In gay succession to his ravish'd eyes ΤΟ The midnight moon serenely smiles, Now ev'ry passion sinks to rest, In silence hush'd, to reason's voice, Come while the peaceful scene invites, Let's search this ample round; Where shall the lovely fleeting form Of happiness be found? Does it amidst the frolic mirth How oft the laughing brow of joy And through the cloister's deep recess, In vain through beauty, fortune, wit, It dwells not in the faithless smile, Perhaps the joy to these deny'd, Howe'er our varying notions rove, O! blind to each indulgent aim, Vain is alike the joy we seek, The passions into peace. To temper'd wishes, just desires, And deaf to folly's call, attends The music of the mind. ΤΟ Say, dear Emilia, what untry'd delight Is life thy passion?-let it not depend On flutt'ring pulses, and a fleeting breath: This world, deceitful idol of thy soul, To speed his conquests flies the rapid hour. This verdant earth, these fair surrounding skies, Are all the triumphs of his wasteful reign : 'Tis but to set,—the brightest suns arise ; 'Tis but to wither,-blooms the flow'ry plain. "Tis but to die, mortality was born; Nor struggling folly breaks the dread decree: Then cease the common destiny to mourn, Nor wish thy nature's laws revers'd for thee. The sun that sets, again shall gild the skies, The faded plain reviving flow'rs shall grace; But hopeless fall, no more on earth to rise, The transitory forms of human race. No more on earth-but see, beyond the gloom, Where the short reign of time and death expires, Victorious o'er the ravage of the tomb, Smiles the fair object of thy fond desires. The seed of life below, imperfect lies, To virtue's hand its cultivation giv'n; Form'd by her care, the beauteous plant shall rise, And flourish with unfading bloom in heav'n. TO THE EARL OF BATH. Bright are the beams meridian suns diffuse; Whose cooling drops the wither'd world repair. Bright is our mortal being's noontide state, The glowing breast when new-born spirits fire: When vast designs th' aspiring soul elate, And fair achievements ev'ry wish inspire. While unrelax'd the springs of action play, And gay success on raptur'd fancy smiles, She bids all dangers, and all doubts give way, To crown the hero's, or the statesman's toils. Untaught what cross events the wise confound, How time and chance the boast of pow'r deride, Exulting hope o'erleaps the fatal bound, By imperfection fix'd to human pride. Subdu'd at length beneath laborious life, Yet not in flow'ry indolence reclin'd, They waste th' important gift of sober hours: To ev'ry state has heav'n its task assign'd; To ev'ry task assign'd its needful pow'rs. Within the fun'ral cypress' awful gloom, Shall pleasure her fantastic garlands wreathe? Shall giddy mirth profane the neighb'ring tomb, And folly riot in the vale of death? For better purposes, to favour'd man Is length of days, tremendous blessing! giv'n; For oft, alas! amidst our fairest aim, Oft too, by inconsistent crouds misled, Our devious steps through winding mazes stray: How few the simple path of duty tread, And steadfast keep their heav'n-directed way! With calm severity, unpassion'd age Detects the specious fallacies of youth; Reviews the motives, which no more engage, And weighs each action in the scale of truth. The soul no more on mortal good relies, But nobler objects urge her hopes and fears, And, sick of folly, views no tempting prize Beneath the radiant circle of the stars. W |