3 In vain are all Contentment's charms,
Her placid mien, her cheerful eye,
For look, Cordelia, how they fly!
Allured by Power, Applause, or Gain,
They fly her kind protecting arms;
Ah, blind to pleasure, and in love with pain!
4 Turn, and indulge a fairer view,
Smile on the joys which here conspire;
O joys harmonious as my lyre!
O prospect of enchanting things,
As ever slumbering poet knew,
When Love and Fancy wrapt him in their wings!
5 Here, no rude storm of Passion blows,
But Sports and Smiles, and Virtues play,
Cheer'd by Affection's purest ray;
The air still breathes Contentment's balm,
And the clear stream of Pleasure flows
For ever active, yet for ever calm.
SONG.
1 The shape alone let others prize,
The features of the fair;
I look for spirit in her eyes,
And meaning in her air;
2 A damask cheek, an ivory arm,
Shall ne'er my wishes win:
Give me an animated form,
That speaks a mind within;
3 A face where awful honour shines,
Where sense and sweetness move,
And angel innocence refines
The tenderness of love.
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