Edwardsville Spectator

POETRY.

From the New England Palladium

ON DISCONTENT.

Ah! why is the mind so addicted to ponder
On life's gloomy scenes, and its pleasures forget?
And why is the fancy so oft prone to wander
O'er the hills of despair, and the vales of regret?

For each hour of our lives has with mercy been blended,
And joy's brilliant sun oft illumines our ways;
Though the pleasures we sigh for may long be suspended,
Yet why should the heart be to sorrow a prey?

'Tis infinite goodness presides o'er our being
And wisdom eternal our fortune directs;
Its ends are all known to the eye that's all seeing,
Whose power, unbounded, from danger protects.

Sure our hearts should be filled with a kinder emotion,
With gratitude pure for the blessings we share;
Discontent should be banished by fervent devotion,
And the voice of repining be silenc'd by prayer.

And what are these joys which our fancy has painted,
With rapture so glowing, in colors so bright
Are they not with the breath of immortality tainted?
And though in possession, will soon take their flight.

Though the blessings of friendship our sorrows may lighten,
And riches and honors our path-way adorn.
Yet so airy the chariot, those joys take their flight in,
They are far from our reach, ere we know they are gone.

If the pleasures of earth are so fragile and fleeting,
Why should we with ardor those phantoms pursue?
Though from our approach they are ever retreating.
Still hope's lucid visions our efforts renew.

Oh! when shall we learn that this state of probation,
Was never designed for the home of our joy.
That our souls should aspire to that high exaltation,
Of permanent happiness free from alloy!