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O DĘ TO F E A R.
Hou, to whom the world unknown
With all its shadowy shapes is hewn ;
Ah Fear! ah frantic Fear !
I see, I see thee near.
While Vengeance, in the lurid air,
In earlieft Greece, to thee, with partial choice,
The grief-full Muse addrest her infant tongue ; The maids and matrons, on her awful voice
Silent and pale in wild amazement hung,
Yet he, the Bard * who first invok'd thy name,
Disdain'd in Marathon its power to feel : For not alone he nurs'd the poet's flame,
But reach'd from Virtue's hand the patriot's steel.
But who is he, whom later garlands grace,
Who left a while o'er Hybla's dew: to rove, With trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace, Where thou and Furies shar'd the baleful grove? * Æschylus.
Wrapt in thy cloudy veil th' incestuoas Queen *
Sigh'd the fad call her son and husband heard, When once alone it broke the filent scene,
And he the wretch of Thebes no more appear'd.
O Fear, I know thee by my throbbing heart,
Thy withering power inspir'd each mournful line, Tho' gentle Pity claim her mingled part,
Yet all the thunders of the scene are thine!
ANTISTROPHE: Thou who such weary lengths halt paft, Where wilt thou reft, mad Nymph, at laft? Say, wilt thou shroud in haunted cell, Where gloomy Rape and Murder dwell? Or in fome hollow'd feat, 'Gainst which the big waves beat, Hear drowning seamens cries in tempests brought ! Dark power, with shuddering meek fubmitted Be mine, to read the visions old,
[thought, Which thy awakening bards have told:
And, left thou meet my blafted view,
O thou whose spirit most poffeft
ODE TO SIMPLICITY.
Thou by Nature taught,
To breathe her genuine thought,
Who first on mountains wild,
In Fancy, loveliest child, Tby babe, and Pleasure's, nors'd the powers of song!
Thou, who with hermit heart
Disdain'ft the wealth of art, And gauds, and pageant weeds, and trailing pall :
But com'ít a decent maid,
In Attic robe array'd,
By all the honey'd store
On Hybla's thymy shore,
By her, whose love-lorn woe,
In evening musings flow,