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3. PART THE THIRD.
The grove is hush'd, the saffron-tinged clouds
Shoot down their softening colours to the west;
Advancing night the sable mountains shrouds,
And with her dewy feet are meads and flowrets press'd.
Shoot down their softening colours to the west;
Advancing night the sable mountains shrouds,
And with her dewy feet are meads and flowrets press'd.
Slowly the solemn moon its full orb rears,
And through the skies its lucid influence throws,
Each glittering star 'mid fleecy clouds appears,
And through th' immeasurable path of heaven
The high galaxy glows.
And through the skies its lucid influence throws,
Each glittering star 'mid fleecy clouds appears,
And through th' immeasurable path of heaven
The high galaxy glows.
The moon-beams glide serene across the lake,
Whose glassy bosom gloomy branches shade;
The dying gale the murmuring sedges shake,
While sounds melodious, pouring through the grove,
The solemn stillness of the night invade.
Whose glassy bosom gloomy branches shade;
The dying gale the murmuring sedges shake,
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While sounds melodious, pouring through the grove,
The solemn stillness of the night invade.
Cool as the eve, mild as the lucid spheres,
Fair CARMEL wanders 'mid the nightly dew;
But wondering stood, as through her well-tun'd ears
She listening soft harmonious numbers drew.
Fair CARMEL wanders 'mid the nightly dew;
But wondering stood, as through her well-tun'd ears
She listening soft harmonious numbers drew.
On the chaste moon she fix'd her crystal eyes,
Her ear attentive caught the trembling sounds;
Responsive her lone bosom utter'd sighs,
While the musician pours his lofty strains,
They fill the woods, they echo o'er the plains,
The distant air with heavenly notes resounds.
Her ear attentive caught the trembling sounds;
Responsive her lone bosom utter'd sighs,
While the musician pours his lofty strains,
They fill the woods, they echo o'er the plains,
The distant air with heavenly notes resounds.
SONG OF THELMON.
"In the cool bosom of the solemn night
"With songs sublime I hail the Power Divine,
"As from yon orb the quivering beams of light
"Surround the shades, and through the ether bright
"Soften the scene, and o'er the trembling waters shine.
"In the cool bosom of the solemn night
"With songs sublime I hail the Power Divine,
"As from yon orb the quivering beams of light
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"Surround the shades, and through the ether bright
"Soften the scene, and o'er the trembling waters shine.
"'Mid splendent day oft jarring passions war,
"But calm at eve I tread the silent grove,
"And feel delight from every brook and star:
"Each solemn scene I view with sacred awe,
"While from a mental glance of Nature's law
"I learn the wonders of almighty love.
"But calm at eve I tread the silent grove,
"And feel delight from every brook and star:
"Each solemn scene I view with sacred awe,
"While from a mental glance of Nature's law
"I learn the wonders of almighty love.
"Rude were the storms which deep through my sad breast
"Have striv'n the germs of virtue to expel;
"Rebellious passions robb'd my soul of rest:
"But in despondency's most baleful hour
"I felt within a renovating Power
"Strengthen my soul, and all at last is well.
"Have striv'n the germs of virtue to expel;
"Rebellious passions robb'd my soul of rest:
"But in despondency's most baleful hour
"I felt within a renovating Power
"Strengthen my soul, and all at last is well.
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"My mind, no more in boisterous transports drown'd,
"Reflective feels a bosom form'd for love,
"Senses which touch the strings of thought profound,
"And taste each bliss in Nature's calm retreats;
"While o'er this wilderness of thorny sweets
"Wandering, with harmony of soul I move."
He ceas'd, and 'midst the thickets stray'd along.
The listening virgin's bosom swell'd with woe,
'Mid silent tears she heard the solemn song—
Well did her soul his heavenly accents know.
The listening virgin's bosom swell'd with woe,
'Mid silent tears she heard the solemn song—
Well did her soul his heavenly accents know.
Re-kindled passions warm her heaving breast,
While memory teems with proofs of former love;
Deep in her heart each accent is impress'd,
Scarce can she quit the lake, or shadowy waving grove.
While memory teems with proofs of former love;
Deep in her heart each accent is impress'd,
Scarce can she quit the lake, or shadowy waving grove.
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Her fancy hears amidst the murmuring gale
Still the faint echoes of his music roll,
Homeward she bends at last, fatigu'd and pale,
And vainly strives to calm her trembling soul.
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