Elegy On Stella(1 / 1)

elegyon“stella”
  thefollowingpoemistheworkofsomehaplesssonofthemuseswhodeservedabetterfate.thereisagreatdealof“thevoiceofcona”inhissolitary,mournfulnotesandhadthesentimentsbeenclothedinshenstone'slanguage,theywouldhavebeennodiscrediteventothatelegantpoet.—r.b.
  straitisthespotandgreenthesod
  fromwhencemysorrowsflow
  andsoundlysleepstheeverdear
  inhabitantbelow.
  pardonmytransport,gentleshade,
  whileo'ertheturfibow
  thyearthyhouseiscircumscrib'd,
  andsolitarynow.
  notonepoorstonetotelhyname,
  ormakethyvirtuesknown:
  butwhatavailstome—tothee,
  thesculptureofastone?
  i'llsitmedownuponthisturf,
  andwipetherisingtear:
  thechillblastpassesswiftlyby,
  andflitsaroundthybier.
  darkisthedwellingofthedead,
  andsadtheirhouseofrest:
  lowliesthehead,bydeath'scoldarms
  inawfulfoldembrac'd.
  isawthegrimavengerstand
  incessantbythyside
  unseenbythee,hisdeadlybreath
  thylingeringframedestroy'd.
  palegrewtherosesonthycheek,
  andwither'dwasthybloom,
  tilheslowpoisonbroughtthyyouth
  untimelytothetomb.
  thuswastedaretheranksofmen—
  youth,heah,andbeautyfall
  theruthlessruinspreadsaround,
  andoverwhelmsusall.
  beholdwhere,roundthynarrowhouse,
  thegravesunnumber'dlie
  themuitudethatsleepbelow
  existedbuttodie.
  some,withthetotteringstepsofage,
  troddownthedarksomeway
  andsome,inyouth'slamentedprime,
  liketheeweretornaway:
  yetthese,howeverhardtheirfate,
  theirnativeearthreceives
  amidtheirweepingfriendstheydied,
  andfilheirfathers'graves.
  fromthylov'dfriends,whenfirstthyheart
  wastaughtbyheav'ntoglow,
  far,farremov'd,theruthlessstroke
  surpris'dandlaidtheelow.
  atthelastlimitsofourisle,
  wash'dbythewesternwave,
  touch'dbythyface,athoughtfulbard
  sitslonelybythygrave.
  pensiveheeyes,beforehimspread
  thedeep,outstretch'dandvast
  hismourningnotesareborneaway
  alongtherapidblast.
  andwhile,amidthesilentdead
  thyhaplessfatehemourns,
  hisownlongsorrowsfreshlybleed,
  andallhisgriefreturns:
  likethee,cutoffinearlyyouth,
  andflowerofbeauty'spride,
  hisfriend,hisfirstandonlyjoy,
  hismuchlov'dstella,died.
  him,too,thesternimpulseoffate
  resistlessbearsalong
  andthesamerapidtideshallwhelm
  thepoetandthesong.
  thetearofpitywhichhesheds,
  heasksnottoreceive
  letbuthispoorremainsbelaid
  obscurelyinthegrave.
  hisgrief-wornheart,withtruestjoy,
  shallmeethewelcomeshock:
  hisairyharpshalllieunstrung,
  andsilentontherock.
  o,mydearmaid,mystella,when
  shalhissickperiodclose,
  andleadthesolitarybard
  tohisbelov'drepose?

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