All ruin'd and wild is their roofless abode, Yet wandering, I found on my ruinous walk, One rose of the wilderness left on its stalk, Like a brotherless hermit, the last of its race, From each wandering sun-beam, a lonely embrace; place, Where the flower of my forefathers grew. Sweet bud of the wilderness! emblem of all That remains in this desolate heart! The fabric of bliss to its centre may fall; But patience shall never depart! Though the wilds of enchantment, all vernal and bright, In the days of delusion by fancy combin❜d, With the vanishing phantoms of love and delight, Abandon my soul like a dream of the night, And leave but a desart behind. Be hushed, my dark spirit! for wisdom condemns When the faint and the feeble deplore; Be strong as the rock of the ocean that stems Through the perils of chance, and the scowl of dis dain, May thy front be unaltered, thy courage elate! Yea! even the name I have worshipped in vain Shall awake not the sigh of remembrance again; To bear is to conquer our fate. |