( 9 )
Affection frail! train'd up by sense,
from reason's channel strays:
And whilst it blindly points at peace,
our peace to pain betrays.
from reason's channel strays:
And whilst it blindly points at peace,
our peace to pain betrays.
Thought winds its fond, erroneous stream
from daily-dying flow'rs,
To nourish rich, immortal blooms,
in amaranthine bow'rs;
from daily-dying flow'rs,
To nourish rich, immortal blooms,
in amaranthine bow'rs;
Whence throngs, in extasy, look down
on what once shock'd their sight;
And thank the terrors of the past
for ages of delight.
on what once shock'd their sight;
And thank the terrors of the past
for ages of delight.
All withers here; who most possess
are losers by their gain,
Stung by full proof, that, bad at best,
life's idle All is vain:
are losers by their gain,
Stung by full proof, that, bad at best,
life's idle All is vain:
Vain, in its course, life's murm'ring stream;
did not its course offend,
But murmur cease; life, then, would seem
still vainer, from its end.
did not its course offend,
But murmur cease; life, then, would seem
still vainer, from its end.
How wretched! who, thro' cruel fate,
have nothing to lament?
With the poor alms this world affords,
deplorably content?
have nothing to lament?
With the poor alms this world affords,
deplorably content?
Had
