Now faint with virtue's toil, Las Casas' soul Sought with exulting hope, her heav'nly goal: 210 A bending angel consecrates his tears, And leads his kindred mind to purer spheres. But, ah! whence pours that stream of lambent light, That soft-descending on the raptur'd sight, Gilds the dark horrors of the raging storm-- 215 It lights on earth--mild vision! gentle form-- 'Tis Sensibility! she stands confest, With trembling step she moves, and panting breast; Wav'd by the gentle breath of passing sighs Loose in the air her robe expanded flies; 220 Wet with the dew of tears her soft veil streams, And in her eye the ray of pity beams; No vivid roses her mild cheek illume, Sorrow's wan touch has chas'd the purple bloom: Yet ling'ring there in tender, pensive grace, 225 The softer lily fills the vacant place; And ever as her precious tears bedew Its modest flowers, they shed a paler hue. To yon deserted grave, lo swift she flies Where her lov'd victim, mild Las Casas lies: 230 Light on the hallow'd turf I see her stand, And slowly wave in air her snowy wand; I see her deck the solitary haunt, With chaplets twin'd from every weeping plant. Its odours mild the simple vi'let shed, 235 The shrinking lily hung its drooping head; A moaning zephyr sigh'd within the bower, And bent the yielding stem of every flower: "Hither (she cried, her melting tone I hear "It vibrates full on fancy's raptur'd ear) 240 "Ye gentle spirits whom my soul refines, "Where all its animating lustre shines; "Ye who can exquisitely feel the glow "Whose soft suffusion gilds the cloud of woe; "Warm as the colours varying iris pours 245 "That tinge with streaming rays the chilling showers; "Ye to whose yielding hearts my power endears "The transport blended with delicious tears, "The bliss that swells to agony the breast, "The sympathy that robs the soul of rest; 250 "Hither with fond devotion pensive come, "Kiss the pale shrine, and murmur o'er the tomb; "Bend on the hallow'd turf the tear-full eye "And breathe the precious incense of a sigh. "Las Casas' tear has moisten'd mis'ry's grave, 255 "His sigh has moan'd the wretch it fail'd to save! "He, while conflicting pangs his bosom tear "Has sought the lonely cavern of despair; "Where desolate she fled, and pour'd her thought, "To the dread verge of wild distraction wrought. 260 "White drops of mercy bath'd his hoary cheek, "He pour'd by heav'n inspir'd its accents meek; "In truth's clear mirror bade the mourner's view "Pierce the deep veil which darkling error drew; "And vanquish'd empire with a smile resign, 265 "While brighter worlds in fair perspective shine."-- She paus'd--yet still the sweet enthusiast bends