Thou who, securely lull'd in youth's warm ray, Mark'st not the desolations wrought by Time, Be roused or perish. Ardent for its prey, Speeds the fell hour that ravages thy prime. 44 And, 'midst the horrors shrined of midnight storm, The fiend Oblivion eyes thee from afar, Black with intolerable frowns her form, Beckoning the embattled whirlwinds into war. 45 Fanes, bulwarks, mountains, worlds, their tempest whelms; Yet glory braves unmoved the impetuous sweep. Fly then, ere, hurl'd from life's delightful realms, Thou sink to Oblivion's dark and boundless deep. 46 Fly, then, where Glory points the path sublime, See her crown dazzling with eternal light! 'Tis Juno prompts thy daring steps to climb, And girds thy bounding heart with matchless might. 47 Warm in the raptures of divine desire, Burst the soft chain that curbs the aspiring mind; And fly where Victory, borne on wings of fire, Waves her red banner to the rattling wind. 48 Ascend the car: indulge the pride of arms, Where clarions roll their kindling strains on high, Where the eye maddens to the dread alarms, And the long shout tumultuous rends the sky. 49 Plunged in the uproar of the thundering field, I see thy lofty arm the tempest guide: Fate scatters lightning from thy meteor-shield, And Ruin spreads around the sanguine tide. 50 Go, urge the terrors of thy headlong car On prostrate Pride, and Grandeur's spoils o'erthrown, While all amazed even heroes shrink afar, And hosts embattled vanish at thy frown. 51 When glory crowns thy godlike toils, and all The triumph's lengthening pomp exalts thy soul, When lowly at thy feet the mighty fall, And tyrants tremble at thy stern control: 52 When conquering millions hail thy sovereign might, And tribes unknown dread acclamation join; How wilt thou spurn the forms of low delight! For all the ecstasies of heaven are thine: 53 For thine the joys, that fear no length of days, Whose wide effulgence scorns all mortal bound: Fame's trump in thunder shall announce thy praise, Nor bursting worlds her clarion's blast confound." 54 The Goddess ceased, not dubious of the prize: Elate she mark'd his wild and rolling eye, Mark'd his lip quiver, and his bosom rise, And his warm cheek suffused with crimson dye. 55 But Pallas now drew near. Sublime, serene, In conscious dignity she view'd the swain: Then, love and pity softening all her mien, Thus breathed with accents mild the solemn strain: 56 "Let those whose arts to fatal paths betray, The soul with passion's gloom tempestuous blind, And snatch from Reason's ken the auspicious ray Truth darts from heaven to guide the exploring mind. 57