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While some on earnest business bent
Their murmuring labors ply
To sweeten liberty:
And unknown regions dare descry:
And snatch a fearful joy.
Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,
Less pleasing when possest; The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast: Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue, Wild wit, invention ever new,
And lively cheer, of vigor born; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly the approach of morn.
Alas! regardless of their doom
The little victims play;
Nor care beyond to-day:
And black Misfortune's baleful train !
Ah, show them where in ambush stand,
Ah, tell them, they are men !
These shall the fury Passions tear,
The vultures of the mind,
And Shame that skulks behind;
That inly gnaws the secret heart;
And Sorrow's piercing dart.
Ambition this shall tempt to rise,
Then whirl the wretch from high,
And grinning Infamy.
That mocks the tear it forced to flow;
Amid severest woe.
Lo! in the vale of years beneath
A griesly troop are seen, The painful family of Death,
More hideous than their queen:
This racks the joints, this fires the veins,
Those in the deeper vitals rage:
And slow-consuming Age.
Condemned alike° to groan;
The unfeeling for his own.
And happiness too swiftly flies?
HYMN TO ADVERSITY
Τον φρονείν Βρoτους δδώ-
Æsch. AGAM. ver. 181.
DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power,
Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and torturing hour
The bad affright, afflict the best. !
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan
When first thy sire to send on earth
10 To thee he gave the heavenly birth,
And bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore:
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others' woe.
Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
And leave us leisure to be good.
By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Wisdom in sable garb arrayed,
Immersed in rapturous thought profound,
With leaden eye that loves the ground,
With Justice, to herself severe,
Oh! gently on thy suppliant's head,
Dread goddess, lay thy chastening hand ! Not in thy Gorgon terrorso clad,
Not circled with the vengeful bando
With screaming Horror's funeral cry,
Thy form benign, oh goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic train be there
To soften, not to wound, my heart.
Exact my own defects to scan,
ON THE DEATH OF MR. RICHARD WEST°
In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,
And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descanto join;
Or cheerful fields resume their green attireo: