Lines

[For a Monument Commemorating the Sudden Death by Drowning of a Family, of Four Sons and Two Daughters]

(1831)

Tears are for lighter griefs. Man weeps the doom, That seals a single victim to the tomb. But when Death riots--when, with whelming sway, Destruction sweeps a family away; When infancy and youth, a huddled mass, All in an instant to oblivion pass, And parents' hopes are crush'd; what lamentation Can reach the depth of such a desolation? Look upward, Feeble Ones! look up and trust, That HE who lays their mortal frame in dust, Still hath the immortal spirit in his keeping-- In Jesus' sight they are not dead but sleeping.

TO C. ADERS, ESQ.

On his Collection of Paintings by the old German Masters

(1831)

Friendliest of men, ADERS, I never come Within the precincts of this sacred Room, But I am struck with a religious fear, Which says "Let no profane eye enter here." With imagery from Heav'n the walls are clothed, Making the things of Time seem vile and loathed. Spare Saints, whose bodies seem sustain'd by Love, With Martyrs old in meek procession move. Here kneels a weeping Magdalen, less bright To human sense for her blurr'd cheeks; in sight Of eyes, new-touch'd by Heav'n, more winning fair Than when her beauty was her only care. A Hermit here strange mysteries doth unlock In desart sole, his knees worn by the rock. There Angel harps are sounding, while below Palm-bearing Virgins in white order go. Madonnas, varied with so chaste design, While all are different, each seems genuine, And hers the only Jesus: hard outline, And rigid form, by DURER'S hand subdued To matchless grace, and sacro-sanctitude; DURER, who makes thy slighted Germany Vie with the praise of paint-proud Italy.

Whoever enter'st here, no more persume To name a Parlour, or a Drawing Room; But, bending lowly to each holy Story, Make this thy Chapel, and thine Oratory.