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Yes, here your gloomy reign
Ends, O long-cherish'd train
Of moody thoughts and soul-depressing cares;
A myrtle crown, and breathes
Soft rapturous sighs, fond vows, and tenderest
She, she, divinest maid,
Blooms, in such charms array'd
As opening roses on their sunny beds!
Despair; her look, her smile
On all around delicious influence sheds.
But not her smiles alone,
Her voice of melting tone,
Nor bloom, nor grace my willing heart control; For in her form enshrined
Resides the radiant mind
That crowns, illumes, and animates the whole.
By her beloved, new born
Am I to bliss; the morn
More sweet appears, more blue the' expanse above; More mild the passing gale,
More verdant seems the vale,
And all is gladness, harmony, and love.
Now, to my unfilm'd sight,
O sun! thy golden light,
From which I wont disgusted to retire,
Once more my breast can cheer,
And ardent hopes and thoughts sublime inspire.
Dian, more fair meseems
Thou art than when thy beams
Saw me retreat in solitude to pine;
And ye, aye burning stars,
That guide your emerald cars
Mid boundless space, with nobler lustre shine.
Now, joyous as I rové,
Each cool and whispering grove,
Not less to bliss than to 'pale passion' dear, Shall bid its feather'd throng
Awake a sprightlier song,
And pour delight upon my tranced ear.
Nor thou, my lyre, that oft,
In numbers sweetly soft,
Hast plain'd the story of thy master's woes,
Unstrung, and sunk in indolent repose.
Now, from thy vocal wires,
While love, while beauty fires,
And rosy-pinion'd pleasure hovers round,
My rapid hand shall call,
But bid thy boldest harmonies resound.
Yes, glowing be the song!
Such raptures well belong
To him who sings the bless'd Ianthe's praise:
And lo! more mildly bright
Than Hesper's beamy light
She comes, the queen, the glory of my lays.
She comes! ye zephyrs bland,
Ye blooming flowers, your balmy breath diffuse;
Sacred to love, to beauty, and the muse.
R. A. DAVENPORT.
THOUGH oft in hours of grief and pain,
Yet, once again thy aid imploring,
Think not I ask thee to befriend
Awhile this breast in anguish sighing: To me no succour thou canst lend;
My woes, such feeble force defying, A mightier power than thine must end.
But fly to Lesbia's couch, and there
Thy downy pinions lightly spreading,
But, all thy balmy influence shedding,
And O thy visions, heavenly bright!
The soul from earthly thoughts relieving,
Sweetly her charmed sense deceiving,
R. A. DAVENPORT.
LET the sons of Lucre pine For glittering heaps of golden ore, To swell the' accumulated store, Contemn the terrors of the mine; Explore the caverns dark and drear, Mantled around with deadly dew; Where congregated vapours blue, Fired by the taper glimmering near, Bid dire explosion the deep realms invade, And earth-born lightnings gleam athwart the' in fernal shade.
Pride, on thy vesture's purple fold,
Be Love my empire, Lesbia's heart my throne!
Where into rage the wintry blast
Or let his freight secure the surges sweep, And of their prey defraud the monsters of the deep:
My bark the tide of young desire, O Venus, to thy happy realm Shall waft, fair Hope direct the helm, Love's sighs the swelling sails inspire; To thee, bright offspring of the wave, I'll many an amorous vow prefer: From storms of hate thy mariner And blast of chill indifference save! So to thy power I'll frame the votive lay, And, moor'd in Lesbia's arms, confess thy sovereign sway.
Amid ensanguined fields of war, Valour, be thy votary found; Where crimson banners wave around, The martial clarion, echoing far; In vain gigantic Terror calls His spectre shapes, a ghastly band: Nor Discord, hurling high his brand, Nor Danger's horrid front appals ;' Nor Death his fierce unconquer'd soul can tame, Or from his grasp withhold the glorious meed of Fame.
But let me wander far away
From the loud drum and neighing steed, Through many a pansie-painted mead, Where Isis' bright-hair'd Naiads stray; High o'er my head a pendent bower Let the broad elm and branching pine With intermingling umbrage twine; There Love's impassion'd song I'll pour, And summon every wave that dances near, Bridling his wanton speed my Lesbia's praise to