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: