 | Poetic Lucubrations |  |
69
MARIAN.
I.
Phœbus is hast'ning to his western bed,And longs to rest his weary languid head;
A few rich beams are o'er the mountains thrown,
But ev'ning claims the valleys as her own.
70
That seems for love, and dalliance to be made:
Large walnuts o'er it their rich foliage throw,
And cool the turf, whence purple roses grow,
And Ouse whilst murm'ring o'er his pebbly bed,
Soft music seems througout the bow'r to spread.
II.
Here Marian's raven locks are flowing,Loosely to the gentle wind:
Her cheek with soft emotion glowing,
Shows that passion rules her mind.
71
III.
Her pouting, coral lip doth quiver,Her tearful glance is turn'd on high:
Now seated by the gurgling river,
Murmurs answer to her sigh.
IV.
The marble bosom wildly beating,Is expos'd to zephyr's gaze:
Who the snowy circlet meeting,
With it's heav'nly beauty plays.
V.
Again she throws her ken to heav'n,As tho' it were her native place:
Now to the lake her eyes are giv'n,
Which boasts the shadow of her face.
72
VI.
At length upon the turf reclining,By the margin of the deep,
Her arms around her neck entwining,
She yields her pensive soul to sleep.
VII.
Now the zephyrs thro' the valley,Careless, listless, slowly stray,
With the slumb'ring maiden rally,
With her countless beauties play.
VIII.
One flutt'ring soft his airy pinion,Sports within her ebon hair:
One of the lip claims sole dominion,
Drinks the balmy fragrance there.
73
IX.
One on her brow, so arch'd, and placid,Seats his light and tiny weight:
Fans away the pearly acid,
Oozing from the visual gate.
X.
Love, that power, all commanding,View'd the scene from neighb'ring heights,
And his golden wing expanding,
In the blissful bow'r alights.
XI.
He prob'd her heart and saw with gladness,Passion in her bosom reign'd,
Passion, which almost to madness,
O'er her senses sway had gain'd
74
XII.
He took a shaft from out the quiver,That from his polish'd shoulder hung:
A shaft by Venus shap'd, that never
Miss'd its aim, the bow string wrung.
XIII.
The arrow whistled, and the virginFelt the glowing blue stream creep:
The crimson fountain quick emerging,
Show'd the wound was sure and deep.
| Poetic Lucubrations | |