[From Vanity of Human Wishes.] WISDOM'S PRAYER. WHERE then shall Hope and Fear their objects find? Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind? Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise; No cries invoke the mercies of the skies ? Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain, Which Heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain. Still raise for good the supplicating voice, But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice, Safe in His power, whose eyes discern afar The secret ambush of a specious prayer; Implore His aid, in His decisions rest, Secure whate'er He gives, He gives the best. Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the skies aspires, Pour forth thy fervors for a healthful mind, Obedient passions, and a will resigned: For love, which scarce collective man can fill; For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill; For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, Counts death, kind Nature's signal of retreat: These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain, These goods He grants, who grants the power to gain; With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find. [From Vanity of Human Wishes.] ON what foundation stands the How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide: A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labors tire; O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, Unconquered lord of pleasure and of pain. No joys to him pacific sceptres yield, War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; Behold surrounding kings their powers combine, And one capitulate, and one resign; Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; "Think nothing gained," he cries. "till naught remain, And Winter barricades the realms of The sober trader at a tattered cloak frost; Wakes from his dream, and labor for a joke; He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay; Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa's day! The vanquished hero leaves his broken bands, And shows his miseries in distant lands; Condemned a needy suppliant to wait, While ladies interpose and slaves debate. But did not Chance at length her error mend? Did no subverted empire mark his end? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound, BEN JONSON. TO CELIA. DRINK to me only with thine eyes, I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; The thirst that from the soul doth But thou thereon didst only breathe rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, 1 swear, Not of itself but thee! No, yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Thus ye teach us, every day, Bards of passion and of mirth Pillowed upon my fair love's ripen-Ye have souls in heaven too, ing breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest; Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, Double-lived in regions new! FANCY. EVER let the fancy roam; And so live ever,- or else swoon to Pleasure never is at home; death. ODE ON THE POETS. BARDS of passion and of mirth ous At a touch sweet pleasure melteth Open wide the mind's cage-door,→ And the parle of voices thunderous; Blushing through the mist and dew, Cloys with tasting. What do then? [her. To banish Even from her sky. Distant harvest-carols clear,- Sweet birds antheming the morn; Shaded hyacinth, alway Sapphire queen of the mid-May; When the bee-hive casts its swarm; [From Endymion.] BEAUTY'S IMMORTALITY. A THING of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon [dils For simple sheep; and such are daffoWith the green world they live in; and clear rills That for themselves a cooling covert make 'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest |