A DRAMATIC ODE. Lo, all the darker Passions Shrink away, While Hope, escaping from th' unkind?ed crew, Looks'up, and, smiling, points to realms of day, And her pale cheek resumes' its orient hue. Joy waves in air his liberated wings, Love mourns in silent loneliness no more, And Poetry re-tunes her slacken'd strings, To sweeter strains than e'er she breath'd before. I know thee by thy m?jesty serene, Religion, brightest of the hsuv'nly threug; I know thee, Peace, by thy sweet dove-like mien, Daughter Of her, who leads thy steps along, Religior?. Ye tyrant'Passions, who convulse the soul, And all its jarring chords so rudely tear, Ye, for awhile, his bosom may conlrol, But I at lengt h shall reign triumphant there. Poor babe, who, thro' thy youth's tumultuous years, Shalt, by th? ruthless foes, be thus opprest, Come unto me, and ! will dry thy tears, C?me unto me, and I will give thee rest *. D ........... Google
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