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And thoughts which sprang from virtue's The softest sounds that Music flings,

source,

In all its glances shone:

Orbs of more brilliant light I've seen, But none more tenderly serene.

Nor was the language of thy soul
Less mutely eloquent

In smiles that banish'd grief's control,
Or hues that came and went
In changeful beauty o'er that check,
Telling far more than words could spcak
Of feelings innocent:

Of truth, of tenderness, of love-
Which Virtue could not but approve.

In passing, from her heaven-plum'd wings,
Are trackless in their flight!

And thus life's sweetest bliss is known
To silent, grateful thought alone.

But is it not, from hence, more pure, Ethereal, and divine?

Yea! and its essence will endure

When stars have ceas'd to shine. Time may the glowing canvass stain, Oblivion quench the poet's strain; But virtues which entwine Their memory with undying love, Endure unchangeably above.

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