« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
WRITTEN ON NEW-YEAR'S EVE, WHILE THE BELLS
werE RINGING OUT THE OLD YEAR.
AGAiN the smoothly circling year,
Completes its gentle round;
And months with plenty crown'd.
While yet remains the courteous guest,
Unmix'd with grief or fear.
Though age brings up the rear.
Nor heed life's shifting scene.
And leavest my mind serene.
Not yet—but now impends the stroke;
Has summon'd thee away:
In soft oblivion stay.
But then with smiling grace appear,
O smile once more on me;
By some industrious bee.
Fair Cheerfulness, nymph who all nymphs dost
excel; Ah, tell me, sweet Cheerfulness, where dost thou
dwell ? I would search the world round, thee, dear charmer,
to find, And with thy rosy chaplet my forehead to bind.
iv. : Thou ever wert known with Religion to dwell, Aud gild with thy smiles her contemplative cell; With Innocence thou trippest light o'er the green, While the blue sky above shines all clear and serene,
With Philosophy oft thy gay moments were pass'd,
repose ; Unresting Ambition, wild Passion's excess, Anxiety vain, and romantic Distress.
VII. Indeed, giddy Mirth and her frolicsome crew But little, if ever, thy Rosalind knew : Yet my solitude often by thee has been bless'd; My days thou hast brighten'd, and sweeten'd my rest.
VIII. Why then art thou gone ? 0, inconstant as fair, Art thou only a tenant of summer's soft air ? Full well did I hope thy perpetual ray Should gild, with mild lustre, life's most gloomy day.
Sweet songstress, dost thou with sad Philomel fly, To seek in new climes a more temperate sky; While the red-breast all winter continues to sing, And gladdens its snows with the music of spring?
Thou shouldst be through life my companion and
guide, Come sickness, come sorrow, whatever betide; Gift of heaven, to shorten our wearisome way, Through the valley of toil, to the regions of day.
XII. Old Memory often will dwell on a tale That makes the fresh rose in thy garland grow pale : Yet what can he tell, that may justly displease Thee, whose cloud-piercing eye all futurity sees ?
Elpnueva uu bodoyeverv. Hom. Od. xü. Human nature has in all ages been the same; and this has been the complaint of youth against age, and of cheerfulness against melancholy, from the earliest times.