Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way; Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene Can Wisdom lend, with all her heav'nly pow'r, The pledge of Joy's anticipated hour ? 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. When Murder bard her arm & rampant War, again. With thee, sweet Hope! resides the heavenly light, That pours remotest rapture on the sight: Thine is the charm of life's bewilder'd way, Primeval Hope, the Aönian Muses say, When Man and Nature mourn'd their first decay; When every form of death, and every woe, Shot from malignant stars to earth below, When Murder bared her arm, and rampant War Yoked the red dragons of her iron car, When Peace and Mercy, banish'd from the plain, Thus, while Elijah's burning wheels prepare From Carmel's heights to sweep the fields of air, The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world—a sacred gift to man. Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe: Won by their sweets, in Nature's languid hour, The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower ; There, as the wild bee murmurs on the wing, What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring! |