Theirs be the dreadful glory to destroy, And theirs the pride of pomp, and praise suborn'd, Whose eye ne'er lighten'd at the smile of Joy, Whose cheek the tear of Pity ne'er adorn'd:

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Whose soul, each finer sense instinctive quell'd, The lyre's mellifluous ravishment defies: Nor marks where Beauty roves the flowery field, Or Grandeur's pinion sweeps the unbounded skies.

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Hail to sweet Fancy's unexpressive charm!

Hail to the pure delights of social love!

Hail, pleasures mild, that fire not while ye warm, Nor rack the exulting frame, but gently move!

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But Fancy soothes no more, if stern remorse With iron grasp the tortured bosom wring.

Ah then! even Fancy speeds the venom's course, Even Fancy points with rage the maddening sting.

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Her wrath a thousand gnashing fiends attend, And roll the snakes, and toss the brands of h.e.l.l; The beam of Beauty blasts: dark heavens impend Tottering: and Music thrills with startling yell.

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What then avails, that with exhaustless store Obsequious Luxury loads thy glittering shrine?

What then avails, that prostrate slaves adore, And Fame proclaims thee matchless and divine?

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What though bland Flattery all her arts apply?

Will these avail to calm the infuriate brain?

Or will the roaring surge, when heaved on high, Headlong hang, hush'd, to hear the piping swain?

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In health how fair, how ghastly in decay Man's lofty form! how heavenly fair the mind Sublimed by Virtue's sweet enlivening sway!

But ah! to guilt's outrageous rule resign'd.

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How hideous and forlorn! when ruthless Care With cankering tooth corrodes the seeds of life, And deaf with pa.s.sion's storms when pines Despair, And howling furies rouse the eternal strife.

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Oh, by thy hopes of joy that restless glow, Pledges of Heaven! be taught by Wisdom's lore; With anxious haste each doubtful path forego, And life's wild ways with cautious fear explore.

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Straight be thy course: nor tempt the maze that leads Where fell Remorse his shapeless strength conceals, And oft Ambition's dizzy cliff he treads, And slumbers oft in Pleasure's flowery vales.

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Nor linger unresolved: Heaven prompts the choice, Save when Presumption shuts the ear of Pride: With grateful awe attend to Nature's voice, The voice of Nature Heaven ordain'd thy guide.

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Warn'd by her voice the arduous path pursue, That leads to Virtue's fane a hardy band: What though no gaudy scenes decoy their view, Nor clouds of fragrance roll along the land?

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What though rude mountains heave the flinty way?

Yet there the soul drinks light and life divine, And pure aerial gales of gladness play, Brace every nerve, and every sense refine.

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Go, prince, be virtuous and be blest. The throne Rears not its state to swell the couch of l.u.s.t: Nor dignify Corruption's daring son, To o'erwhelm his humbler brethren of the dust.

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But yield an ampler scene to Bounty's eye, An ampler range to Mercy's ear expand: And, 'midst admiring nations, set on high Virtue's fair model, framed by Wisdom's hand.

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Go then: the moan of Woe demands thine aid: Pride's licensed outrage claims thy slumbering ire: Pale Genius roams the bleak neglected shade, And battening Avarice mocks his tuneless lyre.

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Even Nature pines, by vilest chains oppress'd: The astonish'd kingdoms crouch to Fashion's nod.

O ye pure inmates of the gentle breast, Truth, Freedom, Love, O where is your abode?

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