Ode to the Duke of Wellington, and other poems by Robert Charles Dallas ... Written between the ages of eleven and thirteen years |
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TO ANOTHER YOUNG LADY,
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 | Ode to the Duke of Wellington, and other poems |  |
153
TO ANOTHER YOUNG LADY,
ON A SIMILAR OCCASION.
Ah! why should our Poets, neglectfully dreaming,
Attune their soft lays to the Graces of yore?
The bright eye of Beauty o'er Britain is beaming,
And love-laughing Cupid hath arrows in store.
Attune their soft lays to the Graces of yore?
The bright eye of Beauty o'er Britain is beaming,
And love-laughing Cupid hath arrows in store.
For erst though the fables of Fancy have doated
On Goddess-like visions so gay and so bright;
O'er Helen's proud bosom no ringlet hath floated,
So lovely as this, that I kiss with delight!
On Goddess-like visions so gay and so bright;
O'er Helen's proud bosom no ringlet hath floated,
So lovely as this, that I kiss with delight!
When first I beheld it refulgently shining,
It wav'd on the lily white neck of the fair:
Ye Gods! with what transport I view'd it reclining;
The starlight of Glory that gleam'd on despair!
It wav'd on the lily white neck of the fair:
Ye Gods! with what transport I view'd it reclining;
The starlight of Glory that gleam'd on despair!
154
And now that my hand in Love's fever is pressing
This token of bliss to my joy swollen heart;
I vow—that may life prove a bane, or a blessing,
'Till throbs my last pulse, it shall never depart.
This token of bliss to my joy swollen heart;
I vow—that may life prove a bane, or a blessing,
'Till throbs my last pulse, it shall never depart.
| Ode to the Duke of Wellington, and other poems | |