But vain the wish-for dark Oblivion's gloom
Invades thy page where countless charms may bloom,
Fancy a dream of brilliant hues may feign,
But Curiosity must sigh in vain.
So when at eve, fair Regent of the night!
On Grs banks I shar'd thy silver light,
Imagination, on excursive wing,
Would paint the raptures of thy fancied spring;
Would see what forms thy pensile orb possess ;
What spotless spirits, heirs of endless bliss!
Till Fancy griev'd to change the angelic themes
For earthly passions and terrestrial dreams.
If cold Oblivion wrap each honour'd bust,
If Fate thus lay our proudest hopes in dust,
Is Fame the phrenzy of the maniac's brain?
Has Bacon thought? Has Hampden bled in vain?
Must man, the insect of a summer's day,
But look around the world-then sink away?
Not such the mandate of his birth was given,
"Go-meet the storms of life by Passion driven;
"By Hope beguil'd, and wrung by rancorous hate,
"(Such was the mandate of eternal Fate)
"But not unaided to the strife you go,
"For Reason's buckler shields you from the foe:
"As down the stream of Happiness you glide,
"Truth is your friend, Philanthropy your guide.
"Then let not self absorb the soul sublime,
"Dart the keen glance on every future time.
"Man acts not for himself-his every deed
"Draws the long chain of actions that succeed:
"As o'er the lake the widening rings expand,
"When drops the pebble from the infant's hand,
"Even so thro' every clime, thro' every age,
"His virtues bloom, his vice protracts its rage;
"On every side, with undiminish'd force,
"The impulse of his actions bursts its course,
"So, if a random spark should hovering pass "Where hush'd in slumber rests the nitrous mass, "From grain to grain the madd'ning tempest springs, "Dire Devastation claps her iron wings; "Soon the infuriate thunder spurns controul, "And spires, and fanes, and towers in ruin roll."
Then let not Reason droop, tho' cold decay
May seize the toil of many an anxious day;
Even from the wandering themes of thoughtless youth
Some noble mind may catch the spark of truth;
Some straggling beam may wake the pensive mind
To grace the world, and dignify mankind-
And if, misled by love of vulgar praise,
My feet should tread Ambition's thorny ways,
Straight thy neglected page I shall explore,
Recal thy fate, and dream of fame no more;
But learn to draw, from Reason's warning voice, A purer motive, and a nobler choice.—
Haste then, blest Sage! on airy pinions move,
And bear these tidings to Dd grove.
Say, tho' a dusky veil the treasures hide,
Which many an hour of holy toil supplied,
That even the mystic darkness scatter'd round,
Shall Fancy hallow as thrice-sacred ground.
Shed Inspiration o'er the haunted bowers,
Then wing thy way to join thy kindred powers.
GAZE not, my friend, on Celia's eye, Where thousand loves in ambush wait; Now, while thou can'st, the danger fly, Nor dare, like me, to tempt thy fate.
Those charms I view'd in luckless hour,
Awe struck, as Persians at the sun;
My bosom own'd their instant power,
I did but look, and was undone.
So through the air with winged force
And deadly aim the bullet flies;
Although unseen its trackless course,
The warrior feels it, and he dies.
ALACK! my sweet ladies*! your anguish I see:
O dry up that tear! Did you shed it for me?—
D'ye miss the carnation, that bloom'd on my cheek?
The ringlet, that play'd on my shoulder so sleek?—
The blue-bell, that flourish'd so fair in my eye;
And dimples, where Rapture and Innocence lie?
Fear not! tho' my fond heart now flutters and burns;
All these will return when my lover returns.
For, you know, I've a lover-but far, far away;
Vast seas roll between us, and wild tempests sway!
Alone, in the wilderness, thoughtful he roves,
Or plucks the gilt citron in India's gay groves:-
O spare him, ye tigers, that crouch in the shade!
Ye serpents, that hiss in the untrodden glade!
He ne'er will prove faithless, wherever he be ;
His affections are fix'd-he has fix'd them on me.
* These stanzas were occasioned by a visit of some of the author's female friends to an unfortunate and beautiful young lady in Bedlam.
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