Wantons on silken wing. And goblins all Shoot to the desart realms of their congenial Night. II. I. When first on Childhood's eager gaze Life's varied landscape, stretch'd immense around, Starts out of night profound, Thy voice incites to tempt th' untrodden maze. His bashful eye still kindling as he views, His wingy nerves to climb. Pursue thy pleasurable way, Safe in the guidance of thy heavenly guard, While melting airs are heard, And soft-eyed cherub forms around thee play: Simplicity, in careless flowers array'd, Prattling amusive in his accent meek And Modesty, half turning as afraid, The smile just dimpling on his glowing cheek! Content and Leisure, hand in hand With Innocence and Peace, advance, and sing; And Mirth, in many a mazy ring, Frisks o'er the flowery land. II. 3. Frail man, how various is thy lot below! To-day tho' gales propitious blow, And Peace soft gliding down the sky To-morrow the gay scene deforms : 'Then all around The thunder's sound Rolls rattling on through heaven's profound, And down rush all the storms. Ye days, that balmy influence shed, When sweet Childhood, ever sprightly, In paths of pleasure sported lightly, Whither, ah whither are ye fled! Ye cherub train, that brought him on his way, For now youth's eminence he gains: But what a weary length of lingering toil remains! III. I. They shrink, they vanish into air. Now Slander taints with pestilence the gale; And mingling cries assail, The wail of Wo, and groan of grim Despair. Lo, wizard Envy from his serpent eye Darts quick destruction in each baleful glance; Pale wither'd Care his giant-stature rears, And lo, his iron hand prepares III. 2. Who now will guard bewilder'd youth Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage? Such war can Virtue wage, Virtue, that bears the sacred shield of Truth? Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car The spoils of Virtue are in triumph bornė; While the fair captive, mark'd with many a scar, In lone obscurity, oppress'd, forlorn, Resigns to tears her angel form. Ill-fated youth, then whither wilt thou fly? No friend, no shelter now is nigh. And onward rolls the storm. III. 3. But whence the sudden beam that shoots along? Why shrink aghast the hostile throng? Lo, from amidst Affliction's night, "Why thus dismay'd? "Though foes invade, 66 Hope ne'er is wanting to their aid, "Who tread the path of truth. "'Tis I, who smooth the rugged way, "I, who close the eyes of Sorrow, "And with glad visions of to-morrow 66 Repair the weary soul's decay. "When Death's cold touch thrills to the freezing heart, "Dreams of heaven's opening glories I impart, "Till the freed spirit springs on high "In rapture too severe for weak Mortality.” |