Classic Poem

To those who patient can attend
Instruction's voice — can learn and mend,
Curb Passion's course by Wisdom's rein —
To such we here devote the strain;
Prompt to improve and to invite,
We blend instruction with delight.
Nor wonder if to youth we sing,
And here our Second O FFERING bring;
For lessons learn'd in early days
May prove a source of lasting praise;
And seed thus sown in tender years,
Matur'd, a plenteous harvest bears,
Virtue the ground, for all beside
Is empty vaunt and fruitless pride:
The idle train can never find
True satisfaction for the mind.
Ev'n from the Child, in truant play,
Who from his school would steal a day,
To the fond Youth, by passion sway'd,
By Pleasure's flatt'ring arts betray'd,
None taste the joy that cheers the heart,
Which goodness only can impart,
Which sense of time well spent bestows,
And cheerful in the count'nance glows.
Blest are the few, who, early wise,
Learnall excesses to despise,
Who live beloving and belov'd,
By Virtue's choicest rules approv'd;
For them the flow'rs of spring shall bloom,
And gentle zephyrs breathe perfume,
The Heav'ns shall shed propitious rays,
And Happiness crown all their days.
Nor let the grave too simple deem
The moral strain, nor light esteem
What here we sing in homely verse,
Or in familiar prose rehearse;
For such in golden days of yore
In simple guise just morals bore:
This is our well-intended aim,
Nor could we wish a worthier fame,
Than childhood thus or youth to lead
Where Wisdom offers her best meed,
And with example's force engage,
And form to worth a rising age:
To virtue if these Tales persuade,
Our pleasing toil is well repaid.