8
Shall these, by creeds they can't expound, Prepare a fancied bliss or woe?
Shall reptiles, groveling on the ground, Their great Creator's purpose know?
9
Shall those, who live for self alone, [i]
Whose years float on in daily crime-- Shall they, by Faith, for guilt atone, And live beyond the bounds of Time?
10
Father! no prophet's laws I seek,-- _Thy_ laws in Nature's works appear;-- I own myself corrupt and weak, Yet will I _pray_, for thou wilt hear!
11
Thou, who canst guide the wandering star, Through trackless realms of aether's space; Who calm'st the elemental war, Whose hand from pole to pole I trace:
12
Thou, who in wisdom plac'd me here, Who, when thou wilt, canst take me hence, Ah! whilst I tread this earthly sphere, Extend to me thy wide defence.
13
To Thee, my God, to thee I call!
Whatever weal or woe betide, By thy command I rise or fall, In thy protection I confide.
14.
If, when this dust to dust's restor'd, My soul shall float on airy wing, How shall thy glorious Name ador'd Inspire her feeble voice to sing!
15
But, if this fleeting spirit share With clay the Grave's eternal bed, While Life yet throbs I raise my prayer, Though doom'd no more to quit the dead.
16
To Thee I breathe my humble strain, Grateful for all thy mercies past, And hope, my God, to thee again [ii]
This erring life may fly at last.
December 29, 1806.
[Footnote 1: These stanzas were first published in Moore's 'Letters and Journals of Lord Byron', 1830, i. 106.]
[Footnote i:
Shalt these who live for self alone, Whose years fleet on in daily crime-- Shall these by Faith for guilt atone, Exist beyond the bounds of Time?
['MS. Newstead'.]]
[Footnote ii:
My hope, my God, in thee again This erring life will fly at last.
['MS. Newstead']]
TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON. [1]
[Greek: Eis rodon.]
ODE 5
Mingle with the genial bowl The Rose, the 'flow'ret' of the Soul, The Rose and Grape together quaff'd, How doubly sweet will be the draught!
With Roses crown our jovial brows, While every cheek with Laughter glows; While Smiles and Songs, with Wine incite, To wing our moments with Delight.
Rose by far the fairest birth, Which Spring and Nature cull from Earth-- Rose whose sweetest perfume given, Breathes our thoughts from Earth to Heaven.
Rose whom the Deities above, From Jove to Hebe, dearly love, When Cytherea's blooming Boy, Flies lightly through the dance of Joy, With him the Graces then combine, And rosy wreaths their locks entwine.
Then will I sing divinely crown'd, With dusky leaves my temples bound-- Lyaeus! in thy bowers of pleasure, I'll wake a wildly thrilling measure.
There will my gentle Girl and I, Along the mazes sportive fly, Will bend before thy potent throne-- Rose, Wine, and Beauty, all my own.
1805.
[Footnote 1: From an autograph MS. at Newstead, now for the first time printed,]