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Hart! yon deep echo ftrikes the tremhling ear!
See night's dim curtain wraps the darkfome pole!
O'er heav'n's hlue arch yon rolling worlds appear.
And roufe to folemn thought th' afpiring foul.
O lead my steps heneath the moon's dim ray,
Where Tadmor stands all-defert and alone!
While from her time-shook tow'rs the hird of prey
Sounds through the night her long-refounding moan.
Or hear me far to yon dark difmal plain,
Where fell-ey' d tygers, all athirst for hlood,
Howl to the defert; while the horrid train
Roams o'er the wild where once great Bahel stood:
That queen of nations! whofe fuperior call
Rous'd the hroad East, and hid her arms destroy I
When warra' d to mirth, let judgment mark her fall,
And deep reflection dash the lip of joy.
Short is Amhition's gay deceitful dream;
Though wreaths of hlooming laurel hind her hrow;
Calm Thought difpels the visionary fcheme,
AadTime's cold hreath dissolves the withering hough.
Stow as fome miner faps th? afpiring tower,
When workmg fecret with destructive aim;
Unfeen, unheard, thus moves the stealing hour,
But works the fall of empire, pomp, and name.
Then let thy pencil mark the traits of man;
Full in the draught he keen-ey'd Hope pourtray'd ,
Let fluttering cupids crowd the growing plan:
Then give one touch, and dash it deep with made.
Beneath the plume that flames with glancing rays
Be Care's deep engines on the foul imprefs'd;
Beneath the helmet's keen refulgent blaze
Let Grief sit pining in the canker'd breast.
Let Love's gay fons, a fmiling train, appear,
With beauty pierc'd, yet heedlefs of the dart;
While, clofely couch'd, pale sick'ning Envy near,
Whets her fell sting, and points it at the heart.
Perch'd like a raven on fome blasted yew,
Let Guilt revolve the thought-distracting sin;
Scar'd—while her eyes furvey th' ethereal blue,
Let Heaven's strong lightning burst th' dark vitliin.
Then paint, impending o'er th' madd'ning deep,
That rock, where heart-siruck Sappho, vainly brave,
Stood sirm of foul—then from the dizzy steep
Impetuous fprung, and dasiVH the boiling wave.
Here wrapt in studious thought let Fancy rove,
Still prompt to mark Sufpicion's fecret fnare;
To fee where Anguilh nips the bloom of Love,
Or trace proud Grandeur to the domes of Care.
Should e'er Ambition's tow'ring hopes inslame,
Let judging Reafon draw the veil afide;
Or sir'd with envy at fome mighty name,
Read o'er the monument that tells—He dy'd.
What are the ensigns of imperial fway?
What all that fortune's lib'ral hand has brought?
Teach they the voice to pour a fweeter lay?
Or roufe the foul to more exalted thought?
When bleeds the heart as Genius blooms unknown,
When melts the eye o'er Virtue's mournful bier;
Not Wealth, hut Pity, fwells the bursting groan;
Not Pow'r, but whifp'ring Nature, prompts the tear.
Say, gentle mourner, in yon mouldy vault,
Where the worm fattens on fome fcepterM brow,
.Beneath that roof with fculptur'd marble fraught,
Why fleeps unmovM the breathlefs dust below?
Sleeps it more fweetly than the fimple fwain,
Beneath fome mossy turf that rests his head;
Where the lone widow tells the night her pain,
And eve wfch dewy tears embalms the dead?
The lily, fereen'd fromev'ry ruder gale.
Courts not the culturM fpot where roles fpring:
But blows neglected in the peaceful vale,
And fcents the Zephyr's balmy breathing wing.
The busts of grandeur, and the pomp of pow'r,
Can thefe bid Sorrow's gufliing tears fubfide?
Can thefe avail in that tremendous hour,
When Death's cold hand congeals the purple tide?
Ah no! the mighty names are heard no more:
Pride's thought fublime, and Beauty's kindling bloom,
Serve but to fport one flying moment o'er,
And fwell with pompous verfe the -efcutchion'd tomb.
For me—may passion ne'er my foul invade,
Nor be the whims of tow'ring phrenzy giv'n;
Let wealth ne'er court me from the peaceful ihade,
Where Contemplation wings the foul to heav'n 1
Oh, guard me fafe from Joy's enticing fnare!
With each extreme that Pleafure tries to hide,
The poifon'd breath of flow confuming Care,
The noife of Folly, and the dreams of Pride.
But oft, when Midnight's fadly folemn knell
Sounds long and distant from the sky-topt tow'r,
Calm let me sit in Piofper's lonely cell*,
Or walk with Milton through the dark obfcure.
Thus when the transient dream of life is fled,
May fome fad friend recal the former years;
Then, stretch'd in silence o'er my dusty bed,
Pour the warm gulh of fympathetic tears!
* See Shakespeare's Tempest.
Meek Pow'r, -whofe balmy-pinion'd gale
Steals o'er the flow'r-en am el I'd dale!
Whose voice in gentle whifpers near
Oft sighs to Quiet's list'ning ear;
As on her downy couch at rest,
By Thought's infpiring visions blest,
She sits, with white-rob'd Silence n'ght
And musing heaves her ferious eye,
To mark the flow fun's glimm'ring ray,
To catch the last pale gleam of day;
Or funk in fweet repofe, unknown,
I,ies on the wild Mil's van alone;
And fees thy gradual pencil flow,
Along the heaven-illurain'd bow.
Come, Nymph demure, with mantle blue, Thv tresses bath'd in balmy dew, With step fmooth-fliding o'er the green, The graces breathing in thy mien; And thy vesture's gather'd fold Girt with a zone of circling gold;
And bring the harp, whofe folemn flping
Dies to the wild wind's murmuring wing;
And the nymph whofe eye ferene
Marks the calm breathing woodland fcene;
Thought, mountain fage! who loves to climb,
And haunts the dark rock's fummit dim;
Let Fancy, falcon-wing'd, be near:
And through the cloud-envelop'd fphere,
Where mufmg roams Retirement hoar,
Lull'd by the torrent's distant roar,
Oh, bid with trembling light to glow
The raven-plume that crowns his brow.
Lo! where thy meek-ey'd train attend!
Queen of the folemn thought defcend 1
Oh, hide me in romantic DQw'rs!
Or lead my step-to ruin'd tow'rs!
Where gleaming through the chinky door
The pale ray gilds the moulder'd floor: •
While beneath the hallow'd pile,
Deep in the defert lhrieking ile,
Rapt Contemplation stalks along,
And hears the flow clock's pealing tongue;
Or, mid the dun difcolour'd gloom,
Sits on fome hero's peaceful tomb^
Throws life's gay glitt'ring robe aside,
And tramples on the neck of Pride.
Oft ihclter'd by the rambling fprays,
Lead o'er the forest's winding maze;
Where, through the mantling boughs, afar,
Glimmers the silver-streaming star;
And, thow'r'd from ev'ry rustling blade,
The loofe light sloats along the fhade;