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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539322" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Judgement of Hercules</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">While blooming Spring descends from genial skies,<br>By whose mild influence instant wonders rise;<br>From whose soft breath Elysian beauties flow;<br>The sweets of Hagley, or the pride of Stowe;<br>Will Lyttleton the rural landscape range,<br>Leave noisy fame, and not regret the change?<br>Pleased will he tread the garden's early scenes,<br>And learn a moral from the rising greens?<br>There, warm'd alike by Sol's enlivening power,<br>The weed, aspiring, emulates the flower;<br>The drooping flower, its fairer charms display'd,<br>Invites, from grateful hands, their generous aid:<br>Soon, if none check'd the invasive foe's designs,<br>The lively lustre of these scenes declines!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis thus the spring of youth, the morn of life,<br>Rears in our minds the rival seeds of strife:<br>Then passion riots, reason then contends,<br>And on the conquest every bliss depends:<br>Life from the nice decision takes its hue,<br>And blest those judges who decide like you!<br>On worth like theirs shall every bliss attend,<br>The world their favourite, and the world their friend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are, who, blind to Thought's fatiguing ray,<br>As Fortune gives examples, urge their way;<br>Not Virtue's foes, though they her paths decline,<br>And scarce her friends, though with her friends they join;<br>In hers or Vice's casual road advance,<br>Thoughtless, the sinners or the saints of Chance!<br>Yet some more nobly scorn the vulgar voice,<br>With judgment fix, with zeal pursue their choice,<br>When ripen'd thought, when Reason, born to reign,<br>Checks the wild tumults of the youthful vein;<br>While passion's lawless tides, at their command,<br>Glide through more useful tracks, and bless the land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Happiest of these is he whose matchless mind,<br>By learning strengthen'd, and by taste refined,<br>In Virtue's cause essay'd its earliest powers,<br>Chose Virtue's paths, and strew'd her paths with flowers.<br>The first alarm'd, if Freedom waves her wings,<br>The fittest to adorn each art she brings;<br>Loved by that prince whom every virtue fires,<br>Praised by that bard whom every Muse inspires;<br>Blest in the tuneful art, the social flame;<br>In all that wins, in all that merits, fame!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas youth's perplexing stage his doubts inspired,<br>When great Alcides to a grove retired:<br>Through the lone windings of a devious glade,<br>Resign'd to thought, with lingering steps he stray'd;<br>Blest with a mind to taste sincerer joys,<br>Arm'd with a heart each false one to despise.<br>Dubious he stray'd, with wavering thoughts possest,<br>Alternate passions struggling shared his breast;<br>The various arts which human cares divide,<br>In deep attention all his mind employ'd;<br>Anxious, if Fame an equal bliss secured;<br>Or silent Ease with softer charms allured.<br>The sylvan choir, whose numbers sweetly flow'd,<br>The fount that murmur'd, and the flowers that blow'd;<br>The silver flood that in meanders led<br>His glittering streams along the enliven'd mead;<br>The soothing breeze, and all those beauties join'd,<br>Which, whilst they please, effeminate the mind;<br>In vain! while distant, on a summit raised,<br>The imperial towers of Fame attractive blazed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While thus he traced through Fancy's puzzling maze<br>The separate sweets of pleasure and of praise,<br>Sudden the wind a fragrant gale convey'd,<br>And a new lustre gain'd upon the shade:<br>At once, before his wondering eyes were seen<br>Two female forms, of more than mortal mien:<br>Various their charms, and in their dress and face,<br>Each seem'd to vie with some peculiar grace.<br>This, whose attire less clogg'd with art appear'd,<br>The simple sweets of innocence endear'd;<br>Her sprightly bloom, her quick sagacious eye,<br>Show'd native merit mix'd with modesty:<br>Her air diffused a mild, yet awful ray,<br>Severely sweet, and innocently gay;<br>Such the chaste image of the martial maid,<br>In artless folds of virgin white array'd;<br>She let no borrow'd rose her cheeks adorn,<br>Her blushing cheeks, that shamed the purple morn:<br>Her charms nor had nor wanted artful foils,<br>Or studied gestures, or well-practised smiles:<br>She scorn'd the toys which render beauty less;<br>She proved the engaging chastity of dress;<br>And while she chose in native charms to shine,<br>Even thus she seem'd, nay, more than seem'd divine.