_Lost in the Duchess of Gordon East Indiaman, off the Cape of Good
Hope_.

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Lovely as are the wide and sudden calms
Upon a lake, when all the waters rise,
To smooth each undulation, and present
A plain of molten silver--is the hope,
Dear Edward, of thy safety--which now comes
To fill, expand, and elevate my heart--
String every nerve, and give to every vein,
A warmer and a sweeter sense of life!

Welcome, oh! welcome, that most healing hope,
Pouring abroad an efficacious ray
Into the aching bosom!--Tidings sweet
Those of such prompt return, with wisdom gain'd
By suffering, but with all thy innocence,
All thy accustomed gaiety of heart,
And all thy deep, quick sensibilities!
Those gems of virtue, which concentre still
In narrow limits, stores of moral wealth
Beyond all estimate--whose value known,
The dealer sells his other merchandize;
His ivory and curious workmanship,
The silkworm's product and the cloth of gold,
To purchase that imperishable store,
More highly prized than all!--Possessing all