Classic Poem

How changeable is Man! Where now my joys?
My wonted ecstacies? Presumptuous hopes,
Still on the wing to imaginary bliss,
Horizon-like still flying as pursued?
Where now my admiration of this world,
Fond as the infant's gaze on spiring flames,
And with it fled? Few now are my desires:
Nor longer feverish; but, if granted, please,
Yet, if denied, they ne'er my peace disturb.
Since doubtful are all mortal good and ill;
Known only by th' event ourselves ordain,
As Wisdom guides the soul, or Folly drives.
No mildew-fears my enjoyment ever blast,
Nor shall affliction gratitude eraze,
Or cut the nerves of enterprising hope:
And if past remedy my faith pervades
These earthly mists to that All-ruling Love,
Which like the Sun still blesses tho' unseen.
With heart-strings brac'd I now can view serene;
And humbly smile at F ORTUNE'S mighty threats,
Sweet pity shed, and, whom I can, relieve:
Waiting secure the dawn of heavenly light,
That soon this midnight-darkness shall dispell,
And faith reward with vision more enlarg'd
Of Nature's works. How faultless! How compleat!
As their Creator God supreamly fair!
Eternal! Infinite! Yet all are one!
Pure now my pleasures: heart humane and blest:
My hopes immortal. Thanks, Adversity!
Heaven's gentle Angel! tho' of visage stern.
Whose power all mortals feel, yet few they grace.