A Wish

Lo! through the dusky silence of the groves,

Thro' vales irriguous, and thro' green retreats,

With languid murmur creeps the placid stream

       &nbsp       &nbspAnd works its secret way.



Awhile meand'ring round its native fields

It rolls the playful wave and winds its flight:

Then downward flowing with awaken'd speed

       &nbsp       &nbspEmbosoms in the Deep!



Thus thro' its silent tenor may my Life

Smooth its meek stream by sordid wealth unclogg'd,

Alike unconscious of forensic storms,

       &nbsp       &nbspAnd Glory's blood-stain'd palm!



And when dark Age shall close Life's little day,

Satiate of sport, and weary of its toils,

E'en thus may slumbrous Death my decent limbs

       &nbsp       &nbspCompose with icy hand!