« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
Ingrat'itude, ! more strong than traitor's arms, ,
Then burst his mighty heart,
• That is, Aourished the sword. — STEEVENS.
(R. K. TOWNSEND.) Sylph of the blue, and beaming eye! |
The Muses' fondest wreaths are thine The youthful heart beats warm, and high, !
Ani joys to own thy power divine, ! | Thou shinest o'er the flowery path
Of youth; I and all is pleasure there!! Thou soothest man, / whene'er he hath |
An eye of gloom' - | a brow of care. I To youth, thou art the early morn', /
With light, and melody, and song,” | To gild his path'; | each scene adorn', /
And swistly speed his time along. I To man, thou are the gift of Heav'n, |
A boon from regions bright above'; | His lot, how dark, I had ne'er been giv'n
To him the light of woman's love !! When o'er his dark’ning brow, I the storm
Is gath’ring in its power, and might', I The radiant beain of woman's form,
Shines through the cloud', and all is light' !! When dire disease prepares her wrath
To pour in terror from above', 1 How gleams upon his gloomy path', /
The glowing light of woman's love! When all around is clear, and bright',
And pleasure lends her fairest charm. ; And man, enraptur'd with delight',
Feels, as he views, his bosom warm, 1 Why glows his breast with joy profuse',
And all his deeds, his rap ture prove, ? | It is, because the scene he views'i
Through the bright rays of woman's love! O woman! | thine is still the power, 1
Denied to all but only thee,
To harass life's eventful sea. I
Beneath a wide, and boundless sky, Long shall thy praise his tongue , employ
Sylph of the blue, and beaming eye !!
ODE ON THE PASSIONS.
First, Fear, I his hand, its skill to try, 1
Amid the chords, bewilder'd, laid, i And back recoil'd, he knew not why!,!
E’en at the sound himself had made. Next, An ger rush'/'; his eyes on fire,
In lightnings own'd his secret stings. ; | In one rude clash, he struck the lyre', 1
And swept, with hurried hand, the strings. With wo ful measures, wan Despair, 1
Low sullen sounds his grief beguildil A solemn', strange', and min gld air:
’T was sad by fits; 1 by starts, 't was wild. I But thou, O Hope! with eyes so fair, 1
What was thy delighted measure?!
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail! |
And, from the rocks', the woods', the vale, She callid on echo still, through all the song : 1
And, where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soti, responsive voice was heard at every close ; ! And Hope, enchanted, sinild, and wav'd her golden hair. And longer had she sung; but, with a frown,
Revenge, impatient, rose :
And with a withering look,
The war denouncing trumpet took,
And ever, and anon, he beat
The doubling drum with furious heat : 1 And, though, sometimes, each dreary pause between,
Dejected Pity, at his side,
ller soul-subduing voice, applied ; 1 Yet still he kept his wild, unalter'd mien, While each strain'd ball of sight, seem'd bursting
from his head. Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought', were fix'd
Sad proof of thy distress ful state!!
And, from her wild, sequester'd seat,
In notes by distance made more sweet, I Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul;
And, dashing soft from rocks around,
Bubbling runnels join'd the sound ; Through glades, and glooms, the minglid measure stole, Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, I
Round a holy calm diffusing,
Love of peace, and lonely musing, I
Her bow across her shoulder flung,
Blew an inspiring air, 1 that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call', i to fawn and dryad known. I
The oak-crown'd sisters, and their chaste-ey'd queen.
He, with viny crown advancing,
But soon he saw the brisk, awakening violl Whose sweet, entrancing voice he lov'd the best. I
They would have thought, who heard the strain, They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids, ! Amidst the festal-sounding shades
To some unwearied minstrel dan cing, I While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love fram'd with Mirth, a gay, fantastic round : 1 Loose were her tresses seen, her zone, unbound; I
And he, amidst the frolic play, I
As if he would the charming air repay', 1 Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.