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