 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
56
SOLITUDE.
Folly, cease thy noisy Bell,
And shake no more thy nodding Plumes at me:
No Mirror may'st Thou see
On the rude Wall of this sequester'd Cell.
Hence! and thy worthless Toys display,
Where two-fac'd Flattery gilds the Bust of Pride,
Or where thy Meteors glide,
In countless Swarms, the giddy, and the gay.
In these still Shades the blustering Roar
Of Ignorance perverse, the vain man's Lye,
And fawning Treachery
No more deceive Me, and disgust no more.
And shake no more thy nodding Plumes at me:
No Mirror may'st Thou see
On the rude Wall of this sequester'd Cell.
Hence! and thy worthless Toys display,
Where two-fac'd Flattery gilds the Bust of Pride,
Or where thy Meteors glide,
In countless Swarms, the giddy, and the gay.
In these still Shades the blustering Roar
Of Ignorance perverse, the vain man's Lye,
And fawning Treachery
No more deceive Me, and disgust no more.
57
With Eye serene, and Bosoms bare,
And Brows uncharacter'd with Care,
Come gentle Peace, and Leisure free,
Daughters of Philosophy!
And lodge beneath this living Screen,
Of Olive mild, and Myrtle green;
Where a clear Stream now smoothly glides,
Now the struggling Pebbles chides.
On whose grassy-fringed Side
Blows the humble Daisy pied,
And the light Fays in mingled Dance
O'er the green Turf featly glance.
And Brows uncharacter'd with Care,
Come gentle Peace, and Leisure free,
Daughters of Philosophy!
And lodge beneath this living Screen,
Of Olive mild, and Myrtle green;
Where a clear Stream now smoothly glides,
Now the struggling Pebbles chides.
On whose grassy-fringed Side
Blows the humble Daisy pied,
And the light Fays in mingled Dance
O'er the green Turf featly glance.
Or if the still-air'd Evening leads
O'er the Cowslip-breathing Meads;
Let us, while fades in Twilight gray,
The Gleam that clos'd the parting Day,
Pursue fair Fancy, where She roves,
Thro' golden Vales, and spicy Groves.
O'er the Cowslip-breathing Meads;
Let us, while fades in Twilight gray,
The Gleam that clos'd the parting Day,
Pursue fair Fancy, where She roves,
Thro' golden Vales, and spicy Groves.
58
Or does inspiring Autumn shed
The Glories of his yellow Head?
Pensively musing shall we stray
O'er the leafy-matted Way?
Oft list'ning, as we steal along,
The Music of the plaintive Song.
The Glories of his yellow Head?
Pensively musing shall we stray
O'er the leafy-matted Way?
Oft list'ning, as we steal along,
The Music of the plaintive Song.
Hence let Me the rude Paths explore,
That, winding, scale yon Mountain Hoar;
Nor might the Toil be counted vain,
If there the coy Muse yet remain;
The Muse that Fancy oft has seen,
With Head repos'd on Hillock Green,
“Wrapt in some Strain of pensive Gray,”
Or Shenstone's sweetly rural Lay.
That, winding, scale yon Mountain Hoar;
Nor might the Toil be counted vain,
If there the coy Muse yet remain;
The Muse that Fancy oft has seen,
With Head repos'd on Hillock Green,
“Wrapt in some Strain of pensive Gray,”
Or Shenstone's sweetly rural Lay.
If there, perchance, I found the Cell,
Where Wisdom's aweful Parents dwell;
Permitted free my Mind to store,
With their Heav'n-suggested Lore.
These, O Solitude divine!
Pleasures, such as these, are thine.
H*****! well thy Shades shall please,
Thine are Pleasures such as These.
Where Wisdom's aweful Parents dwell;
59
With their Heav'n-suggested Lore.
These, O Solitude divine!
Pleasures, such as these, are thine.
H*****! well thy Shades shall please,
Thine are Pleasures such as These.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |