Salmagundi (Huddesford, 1791)/Elegy. Philemon
PHILEMON,
AN ELEGY.
Where shade yon yews the Churchyard's lonely bourn,
With faultering step, absorb'd in thought profound,
Philemon wends in solitude to mourn,
While Evening pours her deep'ning glooms around.
With faultering step, absorb'd in thought profound,
Philemon wends in solitude to mourn,
While Evening pours her deep'ning glooms around.
Loud shrieks the blast, the sleety torrent drives,
Wide spreads the tempest's desolating power;
To grief alone Philemon reckless lives,
No rolling peal he heeds, cold blast or shower.
Wide spreads the tempest's desolating power;
To grief alone Philemon reckless lives,
No rolling peal he heeds, cold blast or shower.
For This the Date that stampt his Emma's doom,
In his fond arms she breath'd her life's last sigh:
"Say, will my Love e'er seek his Emma's tomb?"
She cried, then clos'd in death each wistful eye.
In his fond arms she breath'd her life's last sigh:
"Say, will my Love e'er seek his Emma's tomb?"
She cried, then clos'd in death each wistful eye.
No sighs he breath'd, for anguish riv'd his breast,
Her clay-cold hand he grasp'd, no tears he shed,
'Till fainting Nature sunk by grief oppress'd,
And ere Distraction came, all sense was fled.
Her clay-cold hand he grasp'd, no tears he shed,
'Till fainting Nature sunk by grief oppress'd,
And ere Distraction came, all sense was fled.
Now Time has calm'd, not cur'd Philemon's woe,
For grief like his, life-woven never dies;
And still each year's collected sorrows flow,
As drooping o'er his Emma's tomb he sighs.
For grief like his, life-woven never dies;
And still each year's collected sorrows flow,
As drooping o'er his Emma's tomb he sighs.