Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock Together with an Essay on the Education of the Blind. To Which is Prefixed A New Account of the Life and Writings of the Author |
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To HAPPINESS.
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 | Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock |  |
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To HAPPINESS.
An ODE.
I
The morning dawns, the ev'ning shadesFair Nature's various face disguise;
No scene to rest my heart persuades,
No moment frees from tears my eyes:
Whate'er once charm'd the laughing hour,
Now boasts no more its pleasing pow'r;
Each former object of delight,
Beyond redemption, wings its flight;
And, where it smil'd, the darling of my sight,
Prospects of woe and horrid phantoms rise.
II
O Happiness! immortal Fair,Where does thy subtil essence dwell?
Dost thou relax the Hermit's care,
Companion in the lonely cell?
Or, dost thou on the sunny plain
Inspire the reed, and chear the swain?
Or, scornful of each low retreat,
On fortune's favour dost thou wait;
And, in the gilded chambers of the great,
Protract the revel, and the pleasure swell?
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III
Ah me! the Hermit's cell explore;Thy absence he, like me, complains;
While murm'ring streams along the shore,
Echo the love-sick shepherd's strains:
Nor, where the gilded domes aspire,
Deign'st thou, O Goddess! to retire:
Though there the loves and graces play,
Though wine and music court thy stay;
Thou fly'st, alas! and who can trace thy way,
Or say what place thy heav'nly form contains?
IV
If to mankind I turn my view,Flatter'd with hopes of social joy;
Rapine and blood mankind pursue,
As God had form'd them to destroy.
Discord, at whose tremendous view
Hell quakes with horror ever new,
No more by endless night deprest,
Pours all her venom thro' each breast;
And, while deep groans and carnage are increas'd,
Smiles grim, the rising mischief to enjoy.
V
Hence, hence, indignant turn thine eyes,To my dejected soul I said;
See, to the shade Euanthe flies,
Go, find Euanthe in the shade:
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Thy heart her angel-goodness warm;
There, shall no wants thy steps pursue,
No wakeful care contract thy brow;
Music each sound, and beauty ev'ry view,
Shall ev'ry sense with full delight invade.
VI
Exulting in the charming thought,Thither with hasty steps I press;
And while th' enchanting maid I sought,
Thank'd heav'n for all my past distress:
Increasing hopes my journey chear'd,
And now in reach the bliss appear'd;
Grant this sole boon, O fate! I cry'd;
Be all thy other gifts deny'd,
In this shall all my wishes be supply'd;
And sure a love like mine deserves no less.
VII
In vain, alas! in vain my pray'r;Fate mix'd the accents with the wind;
Th' illusive form dissolv'd in air,
And left my soul to grief resign'd:
As far from all my hopes she flies,
As deepest seas from loftiest skies:
Yet, still, on fancy deep imprest,
The sad, the dear ideas rest;
Yet still the recent sorrows heave my breast,
Hang black o'er life, and prey upon my mind.
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VIII
Ah! Goddess, scarce to mortals known,Who with thy shadow madly stray,
At length from heav'n, thy sacred throne,
Dart thro' my soul one chearful ray:
Ah! with some sacred lenient art,
Allay the anguish of my heart;
Ah! teach me, patient to sustain
Life's various stores of grief and pain;
Or, if I thus prefer my pray'r in vain,
Soon let me find thee in eternal day.
| Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock | |