Such the blessings I bestow! Haste, my sons, these blessings know! Behold the flow'rets of the Spring, They wanton in the Zephyr's wing, They drink the matin ether blue, They sip the fragrant evening dew. Man is but a short-lived flower, His bloom but for a changeful hour! Pass a little time away, The rosy cheek is turn'd to clay: No living joys, no transports burn In the dark sepulchral urn, No _Laurels_ crown the fleshless brows, They fade together with the _Rose_. D.--1796. ODE TO SAINT MICHAEL'S MOUNT, IN CORNWALL. The sober eve with purple bright Sheds o'er the hills her tranquil light In many a lingering ray; The radiance trembles on the deep, Where rises rough thy rugged steep, Old Michael, from the sea. Around thy base, in azure pride, Flows the silver-crested tide, In gently winding waves; The Zephyr creeps thy cliffs around,-- Thy cliffs, with whispering ivy crown'd, And murmurs in thy caves. Majestic steep! Ah, yet I love, With many a lingering step, to rove Thy ivied rocks among; Thy ivied, wave-beat rocks recall The former pleasures of my soul, When life was gay and young. Enthusiasm, Nature's child, Here sung to me her wood-songs wild, All warm with native fire; I felt her soul-awakening flame, It bade my bosom burn for fame,-- It bade me strike the lyre. Soft as the Morning sheds her light Through the dark azure of the Night Along the tranquil sea; So soft the bright-eyed Fancy shed Her rapturing dreams around my head, And drove my cares away. When the white Moon with glory crown'd, The azure of the sky around, Her silver radiance shed; When shone the waves with trembling light, And slept the lustre palely bright Upon thy tower-clad head; Then BEAUTY bade my pleasure flow,-- Then BEAUTY bade my bosom glow, With mild and gentle fire! Then Mirth, and Cheerfulness, and Love, Around my soul were wont to move, And thrill'd upon my lyre. But when the Demon of the deep Howl'd around thy rocky steep, And bade the tempests rise,-- Bade the white foaming billows roar, And murmuring dash the rocky shore, And mingle with the skies; Ah, then my soul was raised on high, And felt the glow of ecstasy, With _great_ emotions fill'd; Thus Joy and Terror reign'd by turns, And now with LOVE the bosom burns, And now by FEAR is chill'd. Thus to the sweetest dreams resign'd, The fairy FANCY ruled my mind, And shone upon my youth; But now, to awful Reason given, I leave her dear ideal heaven To hear the voice of TRUTH.