Hard by the murmurs of the chrystal stream, A sudden voice I hear; amazed I stand, Catch every sound, and still the voice returns! Behold a sage advancing through the groves, Time's ruthless hand with wrinkles knit his brow; "To snatch me from the wreck, which threats the world, Hail, bright Philosophy, thy pages ne'er Could boast a fairer dignity to man! Of morals pure, and of a heart sincere, In him the virtues, all resplendent, shone. "Yon river," spoke the sage," which foams along, "Its waves perplexed, by craggy rocks enraged, "Points to my eye the picture of the world, "Where care corrodes all happiness below. "From the tumultuous scenes of worldly strife, "Where pride's gay, tinsel train, in fashion's sun, "Bask like the butterfly, a day to charm, "To these green bowers, and rural groves I came, "And sought retirement in her native shade. "The heaven which mortals vainly seek below, "In earthly gew-gaws, and in princely state, "May here be found, if earth a heaven produce. "By contemplation led, we walk on high; "And here by fond anticipation taste "That bliss, which virtue shall hereafter crown. "To adorn mankind, the virtues to display, He ceas'd; for admiration then began, And honoured with a tear the pride of man. PALE is the mournful eye of setting day; Beneath thick glooms the distant landscape fades ;' What ghastly phantoms round me seem to rise! With this just lecture on their tongues they come; In yonder spot Fame's great colossus lies; A BOWDOIN moulders in the humble tomb!* How short the fleeting hour assigned to man! Yes, 'tis a glorious truth, that man, refined Shall shine amid the stars of endless day. Hark! the sad voice of death, with solemn sound, Across the fields see heavenly Virtue stray; And Love celestial bend their pensive way, Mid the dark melancholy walks of death, Towards a stately monument they rove; From realms of purest happiness they flow, To adorn the grave where their dear votary slept; The world they found suffused in tears of woe, And feeling for its loss in pity wept. Around the tomb the heavenly spirits stand, In all the plaintive eloquence of grief; "Here rest in peace, thou patriot of thy land, "Sage of the world, and Virtue's darling chief!" "Let spring immortal o'er thy ashes bloom; "To thee let earth the laurelled wreath resign; "The ivy and the olive deck the tomb; "For valour, eloquence, and peace were thine!" "Well may thy friends bedew thy hallowed urn, Weep o'er the grave, which BowDOIN's dust entombs ; In him the patriot virtues all combined;" How oft have senates on his accents hung, Strong, without rage, and without flattery, sweet." When Massachusetts' patriot sages met, To snatch from fate their country's falling name, His arm, like Jove's, upreared the sinking state, And raised a pillar in the dome of fame. His noble soul no selfish motive fired; In danger prudent, resolute, admired; Beneath his friendly wing the muses found There Art and Science were with bounty crowned, |