poems.
47
Behold that aged form in weakness bent;
She waits her daughter to the village sent;
She comes, but bears no life-sustaining food,—
The broken branches of the dark pine-wood
Alone are theirs! She, weeping, lights the fire,
And sees her mother by the flame expire!
She waits her daughter to the village sent;
She comes, but bears no life-sustaining food,—
The broken branches of the dark pine-wood
Alone are theirs! She, weeping, lights the fire,
And sees her mother by the flame expire!
Now tell me, ye who sport away awhile
So gaily in the world's uncertain smile,
Would life be not made richer if ye knew
Your wealth from sorrow had saved e'en a few?
Oh, sweeter far the kindness which bestows
The needful help, than all that avarice knows.
When call'd at death to leave this happy scene,
Thou wilt remember what the past hath been;
And at the judgment 'twill not be forgot,
Didst save the hungry or supply them not?
So gaily in the world's uncertain smile,
Would life be not made richer if ye knew
Your wealth from sorrow had saved e'en a few?
Oh, sweeter far the kindness which bestows
The needful help, than all that avarice knows.
When call'd at death to leave this happy scene,
Thou wilt remember what the past hath been;
And at the judgment 'twill not be forgot,
Didst save the hungry or supply them not?
The gloomy shades around the church are fled,
And softest lustre o'er the altar's shed;
There stands a maiden by a faithful lover:
They now depart, the spoken vows are over.
Gay sounds proceed from yonder lighted hall;
Soft strains of music from its casements fall;
Light feet are dancing to the rapid measure,
And ev'ry eye and ev'ry voice speaks pleasure.
And softest lustre o'er the altar's shed;
There stands a maiden by a faithful lover:
They now depart, the spoken vows are over.
Gay sounds proceed from yonder lighted hall;
Soft strains of music from its casements fall;
Light feet are dancing to the rapid measure,
And ev'ry eye and ev'ry voice speaks pleasure.
