Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/93

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Man should thy pupil be. Draw near, thou of the lordly mind, Whose will the unmeasured universe in links of thought can bind; Yet still beneath a transient woe, ingloriously dost droop, Or shuddering at the frown of fate, on sky-borne pinion stoop:

What though Misfortune's shaft severe thy lingering hope destroys, Till only some pale frost-flower stands to mark thy smitten joys; What though Affliction's keenest dart thy inmost soul hath stoned, Still heavenward lift the lay of praise, like the lone Georgian bird.