Classic Poem

ON TAKING LEAVE OF HAMILTON ACADEMY .
The day declines; the hour is near,
Which calls affection's warmest tear;
When he who speaks must bid adieu
To lips so warm, and hearts so true;
When each dear friend shall leave this dome,
To greet once more a distant home;
When we who loved so much may sever,
Perhaps to meet no more for ever!
Comrades! another morn will rise,
Again the sun will light the skies;
Another moon shall wax and wane,
Young flow'rs once more will grace the plain;
New seasons still come rolling on;
But where! oh, where shall we be gone!
Though fancy's scenes with joy be crown'd,
And hope's bright garlands bloom around;
Yet varied as the raging sea
Remains the tide of destiny.
Oh! some will smile in pleasure's bow'r,
Perhaps with honor, wealth, and pow'r;
And some will trim the midnight lamp,
And some will seek the warrior's camp;
And some to distant lands may hie,
Away to live, unknown to die;
And some true hearts perchance will sleep
Beneath the bosom of the deep!
Yet long shall faithful memory tell
How friends have sigh'd to bid farewell;
And oft affection shall remind us
Of scenes and pleasures left behind us; —
Of sunny prospects, cooling shades,
And moonlight walks in verdant glades,
Of study's ardent meditation,
And summer-evening's recreation; —
Of former days of joy and gladness,
And parting hours of grief and sadness.
For ours has been the early lesson,
To expand the mind and form the reason;
To move the pen with ease and grace,
The rules of language to retrace;
The depth of numbers to explore,
And comprehend their boundless pow'r,
Where figures, variously design'd,
And symbols aid the wearied mind;
The earth's vast surface to compare,
By map and chart, or rolling sphere;
To learn the state of mighty nations,
With all their various relations;
Their arts and laws to ascertain,
Their numerous customs to explain:
To know, from history's pond'rous pages,
The glorious deeds of former ages;
What famous men have pass'd away,
Or empires fallen to decay;
To trace the planets as they fly,
Along the blue ethereal sky;
To find the cause of nature's changes,
As through the elements she ranges;
Why heavy bodies seek the ground,
Or lightning spreads destruction round;
To speak with force and eloquence,
And write with purity and sense;
In ancient authors to explore
The mysteries of classic lore;
In modern tongues our thoughts to frame,
And spread afar our country's fame;
'Twas ours to climb truth's lofty mountain,
And drink at learning's deepest fountain.
But " know yourselves, " your nature scan.
And study well the mind of man.
To be respected, good and wise
Beyond the pow'r of learning lies;
Virtue alone can make us great,
In this and in a future state;
On that depends our solid worth,
Whate'er our fortune, rank or birth;
A constant guide, a sure defence,
Its pleasure is its recompence.
Then may our minds, in early youth,
Imbibe the principles of truth;
May virtue's precepts guide our ways
Through life's untrodden, thorny maze;
So shall we walk the path of peace;
So shall prosperity increase;
Thus shall our days be happy here,
And pass away without a tear!
Though rude the winds of winter blow,
On endless heaps of drifted snow;
Spring quick returns, with gentle show'rs,
And vernal landscapes deck'd with flow'rs,
Till Cancer's sun pours down his rays,
And summer burns beneath his blaze.
Then Ceres leads her welcome train,
And waves the fields of golden grain,
Till winter comes, with aspect drear,
And ends the swift revolving year.
Such is the fleeting life of man;
His moments few, his days a span:
Soon as the sun of knowledge shines,
His verdant spring of life declines;
And should he pass a summer hour,
Of science, honor, wealth or pow'r,
That summer soon will pass away,
The fruits of autumn soon decay,
And wintry age, with gasping breath,
Will close the solemn scene in death!
Like bubbles on the ocean's shore,
Which rise, and straight are seen no more;
Or like the track upon the sand,
When whirlwinds blow on Guinea's strand;
His name is blotted from the earth,
Nor fame prevails, nor noble birth;
His spirit hastens to the bourne,
From which no traveller can return!
But there's a blissful world above,
The mansion of a Saviour's love,
Where care and sorrow ever cease,
And happy spirits rest in peace.
And there's a pow'r that aids the soul
To gain that high and shining goal;
And there's a book that points the way
To that fair realm of endless day;
Make this your guide, and yours shall be
The pleasures of eternity!