« ForrigeFortsett »
For though, ere yet the shaft is on the wing,
With caution taste the sweet Circean cup:
Swallow the two grand nostrums they dispense-
But muse forbear; long flights forebode a fall; Strike on the deep-toned chord the sum of all.
Hear the just law--the judgment of the skies! He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies: And he that will be cheated to the last, Delusions strong as hell shall bind him fast. But if the wanderer his mistake discern, Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return, Bewiļdered once, inust he bewail his loss For ever and for ever? No-the eross!
There and there only (though the deist rave,
I am no preacher, let this suffice-