Metrical essays :: :: University of Virginia Library

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar.”
Byron.

I

O! thou celestial maid who lovs't to dwell,
And list uopn some high impending rock
To the hoarse madden'd surge
Lashing with foam the shore!

II

What time the fragrant morn on beauty's wings
Spreads o'er the meads her summer gifted charms;
While all around appears
A paradise of sweets.

III

When, upborne to the sapphire of the east,
The lark on airy wings of fancy roves,
Soft, on the ambient air,
Her richest music pours;

IV

Beside yon dazzling stream's meand'ring course,
Where myriad flowers the velvet banks bedeck,
And to the heaven's high vault
Their grateful incense breathe;

V

His lot how blest with thee, sweet maid, to sit,
While thus from human turmoil far remov'd,
And with enraptured soul
To list thy spirit-voice:—

VI

Or when pavilion'd on aerial heights,
Eve, fair-eyed goddess, her grey mantle spreads;
Gives to the varied scene
Her peaceful, soft delights;

VII

When the young moon from her imperial throne,
In majesty of sweetness, beams sublime,
Luring the pleased eye
To gaze upon her charms.

VIII

With thee, instructive maiden, let me haste
To where yon grove its front fantastic rears;
Where echo warbles back
The night-bird's tender tale.

IX

There should I think of fairest dreams destroyed,
Visions of joy, of peace, for ever fled;
And hope's balm breathing smile
Chaced hence by lean despair.

X

As some pale wild flower lifts its pensile head,
Alone and friendless on the barren waste;
Till winter comes—and then
It with'ring droops and dies.

XI

O! teach me, in thy dear and holy hour,
Thy bosom's quiet happiness to gain;
Upon thy gentle breast
Hush thou my cares to peace.