« EdellinenJatka »
And if in them you chance to find
Ought that is gentle, ought that's kind,
Adieu mean hopes of being great,
And all the littleness of state.
All thoughts of grandeur I'll despise,
Which from dependence take their rise ;
To serve her shall be my employ,
And love's sweet agony my joy.
HE blooming damsel, whose defence
Is adamantine innocence,
Requires no guardian to attend
Her steps, for modesty’s her friend:
Tho' her fair arms are weak to wield
The glitt’ring spear, and maffy shield ;
Yet safe from force and fraud combin'd,
She is an Amazon in mind.
D : 2
With this artillery fhe goes,
Not only ’mongst the harmless beaux :
But even unhurt and undismay’d,
Views the long sword and fierce cockade.
Tho' all a syren as she talks,
And all a goddess as she walks,
Yet decency each action guides,
And wisdom o'er her tongue presides,
Place her in Russia's showery plains,
Where a perpetual winter reigns,
The elements may rave and range,
Yet her fix'd mind will never change.
Place her, Ambition, in thy tow'rs,
'Mongst the more dang’rous golden show'rs,
E'en there she'd spurn the venal tribe,
And fold her arms against the bribe.
Leave her defenceless and alone,
A pris’ner in the torrid zone,
The sunshine there might vainly vie
With the bright lustre of her eye;
But Phæbus' felf, with all his fire,
Cou'd ne'er one unchaste thought inspire:
But virtue's path she'd still pursue,
And fill, my fair, wou'd copy you.
F all my experience how vast the amount,
Since fifteen long winters I fairly can count!
Was ever a damsel so sadly betray'd,
To live to these years and yet still be a maid ?
Ye heroes triumphant, by land and by sea,
Sworn vote’ries to love, but undmindful of me;
You can storm a strong fort, or can form a blockade,
Yet ye stand by, like daftards, and see me a maid.
Ye lawyers fo just, who with slippery tongue,
Can do what you please, or with right, or with wrong,
Can it be, or by law or by equity said,
That a buxom young girl ought to die an old maid
Ye learned physicians, whose excellent skill
Can save, or demolish, can cure, or can kill,
To a poor, forlorn damsel contribute your aid,
Who is sick --- very fick -- of remaining a maid.
Ye fops, I invoke, not to lift to my song,
Who answer no end --- and to no
and to no sex belong; Ye echoes of echoes, and shadows of shade For if I had you ---- I might ftill be a maid.
E ancient patriarchs of the wood,
That veil around these awful glooms,
Who many a century have stood
In verdant age, that ever blooms.
Ye Gothic tow'rs, by vapours dense,
Obfcur'd into severer state,
In pastoral magnificence
At once so simple and so great.
Why all your jealous shades on me,
Ye hoary elders do ye spread ?
Fair Innocence shou'd still be free,
Nought shou'd be chain'd, but what we dread.
Say, muft these tears for ever flow?
Can I from patience learn content,
While solitude still nurses woe,
And leaves me leisure to lament.
My guardian see l---who wards off peace,
Whose cruelty is his employ,
Who bids the tongue of transport cease,
And stops each avenue to joy ?
Freedom of air alone is giv’n,,
To aggravate, not footh my grief, To view th’immensely-distant heav'n,
My nearest prospect of relief..