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Thou to whose power reluctantly we bend,

Foe to life's fairy dreams, relentless Time, Alike the dread of lover, and of friend,

Why stamp thy seal on manhood's rosy prime ? Already twining 'mid my Thyrsis' hair, The snowy wreaths of age, the monuments of care:

Thro' all her forms, tho’ Nature own thy sway,

That boasted sway thou'lt here exert in vain; To the last beam of life's declining day,

Thyrsis shall view, unmov'd, thy potent reign. Secure to please, whilst goodness knows to charm, Fancy and taste delight, or sense and truth informi Vol. XVI.


Tyrant, when from that lip of crimson glow,

Swept by thy chilling wing, the rose shall fly; When thy rude scythe indents his polish'd brow, And quench'd is all the lustre of his

eye ; When ruthless age disperses ev'ry grace, Each smile that beams from that enchanting face

Then thro' her stores shall active memory rove,

Teaching each various charm to bloom anew, And still the raptur'd eye of faithful love,

Shall bend on Thyrsis its delighted view; Still shall he triumph with resistless power, Still rule the conquer'd heart to life's remotest hour. ODE II.




Wherefore was man thus form'd with eye sublime,

With active joints, to traverse hill or plain, But to contemplate Nature in her prime,

Lord of this ample world, his fair domain ? Why on this various earth such beauty pour’d, But for thy pleasure, man, her sovereign Lord ?

Why does the mantling vine her juice afford

Nectareous, but to cheer with cordial taste ? Why are the earth, and air, and ocean, stor'd

With beast, fish, fowl; if not for man's repast? Yet what avails to me, or taste, or sight,

Exil'd from ev'ry object of delight?

So much I feel of anguish, day and night

Tortur'd, benumb'd; in vain the fields to range Me vernal breezes, and mild suns invite:

In vain the banquet smokes with kindly change
Of delicacies, while on every plate
Pain lurks in ambush, and alluring fate.

Fooll not to know the friendly powers create

These maladies in pity to mankind: These abdicated reason reinstate,

When lawless appetite usurps the mind; Heaven's faithful centries at the door of bliss Plac'd to deter, or to chastise excess.

Weak is the aid of wisdom to repress

Passion perverse ; philosophy how vain! 'Gainst Circe's cup, enchanting sorceress;

Or when the Syren sings her warbling strain. Whate'er or sages teach, or bards reveal, Men still are men, and learn but when they feel.

As in some free and well-poisid common weal

Sedition warns the rulers how to steer, As storms and thunders rattling with loud peal,

From noxious dregs the dull horizon clear; So when the mind imbrutes in sloth supine, Sharp pangs awake her energy divine.

Cease then, ah cease, fond mortal, to repine

At laws, which nature wisely did ordain; Pleasure, what is it? rightly to define,

'Tis but a short-liv'd interval from pain; Or rather each alternately renew'd, Gives to our lives a sweet vicissitude.







Nature! thy genial call I hear,

Which wakes the morn and me,
And seems to strike upon my ear,

Though deaf to all but thee:
To me the hours in silence roll away ;
No music greets the dawn, or mourns the close of day.

To me the sky-larks, pois'd aloft,

In silence seem to play,
And hail no more in warblings soft

The rising dawn of day;
For me in vain they swell their liquid throats,
Contemplative I muse, nor hear the jocund notes,

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