Classic Poem

E'er I presume, to try to night's fam'd part,
Kind to the modest , chear a doubtful heart:
No vain conceits too rash a speed create;
I bend, all conscious of a C ATO'S weight,
Calmly content , by measur'd steps, to rise ,
I view the distant goal , with patient eyes:
Fond of the stage , where life's strong passions glow ,
But shun the choaky weeds , that o'er it grow .
Unpush'd by pride , climb slow care's due degrees,
Humbly aspiring — and — but long — to please.

Well can my mem'ry — to my blush — restore
Whose steps I tread in — WHO was here — before .
Him have you SEEN — A C ATO , worth your praise!
Fill'd with Rome's fire, and form'd, to grace her Bays !
Ill, to supply such absent splendor , sent —
Receive me — in the light — His lustre lent.
Judge me not vain , while lengths, unwish'd , I run;
See, the faint shadow — and suppose — the S UN .

Such, I would be — such — if time's future day
Frowns not, on hopes too bold — perhaps — I may;
Try, with kind confidence, what praise can do:
Think it, but, possible — and make it — TRUE ;
Stoop, when I fall — support me; where I stand ;
Weakness grows strength — in Pity's guardian hand.

NOT at one step , far distant heights we climb:
Merit and favour — are the gifts — of Time .
Gradual in growth, and kindling at your flame,
So, might you teach my taste to meet your aim:
Rais'd by your smiles , to touch the point in view,
You make your C ATO — and he dies — for YOU .