236 Original 



The meadows drink the dews Aurora 



throws, 

 And smile a welcome to the iiew-born rose. 

 "With joy the shepherd pipes the hills among, 

 With joy the goatherd counts tlie early 



yoimg. 

 Again the seaman spreads the wanton .sail, 

 And cleaves the wide waves on the zephyr's 



gale; 

 Again to Bacchns the glad swains carouse, 

 And with his flowering ivy twine their 



brows ; 

 What time the bees their virgin wax-work 



mould, 

 And frame their cells, the sweets of Spring 



to hold. 

 Again the birds their powers of song 



employ, — 

 A thousand notes, and every note of joy. 

 Swallows, as circling round our walls they 



sweep, [deep ; 



And halcyons brooding on the peaceful 

 On the lone river's brink theswan is heard, 

 And in her secret grove the evening bird. 

 The earth her leafy ringlets waves at large, 

 The shepherd carols o'er his fleecy charge ; 

 Once more the sailor cleaves the vernal 



main ; 

 Once more blithe Bacchus leads the choral 



train; 

 Once more the wild bees hum,— the wild 



birds sing: 

 How should the bard forget to hail the 



Spring? 

 Credilon. 



ODE TO FANCY, 

 When blueey'd Fancy, heavenly maid ! 

 With sister arts and charms array'd, 

 Rose from her fairy chambers, wrought 

 By self-creating genius taught, 

 With purple wings she wav'd the air, 

 Prepar'd to leave her rosy sphere; 

 With magic art then veil'd her eyes, 

 And left the soft ambrosial skies, 

 To visit with her playful grace 

 The favor'd sons of mortal race. 

 To Grecian plains she bent her way,— 

 The fairy land for her display, — 

 And, when alighted on the earth. 

 What fairy regions hail'd her birth ; 

 What figures wild, disorder'd, fair. 

 Forth danc'd, and shook their mystic hair. 

 But when she held her glass to view. 



The magic mirror of her charms. 

 The Grecian bard the goddess knew. 



And hail'd her with extended arms. 

 But, when the Mantuan swain beheld her, 



He gently clasp'd the slender reed, 

 And sung an oaten song so tender, 



'Twas Fancy's image to his aid, 



Lo ! when thy golden tresses fair 



Wanton'd in the playful air. 

 And shook sweet odours from thy wing ; 



Then was the heav'n-inspiring hour," 



And its secret working pow'r, 

 Sweet Spencer, elfin child, can sing. 



Poetry. [April 1, 



But oh! thou sylph, with floating hair, 

 With bonny look, and gait so fair, 



And eyes that sparkle inward pleasure ; 

 Ah! say the heav'n-inspiring view. 

 That first a laughing Comus drew, 



Tlie fair Miltonic fertile treasure. 



Oh ! see the shapes, how fast they rise. 

 The fleeting spectres of the mind ; 



Some potent spirit call'd them up, 



Twas Collins sure, — a favor'd child, — 

 That with a sweep, rude as the wind. 



He struck, with hurried hand, the lyre. 

 And sung the * Passions,' lofty theme, 



The soul's delight, the Muses fire. 



That fancy scarce withstood the power 

 That rul'd and govern'd in that hour. 



Thee last I sing, sweet Fancy's child. 

 The bard of numbers sweetly wild, 

 E'en Shakspeare, genius of the mount 

 By Hippoerene's sacred fount ; 

 Who lov'd to range the chosen air 

 Where high poetic visions are ; 

 But chiefly lov'd the heaven-born smile, 

 That lit thy temples all diviue, 

 Sweet smiling goddess, soft array'd, 

 The poet's own fantastic maid. 



Thee, goddess, rule the varied year. 

 And wave thy wand aroimd the sphere. 

 When Spring comes tripping o'er the land. 

 To scatter sweets with liberal hand. 

 With soft delight to press the earth ; 

 Oh be then present at her birth. 

 To conjure with a livelier green. 

 And add a charm to ev'ry scene ; 

 When o'er the burning zenith shines. 

 Oh seek the shade, where heat reclines. 

 By haunted stream, or fountain clear, 

 Where lovers drop the stealing tear. 

 Where laughing satyrs dance around. 

 And wood-nymphs from their alleys bound. 

 From out their leafy covert hie, 

 And view thy form with curious eye. 

 A softer verdure dads the fields, 

 A richer grain the harvest yields. 

 When Ceres o'er the sheaf presides. 

 With rosy pleasure in her eyes ; 

 When blushing fruits perfume the air. 

 The nymph of orchards tends vtithcare; 

 While golden vintage sparkles round, 

 And laughing Bacchus, ivy crown'd. 

 With jollity, and dimpled smiles, 

 Surveys the cup of many wiles. 

 When down the west the tardy sun de- 

 clines, 

 Shorn of his locks of amber dipt in gold. 

 And the drear solstice sits npon the hills. 

 And the last sun-beam flies the wood; 

 When Nature throws her moody train 

 Along the wide and dreary plain. 

 Then haste thee, goddess, bright and fair. 

 Oh come and deck thy braided hair ; 

 Tho' now the gentle zephyr's fled. 

 Yet thou can'st deck each mountain's 



head. 

 And tho' the morning scented dew 

 Has lost Its sweet and fragrant hue. 



Yet 



