The Vanity of Human Wishes

An Elegy , occasioned by the untimely D EATH of a S COTS P OET .

BY MR JOHN TAIT .

D ARK was the night—and silence reign'd o'er all;
 No mirthful sounds urg'd on the ling'ring hour:
The sheeted ghost stalk'd ghastly thro' the hall,
 And ev'ry breast confess'd chill horror's pow'r:

Slumb'ring I lay: I mus'd on human hopes:
 “Vain, vain, I cry'd, are all the hopes we form;
“When winter comes, the sweetest flow'ret drops,
 “And oaks themselves must bend before the storm.”

While thus I spake, a voice assail'd my ear,
 'Twas sad—'twas slow—it fill'd my mind with dread!
“Forbear, it cry'd—thy moral lays forbear,
 “Or change the strain, for F ERGUSSON is dead!

“Have we not seen him sporting on these plains?
 “Have we not heard him strike the Muse's lyre?
“Have we not felt the magic of his strains,
 “Which often glow'd with fancy's warmest fire?

“Have we not hop'd these strains would long be heard?
 “Have we not told how oft they touch'd the soul?
“And has not Scotia said, her youthful B ARD
 “Might spread her fame ev'n to the distant pole?

“But vain, alas! are all the hopes we rais'd;
 “Death strikes the blow—they sink—their reign is o'er;
“And these sweet songs, which we so oft have prais'd—
 “These mirthful strains shall now be heard no more.

“This, this proclaims how vain are all the joys
 “Which we so ardently wish to attain;
“Since ruthless fate so oft, so soon destroys
 “The high-born hopes ev'n of the Muses' train.”

I heard no more—The cock, with clarion shrill,
 Loudly proclaim'd th' approach of morning near—
The voice was gone—but yet I heard it still—
 For every note was echo'd back by fear.

“Perhaps, I cried, ere yonder rising sun
 “Shall sink his glories in the western wave;
“Perhaps ere then my race too may be run,
 “And I myself laid in the silent grave.

“Oft then, O mortals! oft this dreadful truth
 “Should be proclaim'd—for fate is in the sound,
“That genius, learning, health and vigorous youth,
 “May, in one day, in death's cold chains be bound.”
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