554 ANNUAL REGISTER, 1813. 



At Adam's feet; half-rising in despair, 



Him from our arms she wildly strove to tear ; 



Repell'd by gentle violence, she press'd 



His powerless hand to her convulsive breast, 



And kneeling, bending o'er him, full of fears, 



Warm on his bosom shower'd her silent tears. 



Light to his eyes, at that refreshment, came, 



They open'd on her in a transient flame ; 



— ' And art thou here, ray Life ! my Love !' he cried, 



' Faithful in death to this congenial side? 



* Thus let me bind thee to my breaking heart, 

 ' One dear, one bitter moment, ere we part.' 

 — • Leave me not, Adam ! leave me not below ; 



• With thee I tarry, or with thee I go.* 

 She said, and yielding to his faint embrace, 

 Clung round his neck, and wept upon his face. 

 Alarming recollection soon return'd, 



His fever'd frame with growing anguish burn'd : 

 Ah ! then, as Nature's tenderest impulse wrought, 

 With fond solicitude of love she sought 

 To soothe his limbs upon their grassy bed, 

 And make the pillow easy to his head : 

 She wiped his reeking temples with her hair ; 

 She shook the leaves to stir the sleeping air ; 

 Moisten'd his lips with kisses ; with her breath 

 Vainly essay'd to quell the fire of Death, 

 That ran and revelled through his swollen veins 

 With quicker pulses, and severer pains. 



" The sun, in summer majesty on high. 

 Darted his fierce effulgence down the sky. 

 Yet dimm'd and blunted were the dazzling rays, 

 His orb expanded through a dreary haze. 

 And circled with a red portentous zone. 

 He look'd in sickly horror from his throne ; 

 The vital air was still ; the torrid heat 

 Oppress'd our hearts, that labour'd hard to beat. 

 When higher noon had shrunk the lessening shade, 

 Thence to his home our father we convey'd. 

 And stretch'd him, pillow'd with his latest sheaves, 

 On a fresh couch of green and fragrant leaves : 

 Here, though his sufferings thro' the glen were known. 

 We chose to watch his dying bed alone, 



Eve, Seth, and I In vain he sigh'd for rest. 



And oft his meek complainings thus express'd : 

 — ' Blow on me, Wind ! I faint with heat ! O bring 

 ' Delicious water from the deepest spring ; — 



