VII.

Now hath one moment darken’d future years, And changed the track of ages yet to be!-- Yet, mortal! midst the bitterness of tears, Kneel, and adore th’ inscrutable decree! Oh! while the clear perspective smiled in light, Wisdom should _then_ have temper’d hope’s excess; And, lost One! when we saw thy lot so bright, We might have trembled at its loveliness. Joy is no earthly flower--nor framed to bear, In its exotic bloom, life’s cold, ungenial air.