"And hugg'd the chain that, glittering on their gaze, "Seems to outshine the pomp of heaven's empy 66 real blaze. "The end and the reward of toil is rest. "Be all my prayer for virtue and for peace. "Of wealth and fame, of pomp and power possess'd, "Who ever felt his weight of woe decrease! "Ah! what avails the lore of Rome and Greece, "The lay heaven-prompted, and harmonious string, "The dust of Ophir, or the Tyrian fleece, "All that art, fortune, enterprise, can bring, If envy, scorn, remorse, or pride, the bosom wring! 66 66 Along yon glittering sky what glory streams! "What majesty attends night's lovely queen! Fair laugh our vallies in the vernal beams, "And mountains rise, and oceans roll between, And all conspire to beautify the scene. * But, in the mental world, what chaos drear! "What forms of mournful, loathsome, furious mien ! "O when shall that eternal morn appear, "These dreadful forms to chase, this chaos dark to clear ! "O Thou, at whose creative smile, yon heaven, "In all the pomp of beauty, life, and light, "Rose from th' abyss; when dark confusion, driven "Down down the bottomless profound of night, "Fled, where he ever flies Thy piercing sight; "O glance on these sad shades one pitying ray, "To blast the fury of oppressive might; "Melt the hard heart to love and mercy's sway, "And cheer the wandering soul, and light him on the way." Stanza 40. "Fancy enervates, while it soothes the heart, "And, while it dazzles, wounds the mental sight: "To joy each heightening charm it can impart, "But wraps the hour of wo in tenfold night, "And often, where no real ills affright, "Its visionary fiends, an endless train, "Assail with equal or superior might, "And through the throbbing heart, and dizzy brain, "And shivering nerves, shoot stings of more than mortal pain. "And yet, alas, the real ills of life "Claim the full vigour of a mind prepared, "Prepared for patient, long, laborious strife, "Its guide Experience, and Truth its guard. "We fare on earth as other men have fared: "Were they successful? Let not us despair. "Was disappointment oft their sole reward? "Yet shall their tale instruct, if it declare, "How they have borne the load ourselves are doom'd to bear. DR. COTTON. THE FIRESIDE.. DEAR Cloe, while the busy crowd, Tho' Singularity and Pride Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside, From the gay world we'll oft retire Where Love our hours employs; If solid happiness we prize, And they are fools who roam; The world hath nothing to bestow, Of rest was Noah's dove bereft, Giving her vain excursions o'er, The disappointed bird once more 1 Tho' fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers, Our babes shall richest comforts bring; We'll form their minds with studious care While they our wisest hours engage, They'll grow in virtue every day, No borrow'd joys! they're all our own, Monarchs! we envy not your state, Our portion is not large, indeed, In this the art of living lies, To want no more than may suffice, And make that little do.. 1 We'll therefore relish with content, To be resign'd when ills betide, And pleas'd with favours given; Whose fragrance smells to heaven. We'll ask no long-protracted treat, Nor grudge our sons, with envious eyes, Thus hand in hand thro' life we'll go, Its checker'd paths of joy and woe With cautious steps we'll tread; Quit its vain scenes without a tear, Without a trouble or a fear, And mingle with the dead. While Conscience, like a faithful friend, And smooth the bed of death. |