OH, what a tempest whirl'd us hither! Winds, whose savage breath could wither All the light and languid flowers That bloom in Epicurus' bowers! Yet think not, George, that fancy's charm Forsook me in this rude alarm. When close they reef'd the timid sail, When, every plank complaining loud, We labour'd in the midnight gale, And e'en our haughty main-mast bow'd! The muse, in that unlovely hour, Benignly brought her soothing power, And, midst the war of waves and wind In songs elysian lapp'd my mind! She open'd, with her golden key, The casket where my memory lays Those little gems of poesy, Which time has saved from ancient days! Take one of these, to Lais sung; I wrote it while my hammock swung, As one might write a dissertation Upon "suspended animation!" SWEETLY you kiss, my Lais dear! But, while you kiss, I feel a tear Bitter, as those when lovers part, In mystery from your eyelid start! Sadly you lean your head to mine, And round my neck in silence twine, Your hair along my bosom spread, All humid with the tears you shed! Have I not kiss'd those lids of snow? Yet still, my love, like founts they flow, Bathing our cheeks, whene'er they meet -- Why is it thus? do tell me, sweet! Ah, Lais! are my bodings right? Am I to lose you? is to-night Our last -- go, false to heaven and me! Your very tears are treachery. Such, while in air I floating hung, Such was the strain, Morgante mio! The muse and I together sung, With Boreas to make out the trio But, bless the little fairy isle! How sweetly, after all our ills, We saw the dewy morning smile Serenely o'er its fragrant hills! And felt the pure, elastic flow Of airs, that round this Eden blow, With honey freshness, caught by stealth, Warm from the very lips of health! Oh! could you view the scenery dear, That now beneath my window lies, You'd think, that Nature lavish'd here Her purest wave, her softest skies, To make a heaven for love to sigh in, For bards to live and saints to die in! Close to my wooded bank below, In glassy calm the waters sleep, And to the sun-beam proudly show The coral rocks they love to steep! The fainting breeze of morning fails, The drowsy boat moves slowly past, And I can almost touch its sails That languish idly round the mast. The sun has now profusely given The flashes of a noontide heaven, And, as the wave reflects his beams, Another heaven its surface seems! Blue light and clouds of silvery tears So pictured o'er the waters lie, That every languid bark appears To float along a burning sky! Oh! for the boat the angel gave To him who, in his heavenward flight, Sail'd, o'er the sun's ethereal wave, To planet-isles of odorous light! Sweet Venus, what a clime he found Within thy orb's ambrosial round! There spring the breezes, rich and warm, That pant around thy twilight car; There angels dwell, so pure of form, That each appears a living star! These are the sprites, O radiant queen! Thou send'st so often to the bed Of her I love, with spell unseen, Thy planet's brightening balm to shed To make the eye's enchantment clearer, To give the cheek one rosebud more, And bid that flushing lip be dearer, Which had been, oh! too dear before! But, whither means the muse to roam? 'Tis time to call the wanderer home. Who could have ever thought to search her Up in the clouds with Father Kircher? So, health and love to all your mansion! Long may the bowl that pleasures bloom in, The flow of heart, the soul's expansion, Mirth and song your board illumine! Fare you well -- remember too, When cups are flowing to the brim, That here is one who drinks to you, And, oh! -- as warmly drink to him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLNEY HYMNS: 1. WALKING WITH GOD by WILLIAM COWPER THE MISTAKE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE LIVING LOST by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ORPHAN BORN by ROBERT JONES BURDETTE ANNA, THY CHARMS by ROBERT BURNS |