Classic Poem

Bright is the gloom oh venerable shade,
Which memory casts o'er worth that cannot fade,
Such worth as thine, where once in union join'd
The saints soft spirit, and the hero's mind;
Tho' mild, yet firm — magnanimous, sincere
Tho' dignified with virtue, not severe —
Fair lib'ral candour in thy accents flow'd,
And still thy loyal heart for Britain glow'd.

True to religion and its sov'reign power
Resign'd composure mark'd thy suff'ring hour,
And faithful mem'ry trac'd the glorious scene
Where christian truth first casts its light serene;
Not faith alone, but memory cast its ray
O'er Tabor's height and all the sacred way.
Yes! thou cou'dst paint it — whilst the ardent ear
Dwelt on the awful sketch distinct and clear.

Oh honour'd Love ! — distinguish'd and rever'd,
Ev'n to the gen'rous youth thy form appear'd,
But most the widow's heart, by grief engross'd,
Must feel, alas, the valued husband lost! —
The duteous son — the gentle daughter weeps,
And friendship firm thy treasur'd mem'ry keeps,
While far beyond our praise, beyond our sighs,
To nobler realms thy sainted spirit flies,
To meet its Saviour on that blissful shore
Where storms shall reach the shatter'd bark no more,
But bright in glory 'twill immortal shine
In bliss triumphant, and with strength divine.