STANZAS
TO
CYNTHIO
.
AS
o'er
the
sands
the
youthful
Cynthio
strayed
,
Moist
from
the
wave
he
saw
a
pebble
shine
,
While
,
with
its
borrowed
lustre
charmed
,
he
said
"
Henceforth
this
sparkling
treasure
shall
be
mine
.
"
But
when
his
hand
had
dried
the
glistening
prize
,
Wond'ring
he
found
the
pebble
beamed
no
more
!
Then
,
having
viewed
it
with
disdainful
eyes
,
He
,
frowning
,
whirled
it
to
its
native
shore
.
Suppress
thy
fruitless
rage
!
and
on
thy
heart
Let
this
,
sweet
boy
,
a
moral
truth
impress
,
To
blunt
the
power
of
Disappointment's
dart
,
And
make
the
dangerous
sway
of
Fancy
less
.
As
o'er
the
pebble's
form
the
waves
had
shed
In
silver
dews
a
soft
attractive
power
,
So
Fancy's
hand
delights
in
youth
to
spread
Delusive
colours
on
the
future
hour
.
Moist
from
her
pencil
tempting
scenes
arise
;
On
common
life
,
romance's
tints
she
lays
;
Till
cold
Reality
her
hand
applies
,
And
at
the
touch
each
flattered
form
decays
.
Ingenuous
boy
,
warned
by
experience
,
now
The
pebble's
charms
shall
tempt
thine
eyes
no
more
;
Would
that
my
verse
,
my
Cynthio
,
could
bestow
A
shield
to
guard
thee
against
Fancy's
power
!