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ON READING LORD BYRON'S LINES ON THE DEATH OF HENRY KIRKE WHITE,IN "ENGLISH BARDS AND SCOTCH REVIEWERS."
Unhappy White!—Ah! Byron, say not so!O, may thy spirit be as happy now!Well did an ancient sage the caution breathe,Say not what man is happy, ere his death!And when Kirke White expired, ah! who could fear,That that pure soul winged not its bright careerTo an exalted, a celestial sphere?Then say not, Byron, all its promise fairBut sought the grave to sleep for ever there!That noble heart by death was not undone;Heaven called, not Science slew, her favorite son,—
