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171
SOCIETY
AN ODE.
I.
O Sweet Society!What is living without thee?
Solitude hath oft and long
Been the theme of poet's song:
And charming solitude
Is exquisitely fair and good;
But never, never without thee,
Best boon of heav'n, O sweet Society!
II.
She too, she shall have the praiseOf my rude, unlabour'd lays:
But never to disparage her,
Elder-born, and fairer far,
Divine Society!
First, best boon of bounteous heav'n,
To the lonely mortal giv'n;
Who not ev'n in Paradise,
While alone, cou'd taste of bliss:
God himself the truth confest,
“Man alone cannot be blest.”
Woman, dear lovely woman then was giv'n;
And thus Society began,
Best boon of bounteous heav'n!
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III.
Place me on Gallia's southern plain,Where spring and health for ever reign:
To soft Italia's bosom bear,
Where summer revels all the year:
Be every fruit of luscious taste
On my plenteous table plac'd;
Wine of ev'ry clime afford,
Oldest date, and choicest hoard:
Ev'ry daintiest cate supply
Wish of nicest luxury:
Fountains bubble at my feet;
Music murmur, soft and sweet:—
Yet, doom'd these joys alone to prove,
Without the nymph, I woe and love,
Divine Society!
These, and more wou'd I despise
For northern suns, and cloudy skies;
For herbs, and olives, meanest cheer!
Let but the nymph I love be there,
Oh best Society!
IV.
Lead me, nymph of graceful mein,Lead me to the social train;
Who, in converse free and gay,
Pass the jocund hours away;
Who, with unaffected ease
Pleasing, study all to please!
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Solid sense, with manly air:
There be decency, his bride,
Sweet good-nature by her side;
With politeness, welcome guest,
Lovely female, richly drest.
Science too, the grave, shall come,
Deeply learn'd from Greece and Rome:
And all the arts shall take a place,
Seated by them ev'ry grace.
Nor by any means exclude
Dear religion, mild and good;
On whose heav'nly brow is seen
Peace celestial and serene.
V.
So justly what belov'dAs converse, thus improving and improv'd,
Dear social intercourse!
Let me but happy be,
Sweet nymph, with love, with friendship, and with thee,
And fortune do her worst!
And when of thee I've had my fill,
All unperceiv'd away I'll steal
To dusky grove, or silent wood,
To muse and walk
In sober talk
With heav'nly-pensive solitude!
Then shall reason plume her wings;
Then, soaring to the king of kings,
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Thankful for interchanged joys;
Pleasing thus alike, and good;
Society and solitude!
VI.
Thus my mind repair'd and chearful,Smiling will I haste again
To the bliss of conversation,
To the busy hum of men!
Thankful there for each enjoyment,
Pleas'd my part in life I'll fill;
Joy diffusing, while possessing,
Blest the most, by blessing still.
Thankful thus for each enjoyment
By the hand of heav'n bestow'd,
Innocence, the feast approving,
All I'll taste; for all are good.
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