Physician art thou? One, all eyes, Wrapp'd closely in thy sensual fleece A Moralist' perchance appears; Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod: One to whose smooth-rubb'd soul can cling An intellectual All in All! Shut close the door! press down the latch: Sleep in thy intellectual crust, Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch,. But who is He with modest looks, Ile is retired as noontide dew, The outward shews of sky and earth, In common things that round us lie That broods and sleeps on his own heart. But he is weak, both man and boy, Hath been an idler in the land; Contented if he might enjoy The things which others understand. -Come hither in thy hour of strength, A CHARACTER In the antithetical Manner. I marvel how Nature could ever find space For the weight and the levity seen in his face: There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom, And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom. There's weakness, and strength, both redun- ̧ dant and vain; Such strength, as if ever affliction and pain Could pierce through a temper that's soft to disease, Would be rational peace-a Philosopher's ease.. There's indifference, alike when he fails and succeeds, And attention full ten times as much as there needs, Pride where there's no envy, there's so much of joy, And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy. There's freedom, and sometimes a diffident stare Of shame scarcely seeming to know that she's there. There's virtue, the title it surely may claim, Yet wants, Heaven knows what, to be worthy the name. What a picture! 'tis drawn without Nature or Art, -Yet the Man would at once run away with your heart, And I for five centuries right gladly would be Such an odd, such a kind happy creature as he. A FRAGMENT. BETWEEN two sister moorland rills And in this smooth and open dell A thing no storm can e'er destroy, In clouds above, the lark is heard, 2 No beast, no bird hath here his home; The Danish Boy walks here alone. |