The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, 6 O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, In humble guise; But now the share7 uptears thy bed, Such is the fate of artless maid, By love's simplicity betrayed, And guileless trust; Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid Low i' the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard, On life's rough ocean luckless starred ! 8 Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is given, To misery's brink, Till wrenched of every stay but Heaven, He ruined, sink! Even thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate— Full on thy bloom, Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight, Shall be thy doom! Burns. Let Portugal and haughty Spain And France exult her vines to train Old England has a tree as strong, As worthy of a minstrel's song "Tis not the yew-tree, though it lends Nor birch, although its slender tress As graceful in its loveliness As maiden's flowing hair. "Tis not the poplar, though its height May from afar be seen; Nor beech, although its boughs be dight1 All these are fair, but they may fling Its stem, though rough, is stout and sound ; O'er man and beast below; Its leaf, though late in spring it shares As late and long in autumn wears Type of an honest English heart, But having opened, plays its part 72 UNIVERSAL ORDER. Its acorns, graceful to the sight, For childhood, youth, or hoary age, But prouder yet its glories shine, Oh! then, triumphant in its might, It seems in Heaven's approving siglıt On earth the forest's honoured king! Who will, another tree may sing— Old England's Oak for me! Bernard Barton. 1 Dight, decked, adorned. 2 The zephyr's gentle sigh, the gentle west wind. UNIVERSAL ORDER. All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul; That, changed through all, and yet in all the same, Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; SOLILOQUY ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 73 Lives through all life, extends through all extent; Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, As full, as perfect in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect in vile man that mourns, Cease then, nor order imperfection name : Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear : All nature is but art unknown to thee; All chance, direction which thou canst not see ; All partial evil, universal good; And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear-Whatever is, is right. Pope. SOLILOQUY ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. It must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well! 1. Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! |