Elegy

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF MR. GILL, WHO WAS DROWNED IN THE RIVER TRENT, WHILE BATHING, 9TH AUGUST, 1802.

He sunk, the impetuous river roll'd along, The sullen wave betray'd his dying breath; And rising sad the rustling sedge among, The gale of evening touch'd the cords of death.

Nymph of the Trent! why didst thou not appear To snatch the victim from thy felon wave! Alas! too late thou camest to embalm his bier, And deck with waterflags his early grave.

Triumphant, riding o'er its tumid prey, Rolls the red stream in sanguinary pride; While anxious crowds, in vain, expectant stay, And ask the swoln corse from the murdering tide.

The stealing tear-drop stagnates in the eye, The sudden sigh by friendship's bosom proved, I mark them rise--I mark the general sigh! Unhappy youth! and wert thou so beloved?

On thee, as lone I trace the Trent's green brink, When the dim twilight slumbers on the glade; On thee my thoughts shall dwell, nor Fancy shrink To hold mysterious converse with thy shade.

Of thee, as early, I, with vagrant feet, Hail the gray-sandal'd morn in Colwick's vale, Of thee my sylvan reed shall warble sweet, And wild-wood echoes shall repeat the tale.

And, oh! ye nymphs of Pæon! who preside O'er running rill and salutary stream. Guard ye in future well the halcyon tide From the rude death-shriek and the dying scream.

INSCRIPTION FOR A MONUMENT TO THE MEMORY OF COWPER.

Reader! if with no vulgar sympathy Thou view'st the wreck of genius and of worth, Stay thou thy footsteps near this hallow'd spot. Here Cowper rests. Although renown have made His name familiar to thine ear, this stone May tell thee that his virtues were above The common portion:--that the voice, now hush'd In death, was once serenely querulous With pity's tones, and in the ear of woe Spake music. Now, forgetful, at thy feet, His tired head presses on its last long rest, Still tenant of the tomb;--and on the cheek, Once warm with animation's lambent flush, Sits the pale image of unmark'd decay. Yet mourn not. He had chosen the better part; And, these sad garments of Mortality Put off, we trust, that to a happier land He went a light and gladsome passenger. Sigh'st thou for honours, reader? Call to mind That glory's voice is impotent to pierce The silence of the tomb! but virtue blooms Even on the wreck of life, and mounts the skies. So gird thy loins with lowliness, and walk With Cowper on the pilgrimage of Christ.