Emboss'd with stars, the glitt'ring gems of heav'n;
And high enthron'd, from clouds emerg'd the moon,
Walking in brightness through the spangled arch,
Dispers'd the darkness with her lucid rays,
And tipp'd the hills with silver.

Underneath

A tufted oak, upon a grassy couch,

A slumbering youth reposed: sleep on his eyes
Sat heavy, and, with its benumbing pow'r,
Seal'd up each faculty in helpless stupor,
Thoughtless and fearless of impending harm;
But at his side, to him unknown, behold
A guard seraphic stood....a glorious form;
One from high heav'n dispatch'd, to watch around,
And shield young Henry from the countless ills
That hourly hang o'er mortals' heads; to guide
Th' unwary youth, th' heav'nly messenger,
Faithful to his great charge, his steps attend
With sweet delight; obedient to his God.
Around his head a radiant glory shone;
Youth in his face sat smiling all serene;
And his gay plumage, ting'd with all the dies
Which glow in that fair arch by mortals seen,
When clouds bedew the earth with gentle show'rs.

Still was the season; solemn silence reign'd;
Ev'n Philomel forgot her mournful tale,
And hush'd in gentle rest, all nature lay!
Only Celesto wak'd: long wrapt in thought
The angel stood, and view'd the wond'rous scene.
The wond'rous scene inspir'd devotion pure,
And love and rapture glow'd within his breast;
Love too intense, and rapture too divine

To be lock'd up in silence, from his side
His golden harp he takes, and with sweet voice
Charms the still night, with melody more soft
Than sabled Orpheus, when the savage herd
Listen'd, attentive, to his warbled song.

air.

Thou great omnipotent,

Thou Lord of earth and sky;
I on thy gracious errand sent,
Adore thy majesty.

When I behold the sun,

The creature of thy pow'r,
His dafly radiant circle run,
I wonder and adore.

The moon and stars, by night,
In feebler glories shine;

But all from thee derive their light,
Thou source of light divine.

Thine everlasting praise

Seraphic armies sing,

And I (unworthy) join the lays,

Thou everlasting king.

Hail! holy, holy, Lord!.

Thrice holy one in three;

Thy boundless name be still ador'd,

Throughout eternity.

But see, a beauteous form, with nimble step, Trips o'er the dewy green, and this way bends; A flowing robe hangs loosely o'er her limbs, By every breath of wanton zephyrs mov'd: A rosy chaplet, intermix'd with sprigs Of blooming myrtle, circles round her head, And in her face sits laughter uncontrol'd. All gay and sprightly, as the summer's sun, Two nymphs attend her, and, with skilful hand, On pipe and tabor play, and, with their feet, Keep time and measure to the jocund sound.

Ah! fatal charmer! Ah! insidious fair! For all's a painted show, a hollow cheat: Long from her breast has virtue fled, and vice Reigns in her heart, and wantons in her eyes; Syren her name; by night she issues forth, And spreads her silken nets of gay delights, To catch unwary travellers, and such Who rove abroad unguarded and secure. Delusive flatt'ry hangs upon her tongue, And endless ruin follows in her train; Her steps lay hold on death, and all her paths, Though strew'd with roses, lead directly down To the black chambers of eternal woe.

SYREN.

'Wake sleeping youth, awake, and see
Thy love, thy Syren waits for thee:
Why waste the hours as they fly,

In quick succession, round the sky.

The present moment seize, live while 'tis day, Ere time and youth take wings, and fly away.

Jocund sounds shall greet thine ear;
Age and wrinkles soon appear.
Haste! improve thy little span,

'Tis the chiefest end of man.

Thus to find happiness, be blest, and prove
The sprightly joys of music, wine, and love.

chorus.

Tk present moment seize, live while 'tis day,
Ere time and youth take wing, and fly away.

HENRY.

What sounds melodious charm my waken'd ear! What heav'nly form art thou! if from the skies, But now descended to this earthly ball, Say, may a mortal ask (unblam'd) thy name! And what thy errand is to this low world! That with due rev'rence he may homage pay!

SYREN.

Not from the skies I come, I reign below,
Sole empress of this beautiful terrene:
My empire's large, my subjects many are,
And I their queen, their fount of happiness.
I lead them on in pleasure's smiling path,
Bestrew'd with roses, lin'd with gay delights.
I crown their temples, some with purest gold,
With laurel some, enduring ever green,
Emblem of victory, and on them pour

Treasures of golden ore, and sparkling gems,
From distant Ophir and Golconda brought:
I lead the sprightly dance, and from their breasts

Banish each care, and chace corroding thought,
Or drown them in the sparkling, flowing bowl.
Come then, my Henry, let me call thee mine;
Come, and possess thy fill of happiness!
See, to adorn thy head, I have prepar'd
This flow'ry coronet, of various hue;
See riches, honors, pleasures, I bestow,
Come, follow me, and live secure from woe.

HENRY.

Charmer! lead on! I feel thy sov'reign pow'r Inflame my heart, and from this happy hour Thy steps I follow; thine, devoted live ; And, from thy hand the great reward receive Thou on thy faithful subjects dost bestow,

To make them happy, while they dwell below. Thy voice shall be my guide, thy smile my heav'n; I'll be content with that, let that be giv'n.

SYREN.

Take my hand, and take my heart,
Thou and I must never part:

Let the fools who would be wise,
Talk of pleasures in the skies;
We were never there to see,
What those fancied pleasures be.

Let the dreamers have their way,
We'll be wiser still than they :
We'll the present hour improve,
As from bliss to bliss we rove;