That peace which dwells with piety alone; Still on thy steps thro' every stage attend! And purest joy from virtue's sacred source Blest in the thought of many a well-spent day, Blest in the prospect of unbounded bliss, Cheer every hour, and triumph in the last!
- As when a traveller, who long has rov'd Through many a varied path, at length attains Some eminence, from whence he views the land Which late he pass'd; groves, streams, and lawns appear,
And hills with flocks adorn'd, and lofty woods; And ev'ry charm which Nature's hand bestows In rich profusion decks the smiling scene; No more he views the rugged thorny way, The steep ascent, the slippery path, which led High o'er the brink of some rude precipice; Unnumber'd beauties scarce observ'd before At once combine to charm his raptur'd view, And backward turning, oft in transport lost, His toils and dangers past no more are felt, But long and tedious seems the road to come.
Thus oft, when youth is fled, when health decays, And cares perplex, and trifling pleasures cloy, Sick of vain hopes, and tired of present scenes, The soul returns to joys she feels no more, And backward casts her view: then Fancy comes, In Memory's form, and gilds the long-past days, Recalls the faded images of joy,
Paints every happy moment happier still;
But hides each anxious fear, and heartfelt pang, Each pleasure lost, and hope pursued in vain, Which oft o'erspread with gloom the gayest hour,
And taught ev'n youth and innocence to mourn.
O Happiness, in every varied scene,
Thro' toil, thro' danger, and thro' pain, pursued! Yet oft when present scarce enjoy'd; when past, Recall'd to wound the heart, to blast the sweets Yet given to life: how are thy votaries, Misled by vain delusions, thus deceiv'd! Let rising Hope for ever on the wing Still point to distant good, to perfect bliss; While conscious of superior pow'rs, the soul Exulting hears her call, and longs to soar To scenes of real and unfading joy. Yet while on earth, some feeble rays are shed To cheer the mournful gloom: O let not man Reject the proffer'd gift! with innocence And gratitude enjoy'd, each present good Beyond the fleeting moment may extend Its pleasing force.-When Nature's varied charms In all the gayest lustre of the spring
Delight the wond'ring view; while every grove With artless music hails the rising morn, The sportive lambkins play, the shepherd sings, Creation smiles, and every bosom feels
The general joy: O say, from scenes like these Shall not the sweet impressions still remain Of Innocence, and Peace, and social Love, To bless the future hour? When the glad heart
Exulting beats at Friendship's sacred call, And feels what language never can express; While every joy exalted and refin'd,
And each tumultuous passion charm'd to peace, Owns the sweet influence of its matchless power; (That power which ev'n o'er grief itself can shed A heavenly beam, when pleasure courts in vain, And wealth and honours pass unheeded by :) Shall joys like these, on Virtue's basis rais'd, Like Fancy's vain delusions pass away?
O no!-Nor time nor absence shall efface The ever-dear remembrance; ev'n when past, When deep affliction mourns the blessing gone, Yet shall that blessing be for ever priz'd, For ever felt. When heaven-born Charity Expands the heart, and prompts the liberal hand To soothe distress, supply the various wants Of friendless poverty; and dry the tears
Which bathe the widow's cheek, whose dearest hope
Is snatch'd away, and helpless orphans ask That aid she cannot give: say, shall the joy (Pure as the sacred source from whence it springs) Which then exalts the soul, shall this expire ? The grass shall wither, and the flower shall fade, But Heaven's eternal Word shall still remain, And Heaven's eternal Word pronounc'd it blest.
Ye calm delights of Innocence and Peace! Ye joys by Virtue taught, by Heaven approved! Is there a heart, which lost in selfish views Ne'er felt your pleasing force, ne'er knew to share
Another's joy, or heave a tender sigh For sorrows not its own; which all around Beholds a dreary void, where Hope, perhaps, May dart a feeble ray, but knows not where To point its aim; for real good, unknown, While present is pursued, but ne'er attain'd? Is there a heart like this?-At such a sight, Let soft Compassion drop a silent tear, And Charity reluctant turn away
From woes she ne'er shall feel, nor can relieve. But oh! let those whom Heaven has taught to feel The purest joys which mortals e'er can know, With gratitude recall the blessings given, Tho' grief succeed; nor e'er with envy view That calm which cold indifference seems to share, And think those happy who can never lose The good they never knew; for joys like these Refine, ennoble, elevate the mind,
And never, never shall succeeding woes Efface the blest impression; Grief itself Retains it still; while Hope exulting comes Tosnatch them from the power of Time and Death, And tell the soul, They never shall decay.
When Youth and Pleasure gild the smiling morn, And Fancy scatters roses all around,
What blissful visions rise! In prospect bright Awhile they charm the soul: but scarce attain'd, The gay delusion fades. Another comes, The soft enchantment is again renew'd, And Youth again enjoys the airy dreams
Of fancied good.-But ah! how oft ev'n these
By stern Affliction's hand are snatch'd away, Ere yet experience proves them vain, and shews That earthly pleasures to a heavenly mind Are but the shadows of substantial bliss? But Pleasure rais'd by Virtue's powerful charm Above each transient view, each meaner aim, Can bless the present hour, and lead the soul To brighter prospects, rich in every good, Which man can feel, or Heaven itself bestow.
While thus returning o'er the long-past scenes Of former life, the mind recalls to view The strange vicissitudes of grief and joy. O may the grateful heart for ever own The various blessings given; nor dare repine At ills which all must share; or deem those ills From chance or fate (those empty names which veil The ignorance of man) could ever flow;
But warned alike by Pleasure and by Pain, That higher joys await the virtuous mind Than aught on earth can yield: in every change Adore that Power which rules the whole, and gives, In Pleasure's charms, in Sorrow's keenest pangs, The means of good, the hope, the pledge of bliss.
Thou rising Year, now opening to my view, Yet wrapped in darkness, whither dost thou lead? What is Futurity? It is a time
When joys, unknown to former life, may shed Their brightest beams on each succeeding day; When Health again may bloom, and Pleasure smile (By Pain no more allay'd), and new delights
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