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CHAPTER 9th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
Thus have I sought, with simple pow'rs, to paint
The prospects of the Sinner, and the Saint.
Before Thy feeble, aged, eyes, display'd,
In striking outlines, with strong light and shade,
That Thou may'st meditate the obvious view,
The good to choose, the evil to eschew!
But Thou, I fear, hast walk'd so far, and wide,
With heedless ardour, in the paths of Pride—
Each prejudice, and habit grown so strong,
And so delighted with fool-Fashion's Throng,
Thy Soul will scorn to hear a Clown advise;
Spurn the rude Poet, and dull rhymes despise!
The prospects of the Sinner, and the Saint.
Before Thy feeble, aged, eyes, display'd,
In striking outlines, with strong light and shade,
That Thou may'st meditate the obvious view,
The good to choose, the evil to eschew!
But Thou, I fear, hast walk'd so far, and wide,
With heedless ardour, in the paths of Pride—
Each prejudice, and habit grown so strong,
And so delighted with fool-Fashion's Throng,
Thy Soul will scorn to hear a Clown advise;
Spurn the rude Poet, and dull rhymes despise!
Perchance my Lecture may not meet the light,
Before Thy evening end in Death's dark Night—
But should my strains e'er meet the public eye,
Some Soul, regardless, long, of greatest joy,
And, rouz'd with dread of Heav'n's impending wrath,
May labour to explore Life's narrow Path—
Yet, should proud Man my admonition spurn,
And, from so mean a Lecturer, scorn to learn,
Or, should pure Providence, in wisest way,
Decree my Song shall never see the day;
My Heart must feel its Liberty enlarg'd,
Reflecting full on friendly debt discharg'd!
Before Thy evening end in Death's dark Night—
But should my strains e'er meet the public eye,
Some Soul, regardless, long, of greatest joy,
And, rouz'd with dread of Heav'n's impending wrath,
May labour to explore Life's narrow Path—
Yet, should proud Man my admonition spurn,
And, from so mean a Lecturer, scorn to learn,
Or, should pure Providence, in wisest way,
Decree my Song shall never see the day;
My Heart must feel its Liberty enlarg'd,
Reflecting full on friendly debt discharg'd!
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CHAPTER 9th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |