Page:Poems - Sayers (1792).djvu/208
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SONNET.
Ah, wretched wight! whom Fame shall tempt to leave
The soft and silent valley of Repose,
And with her deeply-stirring voice deceive
To deeds of thankless toil, and weary woes;
Ah, wretched wight! who stays ne to perceive
The thorns that threat'ning gird the peerless rose,
But hopes unharm'd he may a wreath receive
Of deathless flowerets to bedeck his brows—
Look up!—afore the beamy towers of Fame
What fell and ghastly fiends for ever wait,
Envy, whose baleful vipers none can tame,
And Disappointment of slow sullen gait,
And with her eyes abash'd heart-damping Shame;
Fly, fly to fair Repose, nor scorn so sweet a mate.
The soft and silent valley of Repose,
And with her deeply-stirring voice deceive
To deeds of thankless toil, and weary woes;
Ah, wretched wight! who stays ne to perceive
The thorns that threat'ning gird the peerless rose,
But hopes unharm'd he may a wreath receive
Of deathless flowerets to bedeck his brows—
Look up!—afore the beamy towers of Fame
What fell and ghastly fiends for ever wait,
Envy, whose baleful vipers none can tame,
And Disappointment of slow sullen gait,
And with her eyes abash'd heart-damping Shame;
Fly, fly to fair Repose, nor scorn so sweet a mate.
THE END.