Each star decline, and pale its wonted beams!
So, when Ambition hath from life’s low vale
Our footsteps lured, when, danger’s path defied,
We’ve gain’d at length, with fortune’s fav’ring gale,
The “promised land,”—the pinnacle of pride,—
The phantom Bliss thus mocks our cheated eyes,
For, as we mount, the dear delusion flies!
TO ——.
Meekness, Sincerity, and Candour, seem
Enshrined in that sweet smile, and calm, clear brow;