Birth-Day Ode 02
Small
is
the
new-born
plant
scarce
seen
Amid
the
soft
encircling
green,
Where
yonder
budding
acorn
rears,
Just
o'er
the
waving
grass,
its
tender
head:
Slow
pass
along
the
train
of
years,
And
on
the
growing
plant,
their
dews
and
showers
they
shed.
Anon
it
rears
aloft
its
giant
form,
And
spreads
its
broad-brown
arms
to
meet
the
storm.
Beneath
its
boughs
far
shadowing
o'er
the
plain,
From
summer
suns,
repair
the
grateful
village
train.
Nor
BEDFORD
will
my
friend
survey
The
book
of
Nature
with
unheeding
eye;
For
never
beams
the
rising
orb
of
day,
For
never
dimly
dies
the
refluent
ray,
But
as
the
moralizer
marks
the
sky,
He
broods
with
strange
delight
upon
futurity.
And
we
must
muse
my
friend!
maturer
years
Arise,
and
other
Hopes
and
other
Fears,
For
we
have
past
the
pleasant
plains
of
Youth.
Oh
pleasant
plains!
that
we
might
stray
For
ever
o'er
your
faery
ground—
For
ever
roam
your
vales
around,
Nor
onward
tempt
the
dangerous
way—
For
oh—what
numerous
foes
assail
The
Traveller,
from
that
chearful
vale!
With
toil
and
heaviness
opprest
Seek
not
the
flowery
bank
for
rest,
Tho'
there
the
bowering
woodbine
spread
Its
fragrant
shelter
o'er
thy
head,
Tho'
Zephyr
there
should
linger
long
To
hear
the
sky-lark's
wildly-warbled
song,
There
heedless
Youth
shalt
thou
awake
The
vengeance
of
the
coiling
snake!
Tho'
fairly
smiles
the
vernal
mead
To
tempt
thy
pilgrim
feet,
proceed
Hold
on
thy
steady
course
aright,
Else
shalt
thou
wandering
o'er
the
pathless
plain,
When
damp
and
dark
descends
the
night
Shivering
and
shelterless,
repent
in
vain.
And
yet—tho'
Dangers
lurk
on
every
side
Receive
not
WORLDLY
WISDOM
for
thy
guide!
Beneath
his
care
thou
wilt
not
know
The
throb
of
unavailing
woe,
No
tear
shall
tremble
in
thine
eye
Thy
breast
shall
struggle
with
no
sigh,
He
will
security
impart,
But
he
will
apathize
thy
heart!
Ah
no!
Fly
Fly
that
fatal
foe,
Virtue
shall
shrink
from
his
torpedo
grasp—
For
not
more
fatal
thro'
the
Wretches
veins
Benumb'd
in
Death's
cold
pains
Creeps
the
chill
poison
of
the
deadly
asp.
Serener
joys
my
friend
await
Maturer
manhood's
steady
state.
The
wild
brook
bursting
from
its
source
Meanders
on
its
early
course,
Delighting
there
with
winding
way
Amid
the
vernal
vale
to
stray,
Emerging
thence
more
widely
spread
It
foams
along
its
craggy
bed,
And
shatter'd
with
the
mighty
shock
Rushes
from
the
giddy
rock—
Hurl'd
headlong
o'er
the
dangerous
steep
On
runs
the
current
to
the
deep,
And
gathering
waters
as
it
goes
Serene
and
calm
the
river
flows,
Diffuses
plenty
o'er
the
smiling
coast,
Rolls
on
its
stately
waves
and
is
in
ocean
lost.