<br>One modest emerald clasp'd the robe she wore,<br>And in her hand the imperial sword she bore.<br>Sublime her height, majestic was her pace,<br>And match'd the awful honours of her face.<br>The shrubs, the flowers, that deck'd the verdant ground,<br>Seem'd, where she trod, with rising lustre crown'd.<br>Still her approach with stronger influence warm'd;<br>She pleased while distant, but when near she charm'd.<br>So strikes the gazer's eye the silver gleam<br>That, glittering, quivers o'er a distant stream;<br>But from its banks we see new beauties rise,<br>And, in its crystal bosom, trace the skies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With other charms the rival vision glow'd,<br>And from her dress her tinsel beauties flow'd.<br>A fluttering robe her pamper'd shape conceal'd,<br>And seem'd to shade the charms it best reveal'd:<br>Its form contrived her faulty size to grace,<br>Its hue, to give fresh lustre to her face.<br>Her plaited hair, disguised, with brilliants glared;<br>Her cheeks the ruby's neighbouring lustre shared;<br>The gaudy topaz lent its gay supplies,<br>And every gem that strikes less curious eyes;<br>Exposed her breast, with foreign sweets perfumed,<br>And round her brow a roseate garland bloom'd.<br>Soft smiling, blushing lips conceal'd her wiles;<br>Yet, ah! the blushes artful as the smiles.<br>Oft, gazing on her shade, the enraptured fair<br>Decreed the substance well deserved her care;<br>Her thoughts, to others' charms malignly blind,<br>Center'd in that, and were to that confined;<br>And if on others' eyes a glance were thrown,<br>'Twas but to watch the influence of her own:<br>Much like her guardian, fair Cythera's queen,<br>When for her warrior she refines her mien;<br>Or when, to bless her Delian favourite's arms,<br>The radiant fair invigorates her charms:<br>Much like her pupil, Egypt's sportive dame,<br>Her dress expressive, and her air the same,<br>When her gay bark o'er silver Cydnus roll'd,<br>And all the emblazon'd streamers waved in gold.<br>Such shone the vision, nor forbore to move<br>The fond contagious airs of lawless love;<br>Each wanton eye deluding glances fired,<br>And amorous dimples on each cheek conspired.<br>Lifeless her gait, and slow; with seeming pain<br>She dragg'd her loitering limbs along the plain,<br>Yet made some faint efforts, and first approach'd the swain.<br>So glaring draughts, with tawdry lustre bright,<br>Spring to the view, and rush upon the sight;<br>More slowly charms a Raphael's chaster air,<br>Waits the calm search, and pays the searcher's care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wrapp'd in a pleased suspense, the youth survey'd<br>The various charms of each attractive maid:<br>Alternate each he view'd, and each admired,<br>And found, alternate, varying flames inspired:<br>Quick o'er their forms his eyes with pleasure ran,<br>When she, who first approach'd him, first began:-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hither, dear boy, direct thy wandering eyes;<br>'Tis here the lovely Vale of Pleasure lies:<br>Debate no more, to me thy life resign;<br>Each sweet which Nature can diffuse is mine:<br>For me the nymph diversifies her power,<br>Springs in a tree, or blossoms in a flower;<br>To please my ear, she tunes the linnet's strains;<br>To please my eye, with lilies paints the plains;<br>To form my couch, in mossy beds she grows;<br>To gratify my smell, perfumes the rose;<br>Reveals the fair, the fertile scene you see,<br>And swells the vegetable world for me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Let the gull'd fool the toils of war pursue,<br>Where bleed the many to enrich the few<br>Where Chance from Courage claims the boasted prize;<br>Where, though she give, your country oft denies.<br>Industrious thou shalt Cupid's wars maintain,<br>And ever gently fight his soft campaign;<br>His darts alone shalt wield, his wounds endure,<br>Yet only suffer, to enjoy the cure.<br>Yield but to me-a choir of nymphs shall rise,<br>And fire thy breast, and bless thy ravish'd eyes:<br>Their beauteous cheeks a fairer rose shall wear,<br>A brighter lily on their necks appear;<br>Where fondly thou thy favour'd head shalt rest,<br>Soft as the down that swells the cygnet's nest;<br>While Philomel in each soft voice complains,<br>And gently lulls thee with mellifluous strains;<br>Whilst with each accent sweetest odours flow,<br>And spicy gums round every bosom glow.