Part 25 (1/2)

EPITAPH ON AN INFANT

Its balmy lips the infant blest Relaxing from its mother's breast, How sweet it heaves the happy sigh Of innocent satiety!

And such my infant's latest sigh!

Oh tell, rude stone! the pa.s.ser by, That here the pretty babe doth lie, Death sang to sleep with Lullaby.

1799.

AN ODE TO THE RAIN

COMPOSED BEFORE DAYLIGHT, ON THE MORNING APPOINTED FOR THE DEPARTURE OF A VERY WORTHY, BUT NOT VERY PLEASANT VISITOR, WHOM IT WAS FEARED THE RAIN MIGHT DETAIN.

I

I know it is dark; and though I have lain, Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain, I have not once open'd the lids of my eyes, But I lie in the dark, as a blind man lies.

O Rain! that I lie listening to, You're but a doleful sound at best: I owe you little thanks,'tis true, For breaking thus my needful rest!

Yet if, as soon as it is light, O Rain! you will but take your flight, I'll neither rail, nor malice keep, Though sick and sore for want of sleep.

But only now, for this one day, Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

II

O Rain! with your dull two-fold sound, The clash hard by, and the murmur all round!

You know, if you know aught, that we, Both night and day, but ill agree: For days and months, and almost years, Have limp'd on through this vale of tears, Since body of mine, and rainy weather, Have lived on easy terms together.

Yet if, as soon as it is light, O Rain! you will but take your flight, Though you should come again to-morrow, And bring with you both pain and sorrow; Though stomach should sicken and knees should swell-- I'll nothing speak of you but well.

But only now for this one day, Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

III

Dear Rain! I ne'er refused to say You're a good creature in your way; Nay, I could write a book myself, Would fit a parson's lower shelf, Showing how very good you are. -- What then? sometimes it must be fair!

And if sometimes, why not to-day?

Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

IV

Dear Rain! if I've been cold and shy, Take no offence! I'll tell you why.

A dear old Friend e'en now is here, And with him came my sister dear; After long absence now first met, Long months by pain and grief beset-- We three dear friends! in truth, we groan Impatiently to be alone.

We three, you mark! and not one more!

The strong wish makes my spirit sore.

We have so much to talk about, So many sad things to let out; So many tears in our eye-corners, Sitting like little Jacky Homers-- In short, as soon as it is day, Do go, dear Rain! do go away!

V

And this I'll swear to you, dear Rain!