II. 2. Pursue thy pleasurable way, Safe in the guidance of thy heavenly guard, And soft-eyed cherub forms around thee play : Prattling amusive in his accent meek; The smile just dimpling on his glowing cheek! With Innocence and Peace, advance, and sing; II. 3. Frail man, how various is thy lot below! The thunder's sound Rolls rattling on through heaven's profound, Ye days, that balmy influence shed, Ye cherub-train, that brought him on his way, For now youth's eminence he gains: But what a weary length of lingering toil remains! 1. 3. Ten thousand forms, by pining Fancy view'd, When Phoebus rears his awful brow, From lengthening lawn and valley low, The troops of fen-born mists retire. The joyous swain Eyes the gay villages again, And gold-illumin'd spire; While on the billowy ether borne Shoot to the desert realms of their congenial Night. II. 1. When first on Childhood's eager gaze Life's varied landscape, stretch'd immense around, Starts out of night profound, Thy voice incites to tempt the' untrodden maze. His bashful eye still kindling as he views, His wingy nerves to climb. II. 2. Pursue thy pleasurable way, Safe in the guidance of thy heavenly guard, And soft-eyed cherub forms around thee play: Prattling amusive in his accent meek; The smile just dimpling on his glowing cheek! With Innocence and Peace, advance, and sing; II. 3. Frail man, how various is thy lot below! To-morrow the gay scene deforms: The thunder's sound Rolls rattling on through heaven's profound, Ye days, that balmy influence shed, Ye cherub-train, that brought him on his way, For now youth's eminence he gains: But what a weary length of lingering toil remains! III. 1. They shrink, they vanish into air. Now Slander taints with pestilence the gale; The wail of Woe, and groan of grim Despair. Darts quick destruction in each baleful glance; Pale wither'd Care his giant-stature rears, To grasp its feeble prey. III. 2. Who now will guard bewilder'd youth Virtue, that bears the sacred shield of Truth! Resigns to tears her angel form. Ill-fated youth, then whither wilt thou fly? No friend, no shelter now is nigh: And onward rolls the storm. III. 3. But whence the sudden beam that shoots along? Why shrink aghast the hostile throng? Lo, from amidst Affliction's night, Hope bursts all radiant on the sight; Her words the troubled bosom sooth : "Why thus dismay'd? Though foes invade, Hope ne'er is wanting to their aid, Who tread the path of truth. 'Tis I, who smooth the rugged way, [heart, When Death's cold touch thrills to the freezing Dreams of heaven's opening glories 1 impart, Till the freed spirit springs on high In rapture too severe for weak Mortality." ODE. ON LORD HAY'S BIRTH-DAY. A MUSE, unskill'd in venal praise, For not on beds of gaudy flowers Thine ancestors reclin'd, Where Sloth dissolves, and Spleen devours All energy of mind. |