ODE ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON. BY MR. COLLINS, The Scene of the following Stanzas is supposed to lie on the Thames near Richmond. IN yonder grave a Druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave ! The year's best sweets shall duteous rise To deck its Poet's sylvan grave! In yon deep bed of whispering reeds * His airy harp shall now be laid, That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, Then maids and youth shall linger here, To hear the woodland Pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest! * The harp of Æolus, of which see a description in the Castle of Indolence. And oft as ease and health retire To breezy lawn, or forest deep, The friend shall view yon whitening spire,* But Thou, who own'st that earthy bed, That mourn beneath the gliding sail ! Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide And see, the fairy vallies fade, Dun night has veiled the solemn view! The genial meads, assigned to bless Long, long, thy stone, and pointed clay, * Richmond Church. ADDRESS TO THE SHADE OF THOMSON, ON CROWNING HIS BUST WITH BAYS, AT EDNAM, IN ROXBURGHSHIRE. BY BURNS. WHILE virgin Spring, by Eden's flood, Unfolds her tender mantle green, While Summer, with a matron grace, While Autumn, benefactor kind! While maniac Winter rages o'er The hills whence classic Yarrow flows, Rousing the turbid torrent's roar, Or sweeping wild a waste of snows : So long, sweet Poet of the Year, Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won ; While Scotia, with exulting tear, Proclaims that THOMSON was her son ! |