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Some farewell words; and, with those words, a prayer
That, from his dying hand, she would accept,
Of his possessions, that which most he prized;
A Book, upon the surface of whose leaves
Some chosen plants, disposed with nicest care,
In undecaying beauty were preserved.
Mute register, to him, of time and place,
And various fluctuations in the breast;
To her, a monument of faithful Love
Conquered, and in tranquillity retained!
Close to his destined habitation, lies
One whose Endeavours did at length achieve
A victory less worthy of regard,
Though marvellous in its kind. A Place exists
High in these mountains, that allured a Band
Of keen Adventurers to unite their pains,
In search of treasure there by Nature formed,
And there concealed: but they who tried were foiled,
And all desisted, all, save he alone;
Who taking counsel of his own clear thoughts,
And trusting only to his own weak hands,
Urged unremittingly the stubborn work,
