imitation of the minstrel.
43
Grim satire him appals with frequent cry,
And flaps her harpy wings, while envious Pride
Mocks from his side fair Hope, his comfort and his guide!
And flaps her harpy wings, while envious Pride
Mocks from his side fair Hope, his comfort and his guide!
Yet, tho' the way be rude, and wild, and steep,
Tho' satire's irksome scream be in mine ear,
Yet will I toil the upward path to keep,
Inflexible amid those phantoms drear,
Envy, and lurking Hate, and Scorn severe;
For should my feet yon shining summit gain,
And should I grasp at length the prize so dear,
Oh! what were labour, weariness, and pain,
The meed, the immortal meed of glory to obtain!
Tho' satire's irksome scream be in mine ear,
Yet will I toil the upward path to keep,
Inflexible amid those phantoms drear,
Envy, and lurking Hate, and Scorn severe;
For should my feet yon shining summit gain,
And should I grasp at length the prize so dear,
Oh! what were labour, weariness, and pain,
The meed, the immortal meed of glory to obtain!
Methinks, arrived at Fame's eternal dome,
Already round my brow her leaves entwine;
Smiling, I mark how Time's o'erwhelming gloom
Steals silently o'er many a soul supine,
Already round my brow her leaves entwine;
Smiling, I mark how Time's o'erwhelming gloom
Steals silently o'er many a soul supine,
