To
Fortune
.
FROM
METASTASIO
.
UNSTABLE
Goddess
!
why
,
with
care
severe
,
Still
dost
thou
strew
with
thorns
my
rugged
path
?
Thinkst
thou
I
tremble
at
thy
frowns
?
or
e'er
Will
crouch
submissive
to
avert
thy
wrath
?
Preserve
thy
threats
for
thine
unhappy
slaves
,
The
shuddering
victims
of
thy
treacherous
power
;
My
soul
,
thou
knowest
,
amid
o'erwhelming
waves
,
Shall
smile
superior
in
the
roughest
hour
.
With
me
as
oft
as
thou
wouldest
proudly
wage
The
combat
urged
by
thy
malicious
ire
,
Full
well
thou
knowest
,
that
from
thy
baffled
rage
My
soul
has
seemed
fresh
vigour
to
acquire
;
So
the
bright
steel
beneath
the
hammer's
blows
More
polished
,
more
refined
,
and
keener
grows
.