 | Poems |  |
117
To my Mind.
I
Tell ever-fleeting wanderer, tell,Ah! how shall I define thee?
Of every novel whim the prey,
What magic can confine thee?
II
Vainly thy airy flight I'd check,Thou fluttering, wavering thing,
Bound all thy fond romantic views,
And clip thy sportive wing!
III
Vainly to thee does reason preach,Or caution on thee lours;
You smile away their frowns, and list
Among the laughing hours!
118
IV
Vainly each level rule I've tried,Thee fickle thing to force,
In some direction, to some point,
Yet bizzare is thy course!
V
Now borne on Fancy's airy wing,Thro' boundless realms you rove;
Now thro' Imagination's paths,
In wild delight you move!
VI
And now the world attracts thy gaze,You gazing, fonder grow,
And leave thy visionary bliss,
Content with bliss below.
VII
And now for solitude and rest,The noisy world resign;
While o'er thy spirit softly steals,
Religion's flame divine!
119
VIII
Now joining folly's motley group,You mingle in her train;
Dancing her giddy, mazy round,
The vainest of the vain!
IX
Now languishing for social charms,For sympathetic mind;
Now to remain in peace unknown,
You life's first blessing find!
X
Now harmony's enchanting tones,Thy enthusiasm fires;
Now painting,—now bewitching verse,
Alternate thee inspires!
XI
Tell then, thou fickle flutterer tell,What species I'll declare thee,
Or to what object, changing still,
Shall I, frail thing, compare thee?
120
XII
The moon, the ever-changing moon,The wind's quick fluctuation,
Life's fickle changes, Fortune's smiles,
The ocean's undulation!
XIII
Nor aught on earth, in sea, or air,Could like thee varying prove;
For ever changing, wandering still,
From all but those you love!
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