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So bright, as if its veil unfurl'd
The entrance to a better world.
From thence, the sun, releas'd from toil,
Has shed his soft, departing smile,
And glittering through a dewy tear,
Fled gladly to another sphere.
Perchance, this scene with beauty fraught,
Was shewn to wake sublimer thought;
Perchance, was spread this evening sky,
To lure the fix'd, enraptur'd eye,
To trace upon its varying roll,
An emblem of the virtuous soul,
Who toiling on, through blasts of strife,
And shades of woe, and storms of life,
Perceives a mansion, pure and blest,
A cloudless sky, a cell of rest,
And pressing on, where sorrows cease,
Thus sheds the parting beam of peace.
And quick, my trembling measure takes
The wish this glowing scene awakes,
Not that which decks the polish'd line,
Where art and melody combine,
But from a heart where feeling sighs,
And grateful memory lifts her eyes,
That warm and ardent wish will rise,
That such a cell of peace divine,
And such a rest in Heaven be thine.
