With mirthful dance they beat the ground,
Their shouts of joy the hills resound
And catch the jocund noise: 15
Without a tear, without a sigh
Their moments all in transports fly
Till evening ends their joys.
Verse 4th
But little think their joyous hearts
Of dire Misfortune's varied smarts 20
Which youthful years conceal:
Thoughtless of bitter-smiling Woe
Which all mankind are born to know
And they themselves must feel.
Yet he who Wisdom's paths shall keep 25
And Virtue firm that scorns to weep
At ills in Fortune's power,
Through this life's variegated scene
In raging storms or calm serene
Shall cheerful spend the hour. 30
Verse 6th
While steady Virtue guides his mind
Heav'n-born Content he still shall find
That never sheds a tear:
Without respect to any tide
His hours away in bliss shall glide 35
Like Easter all the year.
1787.