Hapless the lad whose mind such dreams invade,
440
And win to verse the talents due to trade.
Curb, then, O youth! these raptures as they rise;
Keep down the evil spirit and be wise;
Follow your calling, think the Muses foes,
Nor lean upon the pestle and compose.
I know your day-dreams, and I know the snare
Hid in your flow'ry path, and cry "Beware."
Thoughtless of ill, and to the future blind,