Part 17 (2/2)

Thine eyelash on my cheek doth play-- 'Tis Mary's hand upon my brow!

But let me check this tender lay Which none may hear but she and thou!

Like the still hive at quiet midnight humming, Murmur it to yourselves, ye two beloved women!

?1807.

SONNET

TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT WHEN THE NURSE FIRST PRESENTED MY INFANT TO ME

Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first I scanned that face of feeble infancy: For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst All I had been, and all my child might be!

But when I saw it on its mother's arm, And hanging at her bosom (she the while Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile) Then I was thrilled and melted, and most warm Impressed a father's kiss: and all beguiled Of dark remembrance and presageful fear, I seemed to see an angel-form appear-- 'Twas even thine, beloved woman mild!

So for the mother's sake the child was dear, And dearer was the mother for the child.

1796.

LINES TO W. LINLEY, ESQ.

WHILE HE SANG A SONG TO PURCELL'S MUSIC

While my young cheek retains its healthful hues, And I have many friends who hold me dear, Linley! methinks, I would not often hear Such melodies as thine, lest I should lose All memory of the wrongs and sore distress For which my miserable brethren weep!

But should uncomforted misfortunes steep My daily bread in tears and bitterness; And if at death's dread moment I should lie With no beloved face at my bed-side, To fix the last glance of my closing eye, Methinks such strains, breathed by my angel-guide, Would make me pa.s.s the cup of anguish by, Mix with the blest, nor know that I had died!

1797.

DOMESTIC PEACE

[FROM THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE, ACT I.]

Tell me, on what holy ground May Domestic Peace be found?

Halcyon daughter of the skies, Far on fearful wings she flies, From the pomp of Sceptered State, From the Rebel's noisy hate.

In a cottaged vale She dwells, Listening to the Sabbath bells!

Still around her steps are seen Spotless Honour's meeker mien, Love, the sire of pleasing fears, Sorrow smiling through her tears, And conscious of the past employ Memory, bosom-spring of joy.

1794.

SONG

SUNG BY GLYCINE IN _ZAPOLYA_, ACT II. SCENE 2.

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