The Harp of Erin :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now, when faint purpling o'er the western sky,
The lord of day his faded lustre weaves,
And through yon wild-wood's trembling leaves
Shoots his last solitary ray:
O! let me woo thee from thy sapphire shrine;
To my rapt eye thy snowy breast display.
The tranquil pause, the ecstacy divine,
The vision'd scene, serenely bright,
And all the witcheries of the Muse are thine!

The poet's fabling fancy told
How, erst in silent pomp descending,
O'er Latmos' brow thy radiant crescent bending,
Thou cam'st to bless a shepherd boy;
And pouring thy delicious charms,
Forsook thy shining sphere,
Immaculately clear,
To taste immortal love in mortal arms.

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But Slander tun'd the felon lyre,
Refin'd and chaste, thy vestal fire,
Averse to amorous pangs and ruder joy!
Queen of the pensive thought,
Forgive his fault;
Nor to another bard deny
The mildness of thy front, the fondness of thine eye!

Lo! from thy beamy quiver fall
Arrowy points, that pierce the ground,
And light the glow-worm's twinkling lamp;
O'er the pale lake's margin damp
The fiery phantoms dance around,
Till scar'd by frolic Echo's cavern'd call,
They burst their circle, shudd'ring flit away,
And meltingly in thy wan veil of humid light decay.

Oft let me, by the dimpled stream,
Kissing thy reflected gleam,
The solemn hour of midnight spend;
When no cares the bosom rend,
When sorrow's piteous tale is done,
And trouble sunk with the departed sun.

For strife is his, and mad'ning war,
And deaf'ning tumult, never mute:

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But on thy silent moving car
Wait Peace, and dew-ey'd Pity's tender train,
And Love, sweet warbling to the soothing flute,
Whose dying note
Is wont to float
Seraphic on the night-gale's airy wing,
Tempting the planet choir their heav'nly hymns to sing.

Hear me!—so may the bird of woe
Aye greet thee from her bowery cell below;
And ocean's rapid surges stand,
Check'd by thy silver hand—
For dear the tender twilight of thy sway,
The soothing silence, and the modest glow
That smooths thy brow,
When stream thy amber tresses on the air;
Twined with many a roseate ray,
Irregularly fair.

Dear, too, the shadowy lustre of thy face,
As mid yon silent band thy pomp proceeds:
Beneath thy influence, best
Fond transports balm the lover's breast,
When Thought intent, with musing pace,
On each delicious promise feeds,
And o'er the sombre waste a kindred gloom can trace;

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While lubbard Folly
Sunk in the dreamless grave of slumber dense,
Robb'd of each twinkling sense
That faintly clear'd the darkness of his mind,
Lies prone.

Lo! beckon'd by an airy band,
Yon sapphire-skirted cloud behind,
I spy the lovely vestal, Melancholy;
And, sweeter than the sweetest tone
Of music, melting on the tingling ear
Of sainted sprite, by choral seraph's hand,
Catch each celestial sigh, which sad and slow
Steals o'er my heart a charming woe.
Entranced above vain earthly joys I stand,
(Voluptuous sorrow, bliss sincere!)
Nor envy the proud wretch, who, madly gay,
Courts the licentious glare of grief-disclosing day!

What, though beneath thy startled sight
The hideous hag of night
Gores with deep lash her visionary mare;
Or, brooding on some beauteous breast,
Chills the cramp'd vein, and stops the liberal course
Of nature, wither'd by the powerful pest,
Who, grappling on the heart with tyger-force

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Her fleshless fangs, beholds with iron stare
Each struggling pant of weak despair,
And gluts with smother'd shrieks the demon ear:
Soon fades the baseless spell,
Soon drops th' ideal arm its harpy hold;
While, rising from the fray severe,
Its languid victim looks suspicious round,
Seeks the imaginary wound,
And smiles to feel her frame by fancy'd ills controll'd!

Thine the calm, the solemn hour,
When Genius from her bright ethereal bow'r
Stoops to touch the thought with fire,
To bid the science-pinion'd soul aspire;
And mid yon radiant worlds sublime,
Hold converse with her sons of ancient time:
The rapturous hour of secret love,
When mutual all the trembling passions move,
When none but Heav'n can hear the vows divine,
Are also thine:
The free embrace that tells the heart sincere,
The wish completed, and the love-fraught tear;
While coward Fear
Aloof his dubious dull attendants draws,
And honest Sympathy fulfils her sacred laws!

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Nor let the sun his gorgeous scenery prize,
Trick'd in each gaudy hue:
Lo! on thy lucid vault of spotless blue,
How quaintly bends the lunar bow,
And wreaths the front of Heav'n with vary'd dyes!
How, mingling, melts the humid glow
Of blended colours, in one matchless blaze,
Studding with golden rays
The splendid cope, where sheeted wide
Spreads thy pale glory's undulating tide!

Thee, too, the swelling Ocean meets with pride;
And, as he heaves his azure breast,
Courts from thy kindling glance the vivifying gleam
Which bids his sparkling surges shine,
In borrow'd beauties drest;
Till in the boundles mirror thou canst see
Thy answering image clear;
And the still lapsing waters hear,
Greeting with tribute floods thy sovereign shrine,
Thee ever praising, ever fed by thee!

O! parent of each nobler deed,
Thy midnight counsels, in his country's right
Bid the patriot dare to bleed;
Thy placid scenes of undisturb'd delight

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Awake th' ecstatic lyre;
Thy scenes where Peace and hermit Wisdom hoar
For holy intercourse retire,
To shun of wassail noise th' unmeaning roar;
And with meet awe adore
That Will Omnipotent, whose steady arm
Lanc'd'mid yon rolling spheres thy moulded ball,
And, providently pleas'd with all,
Breath'd o'er thy favourite face an inexpressive charm!