« ForrigeFortsett »
BY THE MARGRAVINE OF ANSPACH.
WITHOUT preamble, to my friend
These hasty lines I'm bid to send,
Or give, if I am able;
I dare not hesitate to say,
Though I have trembled all the day,
It looks so like a fable
Last night's adventure is my theme;
And should it
you as a dream,
Yet soon its high import
Must make you own the matter such,
So delicate, it were too much
To be composed in sport.
Fair Luna shone serenely bright,
And every star bedeck'd the night,
While Zephyr fanu’d the trees :
No sound assail'd my mind's repose,
Save that yon stream, which murmuring flows,
Still echoed to the breeze.
Enwrapp'd in solemn thoughts I sate,
Revolving o'er the turns of Fate,
Yet void of hope or fear;
When lo! behold an airy throng,
With lightest steps, and jocund song,
Surprised my eye and ear.
A form superior to the rest
His little voice to me address’d,
And gently thus began: « I've heard strange things from one of you, Pray tell me if you think 'tis true;
Explain it if you can.
“Such incense bas perfumed my throne,
Such eloquence my heart has won,
I think I guess the hand :
I know her wit and beauty too,
But why she sends a prayer so new
I cannot understand,
"To light some flames, and some revive, To keep some others just alive,
Full oft I am implored:
But, with peculiar power to please,
To supplicate for naught but ease, --
'Tis odd upon my word!
4 Tell her, with fruitless care I've sought,
And though my realms, with wonders fraught,
In remedies abound,
No grain of cold Indifference
Was ever yet allied to Sense,
In all my Fairy round.
“ The regions of the sky I'd trace, I'd ransack every earthly place,
Each leaf, each herb, each flower, To mitigate the pangs of Fear, Dispel the clouds of black Despair,
Or lull the restless hour.
“ I would be generous as I'm just,
But I obey, as others must,
Those laws which Fate has made;
My tiny kingdom how defend,
And what might be the horrid end,
Should man my state invade?
“ 'Twould put your mind into a rage ;
And such unequal war to wage
Suits not my regal duty!
I dare not change a first decree,
She's doom’d to please, nor can be free
Sueb is the lot of beauty!"
This said, he darted o'er the plain,
And after follow'd all his train;
No glimpse of him I find;
But sure I am, the little sprite
These words, before he took his flight,
Imprinted on my mind.
FROM POPE'S ESSAY ON MAN.
Oh Happiness ! our being's end and aim!
Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! what'er thy name:
That something still which pronipts the eternal sigh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die;
Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies,
O'erlook’d, seen double, by the fool and wise ;
Plant of celestial seed ! if dropp'd below,
Say, in what mortal soil thou deign'st to grow :
Fair opening to some court's propitious shine,
Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine?
Twined with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield,
Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field ?
Where grows—where grows it not? If vain our toil,
We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
Fix'd to no spot is Happiness sincere,
'Tis no where to be found, or every where;
'Tis never to be bought, but always free,
Aud fled from monarchs, St. John, dwells with thee.
Ask of the learn'd the way: the learn’d are blind;
This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind.
Some place the bliss in action, some in ease;
Those call it pleasure, and contentment these :
Some, sunk tó beasts, find pleasure end in pain :
Some, swell’d to gods, confess e'en virtue vain ;
Or indolent to each extreme they fall,
To trust in every thing, or doubt of all.
Who thus define it, say they more or less
Than this, that Happiness is Happiness?
Take nature's path, and mad opinions leave;
All states can reach it, and all heads conceive;
Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell;
There needs but thinking right and meaning well;
And, mourn our various portions as we please,
Equal is common sense and common ease.
“ the Uviversal Cause
Acts not by partial, but by general laws,"
And makes wbat Happiness we justly call,
Subsist not in the good of one, but all.
There's not a blessing individuals find,
But some way leans and hearkens to the kind;
No bandit fierce, nor tyrant mad with pride,
No cavern'd hermit rests self-satisfied.