Philomela Or, Poems By Mrs. Elizabeth Singer, [Now Rowe,] ... The Second Edition |
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THE VISION, To Theron. |
 | Philomela |  |
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THE VISION, To Theron.
Now gentle Sleep my willing Eyes had clos'd,And this gay Scene the smiling God impos'd,
Methought I in a Myrtle Shade was plac'd,
My Tresses curl'd, my Brows with Laurel grac'd;
Fresh was the Air, serenely bright the Day,
And all around look'd ravishingly gay,
Active my Thoughts, my Lyre was in my Hand,
And once more Theron did my Voice command;
Once more the Charming Hero did inspire
My daring Muse with an Heroïc Fire;
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Till animated with the gen'rous Sound,
Like fighting Gods, each shook his Dart and frown'd.
The listning Streams, inchanted with my Song,
Scarce drove their still preceding Waves along;
Whilst o'er, and o'er, obliging Echo bears,
Thro' ev'ry Cavern the immortal Airs;
About my Lips th' impatient Zephyrs hung,
To snatch the tuneful Numbers from my Tongue;
And the pleas'd Graces crouded round, to, hear their Darling sung.
The Queen of Beauty, and her Doves, stood by,
When I, to please the Lovely Deity,
Told her, what Looks, what Eyes, and Smiles He had,
Not her own Charms more fatally betray'd:
At ev'ry Strain the wounded Goddess sighs,
Strains sweet and powerful, as her own Fair Eyes.
Then, smiling, tow'rds her own bright Orb she flew,
And, with her, all the sanguine Visions drew.
| Philomela | |