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PLEASURES OF HOPE.
t summer eve, when Heav'n's aërial bow
Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below,
Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye,
Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky?
Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?
'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Thus, with delight, we linger to survey,
The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way;
Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath been;
Can Wisdom lend, with all her heav'nly pow'r,
Ah, no! she darkly sees the fate of man
Her dim horizon bounded to a span;
Or, if she hold an image to the view,
Tis Nature pictured too severely true.