The undulating mantle of the mead,
And heaven's gay robe, a dark, unmingled mass is
There glows in man a principle innate, Of powerful bias, which to good, or ill, Low, or exalted, must direct his state, And one fix'd purpose of the soul fulfil, As early choice, to habit grown, shall will; If, like the lark that mounts the orient beam, His wing he not expand, aspiring still
To wisdom's sun, whence light and beauty stream, He sinks in murky caves, where owls and ravens
Youth is life's spring, the seed time, when the mind Fosters each new idea planted there;
If we neglect to sow the grain refined, No future pains can raise a harvest fair; And memory, warm and soft in early year As yielding wax, disused, grows cold and hard, Nor aught retains of each impression rare, Which, when retain'd, acquire the high reward Bestow'd by star-crown'd Fame on timely studious bard.
Mild Sensibility, whose trembling light
Has rarely fail'd to shine in youthful breast, Resisted, chill'd, withdraws her influence bright From the dull spirit in its stagnant rest;
She flies! and with her flies each lovely guest, From her deriving all their noblest powers, Genius and Truth, in sun-gilt mantle dress'd, Love, Friendship, Pity, all that speed the hours, And strew the path of life with ever blooming flowers.
SEE, where the falling day In silence steals away,
Behind the western hills withdrawn; Her fires are quench'd, her beauty fled, With blushes all her face o'erspread, As conscious she had ill fulfill'd The promise of the dawn! Another morning soon shall rise, Another day salute our eyes
As smiling and as fair as she, And make as many promises; But do not thou the tale believe, They're sisters all, and all deceive.
THE BLIND ASYLUM, LIVERPOOL.
STRANGER, pause-for thee the day
Smiling pours its cheerful ray,
Spreads the lawn and rears the bower, Lights the stream and paints the flower. Stranger, pause-with soften'd mind Learn the sorrows of the Blind ; Earth and seas and varying skies Visit not their cheerless eyes.
Not for them the bliss to trace The chisel's animating grace; Nor on the glowing canvass find The poet's soul, the sage's mind.
Not for them the heart is seen
Speaking through the expressive mien; Not for them are pictured there Friendship, pity, love sincere.
Helpless, as they slowly stray, Childhood points their cheerless way, Or the wand exploring guides Faltering steps, where fear presides. Yet for them has Genius kind Humble pleasures here assign'd; Here with unexpected ray Reach'd the soul that felt no day. Lonely blindness here can meet Kindred woes and converse sweet; Torpid once, can learn to smile Proudly o'er its useful toil.
He who deign'd for man to die Oped on day the darken'd eye; Humbly copy-thou canst feel- Give thine alms-thou canst not heal.
ADVICE TO A YOUNG LADY.
CELIA, I read thy melting eye,
Thy check'd yet stealing sighs I hear; See from thy cheek the roses fly,
Or doubly glow when Damon's near.
Ah, not from that seducing glance Too rashly drink the nectar'd bane! Avoid him in the graceful dance, Nor listen to his warbled strain! VOL. I.
It helps not, it avails not there,
Thy beauty's rising power to charm; That his pleased senses own thee fair
Is yet thy too triumphant harm.
Ne'er to the sacred marriage shrine Thee shall the haughty Damon lead; O lost, if still that heart of thine On latent hopeless wishes feed!
Long shall thy love-lit eyes be dim
If soon thou art not bravely free; The dart shall not be barbed for him, Which surely shall be barbed for thee. Amid the busy scenes of life
Proud Damon shall thy image lose, Forgotten in Ambition's strife,
Eclipsed by Grandeur's dazzling views.
While thou supine in sullen shades Shalt pale and sullen willows weave, Swelling the list of hapless maids
Who sigh disdain'd, neglected grieve.
O, then in time from future woes A shield in resolution seek! And twine no more the thorny rose
Mid chains thy juster pride shall break.
Now, while thou mayst the charm dissolve That lightens but with transient ray, Since clouds are gathering to involve This shining, faithless April day.
THE lapse of time and rivers is the same, Both speed their journey with a restless stream; The silent pace, with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe nor prayers persuade to stay; Alike irrevocable both when past,
And a wide ocean swallows both at last. Though each resemble each in every part, A difference strikes at length the musing heart: Streams never flow in vain; where streams abound, How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd! But time, that should enrich the nobler mind, Neglected leaves a weary waste behind.
SERAPH of Truth! (Thou who to Imlah's son, Micaiah, seer of the Most High, didst show The lying spirit, from the throne of God Sent forth, to lure with language of fair hope Ahab, death-doom'd, to Ramoth,) O! vouchsafe A moment of thy lustre to mine eye,
Else dark; and guide me, inexpert and weak, Through argument, to mortal phantasie Inscrutable, save with celestial aid.
Arduous the task to fix the wilful mind Of heedless man! and lead intelligence To its prime source, the One Great Infinite, The First, Supreme, Essential Excellence, Glory of Glories! Majesty of Might!—
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