rough all my varying song,
And shine in every strain.
[Cunningham, "Ode to the New Year, 1769" (here from _Poems on
various subjects..._, ed. Thomas Tomkins 1780), stz. 5-6:
O thou! alike where perfect day
In bright refulgent glories play,
Around thy awful throne!
When seraphs glow with sacred fires,
When angels tune celestial lyres,
To hymn thy praise alone!
Still may thy providential care
With blessings crown the rising year!
Impending ills restrain!
Thy wisdom guide my youthful muse!
Thy sacred eloquence diffuse,
And consecrate my strain!]
Give me the calm, the soft serene,
Of summer, when it glads the scene,
And scatters peace around;
Bless'd image of the happy soul.
That does the heav'n-born mind control,
While conscious joys abound.
That this may be my bounteous share,
Ascends my ever constant prayer
To Thee, all-perfect Mind!
O, aid me in the gen'rous strife,
Through each inconstant scene of life,
To all thy ways resign'd.
[same, stz. 10-11:
Unlike its placid form, serene,
When Zephyr breathing o'er the scene,
Sheds balmy peace around;
Bless'd emblem of the conquering soul,
Whose every passion knows controul,
While conscious joys abound!
That this may prove my bounteous share,
Ascends my ever constant prayer,
To thee, all perfect mind;
O aid me in the arduous strife,
Through each perplexing maze of life,
To all thy ways resign'd!]
CHAPTER II.
The scenes that once so brilliant shone are past, and can return
no more to cheer the pensive heart; and memory recalls them with
a tear; some lowering cloud succeeds, and all the gay delusive
landscape fades.
[On the Death of a Friend and Schoolfellow (here from "Poetical
Essays" in _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. 32, 1762), opening lines:
Scarce rolls, alas! o'er mortal buds a year,
But claims afresh the tributary tear:
Soon each fair hope some lowering cloud invades,
And all the gay delusive landscape fades.]
While Alida remained at the village school, surrounded by the festive
scenes of childhood, and pursuing her studies with assiduous emulation,
with the hope of meriting, in future time, the praises of her fond
parents, an unforeseen misfortune awaited her that no human fores
|