 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
ART OF PRINTING.
When o'er proud Tiber's flood
Fair Science reared her dome,
And Greece had lent her arts
To gild imperial Rome;
Ambitious Genius aimed her flight
To seek unknown renown,
But, veiled in sable shades of night,
She sunk bewildered down;
For fate to them denied the art
Which gives to knowledge birth,
Refines the human heart,
And scatters bliss on earth.
Fair Science reared her dome,
And Greece had lent her arts
To gild imperial Rome;
Ambitious Genius aimed her flight
To seek unknown renown,
But, veiled in sable shades of night,
She sunk bewildered down;
For fate to them denied the art
Which gives to knowledge birth,
190
And scatters bliss on earth.
No soft refinements graced
Or harmonized the mind,
For maddening war's career
Left calmer joys behind;
The social ties which life endear
Their thoughts could ne'er engage;
The sympathetic smile and tear
Were lost in battle's rage:
For fate to them denied the art
Which gives to knowledge birth,
Refines the human heart,
And scatters bliss on earth.
Or harmonized the mind,
For maddening war's career
Left calmer joys behind;
The social ties which life endear
Their thoughts could ne'er engage;
The sympathetic smile and tear
Were lost in battle's rage:
For fate to them denied the art
Which gives to knowledge birth,
Refines the human heart,
And scatters bliss on earth.
Time told a thousand years
On his eventful page,
When Faust, at length, appears
To bless the happy age;
His plastic hand lends genius wings,
Bids wisdom proudly soar,
And infant learning joyful springs
With powers unknown before.
His was the heaven-descended art
To give fair knowledge birth,
To mend the human heart,
And civilize the earth.
On his eventful page,
When Faust, at length, appears
To bless the happy age;
His plastic hand lends genius wings,
Bids wisdom proudly soar,
And infant learning joyful springs
With powers unknown before.
His was the heaven-descended art
To give fair knowledge birth,
To mend the human heart,
And civilize the earth.
191
The sun of science rose,
And chased the clouds of night;
While wondering realms surveyed,
Astonished at the sight—
The social arts, in wisdom's train,
With love and peace advance,
Teach man to feel his fellow's pain,
A brother's joy enhance.
Ours is the heaven-descended art
To give fair knowledge birth,
To mend the human heart,
And civilize the earth.
And chased the clouds of night;
While wondering realms surveyed,
Astonished at the sight—
The social arts, in wisdom's train,
With love and peace advance,
Teach man to feel his fellow's pain,
A brother's joy enhance.
Ours is the heaven-descended art
To give fair knowledge birth,
To mend the human heart,
And civilize the earth.
Hail, art of arts! all hail!
Thy praises mock the lyre;
To reach the boundless theme,
Its tones in vain aspire;
But grateful hearts, who feel the bliss
Thy magic power bestows,
Respond to every strain like this,
How dull soe'er it flows:
Ours is the heaven-descended art,
To give fair knowledge birth,
To mend the human heart,
And civilize the earth.
Thy praises mock the lyre;
To reach the boundless theme,
Its tones in vain aspire;
But grateful hearts, who feel the bliss
Thy magic power bestows,
Respond to every strain like this,
How dull soe'er it flows:
Ours is the heaven-descended art,
To give fair knowledge birth,
To mend the human heart,
And civilize the earth.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |