scene. Nought meet to mar the spell-upon the The warm Sun's darling offspring-Wines and Fruit- And sweet, I ween, the whisper'd tones, the air Bore only to her ear for whom they burn'd; Ah, sound! for which whoe'er hath loved-so oft hath yearn'd. IX. But, mid that graceful meeting, there were none Were witching words and brightest smiles supprest: For heart or fancy-and the wild and warm Thoughts of that sunny clime took wing and pour'd When on their eyes his youth's fresh glory blazed, Which leaves but Crime unscath'd on either side; The daily fever, and the midnight toil; Of Fortune wreaked on his declining day; The heap'd clouds labouring upward round his heart ;— X. The festive rite was o'er-the group was gone, A poesy of thought which yearns to pour Still worship to the Spirit of the Hour? Ah! they who bodied into Deity The rosy Hours, I ween, did scarcely err. Sweet Hours, ye have a life, and holily That life is worn! and when no rude sounds stir And filling us with calm and solemn thought, Against the pillar of a sleeping tree, When, hark! the still boughs rustled, and there went A murmur and a sigh along the air, And a light footstep like a melody Passed by the flowers-he turned-What Nymph is there? He gazed-sweet Heaven! 'tis she whose loveliness From these delicious groves) upon him beamed, XI. They met again, and oft! what time the Star And Mystery o'er their lonely meeting threw And Hope-life's chequering moonlight-smiled asunder Was all the stronger circled by romance. He found a name for her, if not her own, As that by lovers coin'd-the child-like art That breathes to vulgar words the fond thoughts of the heart! Creep slowly on, thou grey and wizard Time Thou grey and wizard Time, creep slowly on- Nor tell too soon how soon those hours were gone. END OF PART I. |