 | Poems |  |
[Come to the bower, that love has wove]
Come to the bower, that love has wove
Amid the foliage of the tufted grove,
Thou beauteous queen of my heart;
The world is a cheerless scene of strife,
With reckless wo and chicane rife,
And love alone can bliss impart.
Amid the foliage of the tufted grove,
Thou beauteous queen of my heart;
The world is a cheerless scene of strife,
With reckless wo and chicane rife,
And love alone can bliss impart.
O come, and grace the mossy bower,
Thou blushing, roseate spangled flower,
And reign the empress of my soul,—
The flashing light of thy diamond eye,
Thy hyacinthine locks that fly,
Seem the radiance of bliss by mortals stole.
Thou blushing, roseate spangled flower,
And reign the empress of my soul,—
The flashing light of thy diamond eye,
Thy hyacinthine locks that fly,
Seem the radiance of bliss by mortals stole.
The woodbine, rose, and jasmine entwine,
Like love and beauty in ardour divine,
And amorous ringdoves chant their song;
Come from thy height of pomp, my love,
And charm my heart in the tap'stried grove,
And thy train will dance the wild along.
Like love and beauty in ardour divine,
And amorous ringdoves chant their song;
Come from thy height of pomp, my love,
And charm my heart in the tap'stried grove,
And thy train will dance the wild along.
79
The lulling stream the arbour laves,
And bright skies hang our architraves,
And spirits press the banks of thyme;
Without thee, fragrance leaves my path,
And dies like the withered lattermath,
And harsh to the soul is the crystal chime.
And bright skies hang our architraves,
And spirits press the banks of thyme;
Without thee, fragrance leaves my path,
And dies like the withered lattermath,
And harsh to the soul is the crystal chime.
Thy coral lip breathes mellifluous love,
Thy marble cheek is tinged from above
With the carmine that lives in upper air;
O'er thy ivory neck, as a mantle of gold,
Thy auburn tresses, from their band unrolled,
Float, like sheen Iris exultingly fair.
Thy marble cheek is tinged from above
With the carmine that lives in upper air;
O'er thy ivory neck, as a mantle of gold,
Thy auburn tresses, from their band unrolled,
Float, like sheen Iris exultingly fair.
There on the emerald carpet, bright
With gems that sparkle to the queen of night,
The dove-like fays twirl round their nymph,
And they sing, as they spread their visual sail,
To the cool breeze, that echoes their fanciful tale,
And fans the lucent mirrored lymph.
With gems that sparkle to the queen of night,
The dove-like fays twirl round their nymph,
And they sing, as they spread their visual sail,
To the cool breeze, that echoes their fanciful tale,
And fans the lucent mirrored lymph.
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