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179

That glow'd as 'twere but with a morning light,Then faded fast, and set in early night!
But not for ever set—a day shall riseWhen the broad face of heav'n shall melt away,The world with all her wonders shall decay,And nature tremble at her final doom;But thou shalt live in the eternal skies,Victorious over death, triumphant o'er the tomb!



THE GRAVE OF ABBOT.[1]
From Erin's isle a stranger came;Sunk was his cheek, and dim his eye,And the still fair but wasted frame,Spoke the last hour of suff'ring nigh.His youth was like a lovely springForetelling summer's joyful time—But fell disease was on the wing,And blasted Abbot's hopeful prime;Laid all his graces in the dust,And cropt his honours in their bloom;—But Abbot's was the Christian's trust—He look'd with faith beyond the tomb!
  1. Montague Abbot, an officer of marines, who was carried from on board the Venus frigate, in the last stage of a consumption; and died at Lerwick, in the spring of 1811.