5 What is Fame, bidding Envy defiance? What is Wit, what is Learning, or Science, 6 E'en Genius may weary the sight By too fierce and too constant a blaze ; But affection, mild planet of night! Grows lovelier the longer we gaze. 7 It shall thrive when the flattering forms It shall live 'mid the wide-wasting storms 8 When Time, at the end of his race, It shall stand on its permanent base, N XV. SMILES AND TEARS. BY MR. DIBDIN. 1 THE weather, the land, and all those that dwell in it, Like our minds that are chequer'd by hopes and by fears, In rapid succession change every minute, But the smiles and the tears the same motive revealing, Tho' opposite, similar passions excite, One the offspring of bounty, the other of feeling, Take different tacks to the road of delight, 2 When pants the parch'd earth, as its wounds require healing, For the shower, to put forward fresh blossoms and leaves; Nature, parent to all, with affectionate feeling, Benignly sheds tears as its wants she relieves. And when kindly refresh'd, as new beauties are springing, And the sun, in rich smiles, glads the gratified sight; Thankful birds on the glistening verdure are singing, And the smiles and the tears expand equal delight. 3 And so, 'twixt friend and friend, when a heartwounding sorrow Resolution o'ercomes, and sinks deep in the mind; From the tears of a friend flattering comfort we borrow, For the motive's sincere, and the action is kind: Nor when friendship's warm efforts o'ercome the vexation, Do our smiles, howe'er grateful, more pleasure excite, For they both have their source in the same sweet sensation, And convey to, the mind the same generous delight. INSPIR'D by so grateful a duty, I, to fill the sweet theme more completely, Where beams a benevolent smile. 2 While the heart some beneficent action O there I retreat from the sun's scorching ray, Or taste the fresh breeze in the cool of the day; There the black bird o'er head pours his sweet mellow song, The nightingale his varied notes will prolong; At morning or noon, in the evening or night, My Arbour is still the lov'd scene of delight. 2 With a book there I often my leisure employ, In the morning, &c. 3 The cares of the world never trouble my mind, All is calm and serene-to my lot I'm resign'd; War's murmurs are hush'd ere my Arbour they reach, Or are heard but the lesson of pity to teach.† * To behold the wand'ring moon, Riding near her highest noon. IL PENSEROSO. + Thus sitting, and surveying thus at ease The globe and its concerns, I seem advanc'd |