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THE TRIUMPHS


Ah, fruitless prayer! her panting breast behold!
See! the gauze shakes in many a ruffled fold!
Forc'd from their station by her heaving heart,
From the strain'd girdle thrice three spangles start:
Thro' her disorder'd dress a pass they've found,
And fallen, see, they glitter on the ground!—
O blessed chance! with life-recalling light
The glittering monitors attract her sight!
Like stars emerging from the darken'd pole,
They sparkle safety to her harass'd soul.
See! from her brow the clouds of trouble fly,
Vexation's tear is vanish'd from her eye!
Her rosy cheeks with Joy's new radiance burn,
Like nature smiling at the sun's return;
The nymph, no more with mental darkness blind,
Shines the sweet ruler of her rescu'd mind.
Hence, hateful Spleen! thy fancied prize resign,
Renounce for ever what shall ne'er be thine;
For, conscious of her airy guardian's aid,
She feels new spirit thro' her heart convey'd,