46
poems.
A SKETCH OF LIFE.
While evening spreads her gentle shades around,
And skies with glowing lights are brilliant crown'd;
While sighing winds sing low o'er yonder plain,
And lighter music mingles with the strain;
While all above is silent, lovely, fair,
And all below is noisy mirth or care;
While some are weeping o'er afflictions sent,
And more are gay, on pleasure's schemes intent,—
Blest with sweet peace, in unpretending state,
Alone, I contemplate man's varied fate.
And skies with glowing lights are brilliant crown'd;
While sighing winds sing low o'er yonder plain,
And lighter music mingles with the strain;
While all above is silent, lovely, fair,
And all below is noisy mirth or care;
While some are weeping o'er afflictions sent,
And more are gay, on pleasure's schemes intent,—
Blest with sweet peace, in unpretending state,
Alone, I contemplate man's varied fate.
This is an hour when day withdraws her beams,
And chilling frosts arrest the summer streams;
W7hen wither'd leaves float through the mourning air.
And honest labour rests, or bends in pray'r.
Far from the throng whose lamp burns never low,[1]
The lonely mother bears her night of woe;
No quivering light may give to her fond gaze
The features of the dying; but she prays.
Oh, poverty, a wretched fate is thine!
The soul's deep sorrows with all want combine.
Is it not so? where poverty is found
The sigh of anguish ever doth resound?
And chilling frosts arrest the summer streams;
W7hen wither'd leaves float through the mourning air.
And honest labour rests, or bends in pray'r.
Far from the throng whose lamp burns never low,[1]
The lonely mother bears her night of woe;
No quivering light may give to her fond gaze
The features of the dying; but she prays.
Oh, poverty, a wretched fate is thine!
The soul's deep sorrows with all want combine.
Is it not so? where poverty is found
The sigh of anguish ever doth resound?
- ↑ An allusion to "The Watcher."
