Page:The works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld volume 1.djvu/146

62 No more by varying passions beat, O gently guide my pilgrim feet To find thy hermit cell; Where in some pure and equal sky, Beneath thy soft indulgent eye, The modest virtues dwell. Simplicity in Attic vest, And Innocence with candid breast, And clear undaunted eye; And Hope, who points to distant years, Fair opening through this vale of tears A vista to the sky. There Health, through whose calm bosom glide The temperate joys in even tide, That rarely ebb or flow; And Patience there, thy sister meek, Presents her mild unvarying cheek To meet the offered blow.