It had not created a warmer emotion Than the present, fair nymphs, I was blest with from you; Than the shell, from the bright golden sands of the ocean, Which the emerald waves at your feet gladly threw. For, indeed, 'tis a sweet and peculiar pleasure, ON RECEIVING A COPY OF VERSES FROM THE SAME LADIES. H AST thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem Pure as the ice-drop that froze on the mountain ? Bright as the humming-bird's green diadem, When it flutters in sunbeams that shine through a fountain ? Hast thou a goblet for dark sparkling wine? Hast thou a steed with a mane richly flowing? And wear'st thou the shield of the famed Britomartis ? What is it that hangs from thy shoulder so brave, Embroider'd with many a spring-peering flower? Is it a scarf that thy fair lady gave? And hastest thou now to that fair lady's bower? Ah! courteous Sir Knight, with large joy thou art crown'd; Full many the glories that brighten thy youth! I will tell thee my blisses, which richly abound In magical powers to bless and to soothe. On this scroll thou seest written in characters fair A sun-beaming tale of a wreath, and a chain : And, warrior, it nurtures the property rare Of charming my mind from the trammels of pain. This canopy mark: 'tis the work of a fay; And cruelly left him to sorrow and anguish. There, oft would he bring from his soft-sighing lute Wild strains to which, spell-bound, the nightingales listen'd! The wondering spirits of Heaven were mute, And tears 'mong the dewdrops of morning oft glisten'd. In this little dome, all those melodies strange, So when I am in a voluptuous vein, I pillow my head on the sweets of the rose, And list to the tale of the wreath, and the chain, Till its echoes depart; then I sink to repose. Adieu! valiant Eric! with joy thou art crown'd, Full many the glories that brighten thy youth, I too have my blisses, which richly abound H ΤΟ ADST thou lived in days of old, And thy humid eyes, that dance Peeps the richness of a pearl. Downward too flows many a tress With a glossy waviness, Full, and round like globes that rise From the censer to the skies Through sunny hair. Add too, the sweetness Of thy honied voice; the neatness Of thine ankle lightly turn'd: With those beauties scarce discern'd, Kept with such sweet privacy, Thou dipp'st them in the taintless wave; Like twin water-lilies, born In the coolness of the morn. O, if thou hadst breathed then, Couldst thou wish for lineage higher At least for ever, evermore Tell me what thou wouldst have been? Of thy broider'd-floating vest Has placed a golden cuirass there, Like sunbeams in a cloudlet nested, O'er his loins, his trappings glow Silencer of dragon's yell. Alas! thou this wilt never do : And wilt surely never spill Blood of those whose eyes can kill. W TO HOPE. HEN by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night, Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray, Should sad Despondency my musings fright, And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away, Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof, And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof. Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him, as the morning frightens night! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Should e'er unhappy love my bosom pain, To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air! |