His young cheek even now is scarcely cold, And shall his early doom remain untold? No! let the tide of passion roll along, Truth _will_ be heard, and GOD will bless the song Indignant Reason, Pity, Joy, arise, And speak in thunder to the heart that sighs: Speak loud to parents;--knew ye not the time When age itself, and manhood's hardy prime, With horror saw their short-liv'd friendships end. Yet dar'd not visit e'en the dying friend? Contagion, a foul serpent lurking near, Mock'd Nature's sigh and Friendship's holy tear. Love ye your children?--let that love arise, Pronounce the sentence, and the serpent dies; Bid welcome a mild stranger at your door, Distress shall cease, those terrors reign no more. Love ye your neighbours?--let that love be shown; Risk not _their_ children while you guard your own; Give not a foe dominion o'er your blood, Plant not a poison, e'en to bring forth good; For, woo the pest discreetly as you will, Deadly infection must attend him still. Then, let the serpent die! this glorious prize Sets more than life and health before our eyes, For beauty triumphs too! Beauty! sweet name, The mother's feelings kindling into flame! For, where dwells she, who, while the virtues grow. With cold indifference marks the arching brow? Or, with a lifeless heart and recreant blood, Sighs not for daughters fair as well as good? That sigh is nature, and cannot decay, 'Tis universal as the beams of day; Man knows and feels its truth; for, Beauty's call Rouses the coldest mortal of us all; A glance warms age itself, and gives the boy The pulse of rapture and the sigh of joy. And is it then no conquest to insure Our lilies spotless and our roses pure? Is it no triumph that the lovely face Inherits every line of Nature's grace? That the sweet precincts of the laughing eye Dread no rude scars, no foul deformity? Our boast, old Time himself shall not impair. Of British maids pre-eminently fair; But, as he rolls his years on years along, Shall keep the record of immortal song; For song shall rise with ampler power to speak The new-born influence of Beauty's cheek, Shall catch new fires in every sacred grove, Fresh inspiration from the lips of Love, And write for ever on the rising mind-- DEAD IS ONE MORTAL FOE OF HUMAN KIND!