122
THE TRIUMPHS
And Reason's trenchant blade of blazing steel,
Its edge and polish form'd by friendly zeal;
And, not less sure their destin'd mark to hit,
Pointed by Virtue's hand, the shafts of Wit;
And Ridicule's strong bolt, whose stunning blow
Lays towering Vice and fearless Folly low.
Here too the goddess kept, in mystic state,
Those sweet rewards that on her champions wait,
Guerdons more precious than triumphant palms:—
The glance of Gratitude for mental alms,
The kiss of Peace, and Reconcilement's tear,
And smiles of Sympathy, are treasur'd here.
These precincts past, now hand in hand they came
To the rich fabric of majestic frame;
Instinct with joy their sovereign to behold,
The gates of massive adamant unfold;
And, as the gently-moving valves unclose,
Mysterious music from their motion flows;
The airy notes thro' all the palace roam,
And dulcet echoes fill the festive dome:
Its edge and polish form'd by friendly zeal;
And, not less sure their destin'd mark to hit,
Pointed by Virtue's hand, the shafts of Wit;
And Ridicule's strong bolt, whose stunning blow
Lays towering Vice and fearless Folly low.
Here too the goddess kept, in mystic state,
Those sweet rewards that on her champions wait,
Guerdons more precious than triumphant palms:—
The glance of Gratitude for mental alms,
The kiss of Peace, and Reconcilement's tear,
And smiles of Sympathy, are treasur'd here.
These precincts past, now hand in hand they came
To the rich fabric of majestic frame;
Instinct with joy their sovereign to behold,
The gates of massive adamant unfold;
And, as the gently-moving valves unclose,
Mysterious music from their motion flows;
The airy notes thro' all the palace roam,
And dulcet echoes fill the festive dome:
