19. 20. 21. TO A YOUNG LADY Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid Silent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world's gay busy throng: CLXX. 5 10 W. Couper CLXXI. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile- Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks 5 She starts, she trembles, and she weeps! 10 Sleep on secure! Above controul Thy thoughts belong to Heaven and thee: For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove 15 S. Rogers CLXXII. 23. 5 That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise, 10 And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise, I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes. Fair Cloe blush'd; Euphelia frown'd. I sung, and gazed; I play'd, and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around 15 Remark'd how ill we all dissembled. M. Prior CLXXIV. LOVE'S SECRET Never seek to tell thy love, I told my love, I told my love, Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears :— Soon after she was gone from me Silently, invisibly : He took her with a sigh. W. Blake 5 10 24. When lovely woman stoops to folly The only art her guilt to cover, CLXXV. O. Goldsmith 5 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 Now the rich stream of music winds along 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, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, And frantic Passions hear thy soft controul. On Thracia's hills the Lord of War And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command. Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye. Thee the voice, the dance, obey Temper'd to thy warbled lay. The rosy-crowned Loves are seen 25 25 With antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures, Now in circling troops they meet: To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many-twinkling feet. 35 Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay: 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 40 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 ! 45 The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse Night, and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry 50 He gives to range the dreary sky : Till down the eastern cliffs afar In climes beyond the solar road Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war. Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, In loose numbers wildly sweet Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves. Her track, where'er the goddess roves, 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 70 |