Short shall this half-extinguish'd spirit burn,

And soon these limbs to kindred dust return!

But not, my child, with life's precarious fire,
The immortal ties of nature shall expire;

These shall resist the triumph of decay,

When time is o'er, and worlds have pass'd away!

Cold in the dust this perish'd heart may lie,

But that which warm'd it once shall never die !

That spark unburied in its mortal frame,

With living light, eternal, and the same,

Shall beam on Joy's interminable years,

Unveil'd by darkness—unassuaged by tears!

"Yet, on the barren shore and stormy deep, One tedious watch is Conrad doom'd to weep;

But when I gain the home without a friend,

And

press the uneasy couch where none attend,

This last embrace, still cherish'd in my heart,
Shall calm the struggling spirit ere it part!
Thy darling form shall seem to hover nigh,
And hush the groan of life's last agony!

"Farewell! when strangers lift thy father's bier,

And place my nameless stone without a tear;

When each returning pledge hath told my child

That Conrad's tomb is on the desert piled;

And when the dream of troubled fancy sees

Its lonely rank grass waving in the breeze;

Who then will soothe thy grief, when mine is o'er?

Who will protect thee, helpless Ellenore?

Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide, Scorn'd by the world, to factious guilt allied? Ah! no; methinks the generous and the good Will woo thee from the shades of solitude! O'er friendless grief compassion shall awake, And smile on innocence, for Mercy's sake!"

Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be,

The tears of love were hopeless, but for thee! If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell,

If that faint murmur be the last farewell,

If Fate unite the faithful but to part,
Why is their memory sacred to the heart?
Why does the brother of my childhood seem
Restored a while in every pleasing dream?