« ForrigeFortsett »
Revolving o'er and o'er and o’er,
The Sight sublime enrapts my thought, And swift along the past it strays, And much of strange event surveys, What History's faithful tongue has taught, Or Fancy form’d, whose plastic skill The page with fabled change can fill Of ill to good, or good to ill.
But can my soul the scéne enjoy, That rends another's breast with pain? O hapless he, who, near the main, Now sees its billowy rage destroy! Beholds the foundering bark descend, Nor knows, but what its fate may end. The moments of his dearest friend!
On the eastern hill's steep side
Northward swelling slopes are seen, Clad with corn-fields neat and green; There, through grassy plains below, Broad and smooth the waters flow; While the town, their banks along, Bids its clustering houses throng, In the sunshine glittering fair; Haunts of business, haunts of care!
Westward o'er the yellow meads Wind the rills through waving reeds ;
From dark elms a shadow falls
Hark! amidst the distant shades Murmuring drop the deep cascades; Hark, amidst the rustling trees Softly sighs the gentle breeze: And th'Eolian harp, reclin'd Obvious to the stream of wind, Pours its wildly-warbled strain, Rising now, now sunk again.
How the view detains the sight! *How the sounds the ear delight! Sweet the scene ! but think not there Happiness sincere to share; Reason still regrets the day Passing rapidly away; Lessening life's too little store; Passing, to return no more!
Y E Nymphs of Solyma! begin the song: ..
Rapt into future times, the bard begun: A virgin shall conceive, a virgin bear a Son! From Jesse's root behold a branch arise, Whose sacred flow'r with fragrance fills the skies : Th'ethereal Spirit o'er its leaves shall move, And on its top descends the mystic dove. Ye heav’ns ! from high the dewy nectar pour, And in soft silence shed the kindly show'r! , The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid, From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade.
All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud shall fail ;