Weak is the sophistry, and vain the art That whispers patience to the mind's despair! That bids reflection bathe the wounds of care, While Hope, with pleasing phantoms, soothes their smart; For memory still, reluctant to depart From the dear spot, once rich in prospects fair, Bids the fond soul enamored linger there, And its least charm is grateful to the heart! He never loved, who could not muse and sigh, Spangling the sacred turf with frequent tears, Where the small rivulet, that ripples by, Recalls the scenes of past and happier years, When, on its banks he watched the speaking eye, And one sweet smile o'erpaid an age of fears! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CITY IN THE SEA by EDGAR ALLAN POE IN MEMORY OF A FRIEND by GEORGE W. CASE ON BUYING A MAINE FARM by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH TO A FAVOURITE PONY by ELIZA COOK ON KINGSTON BRIDGE by ELLEN MACKAY HUTCHINSON CORTISSOZ AN ANSWER TO A COPY OF VERSES SENT ME TO JERSEY by ABRAHAM COWLEY OLNEY HYMNS: 28. JESUS HASTENING TO SUFFER by WILLIAM COWPER |