From Anacron, Ode 3

Mesonuktiois poth hopais, k.t.l.

  1. 1'Twas now the hour when Night had driven
  2. 2Her car half round yon sable heaven;
  3. 3Boötes, only, seem'd to roll
  4. 4His Arctic charge around the Pole;
  5. 5While mortals, lost in gentle sleep,
  6. 6Forgot to smile, or ceas'd to weep:
  7. 7At this lone hour the Paphian boy,
  8. 8Descending from the realms of joy,
  9. 9Quick to my gate directs his course,
  10. 10And knocks with all his little force;
  11. 11My visions fled, alarm'd I rose,--
  12. 12"What stranger breaks my blest repose?"
  13. 13"Alas!" replies the wily child
  14. 14In faltering accents sweetly mild;
  15. 15"A hapless Infant here I roam,
  16. 16Far from my dear maternal home.
  17. 17Oh! shield me from the wintry blast!
  18. 18The nightly storm is pouring fast.
  19. 19No prowling robber lingers here;
  20. 20A wandering baby who can fear?"
  21. 21I heard his seeming artless tale,
  22. 22I heard his sighs upon the gale:
  23. 23My breast was never pity's foe,
  24. 24But felt for all the baby's woe.
  25. 25I drew the bar, and by the light
  26. 26Young Love, the infant, met my sight;
  27. 27His bow across his shoulders flung,
  28. 28And thence his fatal quiver hung
  29. 29(Ah! little did I think the dart
  30. 30Would rankle soon within my heart).
  31. 31With care I tend my weary guest,
  32. 32His little fingers chill my breast;
  33. 33His glossy curls, his azure wing,
  34. 34Which droop with nightly showers, I wring;
  35. 35His shivering limbs the embers warm;
  36. 36And now reviving from the storm,
  37. 37Scarce had he felt his wonted glow,
  38. 38Than swift he seized his slender bow:--
  39. 39"I fain would know, my gentle host,"
  40. 40He cried, "if this its strength has lost;
  41. 41I fear, relax'd with midnight dews,
  42. 42The strings their former aid refuse."
  43. 43With poison tipt, his arrow flies,
  44. 44Deep in my tortur'd heart it lies:
  45. 45Then loud the joyous Urchin laugh'd:--
  46. 46"My bow can still impel the shaft:
  47. 47'Tis firmly fix'd, thy sighs reveal it;
  48. 48Say, courteous host, canst thou not feel it?"