[ 226 ) 
[April 2, 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
ELEGY 
@N HENRY FRANCIS DUNCAN, (SON OF 
ANDREW DUNCAN, MED. DOCT. ET 
PROF.) WHO DIED AT EDINBURGH ON 
THE 24TH OF DECEMBER, 1805, IN 
THE I4TH YEAR OF HIS AGEs 
€¢ The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
away ; blefied be the name of the Lord.” 
H, whereis now the Parents’ fondeft hone, 
The well-known yeuth, their joy for 
ever fled ? 
Le, pale and filent lies the lovely clay, 
Life’s faire funfhine fets, to rife no more, 
And gay-eyed Health now withers in the 
duit ! 
Too foon, alas '!—I heard of late the voice 
Of harmiefs Mirth, of Innccence, of Joy. 
That mind,-fo pure, ingenuous, and fincere, 
With truch, which neecs no ornament, itfelf 
Rot lovely, and thofe merits which adorn 
The feene of youth, now fink into the 
grave, 
And forrow fhuts the fcene.— 
So fades, by wint’ry blafts, the fhort-liv’d 
hope, 
The future honour of the parent ftem. 
Such fate, the tender germ, the rifing bud, 
The witnefs of furrounding worth, has met. 
Not all th’ expanding beauties can avert 
The diétates of the fated hour, nor yet 
Can definy admit a p‘ea. Hence, then, 
Derive aleffon, Man, proud Man, the fport, 
The infe@& of an hour. With all thy heart, 
In early youth, remember well thy God. 
And ye who mourn in anguifh, ye who feel 
Afi&ion fore, whene’er the mind reverts 
To fcencs where Henry once could find de-' 
light, 
Excufe the fervour of that youth, who faw 
His merits, and his friendly name reveres ; 
Who, fympathizing, humbly dares to urge 
The voice of confolation. Well refie&, 
That Providence is juft, though dark its 
ways. 
He whom, with many a tear, you now de- 
* plore, 
Refs In that night to which our birth but 
ba leads, 
And reftsin peace. For him an early doom 
Was &x*d; no rifing manhood brought to 
him 
Its many mingled cares, unconfcious yet 
Of miferies which mark life’s chequer'd 
rat fcene.— 
But hark} The voice of univerfal praife, 
From all who knew his worth, reivunds fare- 
well”! 
And, breathing fervent bleffings on his foul, 
Confign it to the bofom of his God. 
But fop, my breatt, for nature claims a tear. 
- 
Now forrow’s dread folemnity revere, 
Friends ! what can fill this blank ? 
T 
z ro! | A ae 
STUDENT OF PHILOSOPRYs 
Univerfity of Edinburgh, 
31 December, 1805. 
ae 
THE RUINED ORPHAN. 
EY LAURA SOPHIA TEMPLE, 
"TRE Wizard of Winter is rouz’d from his 
fleep, 
In anger he comes o’er the waves of the 
deep ; 
In anger he comes,—but J heed nothis roar, 
For the Wizard of Winter can vex me no 
more, i 
The fea fowl retires to her defolate home, 
‘His fury bas warn’d her no lonzer to roam 3 
But J may the frown of his vengeance defy, 
For it never can wither my bloffoms of joy. 
Lo! he comes to the bed of the fragrant 
flow’r, - : 
And roots up the beautiful child of an hour. 
Now wildly he rides through the regions of 
air, 
Deftroying whatever is goedly and fair. 
Put harmiefs to me is the blaft of his wing ; 
The bolts of his wrata he is weicome to 
fling ; 
For my callous bofom he never can bruife 5 
And I have no foul-valued treafures to lofe. 
? 
Tis the morning of Summer that wakes me 
to pain; 
Tis the foft fong of pleafure that maddeas 
my brain 3 ; 
For Summer may come in the pride of her 
bloom, _ 
May give to the wodlands their wonted per- 
fume, “ , 
Aad the vall es may echo ‘with fongs of de- 
light, 
And unmark’d the moments purfue their gay 
flight ; 
Yet Summer to me fhall no image prefent © 
But the image of blifs that was long ago 
ipent. 
For, often has Nature her veftments renew'd, 
Aad often the South-wind his wild fight 
purfued, : 
Since that moment arriv’d “which was big 
with my fate, j 
Which condemn’d me to wander, to mourn, 
and to hate 5 
That moment,. when villainy doom’d me to 
fhime, 
And from Purity’s regifter ftruck out my 
Dawe 5 re 
- af 
