63 UENKY KfRKE WHITE S POEMS. 



Then thereon mj statue lay, 



With hands in attitude to pray, 



And angels serve to hold my head, 



Weeping o'er the father dead. 



Duly too at close of day. 



Let the pealing organ play ; 



And while the harmonious thunders roll, 



Chant a vesper to my soul : 



Thus how sweet my sleep will be, 



Shut out from thoughtful misery ! 



ATHANATOS. 



Away with Death — away 

 With all her sluggish sleeps and chilling dampa 



Impervious to the day, 

 Where nature sinks into inanity. 

 How can the soul desire 

 Such hateful nothingness to crave, 

 And yield with joy the vital fire 

 To moulder in the grave ! 



Yet mortal life is sad, 

 Eternal storms molest its sullen sky ; 



And sorrows ever rife 

 Drain the sacred fountain dry — 

 Away with mortal life : 

 But, hail the calm reality, 

 The seraph Immortality, 

 Hail the heavenly bowers of peace, 

 Where all the storms of passion cease. 

 Wild life's dismaying struggle o'er. 

 The wearied spirit weeps no more ; 

 But wears the eternal smile of joy. 

 Tasting bliss without alloy. 

 Welcome, welcome, happy bowers, 

 Where no passing tempest lowers ; 

 But the azure heavens display 

 The everlasting smile of day ; 



