Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415290" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode On Lord Hay's BirthDay</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A Muse, unskill'd in venal praise,<br>Unstain'd with flattery's art;<br>Who loves simplicity of lays<br>Breathed ardent from the heart;<br>While gratitude and joy inspire,<br>Resumes the long-unpractised lyre,<br>To hail, O H*, thy Natal Morn:<br>No gaudy wreathe of flowers she weaves,<br>But twines with oak the laurel leaves,<br>Thy cradle to adorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For not on beds of gaudy flowers<br>Thine ancestors reclined,<br>Where Sloth dissolves, and Spleen devours<br>All energy of mind.<br>To hurl the dart, to ride the car,<br>To stem the deluges of war,<br>And snatch from fate a sinking land:<br>Tremble th' Invader's lofty crest,<br>And from his grasp the dagger wrest,<br>And desolating brand:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas this, that raised th' illustrious Line<br>To match the first in Fame!<br>A thousand years have seen it shine<br>With unabated flame.<br>Have seen thy mighty Sires appear<br>Foremost in Glory's high career,<br>The pride and pattern of the Brave.<br>Yet, pure from lust of blood their sire,<br>And from Ambition's wild desire,<br>They triumph'd but to save.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Muse with joy attends their way,<br>The vale of Peace along;<br>There to its Lord the village gay <br>Renews the grateful song.<br>Yon castle's glittering towers contain<br>No pit of wo, nor clanking chain,<br>Nor to the suppliant's wail resound:<br>The open doors the needy bless,<br>Th' unfriended hail their calm recess,<br>And gladness smiles around.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There, to the sympathetic heart,<br>Life's best delights belong,<br>To mitigate the mourner's smart,<br>To guard the weak from wrong.<br>Ye Sons of Luxury, be wise:<br>Know, happiness for ever flies<br>The cold and solitary breast;<br>Then let the social instinct glow<br>And learn to feel another's wo, <br>And in his joy be bless'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O yet, ere Pleasure plant her snare<br>For unsuspecting youth;<br>Ere Flattery her song prepare<br>To check the voice of Truth; <br>O may his country's guardian Power<br>Attend the slumbering Infant's bower,<br>And bright, inspiring dreams impart; <br>To rouse th' hereditary fire,<br>To kindle each sublime desire,<br>Exalt, and warm the heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Swift to reward a Parent's fears,<br>A Parent's hopes to crown,<br>Roll on in peace, ye blooming years,<br>That rear him to renown;<br>When in his finish'd form and face<br>Admiring multitudes shall trace<br>Each patrimonial charm combined,<br>The courteous yet majestic mien,<br>The liberal smile, the look serene,<br>The great and gentle mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet, though thou draw a nation's eyes,<br>And win a nation's love,<br>Let not thy towering mind despise<br>The village and the grove.<br>No slander there shall wound thy fame,<br>No ruffian take his deadly aim.<br>No rival weave the secret snare;<br>For Innocence with angel smile<br>Simplicity that knows no guile,<br>And Love and Peace are there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When winds the mountain oak assail,<br>And lay its glories waste,<br>Content may slumber in the vale,<br>Unconscious of the blast.<br>Through scenes of tumult while we roam,<br>The heart, alas! is ne'er at home,<br>It hopes in time to roam no more;<br>The mariner, not vainly brave,<br>Combats the storm, and rides the wave,<br>To rest at last on shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe,<br>How vain your mask of state!<br>The good alone have joy sincere,<br>The good alone are great:<br>Great, when, amid the vale of peace,<br>They bid the plaint of sorrow cease,<br>And hear the voice of artless praise;<br>As when along the trophied plain<br>Sublime they lead the victor train,<br>While shouting nations gaze.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Beattie">James Beattie</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415290" data-title="Ode On Lord Hay's BirthDay de James Beattie" data-description="A Muse, unskill'd in venal praise,
Unstain'd with flattery's art;
Who loves simplicity of lays
Breathed ardent from the heart;
While gratitude and joy inspire,
Resumes the long-unpractised lyre,
To hail, O H*, thy Natal Morn:
No gaudy wreathe of f..."></div>
</div>
</div>