 | Poems |  |
II—1.
Deep in a vale, remote from noise,Long bloom'd the lovely Stranger, fond to trace
The starry spheres, the world of soul, the grace
Of mystic truth; her joys,
And garment, simple: sages came;—
They mark her eye, her even soul,
The modest blush, the living flame,
From inward light, that o'er her visage stole.
—To them 'twas given to deck the lovely Dame,
In robes by Beauty wove, and lift her into fame.
II—2.
Saw you the sun dispensing light?Clouds soon have veil'd the glory bright.
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Beneath the misty frown of power,
Science lay hid;—then Goths and priests arose,
And scatter blasts and mildews wide around;
Till in the vale, where fruitful Arno flows,
Fair Science smil'd again, as on Parnassian ground.
II—3.
Now see her rise serenely great,Dispensing golden blessings from on high,
A sun, in more than royal state,
Supreme she rules, amidst a cloudless sky:
See Dulness close her eye of lead!
See Superstition's reptiles dead!
Sloth drag along her slimy way,
And Ignorance retire from day!
While Genius lifts his eye of fire,
Beholds the light, and strikes his lyre:
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Fields of perennial green, and fairer brighter skies.
| Poems | |