HAPPINESS.

Upon death's purple altar now,

See where the victor victim bleeds:

All heads must come

To the cold tomb,

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust.

175

SHIRLEY.

HAPPINESS.

BECAUSE the few with signal virtue crown'd The heights and pinnacles of human mind, Sadder and wearier than the rest are found, Wish not thy soul less wise or less refined. True, that the small delights which every day Cheer and distract the pilgrim are not theirs; True that, though free from Passion's lawless sway,

A loftier being brings severer cares.

Yet have they special pleasures, even mirth, By those undreamt of who have only trod Life's valley smooth; and if the rolling earth To their nice ear have many a painful tone, They know Man does not live by Joy alone, But by the presence of the power of God.

A splendour amid glooms, a sunny thread Woven into a tapestry of cloud ,­