of beattie's minstrel.
45
For the proud honours of yon air-built pile,
And flattery, empty food of man below;
All Pride can ask, or glory can bestow!
Yet, hear me Muses from your sacred shrine!
Oh! bid these various flow'rs together grow,
Let gentleness with radiant genius twine,
Life's mild, unenvied sweets, and glory's wreath be mine!
And flattery, empty food of man below;
All Pride can ask, or glory can bestow!
Yet, hear me Muses from your sacred shrine!
Oh! bid these various flow'rs together grow,
Let gentleness with radiant genius twine,
Life's mild, unenvied sweets, and glory's wreath be mine!
