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Should Heaven's fair harbinger delight to pour
When first the Rhodian's mimic art arrayed
queen of Beauty in her Cyprian shade, The happy master mingled on his piece Each look that charmed him in the fair of Greece! Tó faultless Nature true, he stole a grace From every finer form and sweeter face! And, as he sojourned on the Ægean isles, Wooed all their love, and treasured all their smiles ! Then glowed the tints, pure, precious, and refined, And mortal charms seemed heavenly when combined Love on the picture smiled! Expression poured Her mingling spirit there—and Greece adored ! So thy fair hand, enamoured Fancy! gleans The treasured pictures of a thousand scenes ; Thy pencil traces on the Lover's thought Some cottage-home, from towns and toil remote, Where Love and Lore may claim alternate hours, With Peace embosomed in Idalian bow'rs ; Remote from busy life's bewildered way, O'er all his heart shall Taste and Beauty sway; Free on the sunny slope, or winding shore, With hermit steps to wander and adore;
There shall he love, when genial morn appears,
The moon is up—the watch-tower dimly burnsAnd down the vale his sober step returns ; But pauses oft as winding rocks convey The still sweet fall of Music far away! And oft he lingers from his home awhile To watch the dying notes !—and start, and smile!
Let Winter come! let polar spirits sweep The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep! Though boundless snows the withered heath deform, And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm! Yet shall the smile of social love repay, With mental light, the melancholy day! And, when its short and sullen noon is o'er, The ice-chained waters slumbering on the shore, How bright the faggots in his little hall Blaze on the hearth, and warm the pictured wall!
How blest he names, in Love's familiar tone, The kind fair friend, by nature marked his own!
And, in the waveless mirror of his mind,
Trim the gay taper in his rustic dome, And light the wint’ry paradise of home! And let the half-uncurtained window hail Some way-worn man benighted in the vale ! Now, while the moaning night-wind rages high, As sweep the shot-stars down the troubled sky, While fiery hosts in Heaven's wide circle play, And bathe in livid light the milky-way, Sase from the storm, the meteor, and the shower, Some' pleasing page shall charm the solemn hourWith pathos shall command, with wit beguile, A generous tear of anguish, or a smile'Thy woes, Arion ! and thy simple tale, (6) O’er all the heart shall triumph and prevail ! Charmed as they read the verse too sadly true, How gallant Albert, and his weary crew, Heaved all their guns, their foundering bark to save, And toiled-and shrieked—and perished on the wave!
Yes, at the dead of night, by Lonna's steep,
Ce: will they learn how generous worth sublimes The robber Moor, (c) and pleads for all his crimes ! How poor Amelia kissed with many a tear, His hand blood-stained, but ever ever dear!
Hung on the tortured bosom of her lord,
Turn from his dying words, that smite with steel The shuddering thoughts, or wind them on the wheel Turn to the gentler melodies that suit Thalia's harp, or Pan's Arcadian lute; Or, down the stream of Truth's historic page, From clime to clime descend, from age to age !
Yet there, perhaps, may darker scenes obtrude Than Fancy fashions in her wildest mood; There shall he pause, with horrent brow, to rate What millions died-that Cæsar might be great!.(d) Or learn the fate that bleeding thousands bore, (e) Marched by their Charles to Dneiper's swampy shore; Faint in his wounds, and shivering in the blast, The Swedish soldier sunk—and groaned his last ! File aster'file, the stormy showers benumb, Freeze every standard-sheet, and hush the drum! Horsemen and horse confessed the bitter pang, And arms and warriors fell with hollow clang ! Yet, ere he sunk in Nature's last repose, Ere life's warm torrent to the fountain froze, The dying man to Sweden turned his eye, Thought of his home, and closed it with a sigh! Imperial pride looked sullen on his plight, And Charles beheld—nor shuddered at the sight!.
Above, below, in Ocean, Earth, and Sky, Tby fairy worlds, Imagination, lie,
And Hope attends, companion of the way,
clock tolls mournful to the wind,)
Oh! vainly wise, the moral Muse hath sung
But yet, methinks, when Wisdom shall assuage