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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538593" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Monody On Henry Headley</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To every gentle Muse in vain allied,<br>In youth's full early morning HEADLEY died!<br>Too long had sickness left her pining trace,<br>With slow, still touch, on each decaying grace:<br>Untimely sorrow marked his thoughtful mien!<br>Despair upon his languid smile was seen!<br>Yet Resignation, musing on the grave,<br>(When now no hope could cheer, no pity save),<br>And Virtue, that scarce felt its fate severe,<br>And pale Affection, dropping soft a tear <br>For friends beloved, from whom she soon must part,<br>Breathed a sad solace on his aching heart.<br>Nor ceased he yet to stray, where, winding wild,<br>The Muse's path his drooping steps beguiled,<br>Intent to rescue some neglected rhyme,<br>Lone-blooming, from the mournful waste of time;<br>And cull each scattered sweet, that seemed to smile<br>Like flowers upon some long-forsaken pile.<br>Far from the murmuring crowd, unseen, he sought<br>Each charm congenial to his saddened thought. <br>When the gray morn illumed the mountain's side,<br>To hear the sweet birds' earliest song he hied;<br>When meekest eve to the fold's distant bell<br>Listened, and bade the woods and vales farewell,<br>Musing in tearful mood, he oft was seen<br>The last that lingered on the fading green.<br>The waving wood high o'er the cliff reclined,<br>The murmuring waterfall, the winter's wind,<br>His temper's trembling texture seemed to suit; <br>As airs of sadness the responsive lute.<br>Yet deem not hence the social spirit dead,<br>Though from the world's hard gaze his feelings fled:<br>Firm was his friendship, and his faith sincere,<br>And warm as Pity's his unheeded tear,<br>That wept the ruthless deed, the poor man's fate,<br>By fortune's storms left cold and desolate.<br>Farewell! yet be this humble tribute paid<br>To all his virtues, from that social shade<br>Where once we sojourned. I, alas! remain<br>To mourn the hours of youth, yet mourn in vain, <br>That fled neglected. Wisely thou hast trod<br>The better path; and that High Meed, which GOD<br>Ordained for Virtue towering from the dust,<br>Shall bless thy labours, spirit pure and just!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Lisle+Bowles">William Lisle Bowles</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538593" data-title="Monody On Henry Headley de William Lisle Bowles" data-description="To every gentle Muse in vain allied,
In youth's full early morning HEADLEY died!
Too long had sickness left her pining trace,
With slow, still touch, on each decaying grace:
Untimely sorrow marked his thoughtful mien!
Despair upon his languid smil..."></div>
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