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That very law which moulds a tear
And bids it trickle from its source,–
That law preserves the earth a sphere,
And guides the planets in their course.
On a Tear
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More from Samuel Rogers
Mine be a cot beside the hill;
A beehive’s hum shall soothe my ear;
A willowy brook that turns a mill,
With many a fall, shall linger near.
Go! you may call it madness, folly;
You shall not chase my gloom away!
There ‘s such a charm in melancholy
I would not if I could be gay.
To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.
Think nothing done while aught remains to do.
Human Life (1819)
Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.
The Pleasures of Memory. Part ii. i.