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Nor peace nor ease the heart can know,

Which, like the needle true,

Turns at the touch of joy or woe,
But, turning, trembles too.

Far, as distress the soul can wound,
'Tis pain in each degree:
'Tis bliss but to a certain bound;

Beyond, is agony.

Take then this treacherous sense of mine,
Which dooms me still to smart;
Which pleasure can to pain refine,
To pains new pangs impart.

Oh, haste to shed the sacred balm!
My shatter'd nerves new string;
And for my guest, serenely calm,
The nymph Indifference bring.

At her approach, see Hope, see Fear,
See Expectation fly;

And Disappointment in the rear,
That blasts the promis'd joy.

The tear which Pity taught to flow,
The eye shall then disown;

The heart that melts for others woe

Shall then scarce feel its own.

The wounds which now each moment bleed,

Each moment then shall close,

And tranquil days shall still succeed

To nights of calm repose.

O fairy elf! but grant me this,
This one kind comfort send;
And so may never-fading bliss
Thy flow'ry paths attend!

So may the glow-worm's glimmering light
Thy tiny footsteps lead,

To some new region of delight,
Unknown to mortal tread.

And be thy acorn goblet fill'd

With heaven's ambrosial dew,
From sweetest, freshest flow'rs distill'd,
That shed fresh sweets for you.

And what of life remains for me

I'll pass in sober ease;
Half-pleas'd, contented will I be,
Content but half to please.



WITHOUT preamble, to my friend
These hasty lines I'm bid to send,
Or give, if I am able!

I dare not hesitate to say-
Though I have trembled all the day,
It looks so like a fable-

Last night's adventure is my theme;
And should it strike you as a dream,
Yet soon its high import

Must make you own the matter such,
So delicate, it were too much

To be compos'd in sport.

Fair Luna shone serenely bright,
And every star bedeck'd the night,
While Zephyr fann'd the trees;
No sound assail'd my mind's repose,
Save that yon stream, which murmuring flows,
Still echo'd to the breeze.

Enwrapt in solemn thoughts I sate,
Revolving o'er the turns of fate,

Yet void of hope or fear;

When lo! behold an airy throng,

With lightest steps, and jocund song,

Surpris'd my eye and ear.

A form superior to the rest

His little voice to me addrest,

And gently thus began:

"I've heard strange things from one of you, Pray, tell me if you think 'tis true; Explain it if you can.

"Such incense has perfum'd my throne,
Such eloquence my heart has won,
I think I guess the hand:

I know her wit and beauty too,

But why she sends a pray'r so new

I cannot understand.

To light some flames, and some revive,

To keep some others just alive,

Full oft I am implor'd:

But, with peculiar power to please,

To supplicate for nought but ease,—

'Tis odd upon my word!

"Tell her, with fruitless care I've sought,

And though my realms with wonder fraught,

In remedies abound,

No grain of cold indifference

Was ever yet ally'd to sense,

In all my fairy round.

"The regions of the sky I'd trace, I'd ransack every earthly place,

Each leaf, each herb, each flower, To mitigate the pangs of Fear, Dispel the clouds of black Despair, Or lull the restless hour.

"I would be generous as I'm just,
But I obey, as others must,

Those laws which Fate has made:
My tiny kingdom how defend,
And what might be the horrid end,
Should man my state invade?

"Twould put your mind into a rage, And such unequal war to wage Suits not my regal duty!

I dare not change a first decree,

She's doom'd to please, nor can be free

Such is the lot of beauty!"

This said, he darted o'er the plain,

And after follow'd all his train;

No glimpse of him I find:

But sure I am, the little sprite

These words, before he took his flight,

Imprinted on my mind.

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