<br>Not the famed bird Arabian climes admire<br>Shall in such luxury of sweets expire.<br>At Sloth let War's victorious sons exclaim,<br>In vain! for Pleasure is my real name:<br>Nor envy thou the heads with bays o'ergrown;<br>No, seek thou roses to adorn thy own;<br>For well each opening scene that claims my care<br>Suits and deserves the beauteous crown I wear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Let others prune the vine; the genial bowl<br>Shall crown thy table, and enlarge thy soul.<br>Let vulgar hands explore the brilliant mine,<br>So the gay produce glitter still on thine.<br>Indulgent Bacchus loads his labouring tree,<br>And, guarding, gives its clustering sweets to me.<br>For my loved train, Apollo's piercing beam<br>Darts through the passive globe, and frames the gem.<br>See in my cause consenting gods employ'd,<br>Nor slight these gods, their blessings unenjoy'd.<br>For thee the poplar shall its amber drain;<br>For thee, in clouded beauty, spring the cane;<br>Some costly tribute every clime shall pay,<br>Some charming treasure every wind convey;<br>Each object round some pleasing scene shall yield,<br>Art built thy dome, while Nature decks thy field:<br>Of Corinth's Order shall the structure rise,<br>The spiring turrets glitter through the skies;<br>Thy costly robe shall glow with Tyrian rays,<br>Thy vase shall sparkle, and thy car shall blaze;<br>Yet thou, whatever pomp the sun display,<br>Shalt own the amorous night exceeds the day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When melting flutes and sweetly sounding lyres<br>Wake the gay Loves, and cite the young Desires;<br>Or in the Ionian dance some favourite maid<br>Improves the flame her sparkling eyes convey'd;<br>Think, canst thou quit a glowing Delia's arms<br>To feed on Virtue's visionary charms?<br>Or slight the joys which wit and youth engage<br>For the faint honour of a frozen sage?<br>To find dull envy even that hope deface,<br>And, where you toiled for glory, reap disgrace?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh! think that beauty waits on thy decree,<br>And thy loved loveliest charmer pleads with me;<br>She whose soft smile, or gentler glance, to move,<br>You vow'd the wild extremities of love;<br>In whose endearments years, like moments, flew;<br>For whose endearments millions seem'd too few;<br>She, she implores; she bids thee seize the prime,<br>And tread with her the flowery tracts of time,<br>Nor thus her lovely bloom of life bestow<br>On some cold lover, or insulting foe.<br>Think, if against that tongue thou canst rebel,<br>Where Love yet dwelt, and Reason seem'd to dwell,<br>What strong persuasion arms her softer sighs!<br>What full conviction sparkles in her eyes!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'See, Nature smiles, and birds salute the shade,<br>Where breathing jasmine screens the sleeping maid;<br>And such her charms, as to the vain may prove<br>Ambition seeks more humble joys than Love!<br>There busy toil shall ne'er invade thy reign,<br>Nor sciences perplex thy labouring brain;<br>Or none, but what with equal sweets invite,<br>Nor other arts, but to prolong delight.<br>Sometimes thy fancy prune her tender wing,<br>To praise a pendant, or to grace a ring;<br>To fix the dress that suits each varying mien;<br>To show where best the clustering gems are seen;<br>To sigh soft strains along the vocal grove,<br>And tell the charms, the sweet effects, of love!<br>Nor fear to find a coy disdainful Muse,<br>Nor think the Sisters will their aid refuse:<br>Cool grots, and tinkling rills, or silent shades,<br>Soft scenes of leisure, suit the harmonious maids;<br>And all the wise, and all the grave decree<br>Some of that sacred train allied to me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But if more specious ease thy wishes claim,<br>And thy breast glow with faint desire of fame,<br>Some softer science shall thy thoughts amuse,<br>And learning's name a solemn sound diffuse.<br>To thee all Nature's curious stores I'll bring,<br>Explain the beauties of an insect's wing;<br>The plant which Nature, less diffusely kind,<br>Has to few climes with partial care confined;<br>The shell she scatters with more careless air,<br>And in her frolics seems supremely fair;<br>The worth that dazzles in the tulip's stains,<br>Or lurks beneath a pebble's various veins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Sleep's downy god, averse to war's alarms,<br>Shall o'er thy head diffuse his softest charms,<br>Ere anxious thought thy dear repose assail,<br>Or care, my most destructive foe, prevail.