Approach in silence. 'tis no vulgar tale <br />Which I, the Dryad of this hoary oak, <br />Pronounce to mortal ears. The second age <br />Now hasteneth to its period, since i rose <br />On this fair lawn. The groves of yonder vale <br />Are, all, my offspring: and each Nymph, who guards <br />The copses and the furrow'd fields beyond, <br />Obeys me. Many changes have i seen <br />In human things, and many awful deeds <br />Of justice, when the ruling hand of Jove <br />Against the tyrants of the land, against <br />The unhallow'd sons of luxury and guile, <br />Was arm'd for retribution. Thus at length <br />Expert in laws divine, i know the paths <br />Of wisdom, and erroneous folly's end <br />Have oft presag'd: and now well-pleas'd i wait <br />Each evening till a noble youth, who loves <br />My shade, awhile releas'd from public cares, <br />Yon peaceful gate shall enter, and sit down <br />Beneath my branches. Then his musing mind <br />I prompt, unseen; and place before his view <br />Sincerest forms of good; and move his heart <br />With the dread bounties of the sire supreme <br />Of gods and men, with freedom's generous deeds, <br />The lofty voice of glory and the faith <br />Of sacred friendship. Stranger, i have told <br />My function. If within thy bosom dwell <br />Aught which may challenge praise, thou wilt not leave <br />Unhonor'd my abode, nor shall i hear <br />A sparing benediction from thy tongue.<br /><br />Mark Akenside<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inscriptions-vii-the-wood-nymph/
