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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. No 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 not guile, And Love and Peace are there.
When winds the mountain oak assail,
Unconscious of the blast.
Through scenes of tumult while we roam,
To rest, at last, on shore.
Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe,
Wuy, Lady, wilt thou bind thy lovely brow, With the dread semblance of that warlike helm, That nodding plume, and wreath of various glow, That graced the chiefs of Scotia's antient realm?
source, And all her magic to thy eyes is given ; We own their empire, while we feel their force, Beaming with the benignity of heaven.
Thou knowest that virtue is of
The plumy helmet, and the martial mien, Might dignify Minerva's awful charms; But more resistless far the Idalian queenSmiles, graces, gentleness, her only arms.
Ar the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
“ Ah! why thus abandoned to darkness and woe? “ Why thus, lonely Philomel, flows thy sad strain ? “ For spring shall return, and a lover bestow, “ And thy bosom no trace of misfortune retain.