Classic Poem

While cold Indiff'rence boasts its calm career,
Nor feels one gen'rous pang or tender fear;
But foe to Virtue, Elegance, and Taste,
Shall reign triumphant o'er a desart waste—
Ah, deem not Genius, active and sublime,
Shall bear its blossoms in so cold a clime!
That piercing ray, that animating light,
Which glows refulgent thro' a world of night,
(Which wakes the Muse, in dark Oblivion's gloom,
And bids her varied wreath unfading bloom)
Thro' inmost Nature shall its influence dart,
And that which fires the Fancy warms the heart.
Full many an anxious wish and tender care,
Shall glow, congenial, with its ardour there.
Alas—tho' many a pang 'tis doom'd to own,
And tort'ring doubts, to meaner souls unknown,
A gen'rous pride shall still its pow'rs sustain,
And sooth its anguish, tho' it bleeds in vain!

For thee, oh gentle youth—whoe'er she be,
Whose potent charms inspire the muse and thee,
Accept the wish which M YRA now conveys,
Tho' cold retirement damps her feeble lays—
May kindling Hope thy anxious doubts remove,
And gentle Sympathy thy flame approve;
May artless Truth the conscious heart declare,
And Reason fix thy claim for ever there!