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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538646" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Harp, And Despair, Of Cowper</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sweet bard, whose tones great Milton might approve,<br>And Shakspeare, from high Fancy's sphere,<br>Turning to the sound his ear,<br>Bend down a look of sympathy and love;<br>Oh, swell the lyre again,<br>As if in full accord it poured an angel's strain!<br>But oh! what means that look aghast,<br>Ev'n whilst it seemed in holy trance,<br>On scenes of bliss above to glance!<br>Was it a fiend of darkness passed!<br>Oh, speak--<br>Paleness is upon his cheek--<br>On his brow the big drops stand,<br>To airy vacancy<br>Points the dread silence of his eye,<br>And the loved lyre it falls, falls from his nerveless hand!<br>Come, peace of mind, delightful guest!<br>Oh, come, and make thy downy nest<br>Once more on his sad heart!<br>Meek Faith, a drop of comfort shed;<br>Sweet Hope, support his aged head;<br>And Charity, avert the burning dart!<br>Fruitless the prayer--the night of deeper woes<br>Seems o'er the head even now to close;<br>In vain the path of purity he trod,<br>In vain, in vain,<br>He poured from Fancy's shell his sweetest hermit strain--<br>He has no hope on earth: forsake him not, O God!</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=538646" data-title="The Harp, And Despair, Of Cowper de William Lisle Bowles" data-description="Sweet bard, whose tones great Milton might approve, And Shakspeare, from high Fancy's sphere, Turning to the sound his ear, Bend down a look of sympathy and love; Oh, swell the lyre again, As if in full accord it poured an angel's strain! But oh! ..."></div> </div> </div>
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