Still may thy spirit dwell on mine, And teach it what to brave or brookThere's more in one soft word of thine, Than in the world's defied rebuke. Thou stood'st, as stands a lovely tree, Its boughs above a monument. The winds might rend-the skies might pour, But there thou wert-and still would'st be Devoted in the stormiest hour To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me. But thou and thine shall know no blight, For heaven in sunshine will requite Then let the ties of baffled love Be broken-thine will never break; Thy heart can feel-but will not move; Thy soul, though soft, will never shake. And these, when all was lost beside, Earth is no desart-cv'n to me. TO TIME. TIME! on whose arbitrary wing For now I bear the weight alone, I would not one fond heart should share Retards, but never counts the hour. To prove thee-not Eternity. That beam hath sunk, and now thou art A blank; a thing to count and curse Through each dull tedious trifling part, Which we shall sleep too sound to heed: WINDSOR POETICS. Lines composed on the occasion of H. R. H. the Prince Regent being seen standing betwixt the coffins of Henri VIII and Charles I, in the royal vault at Windsor. FAMED for contemptuous breach of sacred ties, 1813. |