Behold, in you unconscious grove, And now they part-to meet no more. Parent of virtue, if thine ear Attend not now to sorrow's cry; If now the pity streaming tear Should haply on thy cheek be dry, Indulge my votive strain, O sweet Humanity! Rural Simplicity, an Dde. THOU, whom Love and Fancy lead, Stranger, if thy lot has laid In toilsome scenes of busy life, Full sorely may'st thou see the strife, Of weary passions ill repaid, In a garden live like me, If thou lovest Simplicity. Flowers have sprung for many a year, And homeward walking, wept o'er me And soon, her cottage-window near, With care my slender stem she placed, And fondly thus her grief embraced, And cherish'd sad remembrance dear; For love sincere and friendship free, Are children of Simplicity. When past was many a painful day, One generons swain her heart approved, He died—and soon her lip was cold, Yet one boon have I to crave; Wilt thou do one tender deed, Ode to the River Eden. DELIGHTFUL Eden! parent stream, Yet shall the maids of Memory say, When, led by Fancy's fairy dream, My young steps traced thy winding way : How oft along thy mazy shore, Where slowly waved the willows hoar, In pensive thought their poet stray'd; Or, dozing near thy meadow'd side, Beheld thy dimply waters glide, Bright thro' the trembling shade. Yet shall they paint those scenes again, And bending o'er thy liquid plain, The azure worlds below survey'd; Led by the rosy-handed hours, When Time trip'd o'er that bank of flowers, And seem'd himself, a child. The poplar tall, that waving near Would whisper to thy mnrmurs free; Burnish their green locks in the sun; But Fancy, can thy mimick power, Again those happy moments bring? Canst thou restore that golden hour, When young Joy waved his laughing wing! When first in Eden's rosy vale, My full heart pour'd the lover's tale, The vow sincere, devoid of guile! O Goddess of the crystal brow, That dwells't the golden meads among; Whose streams still fair in memory flow, Whose murmurs melodize my song! |