Poetry

Poetry

"There comes a voice that awakes my soul. It
is the voice of years that are gone, they roll
before me with all their deeds." - OSSIAN.

A voice of youth, of rosy youth,
I heard in visions of the night;
And mem'ry dear as vestal Truth,
Brought ev'ry shade and form to light.

The guileless hours of innocence,
They woke to birth and joy again;
And all that pleas'd the eye or sense,
That breath'd of peace or calm'd a pain.

A voice of manhood's fruitful age,
Came from the grave of years gone by
I saw his heart ere quite a sage,
He bask'd in smiling woman's eye.

A few more days had made him wise,
A voice, I heard, it cri'd beware!
`Trust not there's death in their disguise;
Away, ah! from the syren tear.'

A voice of age of frosted gray,
Burst from the portals of the tomb;
`Take heed thou youth, thy flow'ry way,
`Will end at last, but in this gloom.

`Lift up thy thoughts from grov'ling earth
`Where brighter scenes of joy arise,
`To ought of pure undying worth,
`In God's Supernal Paradise!'

Arion

2:13, p. 102

1828.06.20