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I see fair virtue nobly rise,
Child, fav'rite, darling, of the skies!
Smile on the pangs that round her wait,
And brave, and bear, the storms of fate!
I see her lift th' adoring eye,
Forbid the tear, suppress the sigh;
Still on her high career proceeding,
Sublime! august!—tho' suffering—bleeding!
The thorn, tho' sharp, the blast, tho' rude,
Shake not her lofty fortitude!
Oh! graceful dignity serene,
Faith, glory, triumph on thy mien!
Still, virtue! still the strife maintain,
The smile, the frown of fate, disdain!
Think on that hour, when freed from clay,
Thy soul shall rise to life and day;
Still mount to heav'n—on sorrow's car;
There shine a fix'd unclouded star,
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