220 
Then gaze within, and ask the wearied heart, 
How through the year it acted out its part? 
How much of goodness it to earth has given ? 
How much of beauty offered up to heaven ? 
What bright examples it has nobly wrought? 
And what high lessons to the worldling taught ? 
We turn to Fancy, from whose magic power, 
We oft find solace in some darkened hour, 
And ask what she , pervading as the sun, 
To cheer the lonely and the sad has done ? 
And, lo! e’en now, at this drear time she stands, 
Her brightest treasures ever in her hands. 
From the dark Yew Tree , which of ‘ sorrow’ tells, 
She steals the venom of its poisoned spells, 
By placing it amid the Holly leaves, 
And scarlet berries, which her votary weaves, 
In garlands offered to the parting year, 
With sighs embalmed and sanctified by prayer. 
