bosom with a tender sigh;
Where sorrows upon sorrows still extend,
And claim the constant tribute from my eye.

Each heart, by grief or penury oppress'd,
Her bounteous hand was ready to relieve;
To soothe the pang in pale affliction's breast,
And, like a friend, the stranger to receive.

No guilty thoughts her parting soul o'erpower,
No rival passions in contending strife;
But all was peaceful aTher latest hour,
As when she first saluted infant life.