 | The Poems of Robert Fergusson |  |
The Delights of Virtue.
Returning morn, in orient blush array'd,
With gentle radiance hail'd the sky serene;
No rustling breezes wav'd the verdant shade,
Nor swelling surge disturb'd the azure main.
With gentle radiance hail'd the sky serene;
No rustling breezes wav'd the verdant shade,
Nor swelling surge disturb'd the azure main.
These moments, Meditation, sure are thine;
These are the halcyon joys you wish to find,
When nature's peaceful elements combine
To suit the calm composure of the mind.
These are the halcyon joys you wish to find,
When nature's peaceful elements combine
To suit the calm composure of the mind.
104
The Muse, exalted by thy sacred power,
To the green mountain's air-born summit flew,
Charm'd with the thoughtful stillness of an hour,
That usher'd beaming fancy to her view.
To the green mountain's air-born summit flew,
Charm'd with the thoughtful stillness of an hour,
That usher'd beaming fancy to her view.
Fresh from old Neptune's fluid mansion sprung
The sun, reviver of each drooping flower;
At his approach the lark, with matin song,
In notes of gratitude confess'd his power.
The sun, reviver of each drooping flower;
At his approach the lark, with matin song,
In notes of gratitude confess'd his power.
So shines fair Virtue, shedding light divine
On those who wish to profit by her ways;
Who ne'er at parting with their vice repine,
To taste the comforts of her blissful rays.
On those who wish to profit by her ways;
Who ne'er at parting with their vice repine,
To taste the comforts of her blissful rays.
She with fresh hopes each sorrow can beguile,
Can dissipate Adversity's stern gloom,
Make meagre Poverty contented smile,
And the sad wretch forget his hapless doom.
Can dissipate Adversity's stern gloom,
Make meagre Poverty contented smile,
And the sad wretch forget his hapless doom.
Sweeter than shady groves in summer's pride,
Than flowery dales or grassy meads is she;
Delightful as the honey'd streams that glide
From the rich labours of the busy bee.
Than flowery dales or grassy meads is she;
Delightful as the honey'd streams that glide
From the rich labours of the busy bee.
Her paths and alleys are for ever green;
There Innocence, in snowy robes array'd,
With smiles of pure content is hail'd the queen
And happy mistress of the sacred shade.
There Innocence, in snowy robes array'd,
With smiles of pure content is hail'd the queen
And happy mistress of the sacred shade.
O let no transient gleam of earthly joy
From Virtue lure your lab'ring steps aside;
Nor instant grandeur future hopes annoy
With thoughts that spring from insolence and pride.
From Virtue lure your lab'ring steps aside;
Nor instant grandeur future hopes annoy
With thoughts that spring from insolence and pride.
105
Soon will the winged moments speed away,
When you'll no more the plumes of honour wear:
Grandeur must shudder at the sad decay,
And Pride look humble when he ponders there.
When you'll no more the plumes of honour wear:
Grandeur must shudder at the sad decay,
And Pride look humble when he ponders there.
Depriv'd of Virtue, where is Beauty's power?
Her dimpled smiles, her roses charm no more;
So much can guilt the loveliest form deflower:
We loath that beauty which we lov'd before.
Her dimpled smiles, her roses charm no more;
So much can guilt the loveliest form deflower:
We loath that beauty which we lov'd before.
How fair are Virtue's buds where-e'er they blow,
Or in the desart wild or garden gay!
Her flow'rs how sacred wheresoe'er they show,
Unknown to the canker of decay!
Or in the desart wild or garden gay!
Her flow'rs how sacred wheresoe'er they show,
Unknown to the canker of decay!
| The Poems of Robert Fergusson | |