48 YOUTH AND AGE. "The fragrant breezes of the new-mown hay; "The lark's shrill matin at returning day; "The spangled gossamer that decks the lawn, "Th' inspiring echo of the hunter's horn; "The lofty oaks, that shade yon mountain ridge; "The murm'ring streamlet, and romantic bridge. "A long farewell! each blessing I resign, "At Fashion's call, with essenc'd beaux to shine; "By time and habit, o'er my bosom 'twin'd; "Where rigid power, and wily priestcraft join'd, "Till Eve's bright star recalls the wand'rer home? YOUTH AND AGE. "Each grey domestic, who will now befriend? "This' ancient Chateau' shelters me for life." VOL. II. E 49 LINES WRITTEN AT AVIGNON. "I pity the man, whose patriotism is not excited on the plains of Marathon ; "and whose piety does not burn with a brighter flame at Iona." Dr. Johnson. WHAT Visit Avignon, and Petrarch forget!* Nor pay to fair Laura the once promised debt? No pilgrimage make to her long-worshipp'd shrine, Nor a chaplet of roses at Vaucluse entwine? *The Author being obliged, with great regret, to quit Avignon, that he might arrive at Paris on a particular day. LINES WRITTEN AT AVIGNON. 51 Once indeed how delightful the theme to rehearse, On their steady attachment by moonlight to dream, And wander alone, near the crystalline stream. Those visions are destin'd for gay twenty-two, As when "La Belle France" first enraptur'd my view; Blest Age! by a thousand reflections endear'd, (As Fancy her fairy-built edifice rear'd ;) Then fresh as the dawn of a bright summer day, And years seem'd as moments, thro' her mystic spell. No Lauras now smile upon wrinkled threescore, Old Time with unerring and merciless dart, Alike chills the feelings, and freezes the heart t; The moral observe, in great Homer is found, Who comparing our race with the foliage around, And each season a fresh generation supplies.* * In the well-known, and beautiful lines, "Like leaves on trees, the race of man is found." 52 LINES WRITTEN AT AVIGNON. Still, still, there remain future objects of joy, In life's ebbing current, the spirits to buoy; Like a Pharos illuming old Ocean's domain, When some long-harass'd vessel the harbour would gain ; As the path of high honour we strictly pursue; When like shadows they sink, as decreed from above, And each tie is dissolv'd of ambition or love, And their charms future Petrarchs extol to the skies; |