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Updated: May 23, 2025
XIII. Thy breath inspires the Poet's song The Patriot's free, unbiass'd tongue, The Hero's gen'rous strife; Thine are retirement's silent joys, And all the sweet engaging ties Of still, domestic life. XIV. No more to fabled names confin'd; To Thee supreme, all perfect mind, My thought direct their flight. Wisdom's thy gift, and all her force From thee deriv'd, Eternal source Of Intellectual Light!
Diego, My heart is sad; 'twas I that caused this woe! DIEGO. Vex not thy anxious bosom; naught escaped Thy thoughtful care. ISABELLA. Oh! had I earlier shown The hidden treasure! DIEGO. Prudent were thy counsels, Wisely thou left'st her in retirement's shade; So, trust in heaven. ISABELLA. Alas! no joy is perfect Without this chance of ill my bliss were pure.
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