Lines in the Manner of Spencer
- 1O Peace, that on a lilied bank dost love
- 2To rest thine head beneath an Olive-Tree,
- 3I would that from the pinions of thy Dove
- 4One quill withouten pain ypluck'd might be!
- 5For O! I wish my Sara's frowns to flee,
- 6And fain to her some soothing song would write,
- 7Lest she resent my rude discourtesy,
- 8Who vow'd to meet her ere the morning light,
- 9But broke my plighted word--ah! false and recreant wight!
- 10Last night as I my weary head did pillow
- 11With thoughts of my dissever'd Fair engross'd,
- 12Chill Fancy droop'd wreathing herself with willow,
- 13As though my breast entomb'd a pining ghost.
- 14'From some blest couch, young Rapture's bridal boast,
- 15Rejected Slumber! hither wing thy way;
- 16But leave me with the matin hour, at most!
- 17As night-clos'd floweret to the orient ray,
- 18My sad heart will expand, when I the Maid survey.'
- 19But Love, who heard the silence of my thought,
- 20Contriv'd a too successful wile, I ween:
- 21And whisper'd to himself, with malice fraught--
- 22'Too long our Slave the Damsel's smiles hath seen:
- 23To-morrow shall he ken her alter'd mien!'
- 24He spake, and ambush'd lay, till on my bed
- 25The morning shot her dewy glances keen,
- 26When as I 'gan to lift my drowsy head--
- 27'Now, Bard! I'll work thee woe!' the laughing Elfin said.
- 28Sleep, softly-breathing God! his downy wing
- 29Was fluttering now, as quickly to depart;
- 30When twang'd an arrow from Love's mystic string,
- 31With pathless wound it pierc'd him to the heart.
- 32Was there some magic in the Elfin's dart?
- 33Or did he strike my couch with wizard lance?
- 34For straight so fair a Form did upwards start
- 35(No fairer deck'd the bowers of old Romance)
- 36That Sleep enamour'd grew, nor mov'd from his sweet trance!
- 37My Sara came, with gentlest look divine;
- 38Bright shone her eye, yet tender was its beam:
- 39I felt the pressure of her lip to mine!
- 40Whispering we went, and Love was all our theme--
- 41Love pure and spotless, as at first, I deem,
- 42He sprang from Heaven! Such joys with Sleep did 'bide,
- 43That I the living Image of my Dream
- 44Fondly forgot. Too late I woke, and sigh'd--
- 45'O! how shall I behold my Love at eventide!'