  ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON, BY MR. COLLINS.
I. In yonder grave a Druid lies Where slowly winds the stealing wave! The year's best sweets shall duteous rise To deck its Poet's sylvan grave! II. In yon deep bed of whisp'ring reeds His airy harp That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, May love thro' life the soothing shade. III. Then maids and youths shall linger here, And while its sounds at distance swell, Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear To hear the Woodland Pilgrim's knell. IV. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest! V. And oft as Ease and Health retire To breezy lawn, or forest deep, The friend shall view yon whitening And 'mid the varied landscape weep. VI. But Thou, who own'st that earthy bed, Ah! what will every dirge avail? Or tears, which Love and Pity shed That mourn beneath the gliding sail! VII. Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye Shall scorn thy pale shrine glimm'ring near? With him, sweet bard, may Fancy die; And Joy desert the blooming year. VIII. But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide No sedge-crown'd Sisters now attend, Now waft me from the green hill's side Whose cold turf hides the buried friend! IX. And see, the fairy valleys fade, Dun Night has veil'd the solemn view! Yet once again, dear parted shade, Meek Nature's Child, again adieu! X. The genial meads assign'd to bless The life, shall mourn thy early doom, Their hinds, and shepherd-girls shall dress With simple hands thy rural tomb. XI. Long, long, thy stone, and pointed clay Shall melt the musing Briton's eyes, O! vales, and wild woods, shall He say In yonder grave Your Druid lies! FOOTNOTES: |
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