My hour is not yet come!--these burning eyes
Have not yet look'd their _last_!--else, 'mid the roar
Of this wild STORM, what gloomy joy to pour
My freed, exhaling Soul!--sublime to rise,
Rend the conflicting clouds, inflame the skies,
And lash the torrents!--Bending to explore
Our evening seat, my straining eye once more
Roves the wide watry Waste;--but nought descries
Save the pale Flood, o'erwhelming as it strays.
Yet Oh! lest my remorseless Fate decree
That all I love, with life's extinguish'd rays
Sink from my soul, to soothe this agony,
To balm that life, whose loss may forfeit thee,
COME DEAR REMEMBRANCE OF DEPARTED DAYS!