ELEGY
I.
'TIS
night
,
dead
night
;
and
o'er
the
plain
Darkness
extends
her
ebon
ray
,
While
wide
along
the
gloomy
scene
Deep
Silence
holds
her
solemn
sway
:
Throughout
the
earth
no
chearful
beam
The
melancholic
eye
surveys
,
Save
where
the
worm's
fantastic
gleam
The
'nighted
traveller
betrays
:
The
savage
race
(
so
Heaven
decrees
)
No
longer
thro'
the
forest
rove
;
All
nature
rests
,
and
not
a
breeze
Disturbs
the
stillness
of
the
grove
:
All
nature
rests
;
in
Sleep's
soft
arms
The
village
swain
forgets
his
care
:
Sleep
,
that
the
sting
of
Sorrow
charms
,
And
heals
all
sadness
but
Despair
:
Despair
alone
her
power
denies
,
And
,
when
the
sun
withdraws
his
rays
,
To
the
wild
beach
distracted
flies
,
Or
chearless
thro'
the
desart
strays
;
Or
,
to
the
church-yard's
horrors
led
,
While
fearful
echoes
burst
around
,
On
some
cold
stone
he
leans
his
head
,
Or
throws
his
body
on
the
ground
.
To
some
such
drear
and
solemn
scene
,
Some
friendly
power
direct
my
way
,
Where
pale
Misfortune's
haggard
train
,
Sad
luxury
!
delight
to
stray
.
Wrapp'd
in
the
solitary
gloom
,
Retir'd
from
life's
fantastic
crew
,
Resign'd
,
I'll
wait
my
final
doom
,
And
bid
the
busy
world
adieu
.
The
world
has
now
no
joy
for
me
,
Nor
can
life
now
one
pleasure
boast
,
Since
all
my
eyes
desir'd
to
see
,
My
wish
,
my
hope
,
my
all
,
is
lost
;
Since
she
,
so
form'd
to
please
and
bless
,
So
wise
,
so
innocent
,
so
fair
,
Whose
converse
sweet
made
sorrow
less
,
And
brighten'd
all
the
gloom
of
care
,
Since
she
is
lost
:
—
Ye
powers
divine
,
What
have
I
done
,
or
thought
,
or
said
,
O
say
,
what
horrid
act
of
mine
Has
drawn
this
vengeance
on
my
head
!
Why
should
Heaven
favour
Lycon's
claim
?
Why
are
my
heart's
best
wishes
crost
?
What
fairer
deeds
adorn
his
name
?
What
nobler
merit
can
he
boast
?
What
higher
worth
in
him
was
found
My
true
heart's
service
to
outweigh
?
A
senseless
fop
!
—
A
dull
compound
Of
scarcely
animated
clay
!
He
dress'd
,
indeed
,
he
danc'd
with
ease
,
And
charm'd
her
by
repeating
o'er
Unmeaning
raptures
in
her
praise
,
That
twenty
fools
had
said
before
:
But
I
,
alas
!
who
thought
all
art
My
passion's
force
would
meanly
prove
,
Could
only
boast
an
honest
heart
,
And
claim'd
no
merit
but
my
love
.
Have
I
not
sate
—
Ye
conscious
hours
Be
witness
—
while
my
Stella
sung
,
From
morn
to
eve
,
with
all
my
powers
Rapt
in
th'
enchantment
of
her
tongue
!
Ye
conscious
hours
,
that
saw
me
stand
Entranc'd
in
wonder
and
surprize
,
In
silent
rapture
press
her
hand
,
With
passion
bursting
from
my
eyes
,
Have
I
not
lov'd
?
—
O
earth
and
Heaven
!
Where
now
is
all
my
youthful
boast
?
The
dear
exchange
I
hop'd
was
given
For
slighted
fame
and
fortune
lost
!
Where
now
the
joys
that
once
were
mine
?
Where
all
my
hopes
of
future
bliss
?
Must
I
those
joys
,
these
hopes
resign
?
Is
all
her
friendship
come
to
this
?
Must
then
each
woman
faithless
prove
,
And
each
fond
lover
be
undone
?
Are
vows
no
more
!
—
Almighty
Love
!
The
sad
remembrance
let
me
shun
!
It
will
not
be
—
My
honest
heart
The
dear
sad
image
still
retains
;
And
,
spight
of
reason
,
spight
of
art
,
The
dreadful
memory
remains
.
Ye
powers
divine
,
whose
wondrous
skill
Deep
in
the
womb
of
time
can
see
,
Behold
,
I
bend
me
to
your
will
,
Nor
dare
arraign
your
high
decree
.
Let
her
be
blest
with
health
,
with
ease
,
With
all
your
bounty
has
in
store
;
Let
sorrow
cloud
my
future
days
,
Be
Stella
blest
!
—
I
ask
no
more
.
But
lo
!
where
,
high
in
yonder
cast
,
The
star
of
morning
mounts
apace
!
Hence
—
let
me
fly
th'
unwelcome
guest
,
And
bid
the
Muse's
labour
cease
.