Page:1808 Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne.pdf/84



And sometimes all thy pleasing spells employ, To bid affliction own a transient joy: For oft 'tis thine to chase the tear away With soothing harp and melancholy lay; And sorrow feels the magic for a while, And then, with sad expression, learns to smile. Oh! teach me all the soft bewitching art, The music that may cheer a wounded heart: For I would love to bid emotion cease, With sweetest melodies that whisper peace; And all the visions of delight restore, The soften'd memory of hours no more.

Ah! Genius, when thy dulcet measures flow, Then pleasure animates the cheek of woe; And sheds a sad and transitory grace, O'er the pale beauty of the languid face.

But when 'tis thine to feel the pang of grief, Without one melting friend to bring relief; Then, who thy pain shall soften and beguile, What gentle spirit cheer thee with a smile; And bid thy last departing hopes revive, And all thy flattering dreams of rapture live? Oh! turn to Him thy supplicating eye, The God of peace and tenderest charity;