And show’st a structure beautiful and chaste.
Thou lookest backward o’er life’s dreary waste,
And gath’rest flowers thy home to beautify;
But all the thorns that in thy path were placed,
Thou leavest there upon the path to die:
O, Memory! thou hast a wise discerning eye!
XI.
And skilfully thou hast the art to paint
Most beautiful perspectives. Lights and shades
So blended, that the darkest shades grow faint,