"When conquering millions hail thy sovereign might,
And tribes unknown dread acclamation join;
How wilt thou spurn the forms of low delight!
For all the ecstasies of heaven are thine:
"For thine the joys, that fear no length of days,
Whose wide effulgence scorns all mortal bound:
Fame's trump in thunder shall announce thy praise,
Nor bursting worlds her clarion's blast confound."
The goddess ceas'd, not dubious of the prize:
Elate she mark'd his wild and rolling eye,
Mark'd his lip quiver, and his bosom rise,
And his warm cheek suffus'd with crimson dye.
But Pallas now drew near. Sublime, serene
In conscious dignity, she view'd the swain;
Then, love and pity softening all her mien,
Thus breathed with accents mild the solemn strain.
"Let those, whose arts to fatal paths betray,
The soul with passion's gloom tempestuous blind,
And snatch from Reason's ken th' auspicious ray
Truth darts from Heaven to guide th' exploring mind.
"But Wisdom loves the calm and serious hour,
When Heaven's pure emanation beams confess'd:
Rage, ecstasy, alike disclaim her power,
She wooes each gentler impulse of the breast.
"Sincere th' unalter'd bliss her charms impart,
Sedate th' enlivening ardours they inspire:
She bids no transient rapture thrill the heart,
She wakes no feverish gust of fierce desire.
"Unwise, who, tossing on the watery way,
All to the storm th' unfetter'd sail devolve:
Man more unwise resigns the mental sway,
Borne headlong on by passion's keen resolve.
"While storms remote but murmur on thine ear,
Nor waves in ruinous uproar round thee roll,
Yet, yet a moment check thy prone career,
And curb the keen resolve that prompts thy soul.
"Explore thy heart, that, rous'd by Glory's name,
Pants all enraptur'd with the mighty charm—
And, does Ambition quench each milder flame?
And is it conquest that alone can warm?