Томас Гент (Thomas Gent)

Written to the Lady of Dr. George Birkbeck

Lady unknown! a pilgrim from the shrine
Of Poesy's fair temple, brings a wreath
Which fame and gratitude alike entwine,
Around a name that charms the monster Death,
And bids him pause!—Amidst despairing life
BIRKBECK's the harbinger of hope and health;
When sordid affluence was with man at strife,
He boldly stripp'd the veil, and show'd the wealth
To aged ignorance, and ardent youth,
Of cultured minds—the freedom of the soul!
The sun of science, and the light of truth,
The bliss of reason—mind without control.

Accept this tribute. Lady! and the praise,
As Consort and the soother of his care!
His offspring's pride—his friend's commingled rays,
And every other grace that man has deem'd most rare!

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