Poems (Temple)/Glances back

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GLANCES BACK. 
 Now, while the voice of Folly sleeps,While Fancy's wings are gaily plying, And o'er the plains and shadowy steepsThe gales of Night are wildly sighing;
 While o'er the waters of the deepThe trembling eye of Night reposes, And dews of freshness love to steepThe bloomy leaves of infant roses;
 Now will I muse o'er life's dull page,And smile at ev'ry past delusion; Now gaze upon my youth's first stage,With wond'ring eyes and deep confusion.
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 How worthless seem the gaudy dreamsThat play'd around my fever'd slumbers! How dim the star of Hope, whose beamsWould flash athwart my joyous numbers!
 Yet no! not dim—its lucid raysStill triumph o'er the mists of sorrow; They leave these transitory daysAnd rest upon a distant Morrow.
 I view their vivid glorious lightThro all the wide Horizon streaming, Now, on my fix'd and raptur'd sightA gay futurity is gleaming.
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 Behold yon waves that frantic roll,Hark to the raving winds of ocean! 'Twas thus that o'er my subject soulThe passions rag'd in dread commotion.
 But now the fearful storm is hush'd,The gales of Spring once more are waking; Again my soul with joy is flush'd,The gloomy shades of thought forsaking.
 Shine o'er my path, thou beamy light,Sweet Hope! the wilds of Life adorning; O lead me from the mists of NightTo all the blaze and bloom of Morning.
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