 | Landscapes in verse |  |
Come then, ye Muses, sorrow-soothing Maids,
Ye who can pencil high the future joy!
Come, with Imagination's pregnant store
Of young ideas, tender-tinted flowers
Of fragrance heavenly sweet, and hue divine,
Come, with soft Consolation:—O, descend,
And bring along, companion ever-lov'd
Fancy—the brightest of th'ætherial host,
She, who in visionary robes of light,
Sky-woven, and of texture exquisite,
Finer than threaded sun-beams—know'st to dress
Anew, that parted bliss, which in the urn
Of yesterday was clos'd; she who revives
What Time has torn away; who can restore
The dead,—the buried—such is transport lost:—
Blessed enchantress! who by Mem'ry's aid
Canst bid the raptures of the past arise,
Unblemish'd from the tomb, in all their charms.
Ye who can pencil high the future joy!
Come, with Imagination's pregnant store
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Of fragrance heavenly sweet, and hue divine,
Come, with soft Consolation:—O, descend,
And bring along, companion ever-lov'd
Fancy—the brightest of th'ætherial host,
She, who in visionary robes of light,
Sky-woven, and of texture exquisite,
Finer than threaded sun-beams—know'st to dress
Anew, that parted bliss, which in the urn
Of yesterday was clos'd; she who revives
What Time has torn away; who can restore
The dead,—the buried—such is transport lost:—
Blessed enchantress! who by Mem'ry's aid
Canst bid the raptures of the past arise,
Unblemish'd from the tomb, in all their charms.
| Landscapes in verse | |