146
Should bound mine eyes; aye and my wishes too,
For I would have no hope or fear beyond.
The empty turmoil of the worthless world,
Its vanities and vices would not vex
My quiet heart. The traveller, who beheld
The low tower of the little pile, might deem
It were the house of God: nor would he err
So deeming, for that home would be the home
Of Peace and Love, and they would hallow it
To Him. Oh life of blessedness! to reap
The fruit of honourable toil, and bound
Our wishes with our wants! delightful Thoughts
That sooth the solitude of maniac Hope,
Ye leave her to reality awak'd,
Like the poor captive, from some fleeting dream
Of friends and liberty and home restor'd,
Startled, and listening as the midnight storm
Beats hard and heavy thro' his dungeon bars.
1796.
For I would have no hope or fear beyond.
The empty turmoil of the worthless world,
Its vanities and vices would not vex
My quiet heart. The traveller, who beheld
The low tower of the little pile, might deem
It were the house of God: nor would he err
So deeming, for that home would be the home
Of Peace and Love, and they would hallow it
To Him. Oh life of blessedness! to reap
The fruit of honourable toil, and bound
Our wishes with our wants! delightful Thoughts
That sooth the solitude of maniac Hope,
Ye leave her to reality awak'd,
Like the poor captive, from some fleeting dream
Of friends and liberty and home restor'd,
Startled, and listening as the midnight storm
Beats hard and heavy thro' his dungeon bars.
1796.
