Nor to the suppliant's wail resound; The open doors the needy bless, Th' unfriended hail their calm recess, And gladness smiles around. There to the sympathetic heart To mitigate the mourner's smart, Q yet, ere Pleasure plant her snare Ere Flattery her song prepare O may his country's guardian Power And bright, inspiring dreams impart; Exalt, and warm the heart. Swift to reward a Parent's fears, Roll on in peace, ye blooming years, When in his finish'd form and face. Each patrimonial charm combined, The courteous yet majestic mien, The great and gentle mind. Yet, though thou draw a nation's eyes, And win a nation's love, Let not thy towering mind despise The village and the grove. Nor slander there shall wound thy fame, No ruffian take his deadly aim, No rival weave the secret snare: For Innocence with angel smile, Simplicity that knows no guile, And Love and Peace are there. When winds the mountain oak assail, And lays its glories waste, Content may slumber in the vale, Unconscious of the blast. Through scenes of tumult while we roam, The heart, alas! is ne'er at home, It hopes in time to roam no more; Combats the storm, and rides the wave, To rest at last on shore. Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe, How vain your mask of state ! The good alone have joy sincere, The good alone are great: Great, when, amid the vale of peace, They bid the plaint of sorrow cease, And hear the voice of artless praise; While shouting nations gaze. TO THE RIGHT HON. LADY CHARLOTTE GORDON, WHY, Lady, wilt thou bind thy lovely brow Thou knowest that virtue is of power the source, We own their empire, while we feel their force, The plumy helmet, and the martial mien, THE HERMIT. At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still, “Ah why, all abandon'd to darkness and wo, "Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn; "O soothe him, whose pleasures like thine pass away: "Full quickly they pass....but they never return. |