Page:The West Indies, and Other Poems.djvu/168
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156
Such was the picture Fancy drew,
In lineaments divinely true;
The Muse, by her mysterious art,
Had shewn her likeness to my heart,
And every faithful feature brought
O'er the clear mirror of my thought.
—But she was waning to the tonib;
The worm of death was in her bloom
Yet as the mortal frame declined,
Strong through the ruins rose the mind:
As the dim moon, when night ascends,
Slow in the east the darkness rends,
Through melting clouds, by gradual gleams,
Pours the mild splendour of her beams,
Then bursts in triumph o'er the pole,
Free as a disembodied soul!
Thus while the veil of flesh decay'd,
Her beauties brighten'd through the shade;
Charms which her lowly heart conceal'd
In nature's weakness were reveal'd;
In lineaments divinely true;
The Muse, by her mysterious art,
Had shewn her likeness to my heart,
And every faithful feature brought
O'er the clear mirror of my thought.
—But she was waning to the tonib;
The worm of death was in her bloom
Yet as the mortal frame declined,
Strong through the ruins rose the mind:
As the dim moon, when night ascends,
Slow in the east the darkness rends,
Through melting clouds, by gradual gleams,
Pours the mild splendour of her beams,
Then bursts in triumph o'er the pole,
Free as a disembodied soul!
Thus while the veil of flesh decay'd,
Her beauties brighten'd through the shade;
Charms which her lowly heart conceal'd
In nature's weakness were reveal'd;