LINES ON THE DEATH OF MR PATRICK GIVEN

LINES ON THE DEATH OF
MR PATRICK GIVEN
LATE OF CULLYBACKEY

Upon the landscape, still and broad,
The silvery moonlight gently fell,
And on the flowery turf it glowed
Of a meek poet’s narrow cell.

There – listening to the wild-night breeze
A kindred spirit stood alone,
Who loved to hear it ‘mong the trees
Whistle aloud its airy moan.

With trembling hand his lyre he swept
A mournful prelude softly rung;
And while the world around him slept,
This simple elegy he sung.

Dear Child of Fancy – fare thee well
Be thy abode in heaven blest,
Peace be within they narrow cell,
And undisturbed thy shrouded rest.

Thou loved’st on Homer’s works to pore;
On Virgil’s sweet and simple page;
On Shakespeare’s “rich and varied lore,”
On Pope’s smooth verse and precepts sage.

Thou loved’st to see Aurora’s blush;
The mist uprising from the stream;
The dews impearl tree, flower, and bush;
To muse in wrapt ideal dream.

Thou loved’st  to watch “the orb of light”
Sink slowly down ‘neath ocean’s verge;
To mark the billows glancing bright
To listen to the sounding surge.

Thou loved’st to watch each twinkling star
When night her mantle spread abroad
O’er mother earth – but, better far,
Thou loved’st thy Saviour and thy God.

Ah! early lost! – in manhood’s spring!
Thy sorrowing friends will mourn for thee;
In realms of mind thou wert a king
A king in heaven-born minstrelsy!

The grand, the beautiful, the wild,
The sweet, the mild, thy soul possess’d
Thou wert a true poetic child
And with an eagle’s spirit blest.

Dear Child of Fancy – fare thee well
Be thy abode in heaven blest;
Peace be within thy narrow cell,
And undisturbed thy shrouded rest.

CUTIS, Cullybackey September 1864

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