 | Poetical remains (1872) |  |
ODE VIII.
[Till graver years, O wisdom, stay!]
Till graver years, O wisdom, stay!
Awhile delay
Thy sober lessons: come not hither.
Too soon alas! each pleasure cloys;
Our budding joys
Let not thy frozen aspect wither.
Awhile delay
Thy sober lessons: come not hither.
Too soon alas! each pleasure cloys;
Our budding joys
Let not thy frozen aspect wither.
Now half a rebel to thy cause,
Thy sacred laws,
As too severe my heart accuses;
And now I chide the preaching sage
Whose cautious age
To Youth it's lawful joys refuses.
Thy sacred laws,
96
And now I chide the preaching sage
Whose cautious age
To Youth it's lawful joys refuses.
No more, O Wisdom, haunt these plains,
Where Pleasure reigns;
But let me careless of the morrow,
Still linger in her flowery road
And sweet abode,
Unconscious of impending sorrow.
Where Pleasure reigns;
But let me careless of the morrow,
Still linger in her flowery road
And sweet abode,
Unconscious of impending sorrow.
Soon reason cries,—Mistaken youth,
This holy truth
In Fate's eternal law is written:
Ne'er shall the wreath of fair renown
His temples crown
Whom these fantastic joys have smitten.
This holy truth
In Fate's eternal law is written:
Ne'er shall the wreath of fair renown
His temples crown
Whom these fantastic joys have smitten.
His feeble mind shall ne'er explore
The sacred store
Of science, who, dissolved in pleasures,
With sluggish hand the page unrolls:
For nobler souls
Her bright reward the goddess treasures.
The sacred store
Of science, who, dissolved in pleasures,
With sluggish hand the page unrolls:
For nobler souls
Her bright reward the goddess treasures.
97
Farewell the gay convivial scene!
And ye fair train,
With wanton smile my glances wooing;
O if I pass in silence by,
Nor meet the eye
That sweetly tempts me to my ruin,
And ye fair train,
With wanton smile my glances wooing;
O if I pass in silence by,
Nor meet the eye
That sweetly tempts me to my ruin,
Forgive the wrong: for many a throe
My heart will know
Ere I can calmly slight your favour;
And oft, averse to wisdom's laws,
Between her cause
And yours my treacherous heart shall waver.
My heart will know
Ere I can calmly slight your favour;
And oft, averse to wisdom's laws,
Between her cause
And yours my treacherous heart shall waver.
| Poetical remains (1872) | |