416 TSIIBUTARY VERSES. 



SONNET 

 On Henry Kirke White, 

 I. 

 Master so early of the various lyre 



Energic, pure, sublime ! — Thus art thou gone I 

 In its bright dawn of fame that spirit flown 

 Which breathed such sweetness, tenderness, and Sre ! 

 Wert thou but shown to win us to admire, 

 And veil in death thy splendour ? — but unknown 

 Their destination who least time have shone, 

 And brightest beam'd. — ^AVhen these the Eternal Sire, 



II. 



— Righteous and wise, and good are all his ways — 



Eclipses as their sun begins to rise, 

 Can mortal judge, for their diminish 'd days. 



What blest equivalent in changeless skies, 

 What sacred glory waits them ! — His the praise ; 



Gracious, whatever he gives, whate'er denies. 



C. LOFFT. 

 24th Oct. 1806. 



SONNET, 

 Occasioned by the Death of H. Eirke White. 



I. 



Yes, fled already is thy vital fire. 



And the fair promise of thy early bloom 



Lost, in youth's morn extinct ; sunk in the tomb ; 



Mute in the grave sleeps thy enchanted lyre ! 



And is it vainly that our souls aspire ? 

 Falsely does the presaging heart presume 

 That we shall live beyond life's cares and gloom ; 



Grasps it eternity with high desire, 



II. 



But to imagine bliss, feel woe, and die ; 



Leaving survivors to worse pangs than death ? 



Net such the sanction of the Eternal Mind. 

 The harmonious order of the starry sky. 



And awful revelation's angel-breath. 

 Assure these hopes their full eiiect shall find. 



25tli Dec. 1P06. 



C. L. 



