What genius fmiles on yonder flood?
What god, in whispers from the wood,
Bids every thought be kind?

IX.

O thou, whate'er thy awful name,
Whofe wifdom our untoward frame

With focial love restrains

;

Thou, who by fair affection's ties
Giv'ft us to double all our joys

And half difarm our pains;

X.

Let univerfal candor ftill,

Clear as yon heaven-reflecting rill,
Preferve my open mind;

Nor this nor that man's crooked ways
One fordid doubt within me raise
To injure human kind.

O DE VI.

HYMN TO CHEERFULNESS.

H

OW thick the fhades of evening close !

How pale the sky with weight of snows!

Hafte, light the tapers, urge the fire,
And bid the joyless day retire.
-Alas, in vain I try within

To brighten the dejected fcene,

While rouz'd by grief these fiery pains
Tear the frail texture of my veins ;
While winter's voice, that ftorms around,
And yon deep death-bell's groaning found
Renew my mind's oppreffive gloom,

Till ftarting horror fhakes the room.
Is there in nature no kind power
To footh affliction's lonely hour?
To blunt the edge of dire disease,
And teach thefe wintery fhades to please?
Come, Cheerfulness, triumphant fair,
Shine through the hovering cloud of care
O sweet of language, mild of mien,
O Virtue's friend and Pleasure's queen,
Affwage the flames that burn my breast,
Compofe my jarring thoughts to rest;
And while thy gracious gifts I feel,
My fong fhall all thy praise reveal.

As once ('twas in Astræa's reign)
The vernal powers renew'd their train,
It happen'd that immortal Love
Was ranging through the fpheres above,
And downward hither caft his eye
The year's returning pomp to fpy.
He faw the radiant god of day,
Waft in his car the rosy May;

The fragrant Airs and genial Hours

Were shedding round him dews and flowers; Before his wheels Aurora pafs'd,

And Hefper's golden lamp was last.

But, fairest of the blooming throng,
When Health majestic mov'd along,
Delighted to furvey below

The joys which from her presence flow,
While earth enliven'd hears her voice,
And fwains, and flocks, and fields rejoice;
Then mighty love her charms confefs'd,
And foon his vows inclin'd her breast,
And, known from that aufpicious morn,
The pleafing Cheerfulness was born.

Thou, Cheerfulness, by heaven defign'd
To fway the movements of the mind,
Whatever fretful paffion springs,
Whatever wayward fortune brings
To difarrange the power within,
And ftrain the musical machine;
Thou, Goddefs, thy attempering hand
Doth each difcordant ftring command,
Refines the foft, and fwells the strong;
And, joining nature's general fong,
Through many a varying tone unfolds
The harmony of human fouls.
Fair guardian of domestic life,
Kind banisher of homebred ftrife,
Nor fullen lip, nor taunting eye,
Deforms the scene where thou art by:
No fickening husband damns the hour
Which bound his joys to female power;
No pining-mother weeps the cares
Which parents wafte on thanklefs heirs :

The

The officious daughters pleas'd attend;
The brother adds the name of friend:
By thee with flowers their board is crown'd,
With fongs from thee their walks refound;
And morn with welcome luftre fhines,
And evening unperceiv'd declines.

Is there a youth, whofe anxious heart
Labors with love's unpitied smart?
Though now he stray by rills and bowers,
And weeping waste the lonely hours,
Or if the nymph her audience deign,
Debase the story of his pain

With flavish looks, difcolor'd eyes,
And accents faltering into fighs;
Yet thou, aufpicious power, with ease
Can't yield him happier arts to please,
Inform his mien with manlier charms,
Inftruct his tongue with nobler arms,
With more commanding paffion move,
And teach the dignity of love.

Friend to the Mufe and all her train,
For thee I court the Mufe again :

Her pomp, her charms, her fondeft art,
Who owes to thee that pleafing fway
Which earth and peopled heaven obey.
Let Melancholy's plaintive tongue
Repeat what later bards have sung ;
But thine was Homer's ancient might,
And thine victorious Pindar's flight:

Thy

Thy hand each Lesbian wreathe attir'd:
Thy lip Sicilian reeds infpir'd:

Thy fpirit lent the glad perfume
Whence yet the flowers of Teos bloom;
Whence yet from Tibur's Sabine vale
Delicious blows the inlivening gale,
While Horace calls thy fportive choir,
Heroes and nymphs, around his lyre.
But fee where yonder penfive fage
(A prey perhaps to fortune's rage,
Perhaps by tender griefs opprefs'd,
Or blooms congenial to his breast)
Retires in defart fcenes to dwell,
And bids the joyless world farewel.
Alone he treads the autumnal fhade,
Alone beneath the mountain laid
He fees the nightly damps afcend,
And gathering ftorms aloft impend;
He hears the neighbouring furges roll,
And raging thunders shake the pole :
Then, ftruck by every object round,
And ftunn'd by every horrid found,
He afks a clue for Nature's ways;
But evil haunts him through the maze:
He fees ten thousand demons rife
To wield the empire of the skies,
And chance and fate affume the rod,
And malice blet the throne of God..

I fing,

O thou, whofe pleafing power Thy lenient influence hither bring;

Compose