So filial love, with soothing voice,
E’en then shall teach thee to rejoice;
E’en then shall sweeter, milder sound,
When sorrow’s tempest raves around;
While dark misfortune’s gales destroy,
The frail mimosa-buds of hope and joy!
TO MY YOUNGER BROTHER,
ON HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN, AFTER THE FATAL RETREAT UNDER SIR JOHN MOORE, AND THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA.
Though dark are the prospects and heavy the hours,
Though life is a desert, and cheerless the way;