42
THE TRIUMPHS
Which with fond trust on flattering hope relies,
O'erleaps all perils that in prospect rise,
And springing to the goal anticipates the prize!
Such was Serena's fear-discarding state;
Her eye beheld not the dark frowns of fate:
She only saw, the combat all forgot,
The triumph promised as her glorious lot.
Now, eager to display her light attire,
The sprightly damsel seeks her sullen sire;
His gloomy brow with sportive air she kist;
Ah! how could Spleen that magic lip resist?
That voice, whose melting music might assuage
The scorpion Anger's self-tormenting rage?
For ne'er did Nature to a fire's embrace
Present a filial form of softer grace;
Or Fancy view a shape of lovelier kind
In the bright mirror of her Shakespeare's mind.
The sulky fiend, in spite of all her art,
Had now been banish'd from the father's heart,
But that, resolv'd her utmost force to try,
She summon'd to her aid her old ally,
O'erleaps all perils that in prospect rise,
And springing to the goal anticipates the prize!
Such was Serena's fear-discarding state;
Her eye beheld not the dark frowns of fate:
She only saw, the combat all forgot,
The triumph promised as her glorious lot.
Now, eager to display her light attire,
The sprightly damsel seeks her sullen sire;
His gloomy brow with sportive air she kist;
Ah! how could Spleen that magic lip resist?
That voice, whose melting music might assuage
The scorpion Anger's self-tormenting rage?
For ne'er did Nature to a fire's embrace
Present a filial form of softer grace;
Or Fancy view a shape of lovelier kind
In the bright mirror of her Shakespeare's mind.
The sulky fiend, in spite of all her art,
Had now been banish'd from the father's heart,
But that, resolv'd her utmost force to try,
She summon'd to her aid her old ally,
