 | Songs and poems(1866) |  |
THE FAVOURITE FOUNTAIN.
Hail! sweet solace of my care,
As the Sabine fountain fair:
And were mine the Sabine's lays
Thou shou'dst rival it in praise.
Boast old springs a sacred train
Of their Nymphs and Satyrs vain;
Frequent to thy streams repair
Swains as merry, maids as fair.
Boast old poets in their bowers
To converse with heavenly powers;
Often here at evening walk,
With the power Supreme I talk.
As the Sabine fountain fair:
And were mine the Sabine's lays
Thou shou'dst rival it in praise.
Boast old springs a sacred train
Of their Nymphs and Satyrs vain;
Frequent to thy streams repair
Swains as merry, maids as fair.
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To converse with heavenly powers;
Often here at evening walk,
With the power Supreme I talk.
Softly hurls the stream along;
O how gentle, yet how strong!
Sweetly murmuring in its flow,
Not too loud nor yet too low:
Touch'd with cold nor heat extreme,
Pierce the frost or beat the beam:
Knowing nor to grow, nor fail,
Rage of storms nor draughts prevail.
Rise the mud, or fall the shower,
Spotless ever, ever pure:
May my life be like my theme,
Such a little cheerful stream;
Nor in hurry wildly spent,
Nor quite flat and indolent;
Thus resistless let me lay
Every ear attentive stay,
And each care-distracted breast
Soothe enchantingly to rest.
O how gentle, yet how strong!
Sweetly murmuring in its flow,
Not too loud nor yet too low:
Touch'd with cold nor heat extreme,
Pierce the frost or beat the beam:
Knowing nor to grow, nor fail,
Rage of storms nor draughts prevail.
Rise the mud, or fall the shower,
Spotless ever, ever pure:
May my life be like my theme,
Such a little cheerful stream;
Nor in hurry wildly spent,
Nor quite flat and indolent;
Thus resistless let me lay
Every ear attentive stay,
And each care-distracted breast
Soothe enchantingly to rest.
Let not fortune's smile or frown
Raise me up or cast me down.
Still the same, unalter'd still,
Change she fickle as she will:
May I always be inclin'd
To advantage human-kind,
But most ready to dispense
Benefits on indigence.
Thro' this world, and its vain toys,
Sullying pleasures, soiling joys,
Let me wander without blame,
Pure returning as I came.
Raise me up or cast me down.
Still the same, unalter'd still,
Change she fickle as she will:
May I always be inclin'd
To advantage human-kind,
But most ready to dispense
Benefits on indigence.
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Sullying pleasures, soiling joys,
Let me wander without blame,
Pure returning as I came.
| Songs and poems(1866) | |