ODE TO HOPE. I. 1. O THOU! who glad'st the pensive soul, Where desolation frowns, and tempests howl; O come, and be once more my guest! Come! for thou oft thy suppliant's vow hast heard, And oft, with smiles indulgent, cheered And soothed him into rest. I. 2. Smit by thy rapture-beaming eye, Deep flashing through the midnight of their mind, The sable bands combined, Where Fear's black banner blots the troubled sky, Appalled retire. Suspicion hides her head, With speed unwonted, Indolence upsprings, And sullen glides away. I. 3. Ten thousand forms, by pining Fancy viewed, Dissolve. Above the sparkling flood, When Phoebus rears his awful brow, From lengthening lawn and valley low The troops of fen-born mists retire. The joyous swain Eyes the gay villages again, While, on the billowy ether borne, Wantons on silken wing. And goblins all Shoot to the desart realms of their congenial Night. II. 1. When first, on Childhood's eager gaze, Life's varied landscape, stretched immense around, Starts out of night profound, Thy voice incites to tempt the untrodden maze. His wingy nerves to climb. II. 2. Pursue thy pleasurable way, Safe in the guidance of thy heavenly guard, L While melting airs are heard, And soft-eyed cherub forms around thee play : Simplicity, in careless flowers arrayed, 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-morrow the gay scene deforms; The thunder's sound Rolls, rattling on, through heaven's profound, And down rush all the storms. Ye days, that balmy influence shed, In paths of pleasure sported lightly, Whither, ah, whither whither are ye fled! Ye cherub train, that brought him on his way, O leave him not midst tumult and dismay! For now youth's eminence he gains: But what a weary length of lingering toil remains! III. 1. They shrink, they vanish into air. Now Slander taints with pestilence the gale; The wail of Woe, and groan of grim Despair. Darts quick destruction in each baleful glance ; Pale, withered Care his giant-stature rears, To grasp its feeble prey. |