“Airy dreams
Sat for the picture, and the Poet’s hand
Imparting substance to an empty shade,
Imposed a gay delirium for a truth.”
When life’s fair morn first open’d to my view,
With smiling confidence I gaz’d around ;
For Hope her mantle o’er my senses threw,
And ev’ry throbbing pulse would gaily bound.
How gladly did I hail the lucid glance,
And hear with strong belief the duping sigh !
How fondly trace each feeling’s soft expanse,
That seem’d to wear the guise of sympathy !
Unthinking Wight ! and could thy trusting heart
Believe that Man is always what he seems ?
Too late thou feel’st the keen and barbed dart
And trust’st no more the glare of fancy’s dreams.
At length Conviction’s clear and steady ray
Dispels the mists that clouded Reason’s eye,
At length a luminous, a mental day,
Dawn’s on thy easy, weak credulity.
Oh ! may it ever dawn ! may deep deceit
Ne’er hide its guilt in smiling friendship’s dress ;
Oh ! may it ne’er assume a form so sweet,
But stand confess’d in all its nakedness !
So shall my soul enjoy a long repose
And ev’ry throbbing nerve shall idly rest.
So shall I taste the calm from peace that flows,
Nor wear a Serpent in my simple breast.
(Laura Sophia Temple)
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