 | [Poems by Smith in] The Echo |  |
906
ODE TO HENRY.
With what an anxious, trembling, joy,
Doth Modesty his powers employ!
While earnest pantings fill his breast,
He shrinks with shadowy fears distrest.
Warm'd with Fancy's glowing fire,
Henry can thy soul desire
Far from Virtue's aid to fly?
Virtue daughter of the sky.
Doth Modesty his powers employ!
While earnest pantings fill his breast,
He shrinks with shadowy fears distrest.
Warm'd with Fancy's glowing fire,
Henry can thy soul desire
Far from Virtue's aid to fly?
Virtue daughter of the sky.
O I had hoped, with fond delight,
With thee, ambitious, to unite;
With thee to wake the answering lyre;
With thee the strength of truth inspire.
Now thou fli'st the doubtful field
Yet untried, I see thee yield;
Shun the stormy face of day,
Which to glory points the way.
With thee, ambitious, to unite;
With thee to wake the answering lyre;
With thee the strength of truth inspire.
Now thou fli'st the doubtful field
Yet untried, I see thee yield;
Shun the stormy face of day,
Which to glory points the way.
We might have join'd, with studious care,
To chase from earth the fiend Despair.
To wake new tenderness and truth,
New virtue, in the soul of Youth.
Might have bade true friendship rise;
Love regardless of disguise.
Merit garb anew the mind;
Worth the glory of mankind.
To chase from earth the fiend Despair.
To wake new tenderness and truth,
New virtue, in the soul of Youth.
Might have bade true friendship rise;
Love regardless of disguise.
Merit garb anew the mind;
Worth the glory of mankind.
To us the Muse have oped her store
With luxury unknown before;
Our fainting souls with strength have fired;
Our song with energy inspired.
Now a tear her cheek bedews—
“Henry hath forgot the Muse.
“Slights the power whose constant care
“Makes him lovely to his fair.
With luxury unknown before;
Our fainting souls with strength have fired;
Our song with energy inspired.
Now a tear her cheek bedews—
“Henry hath forgot the Muse.
“Slights the power whose constant care
“Makes him lovely to his fair.
“Tell him, altho the fires of even,
“Before the Sun, are lost in heaven;
“Like, are the Muse's splendid rays,
“The glory of the latter days.
“Radiance gilds the Poet's sky;
“Heavenly visions fill his eye;
“Time's dominions unconceal'd,
“All Creation lies reveal'd.”
“Before the Sun, are lost in heaven;
“Like, are the Muse's splendid rays,
“The glory of the latter days.
“Radiance gilds the Poet's sky;
“Heavenly visions fill his eye;
“Time's dominions unconceal'd,
“All Creation lies reveal'd.”
ELLA.
| [Poems by Smith in] The Echo | |