LINES On leaving Neyland, the residence of the Rev. W. Jones. (The Author returning to London.) A GRATEFUL pilgrim's fond adieu, The sole nepenthe of the mind! In vain a different scene I know Me so may some congenial soil ST. JOHN'S COLL. OXON. T. STANZAS WRITTEN IN THE SPRING. RETURNING Spring, with gladsome ray, It smiles, but yet, alas, I weep! And tho' scarce competence content. Sure when no other bliss was mine, But that which still kind Heav'n bestows Yet then could Peace and Hope combine, To promise joy, and give repose: Then have I wander'd thro' the plain, And bless'd each flower that met my view; Thought Fancy's power would ever reign, And Nature's charms be ever new. I fondly thought where Virtue dwelt That those who scorn'd me Time would melt, Enchanting dreams! kind was your art, 'Twas sadness sweeter far than joy. Ah! whence the change, that now alarms, She paints the scene, how different far, From that which youthful Fancy drew; Shows Joy and Prudence oft at war, Our woes increas'd, our comforts few; See in her train cold Foresight move, Shunning the rose to 'scape the thorn, And Prudence every fear approve, And Pity harden into scorn. The glowing tints of Fancy fade, Life's distant prospects charm no more. Alas! are all my hopes betray'd? Ah! what can now my bliss restore? Relentless pow'r! at length be just, Thy better skill alone impart ; Give caution-but withhold distrust, And guard—but harden not my heart. THE TEAR. TO MISS GEDDES. I TALK'D of the woes of the days that are past- How the May-morn of life was with storm overcast, Of hardships and dangers, and many a wrong, Of Treachery's snare, and Ingratitude's tongue Ah! soft form of Beauty that gladdens the soul ! When thy bright-beaming eyes with benignity roll, When dark roll the clouds that o'ershadow our doom, When toils, and when dangers appear,— When the storm-threat'ning waves all their terrors assume, Then the sun-beam of Hope that can break thro' the gloom, O Beauty! must shine thro' a tear. Yes Beauty-thy tear that from sympathy flows, "Tis the balm of all ills, and the cure of all woes; And the heart-rankling wounds of remembrance shall close ONCE on a time, as holy authors* say, A Roman Knight met Catot on the way; "Kind Sir," quoth he, "your speedy counsel lend; "Strange portents are abroad, that fright your friend : "A prodigy I've seen :-last night a rat "Eat my old shoe-what think you, Sir, of that? "My wife is sick :-and hence I surely spy "She will recover, or myself will die." Thus spake the knight, and thus the seer began, * St. Augustin. ✦ Cato was one of the College of Augurs. |