Classic Poem

Receive the tribute due, beloved youth!
A Friend—a Sister's heartfelt tears receive;
Thy soul was all benevolence and truth,
And fill'd with Virtues others scarce conceive.

How, with that graceful unaffected air,
Adorn'd with soft complacency and ease;
How wou'dst thou charm—with what assiduous care
The old, the young—the rough, the gentle please!

Alas! no more—for ever—ever torn,
From ev'ry tender wish and hope remov'd;
Night overtook thee in thy early morn—
In vain admir'd, esteem'd, and most belov'd!

Oh! we have lost thee—lost thee—ev'n deny'd
The dismal comfort of a last farewell!
And thou—no one to sorrow by thy side,
Nor weep to hear thy melancholy knell.

Yes! tho no Parent—no Relation near,
To melt with grief upon the dreadful spot,
Sure some kind eye supply'd a gen'rous tear;
For who ere knew thee and yet lov'd thee not?

Tho' in a distant, and a foreign land,
Some virtuous heart did sure to grief incline;
Some speechless friend did press thy clay cold hand,
And give thee tears, tho' not such tears as mine.

Oh! can I bear to think upon those hours
Of friendly converse we've together known?
Acute remembrance! with thy active pow'rs,
O leave a heart that is not form'd of stone.

Call not to fancy the engaging youth;
Call not his presence to the mental eye!
Ah! point not newly the distracting truth—
Ah! keen remembrance, with M ARCELLUS die!

Yet must I think, tho' anguish fill my breast,
Yet must I think, for ever think on thee;
How good thou wert, with what perfections blest—
How kind, how just, how generous and free!

Yes!—I'll indulge the luxury of woe;
Fancy thy darling image shall retain—
Fancy again that pleasing form shall shew,
And give a Brother to my heart again!

I'll run o'er ev'ry grace that did prevail,
The noble feelings that once warm'd thy breast;
And when the feeble pow'rs of language fail,
Let tears and moving silence speak the rest.