The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast: Their's buxom health, of rosy hue, Wild wit, invention ever new, And lively cheer of vigour born; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light, That fly the approach of morn. Alas! regardless of their doom, No sense have they of ills to come, Yet see how all around them wait The Ministers of human fate, And black Misfortune's baleful train: Or Jealousy, with rankling tooth, That inly gnaws the secret heart; And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visaged comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart. Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, 70 To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, And grinning Infamy. The stings of falsehood those shall try, That mocks the tear it forced to flow; And keen Remorse with blood defiled, Lo! in the Vale of Years beneath 75 80 This racks the joints, this fires the veins, 85 Yet, ah! why should they know their fate? 95 Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies. 100 GRAY. THE THREE WARNINGS. THE tree of deepest root is found This great affection to believe, Be pleased to hear a modern tale. When sports went round and all were gay, And looking grave, "You must," 5 10 15 says he, "Quit your sweet bride, and come with me." "With you? and quit my Susan's side? With you?" the hapless husband cried; 20 "Young as I am? 't is monstrous hard- What more he urged I have not heard ; His hour-glass trembled while he spoke, 25 THE THREE WARNINGS. "Neighbour," he said, "farewell; no more To give you time for preparation, And grant a kind reprieve; What next the hero of our tale befell, 45 How long he lived, how wise, how well, How roundly he pursued his course, And smoked his pipe, and stroked his horse, He chaffer'd then, he bought, he sold, His friends not false, his wife no shrew, He pass'd his hours in peace: But while he view'd his wealth increase, Brought on his eightieth year. G And now, one night in musing mood, As all alone he sat, The unwelcome messenger of Fate Half-kill'd with anger and surprise, "So soon, "Surely, my friend, you're but in jest: Since I was here before, "T is six-and-thirty years at least, And you are now fourscore." "So much the worse," the clown rejoin'd; However, see your search be legal; Besides you promised me three warnings, C5 70 75 Which I have look'd for nights and mornings: 80 But for that loss of time and ease, I can recover damages.” "I know," cries Death, "that, at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest: 85 90 |