On his Mother's death
This is the first rough draft by James Thomson of his verses on the death of his Mother as written in his Youth just after he left Scotland
- Ye fabled Muses I your aid disclaim
- Your airy raptures and your fancy'd flame
- True genuine woe my throbbing breast inspires
- Love prompts my lays and filial duty fires
- The soul springs instant att the warm design
- And the heart dictates ev'ry flowing line
- See! where the kindest best of mothers lies
- And death has shut her ever-weeping eyes
- Has lodg'd att last peace in her weary breast
- And lull'd her many peircing cares to rest
- No more the orphan train around her stands
- While her full heart upbraids her needy hands
- No more the widdow's lonely fate she feels
- The shock severe that modest want conceals
- Th' oppressors scourge the scorn of wealthy pride
- And Poverty's unnumber'd ills beside
- For see! attended by th' angelic throng
- Thro' yonder worlds of light she glides along
- And claims the well-yearn'd raptures of the sky—
- Yet fond concern recalls the mothers eye
- She seeks th' unfreinded orphans left behind
- So hardly left! so bitterly resign'd!
- Still still! is she my souls divinest theme
- The waking vision and the waiting dream
- Amid the ruddy Suns enliv'ning blaze
- O'er my dark eyes her dewy image plays,
- And in the dread dominion of the night
- Shines out again the sadly-pleasing sight
- Triumphant virtue all around her darts
- And more than volumes ev'ry look imparts
- Looks soft yet awfull melting yet serene
- Wher both the mother and the saint are seen
- But ah! that night that tort'ring night! remains
- May darkness dye it with its deepest stains
- May joy on it forsake her rosy bowrs
- And screaming sorrow blast its balefull hours
- When on the margin of the briny flood
- Chill'd with a sad presaging damp I stood
- Took the last look ne'er to behold her more
- And mix'd our murmurs with the wavy roar
- Heard the last words fall from her pious tongue
- Then wild into the bulging vessel flung
- Which soon too soon convey'd me from her sight
- Dearer than life and liberty and light
- Why was I then ye powrs reserv'd for this
- And not'sunk instant in the vast abyss?
- Devour'd att once by the relentless wave
- And whelm'd for ever in a watry grave?—
- Down ye wild wishes of unruly woe!
- I see her with immortal beauty glow,
- The early wrinkle care contracted gone
- Her tears all wip'd and all her sorrows flown
- Th' exalting voice of heavn I hear her breath
- To sooth her from the agonies of death
- I see her thro the blest apartments rove
- And now she meets her dear expecting love
- Heart-easing sight! if not in part o'erspread
- By the damp gloom of greif's uncheerfull shade
- But round me light let this reflection pour
- Well may we trust the kind o'erruling powr
- Who from the night commands the shining day
- The poor man's portion! and the orphan's stay!
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