Читать книгу The Life of John Graves Simcoe - William Renwick Riddell - Страница 14

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Fancy: to thee belongs the coming day:

Adorn it with thy trophies: with such flow’rs

As late o’er Wolfe were spread, while his cold clay

Britannia, weeping, in yon fane embow’rs.

Brave youth: for thee pure Glory framed the wreath,

Not of those tints which fade before the noon,

But of that sober cast, that hue of Death,

True Amaranth, the dying Patriot’s boon.

Blest be thy memory and rest in peace:

O may my soul be firm as thine, to meet

Dangers, which skill may lay and which shall cease,

Broke like the wave that bathes the proud rock’s feet.

Eliza: thou my triumphs still shall share;

Fancy and Hope thy sufferings shall bear,

And crown with twofold joy each fond suspended care.