On Lady Georgiana Canning's Dangerous Illness, 1804

AND thus can storms of thine reprove,
Oh, God of Peace, of Hope, and Love!
Can this be life, that so can fade?
Breath — of the vernal dews afraid!
'Twas yesterday that Stella's bloom
Dispell'd all images of gloom,
With spirits of the new-born day,
And fearless of the night's decay;
That Nature, innocent of guile,
Was crown'd with Beauty's radiant smile,
With blushes that surpass'd the rose
When first its bright vermillion glows:
When Love prepar'd the nuptial bower,
And bless'd the consecrated hour.
To-day the vision breathes no more ,
And friends the lingering dart implore:
'Tis Beauty's wreck; the billows rise,
The rudder 's lost, and Stella dies .
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