Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last, Shall foothe his aching heart for all the past With many a smile my folitude repay, And chafe the world's ungenerous fcorn away. 235 "And fay, when fummon'd from the world and thee, I lay my head beneath the willow tree; Wilt thou, fweet mourner! at my stone appear, And foothe my parted spirit ling'ring near? Muse on the last farewell I leave behind, Breathe a deep figh to winds that murmur low, And think on all my love, and all my woe?" 240 245 How fondly looks admiring Hope the while, At every artlefs tear, and every fmile! How glows the joyous parent to descry Bij 263 Where is the troubled heart confign'd to share Tumultuous toils, or folitary care, Unbleft by vifionary thoughts that stray To count the joys of Fortune's better day! The dim-ey'd tenant of the dungeon gloom, And virtue triumphs o'er remember'd woe. Chide not his peace, proud Reafon! nor destroy The fhadowy forms of uncreated joy, That urge the lingering tide of life, and pour Spontaneous flumber on his midnight hour. 265 270 275 |