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TO A YOUNG LADY
Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade,
Silent and chaste she steals along,
Far from the world's gay busy throng :
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY
Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile-
Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks
She starts, she trembles, and she weeps!
A seraph in the realms of rest!
Sleep on secure! Above controul
Thy thoughts belong to Heaven and thee :
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
Bid us sigh on from day to day,
And wish and wish the soul away;
But busy, busy, still art thou
For once, O Fortune, hear my prayer,
Make but the dear Amanda mine.
The merchant, to secure his treasure,
My softest verse, my darling lyre
That I should sing, that I should play.
My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,
And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,
I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes.
Fair Cloe blush'd; Euphelia frown'd.
sung, and gazed; I play'd, and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around
Remark'd how ill we all dissembled.
Never seek to tell thy love,
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears :—
Soon after she was gone from me
A traveller came by,
He took her with a sigh.
When lovely woman stoops to folly
The only art her guilt to cover,
Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake,
And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.
The laughing flowers that round them blow
Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign;
Now rolling down the steep amain
Headlong, impetuous, see it pour :
The rocks and nodding groves re-bellow to the roar.
Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul,
Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares
On Thracia's hills the Lord of War
Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,
And frantic Passions hear thy soft controul.
And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command.
Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king
With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing:
The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.
Thee the voice, the dance, obey
Temper'd to thy warbled lay.
O'er Idalia's velvet-green
The rosy-crowned Loves are seen
With antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures,
Frisking light in frolic measures;
Now pursuing, now retreating,
Now in circling troops they meet :
To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare:
With arms sublime that float upon the air
In gliding state she wins her easy way:
O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.
Man's feeble race what ills await!
Labour, and Penury, the racks of pain,
Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,
And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate !
The fond complaint, my song, disprove,
And justify the laws of Jove.
Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse
Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry
Till down the eastern cliffs afar
Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war.
In climes beyond the solar road
Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, 55 The Muse has broke the twilight gloom
To cheer the shivering native's dull abode.
And oft, beneath the odorous shade
Of Chili's boundless forests laid,
She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat
In loose numbers wildly sweet
Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves.
Glory pursue, and generous Shame,
Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. 65
Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,
Or where Maeander's amber waves