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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=478640" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Recollection</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine,<br>Your vent'rous Afric in her great design.<br>Mneme, immortal pow'r, I trace thy spring:<br>Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing:<br>The acts of long departed years, by thee<br>Recover'd, in due order rang'd we see:<br>Thy pow'r the long-forgotten calls from night,<br>That sweetly plays before the fancy's sight.<br>Mneme in our nocturnal visions pours<br>The ample treasure of her secret stores;<br>Swift from above the wings her silent flight<br>Through Phoebe's realms, fair regent of the night;<br>And, in her pomp of images display'd,<br>To the high-raptur'd poet gives her aid,<br>Through the unbounded regions of the mind,<br>Diffusing light celestial and refin'd.<br>The heav'nly phantom paints the actions done<br>By ev'ry tribe beneath the rolling sun.<br> Mneme, enthron'd within the human breast,<br>Has vice condemn'd, and ev'ry virtue blest.<br>How sweet the sound when we her plaudit hear?<br>Sweeter than music to the ravish'd ear,<br>Sweeter than Maro's entertaining strains<br>Resounding through the groves, and hills, and plains.<br>But how is Mneme dreaded by the race,<br>Who scorn her warnings and despise her grace?<br>By her unveil'd each horrid crime appears,<br>Her awful hand a cup of wormwood bears.<br>Days, years mispent, O what a hell of woe!<br>Hers the worst tortures that our souls can know.<br> Now eighteen years their destin'd course have run,<br>In fast succession round the central sun.<br>How did the follies of that period pass<br>Unnotic'd, but behold them writ in brass!<br>In Recollection see them fresh return,<br>And sure 'tis mine to be asham'd, and mourn.<br> O Virtue, smiling in immortal green,<br>Do thou exert thy pow'r, and change the scene;<br>Be thine employ to guide my future days,<br>And mine to pay the tribute of my praise.<br> Of Recollection such the pow'r enthron'd<br>In ev'ry breast, and thus her pow'r is own'd.<br>The wretch, who dar'd the vengeance of the skies,<br>At last awakes in horror and surprise,<br>By her alarm'd, he sees impending fate,<br>He howls in anguish, and repents too late.<br>But O! what peace, what joys are hers t' impart<br>To ev'ry holy, ev'ry upright heart!<br>Thrice blest the man, who, in her sacred shrine,<br>Feels himself shelter'd from the wrath divine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Phillis+Wheatley">Phillis Wheatley</a><div class=q>
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<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=478640" data-title="On Recollection de Phillis Wheatley" data-description="MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine,
Your vent'rous Afric in her great design.
Mneme, immortal pow'r, I trace thy spring:
Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing:
The acts of long departed years, by thee
Recover'd, in due order rang'd we see:..."></div>
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