Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/80

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Parent of all the smiling Charities,That strew the thorny path of Life with flowers!Glory to thee Preserver! to thy praiseThe awakened woodlands echo all the dayTheir living melody; and warbling forthTo thee her twilight song, the NightingaleHolds the lone Traveller from his way, or charmsThe listening Poet's ear. Where Love shall deignTo fix his seat, there blameless Pleasure shedsHer roseate dews; Content will sojourn there,And Happiness behold Affection's eyeGleam with the Mother's smile. Thrice happy heWho feels thy holy power! he shall not drag,Forlorn and friendless, along Life's long pathTo Age's drear abode; he shall not wasteThe bitter evening of his days unsooth'd;But Hope shall cheer his hours of Solitude,And Vice shall vainly strive to wound his breast,That bears that talisman; and when he meetsThe eloquent eye of Tenderness, and hears
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