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Sustaining all yon orbs and all their sons;
Hail, mildly pleasing Solitude,
Oh! how I love with thee to walk,
A thousand shapes you wear with ease,
A shepherd next, you haunt the plain,
Thine is the balmy breath of morn,
Descending angels bless thy train, The virtues of the sage, and swain ; Plain Innocence in white array'd, Before thee lifts her fearless head; Religion's beams around thee shine, And cheer thy glooms with light divine:
About thee sports sweet Liberty;
Oh, let me pierce thy secret cell!
ON ÆOLUS'S HARP.
ÆTHERBAL' race, inhabitants of air,
Who hymn your God amid the secret grove; Ye unseen beings to my harp repair,
And raise majestic strains, or melt in love.
Those tender notes, how kindly they upbraid,
With what soft woe they thrill the lover's heart! Sure from the hand of some unhappy maid,
Who died for love, these sweet complainings part.
But hark! that strain was of a graver tone,
On the deep strings his hand some hermit throws; Or he, the sacred Bard *, who sat alone
In the drear waste, and wept his people's woes.
Such was the song which Zion's children sung,
When by Euphrates' stream they made their plaint; And to such sadly solemn notes are strung
Angelic harps, to soothe a dying saint.
Methinks I hear the full celestial choir,
Thro' heaven's high dome their awful anthem raise; Now chanting clear, and now they all conspire
To swell the lofty hymn from praise to praise.
Let me, ye wandering spirits of the wind,
Who, as wild fancy prompts you, touch the string, Smit with your theme, be in your chorus join'd,
For till you cease, my Muse forgets to sing.
Tell me, thou soul of her I love,
Ah! tell me, whither art thou fled; To what delightful world above, Appointed for the happy dead?
Or dost thou, free, at pleasure, roam,
And sometimes share thy lover's woe; Where, void of thee, his cheerless home
Can now, alas! no comfort know?
Oh! if thou hover’st round my walk,
While, under every well-known tree, I to thy fanci'd shadow talk,
And every tear is full of thee:
Should then the weary eye of grief,
Beside some sympathetic stream, In slumber find a short relief,
Oh visit thou my soothing dream!