CUPID SEIZED BY PIRATES.

HIGH noon was from its burning round declined;
The purple clouds were sinking in repose;
And the rathe hyacinth, and scented rose,
With dew, like living diamond wreathes, entwined,
Were waving in the whispering twilight wind;
And, hymning to the sweet departing day,
A thousand birds were singing on the spray,
Like voices in the myrtle boughs enshrined.

But, in an arbour, wrapped in poppied sleep,
With all their sweet confusion in his ear,
Like music dropping from the starry sphere,
When spirits sing around the Olympian steep,
An Infant lay. The bowering roses weep

Their tenfold fragrance round his slumbering form; There comes no cloud by day, no midnight storm; But Venus and her doves sweet vigil keep.

But, on the ocean waters, sunset-stained,
Three lovely sister shapes are seen to glide,
Sporting along the silver murmuring tide;

And now the primrose bank their steps have gained:

Q

Above their heads day's fiery star has waned;
But, like a meteor through the twilight haze,
The Infant on his couch now meets their gaze:
Spell-struck they stand, in wonder sweet enchained.

And still he sleeps: yet on his cheek a gleam
Spreads, like the sunshine of an April day;
And smiles slong his lips fantastic stray;
And toss his little arms as in a dream;

And lovely scorn, and sportive mischief, seem
Ev'n through his eyelids' silken lash to glow :
Beside him lie relaxed an ivory bow,

And shafts whose points with gold and diamond beam.

And now they bear him struggling to the brink :
In vain his stamping feet, and looks of flame;
In vain his kiss, their laughing lips to tame;
Still closer round the babe their white arms link.
No fear that they in the wild waters sink;

Born in the depths of ocean's pearly caves,

They float, they fly, like sea-birds on the waves; Scarce even the curling foam their tresses drink.

And in their snowy arms upbearing still

The boy of beauty, like an Evening Star

Seen flashing o'er the purple tides afar, They reach the foot of a sea-cinctured Isle, Where blushes through the year spring's living smile; And airs like scents from Indian censers rolled,