Page:The Triumphs of Temper.djvu/40

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THE TRIUMPHS


As chemic fires, that patient labour blows,
Draw the rich perfume from the Persian rose.
So mud thou form, by fiery toils refin'd,
The living essence of thy sweeter mind.
Dimly I see, on Destiny's dull glass,
Three dangerous trials 'tis thy doom to pass;
And, oh! if once forgetful of my power,
Good humour fail thee in the fateful hour,
Farewell those joys that wait the happy wife!
Farewell the vision of unclouded life!
Fain would my love thy secret perils show,
Which fate allows not even me to know:
In Spleen's dark court a thousand agents dwell,
Who bind their victim's in the wayward spell!
Perchance three prime supporters of her sway,
The busiest of her fiends may cross thy way:
Stern Contradiction, her ill-favour'd child,
Of fierce demeanor, and of spirit wild,
Bane of delight! and horror of the sex!
His plan to puzzle, and his pride to vex!—