Miscellaneous Poems | Page 8

yet he hoped the while;
For as, when sinking, wretched men are
found
To catch at rushes rather than be drown'd;
So on a dream our
peasant placed his hope,
And found that rush as valid as a rope.

Swift fled the days, for now in hope they fled,
When a fair daughter
bless'd the nuptial bed;
Her infant-face the mother's pains beguiled,

She look'd so pleasing and so softly smiled;
Those smiles, those looks,
with sweet sensations moved
The gazer's soul, and as he look'd he
loved.
And now the fairies came with gifts, to grace
So mild a nature, and so
fair a face.
They gave, with beauty, that bewitching art,
That holds
in easy chains the human heart;
They gave her skill to win the
stubborn mind,
To make the suffering to their sorrows blind,
To
bring on pensive looks the pleasing smile,
And Care's stern brow of
every frown beguile.
These magic favours graced the infant-maid,

Whose more enlivening smile the charming gifts repaid.
Now Fortune changed, who, were she constant long,
Would leave us
few adventures for our song.
A wicked elfin roved this land around,

Whose joys proceeded from the griefs he found;
Envy his name:
--his fascinating eye
From the light bosom drew the sudden sigh;

Unsocial he, but with malignant mind,
He dwelt with man, that he
might curse mankind;
Like the first foe, he sought th' abode of Joy

Grieved to behold, but eager to destroy;
Round blooming beauty, like
the wasp, he flew,
Soil'd the fresh sweet, and changed the rosy hue;

The wise, the good, with anxious heart he saw,
And here a failing

found, and there a flaw;
Discord in families 'twas his to move,

Distrust in friendship, jealousy in love;
He told the poor, what joys
the great possess'd;
The great, what calm content the cottage bless'd:

To part the learned and the rich he tried,
Till their slow friendship
perish'd in their pride.
Such was the fiend, and so secure of prey,

That only Misery pass'd unstung away.
Soon as he heard the fairy-babe was born,
Scornful he smiled, but felt
no more than scorn:
For why, when Fortune placed her state so low,

In useless spite his lofty malice show?
Why, in a mischief of the
meaner kind,
Exhaust the vigour of a ranc'rous mind;
But, soon as
Fame the fairy-gifts proclaim'd,
Quick-rising wrath his ready soul
inflamed
To swear, by vows that e'en the wicked tie,
The nymph
should weep her varied destiny;
That every gift, that now appear'd to
shine
In her fair face, and make her smiles divine,
Should all the
poison of his magic prove,
And they should scorn her, whom she
sought for love.
His spell prepared, in form an ancient dame,
A fiend in spirit, to the
cot he came;
There gain'd admittance, and the infant press'd

(Muttering his wicked magic) to his breast;
And thus he said: --"Of
all the powers who wait
On Jove's decrees, and do the work of fate,

Was I, alone, despised or worthless, found,
Weak to protect, or
impotent to wound?
See then thy foe, regret the friendship lost,
And
learn my skill, but learn it at your cost.
"Know, then, O child! devote to fates severe,
The good shall hate thy
name, the wise shall fear;
Wit shall deride, and no protecting friend

Thy shame shall cover, or thy name defend.
Thy gentle sex, who,
more than ours, should spare
A humble foe, will greater scorn declare;

The base alone thy advocates shall be,
Or boast alliance with a
wretch like thee."
He spake, and vanish'd, other prey to find,
And waste in slow disease

the conquer'd mind.
Awed by the elfin's threats, and fill'd with dread
The parents wept,
and sought their infant's bed;
Despair alone the father's soul possess'd;

But hope rose gently in the mother's breast;
For well she knew that
neither grief nor joy
Pain'd without hope, or pleased without alloy;

And while these hopes and fears her heart divide,
A cheerful vision
bade the fears subside.
She saw descending to the world below
An ancient form, with
solemn pace and slow.
"Daughter, no more be sad" (the phantom
cried),
"Success is seldom to the wise denied;
In idle wishes fools
supinely stay,
Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way:
Why art
thou grieved? Be rather glad, that he
Who hates the happy, aims his
darts at thee,
But aims in vain; thy favour'd daughter lies
Serenely
blest, and shall to joy arise.
For, grant that curses on her name shall
wait,
(So Envy wills, and such the voice of Fate,)
Yet if that name
be prudently suppress'd,
She shall be courted, favour'd, and caress'd.
"For what are names? and where agree mankind,
In those to persons
or to acts assign'd?
Brave, learn'd, or wise, if some their favourites
call,
Have they the titles or the praise from all?
Not so, but others
will the brave disdain
As rash, and deem the sons of wisdom vain;

The self-same mind shall scorn or kindness move,
And the same deed
attract contempt and love.
"So all the powers who move the human soul,
With all the passions
who the will control,
Have various names--One giv'n by Truth Divine,

(As Simulation thus was fixed for mine,)
The rest by man, who
now, as wisdom's prize
My secret counsels, now as art despise;
One
hour,