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Here let Reflection Memory divine And Heav'nborn Meditation soothe my Soul, Soft Melancholy steals across my Mind, While silent and unmarked the moments roll.
Hapily innur'd within these Ivy'd Towers, some aching Heart by fortunes frowns laid low, Hid from th'unfurling World, dead to the [Power?] Of Joy, indulged in all the luxury of woe.-
But soft.. a shade seems in the uneven ground With gliding steps t'approach my verdant seat, In Monkish Cool, with sable girdle bound, And robes of grey [?] fall beneath the feet.
The silver'd Beard, and Hair top'd by the wind Darts all the glory of celestial light The countenance of sorrow, tho' resign'd And bent the shape once of majestic height.-
Its gentle tones still vibrate on my ear, And thus the interesting Vision said-
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The dark events of my sad story hear, And fear not sacred sorrow gentle Maid..
Within these gloomy walls for twice ten years A willing Victim to cold Solitude, When yonder gothic arch its ruins rear Silent, and sad, I downcast sorrow woo'd.
No hope of future [?] no distant ray Of social comfort, or domestic love, Beam'd like a star, to [cheer?] my dreary way Friendly to me I well knew naught I'd prove.
But the glad stroke, [?] shut me from y'day, That Death [?] shut me from the hated light, And hid my [?] in everlasting night; Yet once ----- The Sun here darted rays so= =bright, That all the Vision vanish'd from my sight.
