By living waters and through flowery meads,

Where all is smiling, tranquil, and serene;

And vernal beauty paints the flattering scene;

Oh! teach me to elude each latent snare,

And whisper to my sliding heart—Beware!

With caution let me hear the syren’s voice,

And doubtful with a trembling heart rejoice.

Mrs. Barbauld.

Graces withered by too warm a beam,

May spread and flourish in the dreary shade: