OF TEMPER.
97
And public spirit, then, will rather bear
The casual pain it gives by growing there,
Than, by a rash attempt to move it thence,
Hazard the safety of a precious sense,
And, by the efforts of a vain desire,
Rob this life-darting eye of all its fire.
Tho' the pure breast of Innocence may smart,
By cruel Calumny's corroding dart,
Yet would she rather ache in every nerve,
And bear those pangs she knows not to deserve,
Much rather than be made a senseless tool,
To aid the frenzy of tyrannic rule,
Or forge one dangerous bolt for Power to aim
At sacred Liberty's superior frame."———
As ancient chiefs were wont of old to gaze,
With eyes of tender awe, and fond amaze
On the fair priestess of the Delphic fane,
When first she utter'd her prophetic strain,
Entranc'd in wonder, thus Sir Gilbert view'd
His child, yet more inspir'd, who thus pursu'd:
The casual pain it gives by growing there,
Than, by a rash attempt to move it thence,
Hazard the safety of a precious sense,
And, by the efforts of a vain desire,
Rob this life-darting eye of all its fire.
Tho' the pure breast of Innocence may smart,
By cruel Calumny's corroding dart,
Yet would she rather ache in every nerve,
And bear those pangs she knows not to deserve,
Much rather than be made a senseless tool,
To aid the frenzy of tyrannic rule,
Or forge one dangerous bolt for Power to aim
At sacred Liberty's superior frame."———
As ancient chiefs were wont of old to gaze,
With eyes of tender awe, and fond amaze
On the fair priestess of the Delphic fane,
When first she utter'd her prophetic strain,
Entranc'd in wonder, thus Sir Gilbert view'd
His child, yet more inspir'd, who thus pursu'd:
