LINES IN LAURA’S ALBUM.
(These lines, were written at the desire of a young lady, who requested some verses on a cameo in her possession.)
See with what ease the child-like god
Assumes his reins, and shakes his rod;
How gaily, like a smiling boy,
He seems his triumphs to enjoy,
And looks as innocently mild
As if he were indeed a child!
But in that meekness who shall tell
What vengeance sleeps, what terrors dwell?
By him are tamed the fierce—the bold
And haughty are by him controll’d; 10
The hero of th’ ensanguined field
Finds there is neither sword nor shield
Availing here. Amid his books
The student thinks how Laura looks;
The miser’s self, with heart of lead,
With all the nobler feelings fled,
Has thrown his darling treasures by,
And sigh’d for something worth a sigh.
Love over gentle natures reigns,
A gentle master; yet his pains 20
Are felt by them, are felt by all,
The bitter sweet, the honied gall,
Soft pleasing tears, heart-soothing sighs,
Sweet pain, and joys that agonise.
Against a power like this, what arts,
What virtues, can secure our hearts?
In vain are both—the good, the wise,
Have tender thoughts and wandering eyes;
And then, to banish Virtue’s fear,
Like Virtue’s self will Love appear; 30
Bid every anxious feeling cease,
And all be confidence and peace.
He such insidious method takes,
He seems to heal the wound he makes;
Till, master of the human breast,
He shows himself the foe of rest,
Pours in his doubts, his dread, his pains,
And now a very tyrant reigns.
If, then, his power we cannot shun,
And must endure—what can be done? 40
To whom, thus bound, can we apply?—
To Prudence, as our best ally:
For she, like Pallas, for the fight
Can arm our eye with clearer sight;
Can teach the happy art that gains
A captive who will grace our chains,
And, as we must the dart endure,
To bear the wound we cannot cure.