New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1842-11-25
From the sor,on Miscellany.

From the Boston c1isceilaoy.
TRIBUTE
! the Memory Of Luereua and Margaret Dsvidso,
BIT GEORGE H. COTTON, AuTnos OF TfcuMsEH,' ETC.
"Tbou wer, uutit 10 veil with clay,
For sin too pnre, for cartl, TOO bright!
And Death, who called thee hence away,
Placed on hi, brow gem Of light"
The flowers tina, are most beautiful
Do earliest decay;
Ere breath Of Time their brightness dull
They breathe their life away.
The soft South wind tina, woke their oiooM
Reelaims full soon the sweet perfume,
Stealing it day by day;
The beams, that reared their tender oiru'
Wither them back again to earth.
The feeciest cloud at noon that flies
Fades soonest from the sight;
The hue. tina, aush the evening skies
Are quickly lost in night;
The aspiring fame Of brightest ray,
With lavish glory dies away
In its own beaming light;
Music, that wakes the sigh and tear,
Blu, lives momen, on the ear
0, wild Champlain! thy lonely lake
Hath known birth as fair,
As ever did being take
From sunlight or the air
A loneliness SO passing brief,
We could but wonder in our grief,
That charms so soft and rare
Should be to US a moment given,
Then fade into their native Heaven.
The form the face the mind the soul
1t skils not to inquire,
How mortal dust can e'er control
The Promelhean FIRE,
But gazers started to behold
The soul illume their earthly mould,
And sremblingly aspire,
AS chiseled vases, pure and white,
Shine all suaused with inward light.
And if with quick, ethereal mind
Their very clay was fraught,
So ne'er the visible confined
Their young and glowing thought:
AS by some lone and lovely lake
Two slumbering spirits should awake,
Their nature half forget
There fell on them, by fount and stream,
A strange, sad light, as of dream.
The running brook--the flying cloud
The wild-bird on the wing
The tempest swathed in wintry shroud--
The sweet, low voice of spring
All sounds and sights of earth and sky
Were glorious to their soul and eye,
Yet ever seemed to bring
Thoughts only of lofrier being
To which they fain would flee, were fleeing.
And these found utterance in song
But sorrowful its tone,
As strains Eo!an, wild and long,
At midnight breatEed alone;
For saddening falls-we know not why
The shadow of eternity,
Upon our spirits thrown
In sight of the Immortal Shore
They did the bright, green earth dePlore.
Il is fearful thing to die
When oil is gay around,
To bear the dim sight, fal,ering sigh,
The ear in dutness bound,
Along each torpid vein 10 feel
The icy sickness curdling steal,
Then dread the damp, cold ground,
And wet-eyed worm, as parts the breath
Oh these are terrible in death
But they SO grew before our gaze
Still, still more pure and pale.
So bright the spirits restless blaze
Sbone throsgh its mortal veil.
We deemed they nig bit beneath our eye
Pu, on their Immortality,
aior pass, with moan and wall,
through all tina, dreaded common doom,
The nameless terrors Of the tomb.
And 10! a, last-as softly born
OF sun and early dew,
Two clouds climb family up the morn
Till, lost each darker hue,
They sink int the sky's calm breast
To be forevermore at rest
So passed they from our view,
And high above the crystal sphere
Inherit " Heavens eternal year"
All pardos, il we prayed that yet
Ye might with US delay
Al! pardon, if u vain request
Still follows on the way!-
No more We know ye thus we're called,
That ne'cr your youth might be enthralled
With pain and slow decay:
Ye were but sent, as dreams, TO win
Our hearts away from earth and sin