That very law which moulds a tear,*
And bids it trickle from its source,
That law preserves the earth a sphere,
And guides the planets in their course.
FROM scenes of tumult noise and strife,
And all the ills of public life;
From waiting at the great man's gate,
Amid the slaves that swell his state;
From coxcomb poets and their verses ;
From streets with chariots throng'd, and hearses:
From rattling spendthrifts, and their guests,
And dull buffoons with scurvy jests;
From fashion's whims, and folly's freaks;
From shouts by day, and nightly shrieks;
O let me make a quick retreat,
And seek in haste my country seat;
In silent shades forgotten lie,
And learn to live, before I die!
There, on the verdant turf reclin'd,
By wisdom's rule compose my mind;
My passions still, correct my heart,
And meliorate my better part:
Quit idle hope and fond desire, And cease to gaze where fools admire : With scorn the crowd prophane behold Enslav'd by sordid thirst of gold, Nor scorn to bend at such a shrine, While priest of Phœbus and the nine. Nor would I shun the student's toil, But feed my lamp with Grecian oil; Sometimes thro' stoic walks sublime, Up the rough steep of virtue climb; From philosophic heights look down, Nor heed if fortune smile or frown; In wisdom's mantle closely furl'd, Defy the tempest of the world; And scorning all that's not our own, Place every good in mind alone. Then, sliding to an easier plan, Put off the God, to be the man; Resolve the offer'd sweets to prove Of social bowls, gay sports, and love; Give forward life its childish toy, Nor blush to feel, or to enjoy. Yet ever, as by humour led, Each path of life in turn I tread, Still to my first great maxim true, On moderation fix my view; Let her with tempering sway preside O'er pleasure's cup and learning's pride; And by her sage decrees o'er-rule The dogmas of each sturdy school.
Opinion thus may various play,
While reason shines with steady ray,
And casts o'er all the shifting scene
Her sober hue, and light serene.
Be thou my guest, fair daughter of the skies,
Whose blooming face can greater joys bestow,
Than all the flaming treasures that arise
From the refulgent bosom of Peru.
An humble suppliant at thy shrine I'm laid,
For who thy smiles celestial can withstand?
Bring with thy rosy lips the balmy aid;
My drooping heart asks thy enliv'ning hand.
Content I'd dwell on yon bleak mountain's side,
Or hid within the deepest shade below,
So thou but watch the circling purple tide,
Breathe thy perfume and bid my bosom glow.
Depriv'd of thee the splendour of a throne,
With all the charms of royalty are fled;
All sunk beneath the monarch's languid frown,
In vain the di'dem sparkles on his head.
No harmony in sounds, no sweets in spring,
No varying pleasures as the seasons roll,
No banquet to the mind the muses bring,
'Till thou arise, the sunshine of the soul.
Come then, gay goddess, leave thy bright abode,
Since thou can'st give of all our joys the best;
I'll ask no treasures of this earthly globe,
Let me but on thy downy pinions rest.
Westminster Magazine.
CLEAR that cruel doubting brow!
-I'll call on mighty Jove
To witness this eternal vow;
'Tis you alone I love!
"O leave the god to soft repose,
(The smiling maid replies)
" For Jove but laughs at lover's oaths
And lover's perjuries."
By honour'd beauty's gentle power;
By friendship's holy flame :
"Ah! what is beauty but a flow'r,
And friendship but a name!"
By those dear tempting lips, I cry'd;
-With arch ambiguous look,
Convinc'd, my Chloe glanc'd aside,
And bade me kiss the book.
DEAD is the dream of life that calm'd my care,
And dim'd the beam of hope that charm'd despair!
Yet let my soul be firm-pass one short hour,
And Louis scorns the arm of ruffian power.
Adieu thou partner of my woes,
Where spectred silence reigns around;
And nought awakes the dread repose,
But moans that deep with horror sound.
No more these walls my grief shall hear,
And to a captive king reply;
Where morning rose upon his tear,
And night descended on the sigh.
Forbear, my love, these drops to shed,
And joy to think my woes shall cease,
Lo! when the vale of death I tread,
I wander from the storm to peace.
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