Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view! The pleafant feat, the ruin'd tow'r, See on the mountain's southern fide, So we mistake the future's face Which to thofe who journey near, O may And never covet what I fee! Content me with an humble fhade, } "Tis thus the busy beat the air; While the fhepherd charms his sheep; Now, ev'n now, my joys run high. peace with all your fkill; Open wide the lofty door, Seek her on the marble floor; In vain you search, she is not there; } } CHAP. VIII. HYMN TO ADVERSITY. DAUGHTER of Jove, resentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whofe iron fcourge and tott'ring hour DYER. 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 fend on earth And from her own fhe learn'd to melt at other's woe. Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleafing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noife, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they difperfe, and with them go The fummer friend, the flatt'ring foe; By vain profperity 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, filent made, With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy folemn steps attend Warm Charity, the gen'ral friend, With Juftice to herself fevere, And Pity, dropping, soft the fadly pleafing tear. Oh! gently on thy fuppliant's head, Dread goddefs, lay thy chaft'ning hand? Nor circled with the vengeful band! (As by the impious thou art feen) With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien, Thy form benign, oh! goddefs, wear, Thy philofophic train be there. To foften, not to wound my heart. The gen'rous fpark, extinct, revive, Teach me to love and to forgive; Exact my own defects to scan, What others are to feel, and know myfelf a man. CHAP. IX. GRAY. ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE.. YE diftant fpires! ye antique towers! That crown the wat'ry glade, And, ye that from the ftately brow Of WINDSOR's heights th' expanfe below Of grove, of lawn, of mead furvey, Whofe turf, whofe fhade, whofe flow'rs among Wanders the hoary THAMES along His filver-winding way, Ah! Ah! happy hills; ah! pleafing fhade; Ah! fields belov'd in vain; Where once my careless childhood stray'd, I feel the gales that from ye blow, As waving fresh their gladfome wing, Say, father THAMES! (for thou haft feen To chase the rolling circle's fpeed, Or urge While fome, on earnest business bent, Their murm'ring labours ply 'Gainft graver hours, that bring constraint To fweeten liberty: Some bold adventurers difdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry:, |