« PrécédentContinuer »
When dark design invades the cheerful hour,
Vain man, to others' failings ftill fevere,
Yet not one foible in himfelf can find;
But to her own e'en Wisdom's felf is blind.
And teach my heart to comment on my life.
My tutor'd mind from vulgar meanness fave;
BRIGHT o'er the green hills rofe the morning ray,
When young Delight, of Hope and Fancy born,
And thence of life this picture vain defign'd.
"O born to thoughts, to pleasures more fublime "Than beings of inferior nature prove!
"To triumph in the golden hours of time,
"And feel the charms of Fancy and of Love!
"High-favour'd Man! for him unfolding fair "In orient light this native landscape fmiles; "For him fweet Hope difarms the hand of Care, "Exalts his pleafures, and his grief beguiles.
Blows not a bloffem on the breaft of Spring, "Breathes not a gale along the bending mead, "Trills not a fongfter of the foaring wing, "But fragrance, health, and melody fucceed. "O let me fill with fimple Nature live,
66 'My lowly field-flowers on her altar lay, "Enjoy the bleffings that he meant to give, "And calmly wafte my inoffenfive day! "No titled name, no en'vy-teafing dome,
"No glittering wealth, my tutor'd wishes crave; "So Health and Peace be near my humble home, "A cool ftream murmur, and a green tree wave.
"So may the fweet Euterpe not difdain
"At Eve's chafte hour her filver lyre to bring; "The Mufe of Pity wake her foothing ftrain,
"And tune to Sympathy the trembling ftring. "Thus glide the penfive moments, o'er the vale "While floating fhades of dufky night defcend: "Not left untold the lover's tender tale,
"Nor unenjoy'd the heart-enlarging friend. "To love and friendfhip flow the focial bowl! "To attic wit and elegance of mind;
To all the native beauties of the foul;
"The fimple charms of truth, and sense refin'd!
"Then to explore whatever ancient fage
Studious from Nature's early volume drew,
To chafe fweet Fiction through her golden age,
"And mark how fair the fun-flower, Science, blew !
Haply to catch fome spark of eastern fire,
"Hefperean fancy, or Aonian ease;
"Some melting note from Sappho's tender lyre, "Some ftrain that Love and Phoebus taught to please.
"When waves the grey light o'er the mountain's head,
"Then let me meet the morn's first beauteous ray;
'Carelessly wander from my fylvan shed,
"And catch the sweet breath of the rifing day.
"Nor feldom, loitering as I mufe along,
"Mark from what flower the breeze its sweetness bore; "Or liften to the labour-foothing fong
"Of bees that range the thymy uplands o'er.
"Slow let me climb the mountain's airy brow, "The green height gain'd, in mufeful rapture lie, Sleep to the murmur of the woods below,
"Or look on Nature with a lover's eye.
Delightful hours! O thus for ever flow;
"Led by fair Fancy round the varied year: "So fhall my breaft with native raptures glow, "Nor feel one pang from folly, pride, or fear. "Firm be my heart to Nature and to truth,
"Nor vainly wander from their dictates fage; "So Joy fhall triumph on the brows of Youth, "So Hope fhall fmooth the dreary paths of Age.
OH! yet, ye dear deluding Viñions, stay!
Fond hopes of Innocence and Fancy born!
For you I'll caft thefe waking thoughts away,
For one wild dream of life's romantic morn.
Ah! no: the funshine o'er each object spread,
And vanish'd from the powerful rod of Care.
So the poor pilgrim, who in rapturous thought
Ambrofial bloffoms, fuch of old as blew
By thofe fresh founts on Eden's happy plain, And Sharon's rofes all his paffage ftrew:
So Fancy dreams; but Fancy's dreams are vain.
His way unknown, the hapless pilgrim lies,
Where Hope, and Joy, and Fancy hold their reign,
And wandering far from her Platonic shade, Mourns o'er the ruins of her tranfient reign, Nor unrepining fees her vifions fade.
Their parent banifh'd, hence her children fly,
THE EVENING PRIMROSE.
From the Fables of Flora.
THERE are that love the fhades of life,
And shun the fplendid walks of fame; There are that hold it rueful ftrife
To rifque Ambition's lofing game:
That far from Envy's lurid eye
The faireft fruits of Genius rear, Content to fee them bloom and die
In Friendship's fmall, but genial, sphere.
Than vainer flowers, though fweeter far,
And loves its folitary ray.
In Eden's vale an aged hind,
At the dim twilight's clofing hour,
"Ill-fated flower, at eve to blow!"