I ROSE one happy morn with beating heart, Ere bright Aurora with a radiant blush Swung joyfully the Eastern gates apart, And bathed the purple hills in rosy flush. Adown the mead a wayward impulse led My footsteps glad, until I came to where A smooth full-bosom'd stream on flowery bed Voluptuous flowed, and unexpected there I saw my love, who, like a Naiad bright, Stood on its marge, a vision of delight. With quicken'd pulse I ran an eager race 'Gainst warm Apollo for the first fresh kiss; But Love outstripp'd e'en his enamour'd pace, And won the beamy god's intended bliss. I press'd soft lips ere sleeping daisy heard; Her sweet voice thrill'd me ere the lark rose up From grassy couch, or wanton zephyr stirr'd The dew-brimm'd chalice of the buttercup; And my enraptur'd soul, in joy, confess'd, Of all Love's happy hours, that was the best! |