<br>The watery nymphs shall tune the vocal vales,<br>And gentle zephyrs harmonize their gales;<br>For thy repose, inform, with rival joy,<br>Their streams to murmur, and their winds to sigh.<br>Thus shalt thou spend the sweetly-flowing day,<br>Till, lost in bliss, thou breathe thy soul away;<br>Till she the Elysian bowers of joy repair,<br>Nor find my charming scenes exceeded there.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She ceased; and on a lilied bank reclined,<br>Her flowing robe waved wanton with the wind;<br>One tender hand her drooping head sustains,<br>One points, expressive, to the flowery plains.<br>Soon the fond youth perceived her influence roll<br>Deep in his breast, to melt his manly soul;<br>As when Favonius joins the solar blaze,<br>And each fair fabric of the frost decays,<br>Soon, to his breast, the soft harangue convey'd<br>Resolves too partial to the specious maid.<br>He sigh'd, he gazed, so sweetly smiled the dame,<br>Yet sighing, gazing, seem'd to scorn his flame;<br>And oft as Virtue caught his wandering eye,<br>A crimson blush condemn'd the rising sigh.<br>'Twas such the lingering Trojan's shame betray'd<br>When Maia's son the frown of Jove display'd;<br>When wealth, fame, empire, could no balance prove<br>For the soft reign of Dido, and of love.<br>Thus ill with arduous glory love conspires,<br>Soft tender flames with bold impetuous fires!<br>Some hovering doubts his anxious bosom moved,<br>And Virtue, zealous fair! those doubts improved.-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Fly, fly, fond youth! the too indulgent maid,<br>Nor err, by such fantastic scenes betray'd.<br>Though in my path the rugged thorn be seen,<br>And the dry turf disclose a fainter green;<br>Though no gay rose or flowery product shine,<br>The barren surface still conceals the mine.<br>Each thorn that threatens, even the weed that grows<br>In Virtue's path, superior sweets bestows-<br>Yet should those boasted specious toys allure,<br>Whence could fond Sloth the flattering gifts procure?<br>The various wealth that tempts thy fond desire,<br>'Tis I alone, her greatest foe, acquire.<br>I from old Ocean rob the treasured store;<br>I through each region latent gems explore:<br>'Twas I the rugged brilliant first reveal'd,<br>By numerous strata deep in earth conceal'd;<br>'Tis I the surface yet refine, and show<br>The modest gem's intrinsic charms to glow;<br>Nor swells the grape, nor spires its feeble tree,<br>Without the firm supports of industry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But grant we Sloth the scene herself has drawn,<br>The mossy grotto, and the flowery lawn;<br>Let Philomela tune the harmonious gale,<br>And with each breeze eternal sweets exhale;<br>Let gay Pomona slight the plains around,<br>And choose, for fairest fruits, the favour'd ground;<br>To bless the fertile vale should Virtue cease,<br>Nor mossy grots, nor flowery lawns could please;<br>Nor gay Pomona's luscious gifts avail,<br>The sound harmonious, or the spicy gale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Seest thou yon rocks in dreadful pomp arise,<br>Whose rugged cliffs deform the encircling skies?<br>Those fields, whence PhÅ“bus all the moisture drains,<br>And, too profusely fond, disrobes the plains?<br>When I vouchsafe to tread the barren soil,<br>Those rocks seem lovely, and those deserts smile:<br>The form thou view'st to every scene with ease<br>Transfers its charms, and every scene can please.<br>When I have on those pathless wilds appear'd,<br>And the lone wanderer with my presence cheer'd,<br>Those cliffs the exile has with pleasure view'd,<br>And call'd that desert, blissful solitude!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Nor I alone to such extend my care,<br>Fair blooming Health surveys her altars there<br>Brown Exercise will lead thee where she reigns,<br>And with reflected lustre gild the plains:<br>With her in flower of youth and beauty's pride,<br>Her offspring, calm Content and Peace, reside;<br>One ready offering suits each neighbouring shrine,<br>And all obey their laws, who practise mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But Health averse, from Sloth's smooth region flies,<br>And, in her absence, Pleasure droops and dies;<br>Her bright companions, Mirth, Delight, Repose,<br>Smile where she smiles, and sicken when she goes:<br>A galaxy of powers! whose forms appear<br>For ever beauteous, and for ever near.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Nor will soft Sleep to Sloth's request incline,<br>He from her couches flies unbid to mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Vain is the sparkling bowl, the warbling strain,<br>The incentive song, the labour'd viand vain!