 | Poetical sketches |  |
HYMN TO SCARBOROUGH SPA.
“O Fount of Health! O sparkling Spring!
“Thou, who the languid nerve can'st string,
“And bid upon the cheek of snow
“It's long-forgotten roses blow!
“To taste the pure pellucid wave,
“Fresh issuing from thy steeled cave,
“Comes one, who were it mine to heal,
“Nor care nor pain should ever feel.
“Thou, who the languid nerve can'st string,
“And bid upon the cheek of snow
“It's long-forgotten roses blow!
“To taste the pure pellucid wave,
“Fresh issuing from thy steeled cave,
“Comes one, who were it mine to heal,
“Nor care nor pain should ever feel.
“O to thy cool sequester'd haunt
“Receive thy loveliest visitant!
“Deserve at length thine ancient fame,
“Pour all thy vigour through her frame;
“Th' elastic step of youth restore,
“To climb the mountain as of yore;
“And as in brightness, so in force,
“Like Phœbus let her run her course.
“Receive thy loveliest visitant!
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“Pour all thy vigour through her frame;
“Th' elastic step of youth restore,
“To climb the mountain as of yore;
“And as in brightness, so in force,
“Like Phœbus let her run her course.
“Then shall thy praises Edmund sing,
“And o'er thy urn strew offering,
“Cull'd at the fragrant morning hour
“In Flora's fairest sweetest bow'r;
“That thus to him, through thee, 'tis given
“To hope on earth a lengthen'd heaven!”
“And o'er thy urn strew offering,
“Cull'd at the fragrant morning hour
“In Flora's fairest sweetest bow'r;
“That thus to him, through thee, 'tis given
“To hope on earth a lengthen'd heaven!”
| Poetical sketches | |