Marcian Colonna :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oh! full of languishment, too deep to last,
The bridal hours in happy beauty passed,
(The feather footed hours!)—and hoary Time
Smoothed his pale brow, and with a look sublime,
From out the stream of joy a measure quaffed,
And young Love shook his rosy wings and laughed.
Dance and Arcadian tale and sylvan song,
Which to those moments did of right belong,
Went round and then returned: the morning Sun
Met brighter eyes than e'er he glanced upon,
And evening saw them still the same, and night
Looked from her star-lit throne, on stars more bright.
The morn was given to tale, the noon to ease
And musing beneath shade of branching trees;
The night to slumber; but at evening gray,
When the too fiery Sun had passed away,
Music was heard beneath the smiling moon,
Till midnight came, (it ever came too soon,)
And songs which lovers once were wont to sing
Of knight forlorn and lady triumphing;

And flowers that lie upon the breast of May,
Like gems, were plucked to fashion garlands gay,
And laurels green to deck the poet's head,
For then the bard was loved and honoured.
—Some lay beside a river lapsing clear,
And fancied Sylph or Naiad watching near,
While some of fabled Faun and Dryad told,
Or Fairy haunting well or fountain cold;
And ever and anon the fitful breeze
Came aiding those most gentle phantasies,
And died away, as voices by a lyre
(Touched by the trembling of its notes) expire.
—Around the lovers brows white roses hung,
And at their feet the wealth of spring was flung;
And they at times would sit apart and speak
Each to the other with a flushing cheek,
Or note the gentle look in maiden's eye,
Called up by lordly gallant whispering by.