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With grateful heart he knelt to Heav'n, Nor night nor morn his praises cease;And, many a happy year gone by,Poor Richard breath'd his latest sigh, And clos'd his days, in peace.
RETRIBUTION;OR,THE HALL OF ST. GARVIN.
"Ah! me, what mournful train is yon, That sadly winds along the vale?How sadly sounds the fun'ral dirge, Dull floating on the ev'ning gale!
Why do the lovely maidens weep, Distracted o'er yon sable bier?Why do the gentle shepherds sigh? And why the aged drop the tear?
And why, as on the coffin's lid The new-rais'd earth again doth fall,Thus breaks such lamentation loud Responsive from the lips of all?"
