'Oh, wake thee, rouse thy spirit! Shall the spite Of yon tormentor thus appal thy heart, While I, thy friend and guardian, am at hand To rescue and to heal? Oh, let thy soul Remember, what the will of heaven ordains Is ever good for all; and if for all, 550 Then good for thee. Nor only by the warmth And soothing sunshine of delightful things, Do minds grow up and flourish. Oft misled By that bland light, the young unpractised views Of reason wander through a fatal road, Far from their native aim; as if to lie Inglorious in the fragrant shade, and wait The soft access of ever circling joys, Were all the end of being. Ask thyself, This pleasing error did it never lull 560 Thy wishes? Has thy constant heart refused The silken fetters of delicious ease? Or when divine Euphrosyne appear'd Within this dwelling, did not thy desires Hang far below the measure of thy fate, Which I reveal'd before thee, and thy eyes, Impatient of my counsels, turn away To drink the soft effusion of her smiles? Know then, for this the everlasting Sire Deprives thee of her presence, and instead, 570 O wise and still benevolent! ordains This horrid visage hither to pursue My steps; that so thy nature may discern Its real good, and what alone can save Thy feeble spirit in this hour of ill From folly and despair. O yet beloved! Let not this headlong terror quite o'erwhelm Thy scatter'd powers; nor fatal deem the rage Of this tormentor, nor his proud assault, While I am here to vindicate thy toil, 580 Above the generous question of thy arm. Brave by thy fears and in thy weakness strong, This hour he triumphs: but confront his might, And dare him to the combat, then with ease Disarm'd and quell'd, his fierceness he resigns To bondage and to scorn: while thus inured By watchful danger, by unceasing toil, The immortal mind, superior to his fate, Amid the outrage of external things, Firm as the solid base of this great world, 590 Rests on his own foundations. Blow, ye winds! Ye waves! ye thunders! roll your tempest on; Shake, ye old pillars of the marble sky! Till all its orbs and all its worlds of fire Be loosen'd from their seats; yet still serene, The unconquer'd mind looks down upon the wreck; And ever stronger as the storms advance, Firm through the closing ruin holds his way, Where Nature calls him to the destined goal.' So spake the goddess; while through all her frame 600 Celestial raptures flow'd, in every word, In every motion kindling warmth divine To seize who listen'd. Vehement and swift As lightning fires the aromatic shade In Aethiopian fields, the stripling felt Her inspiration catch his fervid soul, And starting from his languor thus exclaim'd:--