Sweet ----! where Pleasure's streamlet glides Fann'd by soft winds to curl in mimic tides; Where Mirth and Peace beguile the blameless Day; And where Friendship's fixt star beams a mellow'd Ray; 50 Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears; Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears; And Memory, with a Vestal's meek employ, Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of Joy! No more thy Sky Larks less'ning from my sight 55 Shall thrill th' attunéd Heartstring with delight; No more shall deck thy pensive Pleasures sweet With wreaths of sober hue my evening seat! Yet dear to [My] Fancy's Eye thy varied scene Of Wood, Hill, Dale and sparkling Brook between: 60 Yet sweet to [My] Fancy's Ear the warbled song, That soars on Morning's wing thy fields among!
Scenes of my Hope! the aching Eye ye leave, Like those rich Hues that paint the clouds of Eve! Tearful and saddening with the sadden'd Blaze 65 Mine Eye the gleam pursues with wistful Gaze-- Sees Shades on Shades with deeper tint impend, Till chill and damp the moonless Night descend!
O thou wild Fancy, check thy wing! No more Those thin white flakes, those purple clouds explore! Nor there with happy spirits speed thy flight Bath'd in rich amber-glowing floods of light; Nor in yon gleam, where slow descends the day, 5 With western peasants hail the morning ray! Ah! rather bid the perish'd pleasures move, A shadowy train, across the soul of Love! O'er Disappointment's wintry desert fling Each flower that wreath'd the dewy locks of Spring, 10 When blushing, like a bride, from Hope's trim bower She leapt, awaken'd by the pattering shower.
Now sheds the sinking Sun a deeper gleam, Aid, lovely Sorceress! aid thy Poet's dream! With faery wand O bid the Maid arise, 15 Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes; As erst when from the Muses' calm abode I came, with Learning's meed not unbestowed; When as she twin'd a laurel round my brow, And met my kiss, and half return'd my vow, 20 O'er all my frame shot rapid my thrill'd heart, And every nerve confess'd the electric dart.
O dear Deceit! I see the Maiden rise, Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes! When first the lark high-soaring swells his throat, 25 Mocks the tir'd eye, and scatters the loud note, I trace her footsteps on the accustom'd lawn, I mark her glancing mid the gleam of dawn. When the bent flower beneath the night-dew weeps And on the lake the silver lustre sleeps, 30 Amid the paly radiance soft and sad, She meets my lonely path in moon-beams clad. With her along the streamlet's brink I rove; With her I list the warblings of the grove; And seems in each low wind her voice to float 35 Lone-whispering Pity in each soothing note!