METRUM VII.
Curtain'd with clouds in a dark night, The stars cannot send forth their light. And if a sudden southern blast The sea in rolling waves doth cast, That angry element doth boil, And from the deep with stormy coil Spews up the sands, which in short space Scatter, and puddle his curl'd face. Then those calm waters, which but now Stood clear as heaven's unclouded brow, And like transparent glass did lie Open to ev'ry searcher's eye, Look foully stirr'd and--though desir'd-- Resist the sight, because bemir'd. So often from a high hill's brow Some pilgrim-spring is seen to flow, And in a straight line keep her course, 'Till from a rock with headlong force Some broken piece blocks up the way, And forceth all her streams astray. Then thou that with enlighten'd rays Wouldst see the truth, and in her ways Keep without error; neither fear The future, nor too much give ear To present joys; and give no scope To grief, nor much to flatt'ring hope. For when these rebels reign, the mind Is both a pris'ner, and stark blind.