And now the shepherd rais'd his pensive head:
Yet unresolv'd and fearful rov'd his eyes,
Scared at the glances of the awful maid;
For young unpractis'd guilt distrusts the guise
Of shameless Arrogance. His wavering breast,
Though warm'd by Wisdom, own'd no constant fire;
While lawless Fancy roam'd afar, unblest
Save in th' oblivious lap of soft Desire.
When thus the queen of soul-dissolving smiles.
"Let gentle fates my darling prince attend:
Joyless and cruel are the warrior's spoils,
Dreary the path stern Virtue's sons ascend.
"Of human joy full short is the career,
And the dread verge still gains upon your sight:
While idly gazing, far beyond your sphere,
Ye scan the dream of unapproach'd delight;
"Till every sprightly hour and blooming scene
Of life's gay morn unheeded glides away,
And clouds of tempests mount the blue serene,
And storm and ruin close the troublous day.
"Thou still exult to hail the present joy,
Thine be the boon that comes unearn'd by toil;
No forward vain desire thy bliss annoy,
No flattering hope thy longing hours beguile.
"Ah! why should man pursue the charms of Fame,
For ever luring, yet forever coy?
Light as the gaudy rainbow's pillar'd gleam,
That melts illusive from the wondering boy!
"What though her throne irradiate many a clime,
If hung loose-tottering o'er th' unfathom'd tomb?
What though her mighty clarion, rear'd sublime,
Display the imperial wreath and glittering plume?
"Can glittering plume, or can the imperial wreath
Redeem from unrelenting fate the brave?
What note of triumph can her clarion breathe,
T' alarm th' eternal midnight of the grave?
"That night draws on: nor will the vacant hour
Of expectation linger as it flies;
Nor Fate one moment unenjoy'd restore:
Each moment's flight how precious to the wise!