1813 .] 
[ 47 ] 
ORIGINAL POETRY 
IMPROMPTU, 
On hearing of the sudden decease of an intimate 
friend of the noriter. 
■\\rHAT art thou, Death, grim monster ! that 
the soul 
With dread instinctive shrinks from thy ap¬ 
proach ? 
What art thou, save the minister of health 
and joy ? 
Thou lead’st the soul with dark mysterious 
hand. 
Through shades obscure and sickening to the 
sense. 
Thou lead’st through paths inexplicably 
drear, 
To smiling scenes and realms of endless 
light: 
If such thy task, why draw we back the 
hand. 
And why recoils the soul upon herself? 
Thou balm to sickness—friend to poverty ! 
I hail thy presence with a lover’s joy ! 
Thy ofSce is but short, thou takest in charge 
Th’ immortal spirit, and in firm security 
Presents it at the glorious tribunal 
Of Love and Mercy—God’s eternal court. 
Thou art at best, or worst, a messenger 
Of his omniscient will, and from him 
comest 
With ticket of admission to the fields 
Of beauty and perpetual joy and peace ; 
Thou only comest with mandate high to 
take 
That spark eternal, portion of himself. 
Which he for our behest has kindly lent j 
Why dread we then his friendly aid, and 
fear 
To trust ourselves with God’s immediate 
Messenger a-while, without whose aid 
Our emanation from the source of light 
Would wander in a dark unknown for ever ? 
For flesh is mortal, and mortality 
Must perish, while the soul instinctive flies 
To realms eternal, where beams of glory 
Ever shall illume the vast expanse, 
Where angels sing, and million saints adore. 
In one harmonious symphony of praise; 
Where hallelujahs echoing from afar, 
Proclaim Emanuel’s blissful reign of love ! 
SONNETS, 
TO PATIENCE. 
J^ESCEND, meek Patience, delegate of hea¬ 
ven. 
And with thee bring such balsam on thy 
wing, 
That e’en the wretch, by sad Misfortune 
driven, 
Shall bear with fortitude her keenest 
sting i 
That he, beneath whose eye has seldom 
thriven 
The ever-cheering balm Hygeia brings. 
Shall meet with firmness (when thine aid is 
given,) ^ 
The weakening ill that from affliction 
springs. 
Oh heav’n-born Patience! search those drear 
recesses 
Where many a son of ling’ring sickness 
winds, 
And with thy solace lighten the distresses. 
Beneath whose weight th’ unhappy sufi’rer 
bends; 
Ch! cheer th’ impatient soul when aught 
oppresses. 
That knaws no hope but what thy bountf^ 
lends! 
Wm. Taylor- 
"D EFLECTION musing on far distant yearSp 
Ere flatt’ring Love the youthful heaTt 
beguil’d, 
Or manhood’s passions turbiilently wild 
O’erpovv’rs the strength of Reason’s wist; 
compeers, 
Views with content the charm hless’d Hope 
endear’d. 
And fondly strives to trace each feature 
mild 
That mark’d the actions of the guileless 
child, 
Who Virtue, Truth, and Innocence, rever’d i 
Yet, ah ! how seldom ’midst the num’rou« 
throng 
Of rising youths that crowd life’s busy 
stage, 
Is young Experience found to vie with age. 
And claim those virtues ever bright and 
strong. 
That shine conspicuous in the poet’s song, 
That charm the senses and the hearts 
engage. W. Taylor* 
BETH-GELERT, 
OR, THE GRAVE OF THE GREYHOUND.’^ 
^HE spearmen heard the bugle sound. 
And churly smil’d the morn. 
And many a brach, and many a hound. 
Obey’d Llewelyn’s horn. 
And still he blew a louder blast. 
And gave a lustier cheer, 
“Come, Gelert, come, we’rt never last, 
Llewelyn’s horn to hear. 
* The story of this ballad is traditionary ia 
a village at the foot of Snowdon, where 
Llewelyn the Great had a house. The 
Greyhound, named Gelert, was given to hiiii 
by his father-in-law King John, in the year 
1^05] and the place to this day is called 
Bctli-Geicrt, or the Grave of Gelert. 
OhI 
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