Poems (Hinxman)/The Remonstrance
THE REMONSTRANCE.
And dost thou quarrel with the faithful heart,To thee and to thy griefs long set apart,Because it yet can listen to the gleeOf innocent souls, and yield them response free?
For that it hath been chosen to receiveA tale of joy, is it less strong to grieve?Or is the chamber for thy sorrow grownUnmeet, wherein some few stray flowers are thrown?
Chid'st thou thy friend, that she went forth awhileTo taste the air, and see the summer smile,If from the breeze and sun she did but wooNew strength to suffer? And is this untrue?
Unkind and shallow this? O jealous friend,Be still; the sympathies that seem to spendTheir strength on alien claimants, spending grow,And are more large to cradle all thy woe.
Prompt Echo, to the whistling shepherd-boy,Will from the hill give back his note of joy;But should her friend, the pensive Bard, draw nigh,Ana, grudging, chide her for the gay reply;
So truly she takes up her wonted part,Pours back his own sad music on his heart;So steals herself his voice of tender blame,That he is hushed, content for very shame.
Nov. 12. 1847.