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The Dance of Life

A Poem, by the author of "Doctor Syntax;%" [i.e. William Combe] Illustrated with coloured engravings, by Thomas Rowlandson
  

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But her example shall survive
While Granny Woodbine's doom'd to live;
Yes, her example shall inspire
My teaching of the Little 'Squire;
And, 'spite of all his humour'd tricks,
I trust, in Heaven, that I shall fix
In his young mind th'unerring rules,
Not always taught in higher schools,
That certain sense of right and wrong,
Which kneaded in a mind so young,
With all the Hopes Religion gives,
And Fears which thence the heart receives:
Hopes that enchant the early view,
But while they please, exalt it too;

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And Fears call'd forth, whene'er we err,
Not to affright but to deter,—
Such hopes, such fears when once combin'd
With the first feelings of the mind;
Though by the gales of passion tost,
Though, for a time, o'erwhelm'd and lost;
Or laid asleep amid the strife,
And opiate Joys of sensual Life;
When Reason doth regain its throne,
And the mind dares its follies own;
Or when Misfortune's wak'ning power
Compels the sad, reflective hour,
Unless, by desp'rate vices chang'd,
The mind from Virtue's quite estrang'd,
Again returns the Love of Truth
Which gave a grace to early Youth;
Again is cherish'd every thought
Which the first fond Instructress taught.