Fond he surveys thy mild maternal face, His wingy nerves to climb. Pursue thy pleasurable way, Safe in the guidance of thy heavenly guard, While melting airs are heard, And soft-ey'd cherub forms around thee play : The smile just dimpling on his glowing cheek; With Innocence and Peace, advance, and sing, Frail man, how various is thy lot below! The thunder's sound Rolls rattling on through heaven's profound, Ye days, that balmy influence shed, Ye cherub train, that brought him on his way, For now youth's eminence he gains: But what a weary length of lingering toil remains! They shrink, they vanish into air. Now Slander taints with Pestilence the gale; The wail of Woe, and groan of grim Despair. Darts quick destruction in each baleful glance; Pale wither'd Care his giant-stature rears, And lo, his iron hand prepares To grasp its feeble prey. Who now will guard bewilder'd youth Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage? Such war can Virtue wage, Virtue, that bears the sacred shield of Truth? The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne ; Resigns to tears her angel form. Ill-fated youth, then whither wilt thou fly? No friend, no shelter now is nigh, And onward rolls the storm. But whence the sudden beam that shoots along? Why shrink aghast the hostile throng? Though foes invade, Hope ne'er is wanting to their aid, Who tread the path of truth. 'Tis I who smooth the rugged way, I, who close the eyes of Sorrow, And with glad visions of to-morrow Repair the weary soul's decay. When Death's cold touch thrills to the freezing heart, Dreams of heaven's opening glories I impart, Till the freed spirit springs on high In rapture too severe for weak Mortality." ODE XXIII. то INDEPENDENCE. BY T. SMOLLETT, M. D. STROPHE. THY spirit, Independence, let me share ! A Goddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal Liberty, whose look sublime Hath blanch'd the tyrant's cheek in ev'ry varying clime; What time the iron-hearted Gaul With frantic Superstition for his guide, Arm'd with the dagger and the pall, In Heaven's name urg'd the infernal blow; "The vanquish'd were baptiz'd with blood." ANTISTROPHE. The Saxon prince in horror fled Lull'd by the hoarse resounding main ; And deeply felt th' impression of her charms : He seiz'd th' advantage Fate allow'd, And straight compress'd her in his vigorous arms. STROPHE. The Curlieu scream'd; the Tritons blew Their shells to celebrate the ravish'd rite; Old Time exulted as he flew ; And Independence saw the light. The light he saw on Albion's happy plains, The smiling infant to their charge consign'd; |