PHILANDER.
A PASTORAL ELEGY.
Written in May.
The following design was conceived from an idea of the ancients, who supposed the ghosts of the deceased remained during a course of time a kind of intermediate state, called the Elysium Fields, where they were gratified and consoled, by the obsequies and libations they received.
To soothe my lost Philander's shade
Be every fond libation paid!
And every praise his life could boast
Console his love attended ghost!
Each gift that liberal nature yields,
The fairest expanse, the embroider'd fields,
Had lent his lovely mind a grace,
And form'd a charm to desk his face;
But not a flower that paints the mead
With equal sweetness lifts its head.
Let every praise his life could boast
Confess the love attended ghost!
His form, the chestnut's beauteous height,
His mind, the sun's benignant light;
His brow, the lily's polish'd hue,
His eyes, the heaven's celestial blue;
His lips, the rosebud's opening bloom,
His breath, the jass'min's soft perfume;
His heart, the myrtle's constant charm,
As autumn free, as summer warm;
His voice that sooth'd the ear of grief
Soft as the zephyr's balmy breath.
May every praise his life could hope
Console his love attendant ghost!
While o'er the sod fresh roses bloom,
And bending snowdrops grace the tomb;
While weeping willows spread their shade,
And kiss the earth where he is laid;
No other lows shall joy impart,
Or charm this grief devoted heart.
Bright as his living beauties glow'd,
Sweet as his honied accents flow'd,
The fragrant spring glides o'er the bee,
Yet pensive sorrow swells with me!
When glimmering stars illume the skies,
When fair aurora's blushes rise,
When sol extends his golden rays,
I'll soothe the gentle ghost with praise.
CONSTANTIA
Massachusetts Magazine
September 1789, p. 583