Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1902-05-03

NHE HOME @lR@EE i
THE PLEASURES OF HOPE.

~ Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near?-
IT'S distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Thus with delight, we linger to survey
The promised joys of life's unmeasured way;
Thus from affair." each dim scover'd scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath been
And every form, that Fancy repair
From dark oblivion, glows diviney there
What potent spirit guides the raptured eye
To pierce the shades of dim futurty?
Can Wisdom lend with all her heavenly power,
The pledge of Joys anticipated hour?
All no she darby the fate of man
Her dim horizon bounded to span
Or, if she hold an image to the view,
IT'S nature pictured too severely true.
With thee sweet HOPE resides the heavenly light
That pours remotest rapture on the sight
Thine is the charm of lifes bewlder'd way,
That calls each slumbering passion into play.
Walked by thy touch, l see the sister band,
On tiptoe watching, start at thy command,
And fly where'er thy mandate bids them steer,
To Pleasures path, or Glory's bright career.
Prmeval Hope the Aonian MUSES. say,
When Man and Nature mournd their first decay
When every form of death, and every VICE.
Shot from malignant stars to earth below;
When Murder barred her arm, and rampant War
Yoked the red dragons Of her iron car;
When Peace and Mercy, banish'd from the plain
Sprung on the viewess winds to heaven again;
All, all forsook the friendless, guilty mind,
But HOPE, the charmer, linger'd still behind.
Thus, while Elijahs burning wheels prepare
From Carme's heights to sweep the fields of air,
The prophets MANTLE ere his flight began,
AZ &c
Auspcious Hope in thy sweet garden grow
Wreaths for each toll, a charm for every woe;
Won by their sweets, in Natures anguid hour,
The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower;
There, as the wild bee murmurs on the wing,
What peaceful dreams thy handmade spirits bring
What viewless forms tn Eolian organ play,
And sweep the furowd lines of anxious thoughts away
Angel Of life thy gltterng wings explore
Earth's onelest bounds, and Oceans widest shore.
Lo to the wintry winds the pilot yields
His bark careering DER unfathom'd fields;
Now on Atlantic he rides affair."
Where Andes, giant of the western STAR
With meeor-sandard to the winds unur'd,
Looks from his throne of clouds DER half the world
Now far he sweeps, where summer SMILES
On Behring's rocks, Greenland's naked isles
Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow,
From wastes that sumber in eternal snow
And watt, across the waves tumutuous roar,
The VOLTS long howl from Oonalaskas shore.
Poor child of danger nursing of the storm,
Sad are the that wreck thy manly form
Rocks, waves, and winds, the SHATTERED bark delay;
Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away
But HOPE can here her moonlight vigils keep,
And sing to charm the spirit of the deep
Swift yon streamer lights the starry POLE
Her visions warm the waChman's pensve soul
His native hills that rise in happier chimes,
The grot that heard his song of other times
His cottage home, his bark of slender SAIL
His CLASSY lake, and broomwood- blossom'd vale
Rush on his thought he sweeps before the wind,
Treads the loved shore he sighd to leave behind
Meets at each step friends familiar face,
And flies at last to Helens long embrace
Wipes from her cheek the rapturespeakng tear
And clasps with many SIGH his children dear
While, long neglected, but at length caress'd,
His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest,
Points to the masters eyes (where'er they roam)
His wistful face, and whnes welcome home.
Friend of the brave in perPs darkest hour,
Intrepid Virtue looks to thee for power;
To thee the heart its trembling homage yields,
On stormy foods and carnage -coverd fields,
When front to front the bannerd hosts combine,
Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line.
When all is still on Deaths devoted soil,
The march-worn soldier minges for the toll
AS rings his gtering tube, he lifts on high
The dauntless brow, and spir-speakng eye,
Halls in his heart the triumph yet to come,
And hears thy stormy music in the drum
And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore
The hardy Byron to his native shore