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Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his Father and his God.
HYMN to ADVERSITY.
DAUGHTER of JovE, relentless pow'r,
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' wee
Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer-friend, the flatt'ring foe;
By vain Prosperity receiv'd,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd.
Wisdom, in sable garb array'd,
Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy solemn steps attend:
Warm Charity, the gen'ral friend,
With Justice, to herself severe,
And Pity, dropping soft the sadly pleasing tear.
Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head,
With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien,
Thy form benign, oh Goddess! wear,
What others are, to feel, and know myself a man.
ODE on a distant Prospect of ETON COLLEGE.
YE distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the wat'ry glade,
Where grateful science still adores
And ye that from the stately brow
Of WINDSOR's heights th' expanse below
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
Iis silver-winding way.
Ah happy hills, ah pleasing shade,
Ah fields belov'd in vain,
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales, that from ye blow,
A momentary bliss bestow;
As waving fresh their gladsome wing,
Say, father THAMES, (for thou hast seen
Full many a sprightly race,
Who foremost now delights to cleave
To chase the rolling circle's speed,
While some, on earnest business bent, Their murm'ring labours ply,
'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty:
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,
Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed,
Alas, regardless of their doom,
No sense have they of ills to come,
Yet see how all around them wait
The ministers of human fate,
And black misfortune's baleful train!
These shall the fury-passions tear, The vultures of the mind,
Disdainful anger, pallid fear,
And shame that sculks behind;
Ambition this shall tempt to rise,
The stings of falsehood those shall try,
Lo, in the vale of years beneath
A grisly troop are seen,
The painful family of death,
More hideous than their queen :
This racks the joints, this fires the veins,
That every labouring sinew strains,
Those in the deeper vitals rage:
Lo, poverty, to fill the band,
That numbs the soul with icy hand,
And slow-consuming age.
To each his suff'rings: all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan;
The tender for another's pain,
Th' unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate! Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise. No more; where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
ODE on the DEATH of a FAVOURITE CAT,
Drowned in a Tub of Gold-Fishes.
'Twas on a lofty vase's side,
Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
The coat that with the tortoise vies,
Still had she gaz'd: but 'midst the tide,
The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize :
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Eight times emerging from the flood
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd: