Of harmony and bliss, in forms distinct,
Of natures various as the effulgent sun,
Which pours abroad the mighty flood of day,
To the pale glowworm in the midnight shade.

From these sweet meditations on the charms
Of things external; on the genuine forms
Which blossom in creation; on the scene
Where mimic Art with emulative hue
Usurps the throne of Nature unreproved;
Or the just concord of mellifluent sounds;
The soul, and all the intellectual train
Of fond desires, gay hopes, or threatening fears,
Through this habitual intercourse of sense
Is harmonized within, till all is fair
And perfect; till each moral power perceives
Its own resemblance with fraternal joy,
In every form complete, and smiling feels
Beauty and good the same. Thus the first man,
Fresh from creation rising, in the flood
A godlike image saw; with fix'd amaze
He gazed; the’attentive figure from below
Gazed with responsive wonder: did he smile?
The shadowy features dimpled in the waves
Not less delighted; till at length he found
From his own form the external object flow'd,
And moved to his its correspondent charms.

A

FATHER'S ADVICE TO HIS SON.

An Elegy.

IN IMITATION OF THE OLD SONG TO WINIFRIDA.

1758.

aspice vultus
Ecce meos: utinamque oculos in pectore posses
Inserere, et patrias intus dependere curas.

OVID. MET.

DEEP in a grove by cypress shaded,

Where midday sun had seldom shone, Or noise the solemn scene invaded,

Save some afflicted Muse's moan; A swain, towards full-aged manhood wending,

Sat sorrowing at the close of day; At whose fond side a boy attending

Lisp'd half his father's cares away.
The father's eye no object wrested,

But on the smiling prattler hung,
Till, what his throbbing heart suggested,

These accents trembled from his tongue• My youth's first hope, my manhood's treasure,

My prattling innocent, attend,
Nor fear rebuke or sour displeasure:

A father's loveliest name is friend.

• Some truths, from long experience flowing,

Worth more than royal grants, receive; For truths are wealth of Heaven's bestowing,

Which kings have seldom power to give. Since, from an ancient race descended,

You boast an unattainted blood, By yours be their fair fame attended,

And claim by birthright to be good. • In love for every fellow creature

Superior rise above the crowd; What most ennobles human nature

Was ne'er the portion of the proud.
• Be thine the generous heart that borrows

From others' joys a friendly glow;
And for each hapless neighbour's sorrows,

Throbs with a sympathetic woe.
* This is the temper most endearing;

Though wide proud pomp her banners spreads, An heavenlier power good nature bearing

Each heart in willing thraldom leads. · Taste not from fame's uncertain fountain

The peace-destroying streams that flow, Nor from ambition's dangerous mountain

Look down upon the world below. • The princely pine on hills exalted,

Whose lofty branches cleave the sky, By winds, long braved, at last assaulted,

Is headlong whirld in dust to lie; • Whilst the mild rose, more safely growing

Low in its unaspiring vale, Amidst retirement's shelter blowing,

Exchanges sweets with every gale.

Wish not for beauty's darling features,

Moulded by nature's fondling power, For fairest forms 'mong human creatures

Shine but the pageants of an hour. • I saw the pride of all the meadow,

At noon, a gay Narcissus, blow Upon a river's bank, whose shadow

Bloom'd in the silver waves below; · By noontide's heat its youth was wasted,

The waters, as they pass’d, complain'd: At eve its glories all were blasted,

And not one former tint remain’d. · Nor let vain wit's deceitful glory

Lead you from wisdom's path astray; What genius lives renown'd in story,

To happiness who found the way? • In yonder mead behold that vapour

Whose vivid beams illusive play, Far off it seems a friendly taper

To guide the traveller on his way; • But should some hapless wretch, pursuing,

Tread where the treacherous meteors glow, He'd find, too late his rashness ruing,

That fatal quicksands lurk below.
In life such bubbles nought admiring,

Gilt with false light, and fill'd with air,
Do you, from pageant crowds retiring,

To peace in virtue's cot repair;
There seek the never wasted treasure,

Which mutual love and friendship give,
Domestic comfort, spotless pleasure,

And bless'd and blessing you will live.

· If Heaven with children crown your dwelling,

As mine its bounty does with you, In fondness fatherly excelling,

The' example you have felt pursue.' He paused — for tenderly caressing

The darling of his wounded heart, Looks had means only of expressing

Thoughts language never could impart. Now night her mournful mantle spreading,

Had robed with black the horizon round, And dank dews, from her tresses shedding,

With genial moisture bathed the ground; When back to city follies flying

Midst custom's slaves he lived resign'd, His face, array'd in smiles, denying

The true complexion of his mind;
For, seriously around surveying

Each character, in youth and age,
Of fools betray'd and knaves betraying,

That play'd upon this human stage; (Peaceful himself and undesigning)

He loathed the scenes of guile and strife, And felt each secret wish inclining

To leave this fretful farce of life.
Yet to whate'er above was fated

Obediently he bow'd his soul;
For what all bounteous Heaven created,

He thought Heaven only should control.