The sublime and the beautiful.
Two genii are there, from thy birth through
weary life to guide thee;
Ah, happy when, united both, they stand to aid
beside thee?
With gleesome play to cheer the path, the one
comes blithe with beauty,
And lighter, leaning on her arm, the destiny
and duty.
With jest and sweet discourse she goes unto
the rock sublime,
Where halts above the eternal sea the shuddering
child of time.
The other here, resolved and mute and solemn,
claspeth thee,
And bears thee in her giant arms across the
fearful sea.
Never admit the one alone!-Give not
the gentle guide
Thy honor-nor unto the stern thy
happiness confide!
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