Page:Poems - Lewis (1812).djvu/49

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
POEMS.
33
Nor Those alone, whom earthly grief excites,Here hang the head.—To grace the funeral rites,Lo! where a band of bright ethereal PowersSigh o'er his corse, and deck his grave with flowers.There stand the Patriot-Virtues, loath to partFor ever from their favourite home, his heart.There History droops absorbed in speechless grief,Blotting with idle tears the unfinished leaf,And trampling in the dust those useless boughsOf Bays, she gathered to adorn his brows[1].Mourning her Sons disfranchised, while her eyesPursue the Patriot's shade to opening skies,Religion there in sable garments stands,And clasps in meek despair her shackled hands[2].And there too Peace her olive loves to wave,And strows its withered leaves on Fox's grave;For well she knows, e'en at that last sad hourWhen Nature yielded to Disease's power,
  1. ↑ His unfinished History of James the Second.
  2. ↑ His efforts to procure the repeal of the Test Act.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.