No more by varying passions beat,

O gently guide my pilgrim feet

To find thy hermit cell;

Where in some pure and equal sky
Beneath thy soft indulgent eye

The modest virtues dwell.

Simplicity in Attic vest,

And Innocence with candid breast,

And clear undaunted eye;

And Hope, who points to distant years,
Fair op'ning thro' this vale of tears

A vista to the sky.

There Health, thro' whose calm bosom glide The temperate joys in even tide,

That rarely ebb or flow;

And Patience there, thy sister meek,
Presents her mild, unvarying cheek
To meet the offer'd blow.

Her influence taught the Phrygian sage
A tyrant master's wanton rage
With settled smiles to meet ;

Inur'd to toil and bitter bread,

He bow'd his meek submitted head,
And kiss'd thy sainted feet.

But thou, Q Nymph retir'd and coy!
In what brown hamlet dost thou joy
To tell thy tender tale;

The lowliest children of the ground,
Moss-rose and violet blossom round,
And lily of the vale.

O say what soft propitious hour
I best may choose to hail thy power,
And court thy gentle sway?

When Autumn, friendly to the Muse,
Shall thy own modest tints diffuse,
And shed thy milder day.

And

When Eve, her dewy star beneath,
Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,
every storm is laid:
If such an hour was e'er thy choice,
Oft let me hear thy soothing voice,

Low whispering through the shade.

ODE TO MORNING.

[ANON.]

THE sprightly messenger of day
To Heaven ascending tunes the lay
That wakes the blushing morn :
Cheer'd with th' inspiring notes, I rise
And hail the power, whose glad supplies
Th' enliven'd plains adorn.

Far hence retire, O Night! thy praise,
Majestic queen! in nobler lays
Already has been sung:

When thine own spheres expire, thy name,
Secure from time, shall rise in fame,

Immortalized by Young.

See, while I speak, Aurora sheds
Her early honours o'er the meads,
The springing vallies smile;
With cheerful heart the village swain
Renews the labours of the plain,

And meets th' accustom'd toil.

Day's monarch comes to bless the year,
Wing'd Zephyrs wanton round his car,

Along th' ethereal road;

Plenty and Health attend his beams,
And Truth, divinely bright, proclaims
The visit of the God.

Aw'd by the view, my soul reveres
The great first cause that bade the spheres
In tuneful order move;
Thine is the sable-mantled night,
Unseen Almighty! and the light
The radiance of thy love..

Hark! the awaken'd grove repays
With melody the genial rays,

And echo spreads the strain;

The streams in grateful murmurs run,
The bleating flocks salute the sun,
And music glads the plain.

While Nature thus her charms displays,

Let me enjoy the fragrant breeze

The opening flowers diffuse; Temp'rance and Innocence attend,

These are your haunts, your influence lend, Associates of the Muse!

Riot, and Guilt, and wasting Care,

And fell Revenge, and black Despair,
Avoid the Morning's light;

Nor beams the sun, nor blooms the rose,
Their restless passions to compose,
Who Virtue's dictates slight.

Along the mead, and in the wood,
And on the margin of the flood
The goddess walks confest:

She gives the landscape power to charm,
The sun his genial heat to warm

The wise and generous breast.

Happy the man! whose tranquil mind
Sees Nature in her changes kind,
And pleas'd the whole surveys;
For him the morn benignly smiles,
And evening shades reward the toils
That measure out his days.

The varying year may shift the scene, The sounding trumpet lash the main, And Heav'n's own thunders roll; Calmly he views the bursting storm, Tempests nor thunder can deform

The morning of his soul.