The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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ON TRAVELLING. |
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
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ON TRAVELLING.
Whate'er of wonder Art of Nature fram'd,For giant strength or pigmy graces fam'd.
Oh, let me scan, while Life's short changes last,
Pant for the future, and enjoy the past;
Oh! thus, while smiling years all-fav'ring roll,
Compact my body and expand my soul!—
Who, like a worm, in one dull spot would crawl,
Nor view with curious eye this lovely ball?
Who would not wish, with sacred knowledge smit,
To read that page the God of Wisdom writ?
Who would not nicely mark each varied hue
Of that fair scene the God of Beauty drew?
Painter immensely grand, minutely fine,
Whose pictures live and flourish as they shine.
Whether Killarney's silver-rolling tide,
Howth's vernal crest, or Antrim's rocky pride,
Entranc'd we view,—the silent rapture glows,
And Nature trembles at the work she shews.
Who would not fathom Etna's burning womb?
Who would not thread old Arden's devious gloom?
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Who would not trace the long disfigur'd god,
Whose mould'ring bust, once crown'd with many a rose,
With many a festive myrtle, wants a nose;
While lurks in shades uncouth the Paphian queen,
And Hermes sticks two Christian saints between?
The serious smile their sportive dooms excite,
And classic wit laughs loudly at the sight:
Nor is the useless moral cast away;—
Lo, Grandeur crumbling to a little clay!
| The Harp of Erin | |