240
Poems on
Awake, O South, and where my Charmer lies,
Bid Roses bloom, and Beds of Fragrance rise:
Gently, O! gently round in Whispers fly,
Sigh to his Sighs, and fan the glowing Sky!
If o'er the Waves he cuts the liquid Way,
Be still, ye Waves, or round his Vessel play!
And you, ye Winds, confine each ruder Breath,
Lie hush'd in Silence, and be calm, as Death!
But if he stay detain'd by adverse Gales,
My Sighs shall drive the Ship, and fill the flagging Sails.
Bid Roses bloom, and Beds of Fragrance rise:
Gently, O! gently round in Whispers fly,
Sigh to his Sighs, and fan the glowing Sky!
If o'er the Waves he cuts the liquid Way,
Be still, ye Waves, or round his Vessel play!
And you, ye Winds, confine each ruder Breath,
Lie hush'd in Silence, and be calm, as Death!
But if he stay detain'd by adverse Gales,
My Sighs shall drive the Ship, and fill the flagging Sails.
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