And why must murder'd myriads lose their all, Go, wiser ye, that flutter life away, Crown with the mantling juice the goblet high; Weave the light dance with festive freedom gay, And live your moment, since the next ye die. Yet know, vain sceptics, know th' Almighty mind, Nor shall the pile of hope, His mercy rear'd, Shall be by all or suffer'd or enjoy'd. ODES. CELESTIAL HOPE.-Miss Bowdler. FRIEND to the wretch whose bosom knows no joy! CELESTIAL HOPE, thou gift divine! And gild the gloom which shades this mortal state. hour. For from the date of Reason's birth That wond'rous pow'r was given, To soften every grief on earth, To raise the soul from thoughtless mirth, And wing its flight to heaven: Nor Pain nor Pleasure can its force destroy, In every varied scene it points to future joy. II. Fancy, wave thy airy pinions, Spread o'er all thy wide dominions The pleasing dream of youth is o'er; Far other thoughts must now the soul employ, It glows with other hopes, it pants for other joy. III. The trumpet sounds to war; Loud shouts re-echo from the mountain's side, The foaming torrent rolls a crimson tide; The battle seems already won, The vanquish'd hosts before him fly, His heart exults in fancied victory, Nor heeds the flying shaft, nor thinks of danger nigh. Methinks I see him now Fallen his crest-his glory gone- IV. Thro' seas unknown, to distant lands, In quest of gain the bold adventurer goes, Fearless roves o'er Afric's sands, India's heats, or Zembla's snows: And future happy days in long succession rise; V. Hark! the sprightly voice of Pleasure Calls to yonder rosy bower; There she scatters all her treasure, There exerts her magic power. Listen to the pleasing call, Follow, mortals, follow all, Lead the dance, and spread the feast, Now the sprightly minstrels sound, Pleasure's voice is heard around, And Pleasure's sprightly voice the hills and dales resound.. |