TO THE MEMORY OF FELICIA HEMANS.
The radiant star is set,
E'en in the golden brightness of its fame!
No cloud to dim the glory of its name.
Nor can the heart forget,
How sweetly has its radiance cheered our way,
Shedding o'er earth the lustre of its ray.
E'en in the golden brightness of its fame!
No cloud to dim the glory of its name.
Nor can the heart forget,
How sweetly has its radiance cheered our way,
Shedding o'er earth the lustre of its ray.
Hushed is the harp's rich note:
The hand that once awoke the soul-fraught strain,
Shall never sweep its broken chords again.
The dying echoes float,
Like twilight music o'er the summer's sea,
Soothing the soul with richest melody.
The hand that once awoke the soul-fraught strain,
Shall never sweep its broken chords again.
The dying echoes float,
Like twilight music o'er the summer's sea,
Soothing the soul with richest melody.
The Christian's race is o'er.
From grief and sorrow free, her feet have pressed
The pathway 'where the weary are at rest."
She treads the blissful shore,
Where joy the strain of holy rapture breathes,
And Love its never-fading chaplet wreathes.
From grief and sorrow free, her feet have pressed
The pathway 'where the weary are at rest."
She treads the blissful shore,
Where joy the strain of holy rapture breathes,
And Love its never-fading chaplet wreathes.
Yes, though the monarch death
May stamp his seal upon the yielding brow,
And bid the form to his stern sceptre bow;—
And though the fleeting breath,
At his behest, the restless quivering cease,
While the immortal spirit finds release;—
May stamp his seal upon the yielding brow,
And bid the form to his stern sceptre bow;—
And though the fleeting breath,
At his behest, the restless quivering cease,
While the immortal spirit finds release;—
In the bright courts above,
Where angel harps the ceaseless chorus raise,
The heaven-tuned song shall swell her notes of praise.
Before the throne of love,
Its breathings tuned to heaven's own melody,
Her spirit swells the anthem of the free.
Where angel harps the ceaseless chorus raise,
The heaven-tuned song shall swell her notes of praise.
Before the throne of love,
Its breathings tuned to heaven's own melody,
Her spirit swells the anthem of the free.
Minstrel! whose magic sway
Can bid the secret fountains of the heart,
The gushing meed of sympathy impart!
Whose spirit-stirring lay
Can breathe with wizard power the gracious spell,
Of heavenly hopes and holy thoughts to tell;—
Can bid the secret fountains of the heart,
The gushing meed of sympathy impart!
Whose spirit-stirring lay
Can breathe with wizard power the gracious spell,
Of heavenly hopes and holy thoughts to tell;—
To thee we yield our praise.
The glorious tribute of undying fame
Shall cling around the memory of thy name;
For Genius ne'er decays;
But like the immortal spirit, high and free,
A deathless glory is its destiny.
The glorious tribute of undying fame
Shall cling around the memory of thy name;
For Genius ne'er decays;
But like the immortal spirit, high and free,
A deathless glory is its destiny.
And thus thy name shall dwell,
A hallowed treasure, purified and bright,
To shed around our path its holy light;
And future years shall tell
With what deep love thy cherished name we keep,
Thou! locked in death's unwakening, icy sleep!
A hallowed treasure, purified and bright,
To shed around our path its holy light;
And future years shall tell
With what deep love thy cherished name we keep,
Thou! locked in death's unwakening, icy sleep!
To thy last resting-place,
In grief's hushed stillness o'er thy sleep to bend,
Shall Genius come, with Love its tears to blend.
There, too, the eye may trace
Devotion's sacred form and heaven-raised eye,
Communing with the soul that rests on high.
In grief's hushed stillness o'er thy sleep to bend,
Shall Genius come, with Love its tears to blend.
There, too, the eye may trace
Devotion's sacred form and heaven-raised eye,
Communing with the soul that rests on high.
Farewell! again farewell!
The voice we loved so well in death is hushed,
The fountain's last sweet flow of song has gushed:
Yet shall thy memory dwell,
Enshrined within the hearts that fount has blessed,
Till we shall share thy blissful, glorious rest.
The voice we loved so well in death is hushed,
The fountain's last sweet flow of song has gushed:
Yet shall thy memory dwell,
Enshrined within the hearts that fount has blessed,
Till we shall share thy blissful, glorious rest.