ODES.

ODE TO FOLLY.

Written on the 1st April, (All Fool's-day,) 1809.

I.

GODDESS, from thy airy throne,
Robed in Fashion's varying hues;
Bright as sun-beams ever shone ;

Mild as evening's softest dews;

FOLLY, lend thy witching lyre;

Let thy fleeting, changing fire

Light wild Fancy's vagrant glance;

Bid the Muse Minerva scorn;

Thine alone, this joyous morn!

Sce, from far, the teeming crowds advance!

Hail thy votaries mingling in the dance :

While they shout, and kneeling, kiss thy hand;

Fill their cup, and wave thy magic wand.

II.

Mark, who leads the motely train;
"Tis Ambition's frantic son ;

Stretching o'er thy wide domain,
Sceptres by oppression won :
Glittering round his care-clad brow,
Crowns in carnaged splendour glow;

Trembling nations shout around;

Vain, alas! thy potent spell,

See his restless bosom swell

Flattery's peal, in Freedom's song is drowned; The Conqueror hears, and sickens at the sound! Thus the Macedonian madman sighed,

Struggling in Ambition's boundless tide.

III.

FOLLY, hide thy blood-stained spear!
Hush the dinsome clang of arms!
Whining Love is lingering near;

Blind to all, but Beauty's charms.

Dreaming, doating, laughing, sighing,

Raptured-sad-despairing-dying

Oh, Belinda!-this for thee!"

She coquetting-love grows cool

FOLLY, thou hast lost thy fool!

Pride indignant, sets the victim free,

Slighted Love proclaims the stern decree :

Leaves Belinda subject to thy power,

Banished far from Hymen's hallowed bower.

IV.

Goddess, stay! thy cup prepare,

Nectar from thy richest spring;

Sensual bliss will banquet there,
Revelling in thy fairy ring.
Laid on yonder wanton's breast,
Glorying in the guilty feast,

Sunk in loose voluptuous joy ;

Lost to Virtue, dead to Shame,

Honour, Fortune, Rank, and Fame, Bartered for a base, ignoble joy;

Sold for bliss, a harlot can destroy.