صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

Forth from her sacred eye-lids sent,
Like morn, fore-running radiance went,
While Honour, hand-maid late assign'd,
Upheld her lucid train behind.

Awe-struck, the much-admiring crowd
Before the virgin vision bow'd,
Gaz'd with an ever-new delight,
And caught fresla virtue at the sight;
For not of earth's unequal frame
They deem'd the heav'n-compounded Dame;
If matter, sure the most refin'd,
High wrought, and temper'd into mind,
Some darling daughter of the day,
And body'd by her native ray.

Where'er she passes thousands bend,
And thousands, where she moves, attend;
Her ways observant eyes confess,
Her steps pursuing praises bless;
While to the elevated maid
Oblations, as to heav'n, are paid.

'Twas on an ever-blithsome day,
The jovial birth of rosy May,
When genial warmth, no more suppress'd,
New melts the frost in every breast.
The cheek with secret Aushing dyes,
And looks kind things from chastest eyes;
The sun with healthier visage glows,
Aside his clouded kerchief throws,

The soul to passion yields her throne,
And sees with organs not her own;
While, like the slumb’rer in the night,
Pleas'd with the shadowy dream of light,
Before her alienated eyes,
The scenes of fairy-land arise;
The puppet world's amusing show,
Dipt in the gaily-colour'd bow,
Sceptres, and wreaths, and glittring things,
The toys of infants, and of kings,
That tempt along the baneful plain
The idly wise and lightly vain,
'Till verging on the gulphy shore,
Sudden they sink, and rise no more.

“But list to what thy fates declare;
Though thou art woman, frail as fair,
If once thy sliding foot shonld stray,
Once quit yon heav'n-appointed way,
For thee, lost maid, for thee alone,
Nor pray’rs shall plead, nor tears atone:
Reproach, scorn, infamy, and hate,
On thy returning steps shall wait,
Thy form be loath'd by ev'ry eye,
And ev'ry foot thy presence fly.”

Thus arm'd with words of potent sound,
Like guardian-angels plac'd around,
A charm by truth divinely cast,
Forward our young advent'rer pass’d.

Forth from her sacred eye-lids sent,
Like morn, fore-running radiance went,
While Honour, hand-maid late assign'd,
Upheld her lucid train behind.

Awe-struck, the much-admiring crowd
Before the virgin vision bow'd,
Gaz'd with an ever-new delight,
And caught fresh virtue at the sight;
For not of earth's unequal frame
They deem'd the heav'n-compounded Dame;
If matter, sure the most refind,
High wrought, and temper'd into mind,
Some darling daughter of the day,
And body'd by her native ray.

Where'er she passes thousands bend,
And thousands, where she moves, attend;
Her ways observant eyes confess,
Her steps pursuing praises bless ;
While to the elevated maid
Oblations, as to heav'n, are paid.

'Twas on an ever-blithsome day,
The jovial birth of rosy May,
When genial warmth, no more suppress’d,
New melts the frost in every breast.
The cheek with secret Aushing dyes,
And looks kind things from chastest eyes;
The sun with healthier visage glows,
Aside his clouded kerchief throws,

And dances up th' ethereal plain,
Where late he us’d to climb with pain,
While Nature, as from bonds set free,
Springs out, and gives a loose to glee.

And now for momentary rest,
The Nymph her travell'd step repressid,
Just turn’d to view the stage attain'd,
And glory'd in the height she gain’d.

Out-stretch'd before her wide survey,
The realms of sweet Perdition lay,
And pity touch'd her soul with woe,
To see a world so lost below;
When straight the breeze began to breathe
Airs, gently wasted from beneath,
That bore commission'd witchcraft thence,
And reach'd her sympathy of sense;
No sounds of discord, that disclose
A people sunk, and lost in woes.
But as of present good possess'd,
The very triumph of the bless’d.
The maid in wrapt attention hung,
While thus approaching Sirens sung:

“ Hither, fairest, bither haste,
Brightest beauty, come and taste
What the pow'rs of bliss unfold,
Joys, too mighty to be told;
Taste what ecstasies they give,
Dying raptures taste, and live,

« In thy lap, disdaining measure,
Nature empties all her treasure,
Soft desires, that sweetly languish,
Fierce delights, that rise to anguish;
Fairest, dost thou yet delay?
Brightest beauty, come away.

“List not when the froward chide,
Sons of pedantry and pride,
Snarlers, to whose feeble sense
April sunshine is offence;
Age and envy will advise,
E'en against the joy they prize.

“ Come, in Pleasure's balmy bowl
Slake the thirstings of thy soul,
'Till thy raptur'd pow'rs are fainting
With enjoyment, past the painting;
Fairest, dost thou yet delay?
Brightest beauty, come away."

So sung the Syrens, as of yore,
Upon the false Ausonian shore;
And, O! for that preventing chain, .
That bound Ulysses on the main,
That so our fair-one might withstand
The covert ruin now at hand.

The song her charm'd attention drew
When yow the tempters stood in view;
Curiosity, with prying eyes,
And hands of busy, bold emprise;

« السابقةمتابعة »