POET AND TOLL-GATHEKER 353
Earth shall seem fair in every part,
The summer's green, the winter's white.
Then shall thy mind, grown pure at last,
Enjoy grave wisdom's greatest boon. And dark December's icy blast
Seem kind as these sweet airs of June.
Fearless on Fortune's sea thy soul
Shall breast the breeze adverse and cold,
Unmoved shall hear Fate's thunders roll, Disaster's lightning flash behold.
O'er self a king, 'mongst mortals blind The mightiest monarch shalt thou be ;
For Destiny, that rules mankind. Herself shall own a lord in thee.
��POET AND TOLL-GATHERER.
A CONVERSATION AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT PARNASSUS.
" Friend, ope thy gate and let me pass, And what's to pay for climbing here.-"'
" Not much, one as ; mind, not one ass, 3' For that I trow would cost thee dear ;
Were I so paid by each who passes,
I now were worth a million asses."
" Nay, nay ! lead forth that horse, I pray, Whose back all bards are wont to mount ;
It is my wish to reach this day The waters of that crystal fount,
Around whose brink the Muses nine
Are wont to sing their hymns divine."
�� �
