Classic Poem

AND WHICH I ATTENDED AS CHIEF MOURNER .

Y ES , I have met the awful scene,
With Resignation's eye serene;
Could live — to see in earth descend
My heart's endear'd, inspiring Friend:
Love , that a Saint had left behind,
With Prayer was temper'd, and refin'd.
But I have promis'd, and have sworn ,
In Sorrow's noblest form to mourn,
Secluded from the gazing eye,
And where intruders cannot spy;
To mourn, as the survivor shou'd ,
At the departure of the good:
Not in those " trappings " of Despair,
The sable garb, and scatter'd hair;
But in the tear, " which passeth show , "
Affliction's hallow'd use to know;
Lamenting — not, that Pain 's at rest,
And the departed Spirit blest;
But that, when Heaven its inmate calls,
The model breaks — the mirrour falls.