To join the artless maid, and honest swain, And guard, with fostering hand, her darling boy! To raise up modest merit from the ground, Delicious dream!-how often dost thou give And catch one chearful glimpse of transient joy. And, oh! how precious is that timely friend, One hour of life, who stops one rising tear. O, but for thee, long since the hand of care Had chilled my heart, and taught it how to break : For, ah! Affliction steals with transient flight, Sheds black destruction, though it flies unseen. O come, then, Fancy! and, with lenient hand, And give me more than fortune can bestow ! Mixed are her looks, and chequered all with ill; And latent storms on every gale are borne. Give me thy hope, which sickens not the heart, Give me thy wealth which hath no wings to fly, Give me the pride thy honours can impart, Thy friendship give me, warm in poverty: Give me a wish, the worldling may deride, The wise may censure, and the proud may hate; Wrapt in thy dreams, to lay the world aside, And snatch a bliss beyond the reach of fate. LXVIII. A VOW TO FORTUNE. MRS HUNTER. If e'er the moment should arrive, Which hope itself despairs to see, Fortune, this grateful heart shall strive, To rear a votive shrine to thee! Buona Fortuna shall be placed In golden letters round the dome; The weary pilgrim there shall rest, And wait the happier days to come. A curious lamp of bold design, With emblematic sculpture crowned, Shall burn before thy sacred shrine, And cast its trembling beams around. It shall be formed of silent tears, Slow dropping in the cave of care, Through the cold gloom of lingering years, Congeal'd to crystal by despair. It shall be wrought with tales of woe, Where Fortune turned the adverse tide; And taught the streams of chance to flow In currents Hope herself denied. There Expectation's light shall burn, Pure lambent flame! till death shall end Thy rays shall consolation lend, And light us on the way to peace. |