SCENE V.
Chorus.
STROPHE I.
Oh Solitude, ordain'd to be
The nurse of thought, and Reason's friend,
How many virtues join in thee!
How many rare endowments blend!
By thee the philosophic mind,
O Science! tow'ring on thy wing,
And leaving Error's train behind,
And Prejudice, and Custom blind,
Has dar'd of awful truths sublime to sing.
ANTISTROPHE I.
Oh Solitude! by heav'n design'd
Reflection's sober pow'r to wake;
To soften the obdurate mind,
And Vice's firm fix'd throne to shake!
How often has the ribald lewd,
Conducted thro' thy awful bow'r,
With trembling soul, Conviction view'd,
And loth'd the path so long pursu'd,
And weeping own'd Contrition's pious pow'r!
EPODE I.
Then comes Repentance, cloth'd in sable stole,
And with her leads fair Peace, and Virtue bright,
Who gently soothe the agonizing soul,
And chacing Guilt's tempestuous night,
The bosom cheer with heav'nly light;
And fair Religion fills the breast with pure, serene delight.
STROPHE II.
Oh Solitude! by heav'n endow'd
With pow'r to lull the stormy train
Of passions, furious, wild, or proud,
And bow them all to Reason's reign!
How oft Revenge his bloody spite
Has thrown away, and quench'd his brand,
When, riding on the wings of Night,
(All active bustle put to flight)
Thou hover'dst whispering o'er with influence bland!
ANTISTROPHE II.
Oh Solitude! by heav'n endu'd
With pow'r to soothe the stormy breast,
By Grief, Despair, or Anguish rude,
Or fickle Fortune's frown opprest!
Whose lenient pow'r can charm the heart,
Can stop Affliction's bitter tear;
And, by thy shame-concealing art,
Can lessen Disappointment's smart,
And blunt Ingratitude's fell dart severe.
EPODE II.
Oh! if beside some gurgling runnel laid,
Beneath the pendant willow's weeping sprays,
Or in some grotto's more sequester'd shade
The poor forlorn Sophia stays,
While on her cheek keen Anguish preys,
Each torturing fancy, nymph divine! from her sad breast erase.
