 | Poems |  |
60
[The moon unfurls her blushing sail]
The moon unfurls her blushing sail
Along the bright translucent sky,
And, like the curves of beauty's veil,
The gilded, starry pennons fly;
Night's empress through no sable rack
Majestic scuds her haloed way,
For lucid gleams o'er glory's track
Of pensive splendour brightly play.
Along the bright translucent sky,
And, like the curves of beauty's veil,
The gilded, starry pennons fly;
Night's empress through no sable rack
Majestic scuds her haloed way,
For lucid gleams o'er glory's track
Of pensive splendour brightly play.
The sylphs sport on the argent stream,
That, chiming, laves the pebbled shore,
And o'er the glassy surface gleam
The twinkling lights, that richly store
The sapphire vault, whose radiant dies
Beam heaven's own lambent glory round,
And span, and deck the deep blue skies,
Where beauty reigns, and virtue's crowned.
That, chiming, laves the pebbled shore,
And o'er the glassy surface gleam
The twinkling lights, that richly store
The sapphire vault, whose radiant dies
Beam heaven's own lambent glory round,
And span, and deck the deep blue skies,
Where beauty reigns, and virtue's crowned.
Enamoured Echo's airy numbers
Are mute along the flower-girt wild,
For the nymph serenely slumbers
On her perfumed couch—and smiled
When love-lorn Philomel's last note
Mellifluous fell upon her ear,
And when angelic strains did float
Along the sky in music clear.
Are mute along the flower-girt wild,
For the nymph serenely slumbers
On her perfumed couch—and smiled
When love-lorn Philomel's last note
Mellifluous fell upon her ear,
And when angelic strains did float
Along the sky in music clear.
Oh! could my waxen pinions soar,
And ride along the viewless sky,
The eagle's compeer, I would pour
Unheeded strains no more, but fly
With my wild harp diffusing love,
And cull the pure ambrosial flowers,
That amaranthine bloom above,
And tapestry celestial bowers.
And ride along the viewless sky,
The eagle's compeer, I would pour
Unheeded strains no more, but fly
61
And cull the pure ambrosial flowers,
That amaranthine bloom above,
And tapestry celestial bowers.
O who can love this dull, cold sphere,
Where man brooks nought of heavenly form,
Where waves the pall, and creaks the bier,
Surfeits the viper, gnaws the worm?
Love is deceit, ambition guile,
Fame a bright shadow, beauty dust,
Honour destruction, worth a wile,
Glory is death, and virtue's curst.
Where man brooks nought of heavenly form,
Where waves the pall, and creaks the bier,
Surfeits the viper, gnaws the worm?
Love is deceit, ambition guile,
Fame a bright shadow, beauty dust,
Honour destruction, worth a wile,
Glory is death, and virtue's curst.
But heaven glows in each glen and wold,
When silver-hooded eve hangs o'er,
Nature's pure volume's then unrolled,
And her votarist treasures lore;
Each tinkling rill, in heavenly chime,
Responds the warbling notes of lyres
Touched by pure choirs in bliss sublime,
And raptured mind with fancy fires.
When silver-hooded eve hangs o'er,
Nature's pure volume's then unrolled,
And her votarist treasures lore;
Each tinkling rill, in heavenly chime,
Responds the warbling notes of lyres
Touched by pure choirs in bliss sublime,
And raptured mind with fancy fires.
Yet earth is but a vapid sphere,
Ethereal glory's vestibule,
A fire-girt pathway, wild and drear,
A speck in heaven's unbounded rule!
The bright beams of an endless day
Illume not oft our darkling path,
Religion is a wandering ray,
A smile from the mien oft clothed in wrath.
Ethereal glory's vestibule,
A fire-girt pathway, wild and drear,
A speck in heaven's unbounded rule!
The bright beams of an endless day
Illume not oft our darkling path,
Religion is a wandering ray,
A smile from the mien oft clothed in wrath.
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