Now, round my favored grot let roses rise, To strew the bank where Phaon wakes from rest; O! happy buds! to kiss his burning breast, And die, beneath the luster of his eyes! Now, let the timbrels echo to the skies, Now damsels sprinkle cassia on his vest, With od'rous wreaths of constant myrtle dressed, And flowers, deep tinted with the rainbow's dyes! From cups of porphyry let nectar flow, Rich as the perfume of Phoenicia's vine! Now let his dimpling cheek with rapture glow, While round his heart love's mystic fetters twine; And let the Grecian Lyre its aid bestow, In songs of triumph, to proclaim him mine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ARCTURUS IN AUTUMN by SARA TEASDALE A BIRD'S ANGER by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 93 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI YOUTH'S SONGS by MAXWELL ANDERSON OUR LADY OF CONSOLATION by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |