Hail Felpham! Hail! in youth my favorite scene! First in my heart of villages marine! To me thy waves confirm'd my truest wealth, My only parent's renovated health, Whose love maternal, and whose sweet discourse Gave to my feelings all their cordial force: Hence mindful, how her tender spirit blest Thy salutary air, and balmy rest; Thee, as profuse of recollections sweet, Fit for a pensive veteran's calm retreat, I chose, as provident for sure decay, A nest for age in life's declining day! Reserving Eartham for a darling son, Confiding in our threads of life unspun: Blind to futurity!--O blindness, given As mercy's boon to man from pitying Heaven! Man could not live, if his prophetic eyes View'd all afflictions, ere they will arise. Think, gentle friend, who saw'st, in chearful hour Thy poet planning a sequestered tower, And gayly rearing, in affection's pride, His little villa by the ocean's side; Encircled then by friendly artists, three, Full of sweet fancy, and of social glee, Think what sensations must have pierc'd his breast Had a prophetic voice this truth exprest: O'er thy new fabric ere six year's have fled Lonely thou'lt mourn all these dear inmates dead. The unrelenting grave absorb'd them all, And in the shade of this domestic wall, Which, as it rose re-echoed to their voice, And heard them in gay presages rejoice Of future studies, works of special note! That each, to deck these precincts, would devote. Here robb'd of them, their leader, and their friend, Of their kind visions feels the mournful end, Afflicted, and alone!--Yet not alone! Their hovering spirits make this scene their own. O sweet prerogative of love sublime! Which so can soften destiny, and time, That grief-worn hearts, by Fancy's charm revive! The lost are present! the deceas'd alive! Yes! ye dear buried inmates of my mind! Your converse still within these walls I find; In hours of study, and in hours of rest, You still to me my purest thoughts suggest: My heart's propensities you cherish still To Heaven thanksgiving! and to earth good-will! In you I still behold affection's smile, Which can all troubles of the heart beguile; I hear your kind approvance of my zeal, When, anxious all your merits to reveal, Having consign'd your bones to sacred earth, My mind aspir'd to memorize your worth. Grateful employment of the feeling soul! That, in despite of sorrow's dark controul Keeps the pure form of deathless virtue bright By just commemoration's soothing light! For such employment thou wast aptly made, Thou dear sequester'd cell! in whose calm shade Thy lonely bard might suit his plaintive strain, To solemn music from the murmuring main! Belov'd marine retreat! I oft recall The night, I first repos'd within thy wall: A night devoted, at a friend's desire, To touch the chords of a sepulchral lyre! Touch'd not in vain!--The faithful tribute brought To cureless grief the lenitive, she sought; And Lushington, thro' tearful anguish, smil'd