Think of the foes forever hovering round,

Το

urge the open blow, or secret wound.

What poisonous serpents lurk midst Pleasure's

flowers!

What demons, angel-seeming, haunt her bowers!

Attained their limits, that rash Youth survey,

Fresh as the morn, and as the sky-lark gay;
She spreads her charms, displays her winning wiles,
And draws him with the magic of her smiles.

Forbear, forbear! avoid her dangerous seat;
Retreat, while Innocence secures retreat!

Her arm is stretched to save, her voice of love
Invites thy footsteps from th' enchanted grove.
In vain her warning voice, her glance in vain,
More eloquent, implores him to refrain.

He moves ;-the line irremeable is past,

The spell imposed, which lasts while time shall last; His Seraph-guardian sheds from sorrowing eyes

Such tears as angels weep, and heavenward flies.

Light, as unchained, the victim bounds along,
Shines in the dance, and swells the festive song;
Twines wreathes of freshest roses for his brow,

To yielding beauty breathes his burning vow;
Awakes the blush voluptuous, and receives

Those joys, which love, divorced from virtue, gives.

Short joys! In flight, their pinions are display'd, Before the roses of his chaplet fade.

Less swift exhale the dew drops from the thorn,

Than perish the vain joys that vice adorn.

Lo, while in pleasure's lap her votary lies,

Love in his glances, rapture in his sighs,
Shame on his secret haunts delights to glide,

Expands the portal, bids the world deride :

Then, all his bliss disclosed to blasting eyes,

With more than lightning-speed the demon flies,
Mountains pervades, o'er swelling seas is borne,
And teaches echo's voice the lengthened laugh of scorn.

Does Love, does Courage ward the shaft of Shame, As guards the laurel from the lightning's flame?* More potent fiends shall rise, and weave a spell, Which Courage cannot break, nor Love repel.

"Lauri fruticem non icit," says Pliny. This error, once popular, is now exploded, but it is not, perhaps, unfitted for the purposes of poetry.

Lo, Poverty! (d) Her freezing influence spreads

Decay and desolation where she treads;

Pale at her touch the cheek of beauty grows,

And, shuddering at her aspect, flies repose.

Behold Disease his proteus-form display,

And shock with scenes of agony the day ;

Now on his prey with fiery talons dart,

Now shoot his venomed arrows through the heart, '

Or pour of pestilence the yellow flood,

Or tear the turgid veins, and feast on blood.

Lo, Age! with palsied limbs and leaden eyes,

From whose faint grasp indignant Pleasure flies;

And, direst far of all the fiends who shed

Infernal plagues on man's devoted head,

Remorse, with eyes reverted oft to trace

The conscious crime that holds his steps in chase;

Remorse, delighted quivering hearts to tear,

Whose touch is anguish, and whose shriek despair; Dread Powers of utter darkness, ye shall give

Tortures that make it Heaven's worst curse to live!

By you obscured, the day, that shone so bright,
Shall close, ere noon, in storms and endless night!

Wealth! Power! With them do truer joys abound? Do their domains no evils compass round?

Dark, as yon clouds o'er Pentland's hills that lower, Appear the legions guarding wealth and power. Stern on their frontiers, pale Suspicions keep

Relentless watch, that knows not rest or sleep.

There Danger joys his fiery bands to form,

His glance the flash of Heaven, his step the storm;

There Hate, whose day-dreams scenes of blood defile,(e)

Deceit, who wears a dagger and a smile;

E