And blacken round our weary way,
Gilds with a gleam of distant day.

Still where rosy pleasure leads,
See a kindred grief pursue;
Behind the steps that misery treads,
Approaching comfort view:

The hues of bliss more brightly glow,
Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe;

And blended form with artful strife,
The strength and harmony of life.

See the wretch that long has tost
On the thorny bed of pain,
At length repair his vigour lost,

And breathe and walk again:

The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,

The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening paradise.

6

Humble quiet builds her cell,

Near the source whence pleasure flows;

She eyes the clear crystalline well,

And tastes it as it

goes.

6

While' far below the madding' crowd

Rush headlong to the dangerous flood,'

Where broad and turbulent it sweeps,
And' perish in the boundless deeps.

Mark where indolence and pride,
Sooth'd by flattery's tinkling sound,
Go, softly rolling, side by side,
Their dull but daily round:

To these, if Hebe's self should bring
The purest cup from pleasure's spring,
Say, can they taste the flavour high
Of sober, simple, genuine joy?

• Mark ambition's march sublime
Up to power's meridian's height;
While pale-eyed envy sees him climb,
And sickens at the sight.

Phantoms of danger, death, and dread,
Float hourly round ambition's head;
While spleen within his rival's breast,
Sits brooding on her scorpion nest.

From the pangs of passion free,

That breathes the keen yet wholesome air

Of rugged penury.

He, when his morning task is done,

Can slumber in the noontide sun;

And hie him home, at evening's close,
To sweet repast and calm repose.

He, unconscious whence the bliss,
Feels, and owns in carols rude,
That all the circling joys are his,
Of dear Vicissitude.

From toils he wins the spirits light,
From busy day the peaceful night;

Rich, from the very want of wealth,
In heaven's best treasures, peace and health.'

AGRIP. 'Tis well, begone! your errand is per form'd, [Speaks as to Anicetus entering message needs no comment. Tell your master,

The

His mother shall obey him. Say you saw her
Yielding due reverence to his high command:
Alone, unguarded, and without a lictor,
As fits the daughter of Germanicus.

Say, she retired to Antium; there to tend
Her household cares, a woman's best employment.
What if you add how she turn'd pale and trembled ;
You think, you spied a tear stand in her eye,

And would have dropp'd, but that her pride restrain'd it?
(Go! you can paint it well) 'twill profit you,
And please the stripling. Yet 'twould dash his joy
To hear the spirit of Britannicus

Yet walks on earth: at least there are who know

Without a spell to raise, and bid it fire

A thousand haughty hearts, unused to shake
When a boy frowns, nor to be lured with smiles
To taste of hollow kindness, or partake
His hospitable board: they are aware

Of the unpledged bowl, they love not aconite.

ACER. He's gone: and much I hope these walls

alone

And the mute air are privy to your passion.

Forgive your servant's fears, who sees the danger
Which fierce resentment cannot fail to raise

In haughty youth, and irritated power.

AGRIP. And dost thou talk to me, to me of danger,

Of haughty youth and irritated power,

To her that gave it being, her that arm'd

This painted Jove, and taught his novice hand
To aim the forked bolt; while he stood trembling,
Scared at the sound, and dazzled with its brightness?

'Tis like, thou hast forgot, when yet a stranger To adoration, to the grateful steam

Of flattery's incense, and obsequious vows
From voluntary realms, a puny boy,

Deck'd with no other lustre than the blood
Of Agrippina's race, he lived unknown

To fame, or fortune; haply eyed at distance
Some edileship, ambitious of the power

To judge of weights and measures; scarcely dared
On expectation's strongest wing to soar
High as the consulate, that empty shade

Of long-forgotten liberty: when I

Oped his young eye to bear the blaze of greatness;
Show'd him where empire tower'd, and bade him strike
The noble quarry. Gods! then was the time

To shrink from danger; fear might then have worn
The mask of prudence; but a heart like mine,
A heart that glows with the pure Julian fire,
If bright ambition from her craggy seat

Display the radiant prize, will mount undaunted,
Gain the rough heights, and grasp the dangerous

honour.