POETRY. 1065 
Didst thou not charm my step, with kindliest smile, 
New worlds of growing labour to explore ; 
Teach me on cyphers high to pile, 
Wake my young pride, and lure me to thy lore. 
My boyish mind in trance enraptur’d hold 
*Mid heroes—giants—all, that won’drous seem’d, 
The hermit sailor and the outlaw bold, 
While eastern genii thro’ my slumbers gleam’d. 
And rude I deem’d, and all unfit to please, 
Each thoughtless pastime of the youthful day ; 
To guide the skiff, and lean along the breeze, 
The gleaning covey’s whirring flight to stay ; 
With hound and horn to cheer the woodland’s side, 
And catch each bliss to bounding vigor known, 
Or skim with mimic fly the mountain tide, 
That silvery eddies round the hoary stone. 
E’en ’mid my school-mates on the sunny plain, 
Oft, when their earnest sports I seemed to share, 
How have I learn’d with meditating pain, 
The morrow’s task in secret to prepare- 
Did’st thou not touch with fire my graver mind, 
And nature’s mysteries promise to unfold ; 
And cheer me while I toil’d, to thee resign’d, 
Thro’ all thesage had taught, the scholar told ? 
Didst thou not whisper dreams of deathless fame, 
Of matchless bliss bestow’d by thee alone ; 
Of grateful ages aud the loud acclaim 
Of friends, who in my triumphs felt their own 7 
Oh ! with what rapture, as thy guidance led 
Thro’ thy fresh landscapes, did my steps pursue ; 
Bright flowers and prospects fair before me spread, 
And still I onward press’d, still ardent flew. 
Why, Wisdom, dimmer glows thy angel form, 
Less beauteous why thy flowers and landscapes all’; 
Less gay thy prospects, and thy skies less warm, 
And why these chilling glooms that round me fall ? 
Where 
