The vain, the vulgar cry,—­shall gladly meet,
And bid thee welcome to his still retreat;
Much will he wonder, how thou cam’st to find
A man to glory dead, to peace consign’d. 
O Fame! he’ll cry (for he will call thee Fame),
From thee I fly, from thee conceal my name;
But thou shalt say, though Genius takes his night,
He leaves behind a glorious train of light,
And hides in vain:  —­yet prudent he that flies
The flatterer’s art, and for himself is wise. 
   “Yes, happy child!  I mark th’approaching day,
When warring natures will confess thy sway;
When thou shalt Saturn’s golden reign restore,
And vice and folly shall be known no more. 
   “Pride shall not then in human-kind have place,
Changed by thy skill, to Dignity and Grace;
While Shame, who now betrays the inward sense
Of secret ill, shall be thy Diffidence;
Avarice shall thenceforth prudent Forecast be,
And bloody Vengeance, Magnanimity;
The lavish tongue shall honest truths impart,
The lavish hand shall show the generous heart,
And Indiscretion be, contempt of art;
Folly and Vice shall then, no longer known,
Be, this as Virtue, that as Wisdom, shown. 
   “Then shall the Robber, as the Hero, rise
To seize the good that churlish law denies;
Throughout the world shall rove the generous band,
And deal the gifts of Heaven from hand to hand. 
In thy blest days no tyrant shall be seen,
Thy gracious king shall rule contented men;
In thy blest days shall not a rebel be,
But patriots all and well-approved of thee. 
   “Such powers are thine, that man by thee shall wrest
The gainful secret from the cautious breast;
Nor then, with all his care, the good retain,
But yield to thee the secret and the gain. 
In vain shall much experience guard the heart
Against the charm of thy prevailing art;
Admitted once, so soothing is thy strain,
It comes the sweeter, when it comes again;
And when confess’d as thine, what mind so strong
Forbears the pleasure it indulged so long? 
   “Softener of every ill! of all our woes
The balmy solace! friend of fiercest foes! 
Begin thy reign, and like the morning rise! 
Bring joy, bring beauty, to our eager eyes;
Break on the drowsy world like opening day,
While grace and gladness join thy flow’ry way;
While every voice is praise, while every heart is gay. 
   “From thee all prospects shall new beauties take,
’Tis thine to seek them and ’tis thine to make;
On the cold fen I see thee turn thine eyes,
Its mists recede, its chilling vapour flies;
Th’enraptured Lord th’improving ground surveys,
And for his Eden asks the traveller’s praise,
Which yet, unview’d of thee, a bog had been,
Where spungy rushes hide the plashy green. 
   “I see thee breathing on the barren moor,
That seems to bloom although so bleak before;
There, if beneath the gorse the primrose spring,