Stanzas

Stanzas

Whose every want he lov'd to tend;

Not on those vallies wand'ring wide,

Where, sweetly lost, he oft would wend;

That form belov'd he marks no more,

Those scenes admired no more shall see,

Those scenes are lovely as before,

And she as fair - but where is he?

No, no, the radiance is not dim,

That used to gild his fav'rite hill,

The pleasures that were dear to him,

Are dear to life and nature still;

And yet his home is not as fair,

Neglected must his gardens be,

The lilacs droop and wither there,

And seem to whisper -" where is he?"

His was the pomp, the crowded hall,

But where is now the proud display;

His - riches, honors, pleasures, all

Desire could frame, but where are they?

And he - as some tall rock that stands

Protected by the circling sea -

Surrounded by admiring bands,

Seem'd proudly strong - and where is he?

The church-yard bears an added stone,

The fire-side shews a vacant chair;

Here sadness dwells and weeps alone,

And Death displays his banner there;

The life is o'er, the breath has fled,

And what has been, no more shall be,

The well-known form, the welcome tread,

Oh where are they - and where is he?

Henry Neele

1:2, p. 8

1827.03.23