And still the Few best loved and most revered Rise round the board their social smile endeared? * Selected shelves shall claim thy studious hours; There shall thy ranging mind be fed on flowers! There, while the shaded lamp's mild lustre streams, Read ancient books, or dream inspiring dreams; And, when a sage's bust arrests thee there, Pause, and his features with his thoughts compare. -Ah, most that Art my grateful rapture calls, Which breathes a soul into the silent walls; + Which gathers round the Wise of every Tongue, All on whose words departed nations hung; Still prompt to charm with many a converse sweet; Tho' my thatched bath no rich Mosaic knows, The strength and beauty which its waves impart. + Postea verò quàm Tyrannio mihi libros disposuit, mens addita videtur meis ædibus.-Cic. Here THETIS, bending, with a mother's fears Far from the joyless glare, the maddening strife, And all the dull impertinence of life, These eyelids open to the rising ray, And close, when Nature bids, at close of day. And (tho' perchance of current coin possest, * Ingenium, sibi quod vacnas desumsit Athenas, Libris et curis, statuâ taciturnius exit Like those blest Youths, forgive the fabling page, Blend thought with exercise, with knowledge health; Nor scorn, when graver triflings fail to please, No tuneful echoes, ambushed at my gate, When Christmas revels in a world of snow, To range the murmuring market-place, and view When Spring bursts forth in blossoms thro' the vale, And her wild music triumphs on the gale, Oft with my book I muse from stile to stile;+ Fallacem circum, vespertinumque pererro Sæpe forum.-HOR. + Tantôt, un livre en main, errant dans les préries. -BOILEAU. Nor boast, O Choisy, seat of soft delight, The secret charm of thy voluptuous night. Vain is the blaze of wealth, the pomp of power! Lo, here, attendant on the shadowy hour, Thy closet-supper, served by hands unseen, Sheds, like an evening-star, its ray serene, To hail our coming. Not a step profane Dares, with rude sound, the cheerful rite restrain; And, while the frugal banquet glows revealed, Pure and unbought*-the natives of my field; While blushing fruits thro' scattered leaves invite, Still clad in bloom, and veiled in azure light ;With wine, as rich in years as HORACE sings, With water, clear as his own fountain flings, The shifting side-board plays its humbler part, Beyond the triumphs of a Loriot's art. Thus, in this calm recess, so richly fraught With mental light, and luxury of thought, My life steals on; (O could it blend with thine!) Careless my course, yet not without design. So thro' the vales of Loire the bee-hives glide, The light raft dropping with the silent tide; |