GRIM Monarch! see depriv’d of vital breath,
A young Physician in the dust of death!
Dost thou go on incessant to destroy:
The grief to double, and impair the joy?
Enough thou never yet wast known to say,
Tho’ millions die thy mandate to obey.
Nor youth, nor science nor the charms of love,
Nor aught on earth thy rocky heart can move.
The friend, the spouse, from his dark realm to save,
In vain we ask the tyrant of the grave.
Fair mourner, there see thy own LEONARD spread,
Lies undistinguish’d from the vulgar dead;
Clos’d are his eyes, eternal slumbers keep,
His senses bound in never-waking sleep,
Till time shall cease; till many a shining world,
Shall fall from Heav’n, in dire confusion hurl’d:
Till dying Nature in wild torture lies;
Till her last groans shall rend the brazen skies!
And not till then, his active Soul shall claim,
Its body, now, of more than mortal frame.
But ah! methinks the rolling tears apace,
Pursue each other down the alter’d face.
Ah! cease ye sighs, nor rend the mourner’s heart:
Cease thy complaints, no more thy griefs impart.
From the cold shell of his great soul arise!
And look above, thou native of the skies!
There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind
Thy LEONARD flies, and leaves the earth behind.
Thyself prepare to pass the gloomy night,
To join forever in the fields of light;
To thy embrace, his joyful spirit moves,
To thee the partner of his earthly loves;
He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin’d
And better suited to the deathless mind.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Adela poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster
- The Routine Things Around The House by Stephen Dunn
- Psyche by Samuel Coleridge
- Untitled #11 by Nijole Miliauskaite
- Golden Eyes
- Федор Сологуб – Там, внизу, костры горели
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Ребенку
- Иван Мятлев – Розы
- The Pond poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Moon’s Truth (before the war) by Reena Ribalow
- Private Ground by Sylvia Plath
- The Bard by William Gilmore Simms
- Eclogue:–The Veäiries by William Barnes
- Don’t Ceäre by William Barnes
- Владимир Британишский – Паллас
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Phillis Wheatley (1753-84), a negro poetess, also an American poet or Afro-American poet, and an English Colonial poet, . She was born in Africa (in Gambia or Senegal) and was aptured by slave traders at the age of eight, she was sold to a family living in Boston, Mass., whose name she bears. While serving as a maid-servant to her proprietor’s wife, she showed an unusual facility with languages. She began writing poetry at the age of thirteen, using as models British poets of the time, especially Alexander Pope and Thomas Gray). In 1773 she accompanied a member of the Wheatley family to England, where she gained widespread attention in literary circles. She subsequently returned to Boston. Her best-known poems are “To the University of Cambridge in New England” (1767), In all honestly Phillis Wheatley should rather be considered English than an Afro-American poet but the exact classification of who she was would depend on the political and cultural views, and biases, of the “classifier.