« EelmineJätka »
And ancient towers crown his brow,
That caft an awful look below;
Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps,
And with her arms from falling keeps ;
So both a safety from the wind
On mutual dependence find.
'Tis now the raven’s bleak abode ;
'Tis now th' apartment of the toad ;
And there the fox securely feeds;
And there the pois'nous adder breeds,
Conceal'd in ruins, moss and weeds :
While, ever and anon, there falls
Huge heaps of hoary moulder'd walls,
Yet time has been, that lifts the low,
And level lays the lofty brow,
Has seen this broken pile compleat,
Big with the vanity of state ;
But transient is the smile of fate;
A little rule, a little sway,
A sun-beam in a winter's day,
Is all the proud and mighty have
Between the cradle and the grave.
And see the rivers how they run,
Through woods and meads, in shade and fun,
Sometimes swift, fometimes flow,
Wave succeeding wave, they go
A various journey to the deep,
Like human life to endless sleep!
Thus is nature's vefture wrought,
To inftruct our wand'ring thought;
Thus she dresses
gay, To disperse our cares away.
Ever charming, ever new,
When will the landskip tire the view!
The fountain's fall, the river's flow,
The woody vallies, warm and low;
The windy summit, wild and high,
Roughly rushing on the sky;
The pleasant feat, the ruin'd tow's,
The naked rock, the shady bow'r;
The town and village, dome, and farm,
Each give each a double charm,
As pearls upon an Æthiop's arm.
See on the mountain's southern fide,
Where the prospect opens wide,
Where the evening gilds the tide;
How close and small the hedges lie!
What streaks of meadows cross the eye!
A step methinks may pass the stream;
So little diftant dangers seem ;
So we mistake the future's face,
Eyed through hope's deluding glass;
summits soft and fair,
Clad.in colours of the air,
Which to those who journey near,
Barren, brown, and rough appear;
Still we tread the same coarse way,
The present's still a cloudy day.
O may I with myself agree,
And never covet what I see!
Content me with an humble shade,
My passions tam’d, my wishes laid;
For while our wishes wildly roll,
We banish quiet from the soul ;
'Tis thus the busy beat the air;
And misers gather wealth and care.
Now, ev’n now, my joys run high,
As on the mountain-turf I lie;
While the wanton Zephyr sings,
And in the vale perfumes his wings;
While the waters murmur deep;
While the shepherd charms his sheep;
While the birds unbounded Ay,
And with music fill the sky,
Now, ev'n now, my joys run high.
Be full, ye courts, be great who will,
Search for Peace with all your skill;
Open-wide the lofty door,
Seek her on the marble floor,
In vain you search, he is not there;
In vain search the domes of care!
Grafs and flowers Quiet treads,
On the meads and mountain-heads,
Along with Pleasure, close ally'd,
Ever by each other's side:
And often, by the murm'ring rill,
Hears the thrush, while all is still,
Within the groves of Grongar Hill.
AUGHTER of Jove, relentless power,
Thou Tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour,
The bad affright, afflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy fire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, design’d,
To thee he gave the heav'nly birth,
And bade thee form her infant mind.
Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore :
What forrow was, thou bad'ft her know,
And from her own she learn'd to melt at other's woe.
Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe;
By vain Prosperity receiv’d,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd.
Wisdom in fable garb array'd,
Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy folemn steps attend :
Warm Charity, the gen’ral friend,
With Justice to herself severe,
And Pity, dropping soft the fadly-pleasing tear.
Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head,
Dread goddess, lay thy chaltning hand !
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Nor circled with the vengeful band
(As by the impious thou art seen)
With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien,
With screaming Horror's funeral cry,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.
Thy form benign, oh Goddess, wear
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philosophic train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart.
The gen?rous spark extinct revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to fcan,
What others are, to feel, and know myself a man.
E diftant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores
Her Henry's holy shade;
And ye, that from the stately brow
Of WINDSOR's heights th' expanse below
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
His filver-winding way.