<br>Where she, relentless, reigns without control,<br>And checks each gay excursion of the soul;<br>Unmoved though Beauty, deck'd in all its charms,<br>Grace the rich couch, and spread the softest arms;<br>Till joyless Indolence suggests desires,<br>Or drugs are sought to furnish languid fires;<br>Such languid fires as on the vitals prey,<br>Barren of bliss, but fertile of decay:<br>As artful heats, applied to thirsty lands,<br>Produce no flowers, and but debase the sands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But let fair Health her cheering smiles impart!<br>How sweet is Nature, how superfluous Art!<br>'Tis she the fountain's ready draught commends,<br>And smooths the flinty couch which Fortune lends;<br>And when my hero from his toils retires,<br>Fills his gay bosom with unusual fires;<br>And while no checks the unbounded joy reprove,<br>Aids and refines the genuine sweets of love.<br>His fairest prospect rising trophies frame;<br>His sweetest music is the voice of Fame:<br>Pleasures to Sloth unknown! she never found<br>How fair the prospect, or how sweet the sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'See Fame's gay structure from yon summit charms,<br>And fires the manly breast to arts or arms;<br>Nor dread the steep ascent, by which you rise<br>From grovelling vales to towers which reach the skies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Love, fame, esteem, 'tis labour must acquire,<br>The smiling offspring of a rigid fire!<br>To fix the friend, your service must be shown;<br>All, ere they loved your merit, loved their own;<br>That wondering Greece your portrait may admire,<br>That tuneful bards may string for you their lyre,<br>That books may praise, or coins record your name,-<br>Such, such rewards 'tis toil alone can claim!<br>And the same column which displays to view<br>The conqueror's name, displays the conquest too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Twas slow Experience, tedious mistress! taught<br>All that e'er nobly spoke or bravely fought:<br>'Twas she the patriot, she the bard, refined<br>In arts that serve, protect, or please mankind.<br>Not the vain visions of inactive schools,<br>Not Fancy's maxims, nor Opinion's rules,<br>E'er form'd the man whose generous warmth extends<br>To enrich his country, or to serve his friends.<br>On active worth the laurel War bestows;<br>Peace rears her olive for industrious brows;<br>Nor earth, uncultured, yields its kind supplies;<br>Nor heaven its showers, without a sacrifice.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'See, far below such grovelling scenes of shame,<br>As lull to rest Ignavia's slumbering dame;<br>Her friends, from all the toils of Fame secure,<br>Alas! inglorious, greater toils endure;<br>Doom'd all to mourn who in her cause engage;<br>A youth enervate, and a painful age;<br>A sickly sapless mass, if Reason flies,<br>And, if she linger, impotently wise!<br>A thoughtless train, who, pamper'd, sleek, and gay,<br>Invite old age, and revel youth away;<br>From life's fresh vigour move the load of care,<br>And idly place it where they least can bear;<br>When to the mind, diseased, for aid they fly,<br>What kind reflection shall the mind supply?<br>When with lost health, what should the loss allay?<br>Peace, peace is lost; a comfortless decay!<br>But to my friends, when youth, when pleasure, flies,<br>And earth's dim beauties fade before their eyes,<br>Through death's dark vista flowery tracts are seen,<br>Elysian plains, and groves for ever green.<br>If o'er their lives a refluent glance they cast,<br>Theirs is the present who can praise the past;<br>Life has its bliss for these, when past its bloom,<br>As wither'd roses yield a late perfume.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Serene, and safe from passion's stormy rage,<br>How calm they glide into the port of Age!<br>Of the rude voyage less deprived than eased;<br>More tired than pain'd, and weaken'd than diseased;<br>For health on age 'tis temperance must bestow,<br>And peace from piety alone can flow;<br>And all the incense bounteous Jove requires,<br>Has sweets for him who feeds the sacred fires.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Sloth views the towers of Fame with envious eyes,<br>Desirous still, still impotent to rise.<br>Oft, when resolved to gain those blissful towers,<br>The pensive queen the dire ascent explores,<br>Comes onward, wafted by the balmy trees,<br>Some sylvan music, or some scented breeze;<br>She turns her head, her own gay realm she spies,<br>And all the short-lived resolution dies.