Young, in the wars, the brave Boy fell!
Young, in the wars, the brave Boy fell!
The model and the pride of British bards!
Thus, Fortune pays the Lover bold!
He cried--with accents bold;
The Trav'ller was a fearful man--
And next his life he priz'd his gold!
In his breast
The ruddy fount of life convulsive flow'd
And his broad eyes, fix'd motionless as death,
Gaz'd vacantly aghast !
Thou pompous vision with a sounding name!
Proud Reason owns the work is Thine.
For Venus, Sappho shall a wreath prepare,
And Love be crown'd, immortal as the Nine!
O Day transcendent on the page of Fame!
Then, my mourning heart did say,
Thus Youth shall vanish, Life decay.
Five long years,
Had seen his graces wither ere his Spring
Of life was wasted.
Then rest in peace, O ever sacred shade!
Sweet picture of Life's chequer'd hour!
O, tell me, what are life's best joys?
Who would wish to feel, or learn to love?
Dreadful solace to the stormy mind!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories