University of Virginia Library

I stood amid the perfumed foliage
Of an Asian bower, tapestried by bloom;
The blushing vine had flung its fruitage o'er
The enamelled dome—and, woven 'mid the robes
Of Flora's iris drapery, had won
The homage of enamoured Zephyr's breath;
The gurgling rill o'er granite calmly flowed,
And laved, in soft meandering undulations,
The tufted bower of amaranthine bloom—
The pure rose distilled its fragrant odours,
And spread its snowy mantle o'er the wave;
The magnolia, with odoriferous breath,
Sprang into life exuberant, and 'mid
Its platted shrubbery lay the waking fawn;
And lilies, like the bright carbuncle, rise
And carpet o'er the velvet lawn, and woo
The aching heart to press their bridal couch;
And there, in gorgeous vestments, blossoms one,
Whose scarlet petals treasure crystal dew,
And ope its rosy bosom to the eye
Of nature's devotee, like the chaste nymph,
Who erst, in rich Hesperian gardens,
Bore the trophied palm of beauty, and drew
Olympian pæans; whose crimson leaves,
As variegated mosaic, blend
Their silken tapestry, and mellow glow,
With oriental pomp, magnificence,
And glory; and in pride unrivalled rear
On high the irradiate crest of splendour.
In the enchanted distance myrtle groves
Expand, and, when the gentle vigil breeze,
On rustling pinions, plays amid the green
And musical branches, and the dryads,
Sleepless, tune the soft woodland reed, or pipe,
To notes of holy, and celestial love,
And gladness unalloyed by mortal hate,
The tired wanderer of this dismal sphere
Might there repose, nor while away his hours
In heartless mirth, inglorious revel,
Nor inhuman schemes of malice, envy,
And insatiate vengeance; but, in mild love,
Attend the soothing voice of nature kind
To all her melancholy votaries;
And awake from blissful dreams to behold
The cincturing Eden, blooming in its pride,
And lulled into a visionary spell
Of rapture, hear the songs of Paradise
Float, in immortal strains, from the strung harps
Of nature's spotless ministers, who wing
Their earthward flight on noiseless pinions, gemmed
With the effulgent glory of their Lord.
Afar, the sighing willow copse, whose boughs
Pendent o'er the sheeny wave, that ripples
In silvery whiteness, tinged by the beams
Of solar splendour, tinkling in its chime
The unvaried dirge, and swelling higher notes,
That close in one full-voiced diapason,
Bathe their pale-green foilage in the flood
And drink the drastic fluid; shadows o'er
The laughing mead, and veils the sacred scene
Of sculptured urns, and storied mausoleums.

O! in this charming bower I would dwell
Undazzled by the pomp, and unallured
By the vain pageants of a faithless world;
And there, unknown to mirth, and guile, and grief,
Mingle my lyric minstrelsy of love
With the strains of the sad, lone, nightingale,
The muse of solitude, that float along
Cerulean skies, and flowery meads, and dales
Exulting in the radiance of light and life;
And call up visions, where the lonely mind,
Unused to brook the bitter jeer, the smile
Of envy, and the brutal shock of him,
Who outvies the fierce hyæna, and slakes
His frenzied fury with the brilliant charms,
That twine around the fibres of the heart,
And break, when each fond passion wanes and dies
In budding beauty, or celestial bloom,
Enjoys all nature in her mellowness,
And, nurtured by ambrosia shed from heaven,
And nectar, fraught with more than fabled force,
Or, rich Arcadian sweetness, attune
The warbling wires of enraptured gladness;
Unknowing pompous misery, and hate,
That decks itself in friendship, and assumes
The smile of soft complacency, indulge
In heavenly reveries of hope, and faith,
Till the unstained soul shall rise, and spring,
And mingle with angelic choirs on high.