TO SOME LADIES, ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL. WHAT though, while the wonders of nature exploring, Yet over the steep, whence the mountain-stream rushes, Why linger ye so, the wild labyrinth strolling? 'Tis morn, and the flowers with dew are yet drooping, If a cherub, on pinions of silver descending, Had brought me a gem from the fretwork of heaven; And smiles with his star-cheering voice sweetly blending, The blessings of Tighe had melodiously given; It had not created a warmer emotion Than the present, fair nymphs, I was blessed with from you; Than the shell, from the bright golden sands of the ocean, Which the emerald waves at your feet gladly threw. For, indeed, 'tis a sweet and peculiar pleasure ON RECEIVING A COPY OF VERSES FROM THE SAME LADIES. HAST thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem, When it flutters in sunbeams that shine through a fountain? Hast thou a goblet for dark sparkling wine? Hast thou a steed with a mane richly flowing? Hast thou a sword that thine enemy's smart is? Hast thou a trumpet rich melodies blowing? And wear'st thou the shield of the famed Britomartis? What is it that hangs from thy shoulder so brave, Is it a scarf that thy fair lady gave? And hastest thou now to that fair lady's bower? Ah! courteous Sir Knight, with large joy thou art crowned; Full many the glories that brighten thy youth! I will tell thee my blisses, which richly abound In magical powers to bless and to soothe. On this scroll thou seest written in characters fair Of charming my mind from the trammels of pain. This canopy mark: 'tis the work of a fay; And cruelly left him to sorrow and anguish. There, oft would he bring from his soft-sighing lute Wild strains to which, spell-bound, the nightingales listened! The wondering spirits of heaven were mute, And tears 'mong the dewdrops of morning oft glistened. In this little dome, all those melodies strange, Soft, plaintive, and melting, forever will sigh; So when I am in a voluptuous vein, I pillow my head on the sweets of the rose, And list to the tale of the wreath, and the chain, Till its echoes depart; then I sink to repose. Adieu! valiant Eric! with joy thou art crowned, ΤΟ HADST thou lived in days of old, And thy humid eyes, that dance Of thy dark hair, that extends Turn to whence they sprung before. Peeps the richness of a pearl. Downward too flows many a tress With a glossy waviness, Full, and round like globes that rise From the censer to the skies Through sunny hair. Add too, the sweetness Of thy honeyed voice; the neatness Of thine ankle lightly turned: Saving when with freshening lave, Thou dipp'st them in the taintless wave; Like twin water-lilies, born In the coolness of the morn. O, if thou hadst breathed then, Than twin-sister of Thalia? Will I call the Graces four. Hadst thou lived when chivalry Tell me what thou wouldst have been? Of thy broidered-floating vest Has placed a golden cuirass there, Like sunbeams in a cloudlet nested, O'er his loins, his trappings glow |