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Updated: June 29, 2025
First, Love, by Friendship mellow'd into bliss, Lights the warm glow, and sanctifies the kiss; When, fondly welcomed to the accustom'd seat, In sweet complacence wife and husband meet; Look mutual pleasure, mutual purpose share, Repose from labours to unite in care! Ambition! Does Ambition there reside?
It is a feeling similar to that which Lord Byron has so finely described, as arising from the beauty of moonlight scenery: "Mellow'd to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." The Dutch and Flemish school, to which you next advance, possesses merit, and is distinguished by a character of a very different description.
"When my soul boiled within me when 'to die' Was all my prayer and death was sweetness, yea, Had they but stoned me like a dog, I'd blessed them; Then no man rose against me but when time Brought its slow comfort when my wounds were scarred All my griefs mellow'd, and remorse itself Judged my self-penance mightier than my sins, Thebes thrust me from her breast, and they, my sons, My blood, mine offspring, from their father shrunk: A word of theirs had saved me one small word They said it not and lo! the wandering beggar!"
Many of us know how closely, and with what a fatherly interest, he has followed all our later history. And now his life has closed, in great physical weakness, but happily unaccompanied by distress or suffering: "'Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long.
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