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Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame. Know then this truth, enough for man to know,
Virtue alone is happiness below.
And height of bliss but height of charity.
If then to all men happiness was meante
Order is Heaven's first law, and, this confest, Throned in the centre of his thin designs,
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest. Proud of a vast extent of flimsy lines.
Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, He who, still wanting, though he lives on theft, Lie in three words, — health, peace, and compe
tence. Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left.
But health consists with temperance alone, What future bliss He give thee not to know, And peace, O Virtue ! peace is all thine own. But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.
Fortune her gifts may variously dispose, All nature is but art, unknown to thee,
And these be happy called, unhappy those ; All chance, direction which thou canst not see. But Heaven's just balance equal will appear,
When those are placed in hope, and these in fear. 'Tis education forms the common mind; Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. “But sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed";
“What then, is the reward of virtue, — bread ? Manners with fortunes, humors turn with climes, That vice may merit, 't is the price of toil, Tenets with books, and principles with times.
The knave deserves it when he tills the soil.” Who shall decide when doctors disagree ?
What nothing earthly gives or can destroy, And then mistook reverse of wrong for right.
The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy. That secret rare between the extremes to move,
Honor and shame from no condition rise ; Of mad good-nature and of mean self-love.
Act well your part, there all the honor lies. Ye little stars, hide
Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, your diminished
Is but the more a fool, the more a knave.
Who noble ends by noble means obtains,
Or, failing, smiles in exile or in chains, 'Tis strange the music should his cares employ Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy.
Like Socrates, that man is great indeed. Something there is more needful than expense, What's fame? A fancied life in others' breath. And something previous e'en to taste, - 't is sense.
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs In all let Nature never be forgot,
Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas.
As heaven's blest beam turns vinegar more sour.
Is gentle love, and charms all womankind.
That to be hated needs but to be seen; 'Tis use alone that sanctifies expense,
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw; And knows where faith, law, morals, all began, Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, All end, - in love of God and love of man. A little louder, but as empty quite.
Au angel face in its
And dimpled shoulders; round the rosy
Beneath the drooping lashes, slept as world
POEMS OF FANCY.
Ever let the Fancy roam !
Fancy, high-commissioned ;- send her !
O sweet Fancy ! let her loose ;
Whose lip mature is ever new ?
Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes Where's the eye, however blue,
The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain Doth not weary? Where's the face From all the tenants of the warbling shade One would meet in every place ?
Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Where's the voice, however soft,
Fresh pleasure, unreproved. Nor thence partakes One would hear so very oft ?
Fresh pleasure only ; for the attentive mind, At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth
By this harmonious action on her powers, Like to bubbles when rain pelteth.
Becomes herself harmonious: wont so oft Let then wingéd Fancy find
On outward things to meditate the charm Thee a mistress to thy mind;
Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home
To find a kindred order, to exert
This fair-inspired delight : her tempered powers With a waist and with a side
Refine at length, and every passion wears
A chaster, milder, more attractive mien.
A DREAM OF THE UNKNOWN.
I DREAMED that as I wandered by the way
Bare winter suddenly was changed to spring, Let the winged Fancy roam !
And gentle odors led my steps astray, Pleasure never is at home.
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring JOHN KEATS.
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, IMAGINATION.
But kissed it and then fled, as Thou mightest in
dream. PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION." O BLEST of heaven, whom not the languid There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,
Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, songs
The constellated flower that never sets ;
Faint ox-lips ; tender bluebells, at whose birth Of pageant honor, can seduce to leave
The sod scarce heaved ; and that tall flower that
wets Those ever-blooming sweets, which from the store Of nature fair imagination culls
Its mother's face with heaven-collected tears, To charm the enlivened soul! What though not When the low wind, its playmate's voice, it hears. all
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, Of mortal offspring can attain the heights
Green cow-bind and the moonlight-colored May, Of envied life; though only few possess
And cherry-blossoms, and white cups, whose wine Patrician treasures or imperial state ;
Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day; Yet nature's care, to all her children just, With richer treasures and an ampler state,
And wild roses, and ivy serpentine
With its dark buds and leaves, wandering Endows at large whatever happy man
astray ; Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp,
And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold, The rural honors his. Whate'er adorns
Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. The princely dome, the coluinn and the arch, The breathing marble and the sculptured gold And nearer to the river's trembling edge Beyond the proud possessor's narrow claim, There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt His tuneful breast enjoys. For him the Spring with white, Distils her dews, and from the silken gem And starry river-buds among the sedge, Its lucid leaves unfolds ; for him the hand And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch
Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. With moonlight beams of their own watery Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings; light; And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.