Ode
on
a
Distant
Prospect
of
Eton
College
Ἄνθρωπος·
ἱκανὴ
πρόϕασις
εἰς
τὸ
δυστυχεῖν
.
Ye
distant
spires
,
ye
antique
towers
,
That
crown
the
watery
glade
,
Where
grateful
Science
still
adores
Her
Henry's
[
Henry's
.
]
King
Henry
the
Sixth
,
Founder
of
the
College
.
holy
Shade
;
And
ye
,
that
from
the
stately
brow
Of
Windsor's
heights
the
expanse
below
Of
grove
,
of
lawn
,
of
mead
survey
,
Whose
turf
,
whose
shade
,
whose
flowers
among
Wanders
the
hoary
Thames
along
His
silver-winding
way
.
Ah
happy
hills
,
ah
pleasing
shade
,
Ah
fields
beloved
in
vain
,
Where
once
my
careless
childhood
strayed
,
A
stranger
yet
to
pain
!
I
feel
the
gales
,
that
from
ye
blow
,
A
momentary
bliss
bestow
,
As
waving
fresh
their
gladsome
wing
,
My
weary
soul
they
seem
to
soothe
,
And
,
redolent
of
joy
and
youth
,
And
bees
their
honey
redolent
of
spring
.
Dryden's
Fable
on
the
Pythag.
System
.
[
l.
110
of
Dryden's
translation
of
Ovid
,
Metamorphoses
,
xv
]
To
breathe
a
second
spring
.
Say
,
Father
Thames
,
for
thou
hast
seen
Full
many
a
sprightly
race
Disporting
on
thy
margent
green
The
paths
of
pleasure
trace
,
Who
foremost
now
delight
to
cleave
With
pliant
arm
thy
glassy
wave
?
The
captive
linnet
which
enthrall
?
What
idle
progeny
succeed
To
chase
the
rolling
circle's
speed
,
Or
urge
the
flying
ball
?
While
some
on
earnest
business
bent
Their
murmuring
labours
ply
'Gainst
graver
hours
,
that
bring
constraint
To
sweeten
liberty
:
Some
bold
adventurers
disdain
The
limits
of
their
little
reign
,
And
unknown
regions
dare
descry
:
Still
as
they
run
they
look
behind
,
They
hear
a
voice
in
every
wind
,
And
snatch
a
fearful
joy
.
Gay
hope
is
theirs
by
fancy
fed
,
Less
pleasing
when
possessed
;
The
tear
forgot
as
soon
as
shed
,
The
sunshine
of
the
breast
:
Theirs
buxom
health
of
rosy
hue
,
Wild
wit
,
invention
ever-new
,
And
lively
cheer
of
vigour
born
;
The
thoughtless
day
,
the
easy
night
,
The
spirits
pure
,
the
slumbers
light
,
That
fly
the
approach
of
morn
.
Alas
,
regardless
of
their
doom
,
The
little
victims
play
!
No
sense
have
they
of
ills
to
come
,
Nor
care
beyond
today
:
Yet
see
how
all
around
'em
wait
The
ministers
of
human
fate
,
And
black
Misfortune's
baleful
train
!
Ah
,
show
them
where
in
ambush
stand
To
seize
their
prey
the
murtherous
band
!
Ah
,
tell
them
,
they
are
men
!
These
shall
the
fury
Passions
tear
,
The
vultures
of
the
mind
,
Disdainful
Anger
,
pallid
Fear
,
And
Shame
that
skulks
behind
;
Or
pining
Love
shall
waste
their
youth
,
Or
Jealousy
with
rankling
tooth
,
That
inly
gnaws
the
secret
heart
,
And
Envy
wan
,
and
faded
Care
,
Grim-visaged
comfortless
Despair
,
And
Sorrow's
piercing
dart
.
Ambition
this
shall
tempt
to
rise
,
Then
whirl
the
wretch
from
high
,
To
bitter
Scorn
a
sacrifice
,
And
grinning
Infamy
.
The
stings
of
Falsehood
those
shall
try
,
And
hard
Unkindness'
altered
eye
,
That
mocks
the
tear
it
forced
to
flow
;
And
keen
Remorse
with
blood
defiled
,
And
moody
Madness
laughing
wild
—
[
And
]
Madness
laughing
in
his
ireful
mood
.
Dryden's
Fable
of
Palamon
and
Arcite
.
[
ii
.
582
]
Amid
severest
woe
.
Lo
,
in
the
vale
of
years
beneath
A
grisly
troop
are
seen
,
The
painful
family
of
Death
,
More
hideous
than
their
Queen
:
This
racks
the
joints
,
this
fires
the
veins
,
That
every
labouring
sinew
strains
,
Those
in
the
deeper
vitals
rage
:
Lo
,
Poverty
,
to
fill
the
band
,
That
numbs
the
soul
with
icy
hand
,
And
slow-consuming
Age
.
To
each
his
sufferings
:
all
are
men
,
Condemned
alike
to
groan
;
The
tender
for
another's
pain
,
The
unfeeling
for
his
own
.
Yet
ah
!
why
should
they
know
their
fate
?
Since
sorrow
never
comes
too
late
,
And
happiness
too
swiftly
flies
.
Thought
would
destroy
their
paradise
.
No
more
;
where
ignorance
is
bliss
,
'Tis
folly
to
be
wise
.