Nor doth the example fail to cheer Fall, rosy garlands, from my head! Ye myrtle wreaths, your fragrance shed Around a younger brow! Yet will I temperately rejoice; Wide is the range, and free the choice Which, haply, kindred souls may prize And passion's feverish dreams. For deathless powers to verse belong, But some their function have disclaimed. Not such the initiatory strains Trembled the groves, the stars grew pale, Of nature was withdrawn! Nor such the spirit-stirring note And not unhallowed was the page Love listening while the Lesbian Maid O ye, who patiently explore One precious, tender-hearted scroll That were, indeed, a genuine birth Of poesy; a bursting forth Of genius from the dust! What Horace gloried to behold, What Maro loved, shall we unfold? Can haughty Time be just? ODE TO LYCORIS. MAY 1817. I. AN age hath been when Earth was proud To be sustained; and mortals bowed Who then, if Dian's crescent gleamed, II. In youth we love the darksome lawn Then, Twilight is preferred to Dawn, Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Thee, thee my life's celestial sign!) Pleased with the harvest hope that runs Before the path of milder suns; Pleased while the sylvan world displays Its ripeness to the feeding gaze; Pleased when the sullen winds resound the knell Of the resplendent miracle. III. But something whispers to my heart That, as we downward tend, Lycoris! life requires an art To which our souls must bend; Then welcome, above all, the Guest Whose smiles, diffused o'er land and sea, Of youth into the breast: May pensive Autumn ne'er present A claim to her disparagement! While blossoms and the budding spray Inspire us in our own decay; Still, as we nearer draw to life's dark goal, ODE TO DUTY. "Tam non consilio bonus, sed more eò perductus, ut non tantum rectè facere possim, sed nisi rectè facere non possim." STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free ; And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Long may the kindly impulse last! But Thou, if they should totter, teach them to stand fast! Serene will be our days and bright, And happy will our nature be, When love is an unerring light, And joy its own security. And they a blissful course may hold Even now, who, not unwisely bold, Live in the spirit of this creed; Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. |