Knowledge yields his lofty fruit
To those who climb with toil,
But Heaven's pure plant strikes deepest root
Where tears have dew'd the soil.
Hope with flow'rets strews the blast
When adverse winds arise,
Pleasure's garlands wither fast
Before inclement skies,
Knowledge often mocks pursuit,
Involved in mazy shade,
But Piety yields richer fruit
When earthly harvests fade.
VICE.
In vain the heart that goes astray
From Virtue's seraph-guarded way,—
May hope that feelings just and free,
Meek peace,—or firm integrity,—
Or innocence, with snowy vest
Will condescend to be its guest.—
—As soon within the viper's cell
Might pure and white-wing'd spirits dwell,—
As soon the flame of vivid gleam
Glow in the chill and turbid stream;—
For by strong links, a viewless chain
Connects our wanderings with our pain,
And Heaven ordains it thus, to show
That bands of vice, are bonds of wo.
