The Huron Chief, and Other Poems

by Adam Kidd


 

STANZAS,

ADDRESSED TO THE HON. AND RIGHT REVEREND CHARLES JAMES STEWART, LORD BISHOP OF QUEBEC.


 

Ere I unstring my fond, devoted lyre,
    Whose faithful throbbings spoke the feeling breast—
Or from the field of poesy retire,
    To seek one little calm of blissful rest;— [Page 214]

Here do I love to mingle with its tone,
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    The parting tone, that softly breathes to thee
This heart’s best wishes—for thy name alone
    Is ever dear to memory, and to me.

And blessed are they who feel Religion’s power
    In Gospel’s truths, by thee so kindly given,
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To cheer the sinking heart in life’s last hour,
    Thou good—thou worthy delegate from heaven.

And, oh! how pleasingly the mind surveys
    Thy tender friendship, oft on me bestowed,
Throughout a sunny lapse of happier days,
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    When this wrecked heart with pure devotion glowed.

Had nature formed me of another cast—
    Or chilled imagination’s burning power—
Still moping o’er the Fathers had I passed,
    In dullest gloom, the long and cheerless hour! [Page 215]
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But I repine not—in the Muses’ train
    I love to follow—taught by fancy’s call
To wake a doleful dirge, or pleasing strain,
    As joy, or woe, alternately may fall!

The mind, alone the standard of the man,
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    If rightly managed, all our bliss secures—
And clearly shows, that wise, that holy plan,
    By which Omnipotence our peace ensures.

Farewell, my Lord, until another page
    Shall ope its spotless bosom to my pen—
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When on the pleasing task I will engage,
    To sing thy worth—thou kindest, best of men.



THE END.
[Page 216]