PRESIDING FOR THE LAST TIME AT THE FESTIVAL OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY

If in the fluttering music of that tongue
Some trace of years, through which its accents grew
Sweet amidst forms of beauty, should renew
An old regret that spirits ever young
Must, as they verge on regions whence they sprung,
Pay in expression's weaken'd force the due
To frail mortality by which alone
They speak to earth, our hearts attend its tone
With eagerness more rapt than when it flung
Abroad the vigorous truth by fancy's hue
Imbued-for, as the seeds from o'erblown flowers,
By autumn's gentle breath for spring are sown,
These trembling words, embraced by kindred powers,
Shall glow in pictures distant times shall own.