<br>Thus some fond insect's faltering pinions wave,<br>Clasp'd in its favourite sweets, a lasting slave;<br>And thus in vain these charming visions please<br>The wretch of glory, and the slave of ease,<br>Doom'd ever in ignoble state to pine,<br>Boast her own scenes, and languish after mine.<br>But shun her snares; nor let the world exclaim,<br>Thy birth, which was thy glory, proved thy shame.<br>With early hope thine infant actions fired,<br>Let manhood crown what infancy inspired;<br>Let generous toils with health reward thy days,<br>Prolong thy prime, and eternize thy praise.<br>The bold exploit that charms the attesting age,<br>To latest times shall generous hearts engage;<br>And with that myrtle shall thy shrine be crown'd,<br>With which, alive, thy graceful brows were bound,<br>Till Time shall bid thy virtues freely bloom,<br>And raise a temple where it found a tomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Then in their feasts thy name shall Grecians join,<br>Shall pour the sparkling juice to Jove's and thine:<br>Thine, used in war, shall raise their native fire;<br>Thine, used in peace, their mutual faith inspire.<br>Dulness, perhaps, through want of sight, may blame,<br>And Spleen, with odious industry, defame;<br>And that, the honours given, with wonder view,<br>And this, in secret sadness, own them due.<br>Contempt and Envy were by fate design'd<br>The rival tyrants which divide mankind;<br>Contempt, which none but who deserve can bear,<br>While Envy's wounds the smiles of Fame repair:<br>For know, the generous thine exploits shall fire,<br>Thine every friend it suits thee to require;<br>Loved by the gods, and, till their seats I show,<br>Loved by the good, their images below.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Cease, lovely maid! fair daughter of the Skies;<br>My guide! my queen!' the ecstatic youth replies:<br>'In thee I trace a form design'd for sway,<br>Which chiefs may court, and kings with pride obey;<br>And by thy bright immortal friends I swear,<br>Thy fair idea shall no toils impair.<br>Lead me, O lead me! where whole hosts of foes<br>Thy form depreciate, and thy friends oppose.<br>Welcome all toils the unequal Fates decree,<br>While toils endear thy faithful charge to thee.<br>Such be my cares to bind the oppressive hand,<br>And crush the fetters of an injured land;<br>To see the monster's noxious life resign'd,<br>And tyrants quell'd, the monsters of mankind!<br>Nature shall smile to view the vanquish'd brood,<br>And none, but Envy, riot unsubdued.<br>In cloister'd state let selfish sages dwell,<br>Proud that their heart is narrow as their cell!<br>And boast their mazy labyrinth of rules,<br>Far less the friends of Virtue, than the fools;<br>Yet such in vain thy favouring smiles pretend,<br>For he is thine, who proves his country's friend.<br>Thus when my life, well spent, the good enjoy,<br>And the mean envious labour to destroy;<br>When strongly lured by Fame's contiguous shrine,<br>I yet devote my choicer vows to thine;<br>If all my toils thy promised favour claim,<br>O lead thy favourite through the gates of Fame!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He ceased his vows, and, with disdainful air,<br>He turn'd to blast the late exulting fair:<br>But vanish'd, fled to some more friendly shore,<br>The conscious phantom's beauty pleased no more;<br>Convinced her spurious charms of dress and face,<br>Claim'd a quick conquest, or a sure disgrace.<br>Fantastic power! whose transient charms allured,<br>While Error's mist the reasoning mind obscured;<br>Not such the victress, Virtue's constant queen,<br>Endured the test of truth, and dared be seen;<br>Her brightening form and features seem'd to own,<br>'Twas all her wish, her interest to be known;<br>And when his longing view the fair declined,<br>Left a full image of her charms behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus reigns the moon, with furtive splendour crown'd,<br>While glooms oppress us, and thick shades surround;<br>But let the source of light its beams display,<br>Languid and faint the mimic flames decay,<br>And all the sickening splendour fades away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Shenstone">William Shenstone</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=539322" data-title="The Judgement of Hercules de William Shenstone" data-description="While blooming Spring descends from genial skies,
By whose mild influence instant wonders rise;
From whose soft breath Elysian beauties flow;
The sweets of Hagley, or the pride of Stowe;
Will Lyttleton the rural landscape range,
Leave noisy fame, ..."></div>
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