PART II. CALLIOPE: or, The Chearful

Grim Superstition, hence away To native night, and leave the day, Nor let thy hellish brood appear, Begot on Ignorance and Fear. Come, gentle Mirth, and Gaiety, Sweet daughter of Society; Whilst fair CALLIOPE pursues Flights worthy of the chearful muse.

O Life, thou great essential good, Where ev'ry blessing's understood! Where Plenty, Freedom, Pleasure meet, To make each fleeting moment sweet, Where moral Loves and Innocence, The balm of sweet Content dispense, Where Peace expands her turtle wings, And Hope a constant requiem sings, With easy thought my breast inspire, To thee I tune the sprightly lyre. From Heav'n this emanation flows, To Heaven again the wand'rer goes, And whilst employ'd beneath on earth, It's boon attendants, Ease and Mirth, Join'd with the Social Virtues three, And their calm parent Charity, Conduct it to the sacred plains, Where Happiness terrestrial reigns. 'Tis Discontent alone destroys The harvest of your ripening joys, Resolve to be exempt from woe, Your resolution keeps you so. Whate'er is needful man receives, Nay more superfluous nature gives, Indulgent parent, source of bliss, Profuse of goodness to excess! For thee 'tis, man, the Zephyr blows, For thee the purple vintage flows, Each flow'r it's various hue displays, The lark exalts her vernal lays, To view yon azure vault is thine, And my EUDOCIA's form divine.

Hark! how the renovating Spring Invites the feather'd choir to sing, Spontaneous mirth and rapture glow On ev'ry shrub, and ev'ry bough, Their little airs a lesson give, They teach us mortals how to live, And well advise us whilst we can, To spend in joy the vital span. Ye gay and youthful all advance, Together knit in festive dance, See blooming HEBE leads the way, For youth is Nature's holiday. If dire misfortune should employ Her dart to wound the timely joy, Sollicit Bacchus with your pray'r, No earthly goblin dares come near, Care puts an easier aspect on, Pale Anger smooths her threat'ning frown, Mirth comes in Melancholy's stead, And Discontent conceals her head. The thoughts on vagrant pinions fly, And mount exulting to the sky, Thence with enraptur'd view look down, On golden empires all their own.

Or let, when Fancy spreads her sails, Love waft you on with easier gales, Where in the soul-bewitching groves, EUPHROSINE, sweet goddess, roves; 'Tis rapture all, 'tis extasy! An earthly immortality! This all the ancient Bards employ'd, 'Twas all the ancient Gods enjoy'd, Who often from the realms above, Came down on earth t' indulge in love.

Still there's one greater bliss in store, 'Tis virtuous Friendship's social hour, When goodness from the heart sincere, Pour's forth Compassion's balmy tear, For from those tears such transports flow, As none but friends, and angels know.

Blest state! where ev'ry thing conspires To fill the breast with heav'nly fires! Where for a while the soul must roam, To pre-conceive the state to come, And when thro' life the journey's past, Without repining or distaste, Again the spirit will repair, To breathe a more celestial air, And reap, where blessed beings glow, Completion of the joys below.