Poems (1828) | Page 8

hospitality's enchanting smile,
And chased away a little age of woe--

Gratefully--I dedicate these tuneful lays!
July, 1826.
[Footnote 1: My friend, Captain Samuel Brown, of the Royal Navy,
whose inventions and improvements of the iron chain cable, and
various others connected with the naval service, deserve the gratitude
of his country, independent of the admirable Chain-Pier at Brighton, a
Suspension Bridge over the Tweed, Pier at Newhaven, Bridge at
Heckham, the iron work for Hammersmith Suspension Bridge,
and
other successful undertakings.]
SONNET.
MORNING.

Light as the breeze that hails the infant morn
The Milkmaid trips, as
o'er her arm she slings
Her cleanly pail, some fav'rite lay she sings

As sweetly wild and cheerful as the horn.
O! happy girl I may never
faithless love,
Or fancied splendour, lead thy steps astray;
No cares
becloud the sunshine of thy day,
Nor want e'er urge thee from thy cot
to rove.
What though thy station dooms thee to be poor,
And by the
hard-earn'd morsel thou art fed;
Yet sweet content bedecks thy lowly
bed,
And health and peace sit smiling at thy door:
Of these
possess'd--thou hast a gracious meed,
Which Heaven's high wisdom
gives, to make thee rich indeed!
ON THE DEATH OF DR. ABEL,[1]
Physician and Naturalist to Lord Amherst, Governor General of India,
who died at Cawnpoor, 24th of November, 1826.
Another awful warning voice of death
To human dignity, and human
pride;
'Tis sad, to mark how short the longest life--
How brief was
thine! Thy day is done,
And all its complicated hopes and fears
Lie
buried, ABEL! in an early grave.
The unavailing tear for thee shall
flow,
And love and friendship faithful record keep
Of all thy varied
worth, thy anxious strife
For fame and years, now gone for ever!

Yet o'er thy tomb science and learning
Bend in mute regret, and truth
proclaims
Thy just inheritance an honour'd name!
Lamented most by those who knew thee best,
Accept this humble,
tributary lay,
From one, who in thy boyhood and thy prime
Had
shared thy friendship, and had fondly hoped
When last we parted,
many years were thine
And joys in store--that thy elastic mind

Might long have gladden'd life's monotony.
Thine was a princely
heart, a joyous soul,
The charm of reason, and the sprightly wit

Which kept dull letter'd ignorance in awe,
Shook the pretender on his
tinsel throne,
And claim'd the glorious dignity of mind!

Alas! that in thy prime, when time began
To make thee nearly all the
World could wish,
The spoiler Death should unrelenting come
(As
though in envy of thy wondrous skill)
And stop the fountain of a
noble heart.
Rest, anxious spirit! from life's feverish dream,
From all its sad
realities and cares:
Be this thy Epitaph, thy honour'd boast--
Thine
was the fame, which thine own mind achieved!
[Footnote 1: Dr. Abel was greatly distinguished in his profession for his
love of it, and for the ardour of his pursuits in useful knowledge. --He
published many ingenious Papers on Medical Science and Natural
History. His account of the Embassy to China, under Lord Amherst,
has been generally admired. He practised with increasing respect as a
Physician, at Brighton, previous to his leaving England for India; and
meditated (as the Author of this article knows) one or two works,
which, from the activity of his mind, may yet be anticipated. Dr. Abel
was a native of Bungay, in Suffolk (where his father was a banker), and
it is supposed was about 35 years of age when he died. It is worthy of
remark, that the present eminent and estimable Dr. Gooch, Librarian to
His Majesty, and Dr. Abel, should both have been pupils of Mr. Borrett,
Surgeon, of Yarmouth.]
SONNET.
NIGHT.
Now when dun Night her shadowy veil has spread,
See want and
infamy, as forth they come,
Lead their wan daughter from her
branded home,
To woo the stranger for unhallow'd bread.
Poor
outcast! o'er thy sickly-tinted cheek
And half-clad form, what havoc
want hath made;
And the sweet lustre of thine eye doth fade,
And
all thy soul's sad sorrow seems to speak.
O! miserable state!
compell'd to wear
The wooing smile, as on thy aching breast
Some
wretch reclines, who feeling ne'er possess'd;
Thy poor heart bursting
with the stifled tear!
Oh! GOD OF MERCY! bid her woes subside,


And be to her a friend, who hath no friend beside.
CONSTANCY.
TO----.
Dearest love! when thy God shall recall thee,
Be this record inscribed
on thy tomb:
Truth, and gratitude, well may applaud thee,
And all
thy past virtues relume.
It shall tell--to thy sex's proud honour,
Of sufferings and trials severe,

While still, through protracted affliction,
Not a murmur escaped;
but the tear
Of resignment to Heaven's high dictates,
'Twas thine, like a martyr, to
shed:
That heart--all affection for others--
For thyself,
uncomplainingly, bled.
Midst the storms, which misfortune had gather'd,
What an angel thou
wert unto me;
In that hour, when all friendship seem'd sever'd,

Thou didst bloom like the ever-green tree!
All was gloom; and in vain had I striven,
For hope ceased a ray to
impart;
When thou cam'st, like a meteor from heaven,
And gave
peace to my desolate heart!
EPISTLE