Classic Poem

I.

A H ! why should this immortal mind,
Enslav'd by sense, be thus confin'd,
And never, never rise?
Why thus amus'd with empty toys,
And sooth'd with visionary joys,
Forget her native skies?

II.

The mind was form'd to mount sublime,
Beyond the narrow bounds of time,
To everlasting things;
But earthly vapours cloud her sight,
And hang with cold oppressive weight
Upon her drooping wings.

III.

The world employs its various snares,
Of hopes and pleasures, pains and cares,
And chain'd to earth I lie:
When shall my fetter'd powers be free,
And leave these seats of vanity,
And upward learn to fly.

IV.

Bright scenes of bliss, unclouded skies,
Invite my soul: O could I rise,
Nor leave a thought below;
I'd bid farewel to anxious care,
And say to every tempting snare,
Heaven calls, and I must go.

V.

Heaven calls! and can I yet delay?
Can ought on earth engage my stay?
Ah wretched, lingering heart!
Come, Lord, with strength, and life, and light,
Assist, and guide my upward flight,
And bid the world depart.

VI.

One word of thy resistless power,
Can bid my joyful spirit soar,
And scorn the feeble chain:
Come, bear my raptur'd thoughts above,
On pinions of seraphic love;
And earth shall tempt in vain.

VII.

In vain, her syren voice may try,
To lure me downward, from the sky,
To this dark vale of tears;
How will her transient glories fade,
And unregarded sink in shade,
When heaven's bright dawn appears?

VIII.

So, wandering meteors of the night,
Amuse the weary traveller's sight,
With fair deceitful ray;
But all their glimmering lustre flies,
And every gay delusion dies,
When Phaebus wakes the day.