ODES.
99
To him came a man of power,
To him, in a cheerless hour;
When the swain, by Druids taught,
Soon divin'd his irksom thought, 20
Soon the maple harp he strung,
Soon, with silver accent, sung.
To him, in a cheerless hour;
When the swain, by Druids taught,
Soon divin'd his irksom thought, 20
Soon the maple harp he strung,
Soon, with silver accent, sung.
"Steerer of a mighty realm,
"Pilot, waking o'er the helm, 24
"Blessing of thy native soil,
"Weary of a thankless toil,
"Cast repining thought behind,
"Give thy trouble to the wind. 28
"Mortal, destin'd to excell,
"Bear the blame of doing well,
"Like the Worthies great of old,
"In the list of Fame enroll'd. 32
"What, though titles thou decline?
"Still the more thy virtues shine.
"Envy, with her serpent eye,
"Marks each praise that soars on high. 36
"To thy lot resign thy will:
"Every good is mix'd with ill.
"Pilot, waking o'er the helm, 24
"Blessing of thy native soil,
"Weary of a thankless toil,
"Cast repining thought behind,
"Give thy trouble to the wind. 28
"Mortal, destin'd to excell,
"Bear the blame of doing well,
"Like the Worthies great of old,
"In the list of Fame enroll'd. 32
"What, though titles thou decline?
"Still the more thy virtues shine.
"Envy, with her serpent eye,
"Marks each praise that soars on high. 36
"To thy lot resign thy will:
"Every good is mix'd with ill.
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