Though the poisonous charms Of baleful Superstition guide the feet Of servile numbers, through a dreary way To their abode, through deserts, thorns, and mire; And leave the wretched pilgrim all forlorn To muse at last, amid the ghostly gloom Of graves, and hoary vaults, and cloister'd cells; To walk with spectres through the midnight shade, And to the screaming owl's accursed song Attune the dreadful workings of his heart; 400 Yet be not ye dismay'd. A gentler star Your lovely search illumines. From the grove Where Wisdom talk'd with her Athenian sons, Could my ambitious hand entwine a wreath Of Plato's olive with the Mantuan bay, Then should my powerful verse at once dispel Those monkish horrors: then in light divine Disclose the Elysian prospect, where the steps Of those whom Nature charms, through blooming walks, Through fragrant mountains and poetic streams, 410 Amid the train of sages, heroes, bards, Led by their winged Genius, and the choir Of laurell'd science and harmonious art, Proceed exulting to the eternal shrine, Where Truth conspicuous with her sister-twins, The undivided partners of her sway, With Good and Beauty reigns. Oh, let not us, Lull'd by luxurious Pleasure's languid strain, Or crouching to the frowns of bigot rage, Oh, let us not a moment pause to join 420 That godlike band. And if the gracious Power Who first awaken'd my untutor'd song, Will to my invocation breathe anew The tuneful spirit; then through all our paths, Ne'er shall the sound of this devoted lyre Be wanting; whether on the rosy mead, When summer smiles, to warn the melting heart Of luxury's allurement; whether firm Against the torrent and the stubborn hill To urge bold Virtue's unremitted nerve, 430 And wake the strong divinity of soul That conquers chance and fate; or whether struck For sounds of triumph, to proclaim her toils Upon the lofty summit, round her brow To twine the wreath of incorruptive praise; To trace her hallow'd light through future worlds, And bless Heaven's image in the heart of man.