Classic Poem

Fled are the moments of delusive Mirth,
The fancied pleasure! paradise divine!
Hush'd are the clamours that derive their birth
From gen'rous floods of soul-reviving wine.

Still night and silence now succeed the noise;
The ebbing tides of passion rage no more;
But all is peaceful as the ocean's voice
When breezeless waters kiss the silent shore.

Here stood the juice whose care-controuling pow'rs
Could ev'ry human misery subdue,
And wake to sportive joy the lazy hours,
That to the languid senses hateful grew.

Attracted by the magic of the bowl,
Around the swelling brim in full array,
The glasses circl'd, as the planets roll,
And hail with borrow'd light the god of day.

Here Music, the delight of moments gay,
Bade the unguarded tongues their motions cease,
And with a mirthful, a melodious lay,
Aw'd the fell voice of Discord into peace.

These are the joys that Virtue must approve,
While Reason shines with majesty divine,
Ere our ideas in disorder move,
And sad excess against the soul combine.

What evils have not frenzy'd mortals done
By wine, that ignis fatuus of the mind!
How many by its force to vice are won,
Since first ordain'd to tantalize mankind!

By Bacchus' pow'r, ye sons of riot! say,
How many watchful centinels have bled!
How many travellers have lost their way,
By lamps unguided thro' the ev'ning shade!

O spare those friendly twinklers of the night!
Let no rude cane their hallow'd orbs assail!
For cowardice alone condemns the light
That shews her countenance aghast and pale.

Now the short taper warns me to depart
Ere Darkness shall assume his dreary sway;
Ere Solitude fall heavy on my heart,
That lingers for the far approach of day.

Who would not vindicate the happy doom
To be for ever number'd with the dead,
Rather than bear the miserable gloom,
When all his comfort, all his friends are fled?

Bear me, ye gods! where I may calmly rest
From all the follies of the night secure;
The balmy blessings of Repose to taste,
Nor hear the tongue of Outrage at my door.