« EelmineJätka »
Come, then; thy kind recesses ope!
To Enon's wild and silent shade,
Or, where the hermit, BELA, leads
Where Eden's fairer waters flow,
To these fair scenes of Fancy's reign,
'Twas thus of old a poet prayed;
Th’indulgent power his prayer approved, And, ere the gathered Rose could fade,
Restored him to the scenes he loved.
A Rose, the poet's favourite flower,
From FLORA's cultured walks he bore; No fairer bloomed in Esher's bower,
Nor Prior's charming Chloe wore.
No fairer flowers could Fancy twine
To hide ANACREON's snowy hair; For there ALMERIA's bloom divine,
And Elliot's sweetest blush was there.
When she, the pride of courts, retires,
And leaves for shades, a nation's love, With awe the village maid admires,
How WALDEGRAVE looks, how WALDE
So marvelled much in Enon's shade
The flowers that all uncultured grew, When there the splendid Rose displayed
Her swelling breast, and shining hue.
Yet one, that oft adorned the place
Where now her gaudy rival reigned, Of simpler bloom, but kindred race,
The pensive EGLANTINE complained.
“ Mistaken youth," with sighs she said,
“From nature and from me to stray! “ The bard, by splendid forms betrayed,
“ No more shall frame the purer lay.
'Luxuriant, like the flaunting Rose,
“And gay the brilliant strains may be, “But far, in beauty, far from those,
“ That flowed to nature and to me."
The poet felt with fond surprise,
The truths the sylvan critic told;
“Is gay, is beauteous to behold;