A Bath Urn from its Pedestal
ON THE FALL OF A BATH URN FROM ITS PEDESTAL,
All that breathes , and all that lives ,
Are the Heralds of decay:
Art is eloquent, and gives
Hints of death, as well as they:
From its pedestal is torn,
Broke into a mouldering heap,
Sculpture, that a mass had borne,
Like the rock, that stems the deep.
Vain is now its Grecian form;
Vain the chisel's flowing art;
Such is Nature's pelting storm;
Youth must fly — and Beauty part.
These, alone, were Man to lose,
He'd lament, but he'd survive;
In expanded hopes and views,
To enjoyment, yet alive.
But the loss he cannot bear
Is of Nature's filial prize;
And the tears are of Despair ,
When the Angel-mother dies.
All that breathes , and all that lives ,
Are the Heralds of decay:
Art is eloquent, and gives
Hints of death, as well as they:
From its pedestal is torn,
Broke into a mouldering heap,
Sculpture, that a mass had borne,
Like the rock, that stems the deep.
Vain is now its Grecian form;
Vain the chisel's flowing art;
Such is Nature's pelting storm;
Youth must fly — and Beauty part.
These, alone, were Man to lose,
He'd lament, but he'd survive;
In expanded hopes and views,
To enjoyment, yet alive.
But the loss he cannot bear
Is of Nature's filial prize;
And the tears are of Despair ,
When the Angel-mother dies.
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