ODE VIII. THE HERMIT's VISION. BY THE REV. THOMAS PENROSE. MILDLY beam'd the queen of night, But faintly shone the solitary scene, With deep'ning shadows mixt, and glitt❜ring breaks between. High on a cliffy steep, o'erspread And cast an umbered gloom and solemn awe beneath. High on a cliffy steep a Hermit sat, Weighing in his weaned mind The various turns of mortal fate, The various woes of human kind; Meek Pity's pearl oft started in his eye, And many a pray'r he pour'd, and heav'd a frequent sigh. Silent was all around, Save when the swelling breeze Convey'd the half-expiring sound Of distant waterfalls, and gently-waving trees. No tinkling folds, no curfew's parting knell Struck the sequester'd Anchoret's ear; Remote from men he scoop'd his narrow cell, For much he had endur'd, no more he look'd to fear. But still, the world's dark tempests past, Yet oft his voyage he'd ponder o'er; Oft in reflection life's rough ocean view, How mount the stormy waves, how hard to struggle through! Before his sage revolving eyes Joy led the van, in rapture wild, Hied from the frantic pageant far away; Joy led the van-her painted vest, Gay she stepp'd, till busy Fear "How many a cup is dash'd with gall, "How many an evil may befall!" Aghast awhile she heard the ruthful song, Then faster seiz'd the robe, and hastier danc'd along. Close Love follow'd in the train, 'Twixt Pride and lust of Grandeur led, By Phrenzy urg'd o'er every bar to rise, Wild as she rush'd, she scorn'd to mark the ground, Pale as the waning moon, With tear-stain'd cheek and stupid gaze, Withering before life's sunny noon, Grief crept along in sad amaze, By many a stroke to keenest misery brought, Now in a shower dissolv'd, now lost in inward thought. As the rous'd Tiger gaunt and fell With flashing glare and murd'rous yell- Too fierce for wounds or groans to feel, While far behind, with silent pace and slow, Patient the distant hour to wait, And hide with courteous smiles the blackest hate. 'Till time disarm'd the foe, then drove her poniard deep. To Malice link'd, as near allied, Envy march'd with baneful lour; Upheld by Falshood's feeble power. "No more!—no more !” the holy Seer exclaim'd, "Passions wild, unbroke, untam'd, "Must sure the human heart o'erthrow, "And plunge in all the energy of woe. "Grant then the boon, all-gracious Heav'n, "Let reason ever take the helm ; |