ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. B.
(SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY MISS B***, HIS SISTER.)
At God's command the vital spirit fled,
And thou, my Brother! slumber'st with the dead.
Alas! how art thou changed! I scarcely dare
To gaze on thee;--dread sight! death, death is there.
How does thy loss o'erwhelm my heart with grief!
But tears, kind nature's tears afford relief.
Reluctant, sad, I take my last farewell:--
Thy virtues in my mind shall ever dwell;
Thy tender friendship felt so long for me,
Thy frankness, truth, thy generosity,
Thy tuneful tongue's persuasive eloquence,
Thy science, learning, taste, wit, common sense,
Thy patriot love of genuine liberty,
Thy heart o'erflowing with philanthropy;
And chiefly will I strive henceforth to feel
Thy firm religious faith and pious zeal,
Enlighten'd, liberal, free from bigotry,
And, that prime excellence, thy charity.
Farewell!--for ever?--no! forbid it, Heaven!
A glorious promise is to Christians given;
Though parted in this world of sin and pain,
On high, my Brother! we shall meet again.
LINES TO AN INFIDEL,
AFTER HAVING READ HIS BOOK AGAINST CHRISTIANITY.
Your book I've read: I would that I had not!
For what instruction, pleasure, have I got?
Amid that artful labyrinth of doubt
Long, long I wander'd, striving to get out;
Your thread of sophistry, my only clue,
I fondly hoped would guide me rightly through:
That spider's web entangled me the more:
With desperate courage onward still I went,
Until my head was turn'd, my patience spent:
Now, now, at last, thank God! the task is o'er.
I've been a child, who whirls himself about,
Fancying he sees both earth and heaven turn round;
Till giddy, panting, sick, and wearied out,
He falls, and rues his folly on the ground.