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O'er Disappointment's wintry desart fling
Each flower, that wreath'd the dewy locks of Spring,
When blushing, like a bride, from Hope's trim bower
She leapt, awaken'd by the pattering shower.
Now sheds the sinking Sun a deeper gleam,
Aid, lovely Sorceress! aid thy Poet's dream!
With faery wand O bid the Maid arise,
Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes;
As erst when from the Muses' calm abode
I came, with Learning's meed not unbestow'd:
When, as she twin'd a laurel round my brow,
And met my kiss, and half returned my vow,
O'er all my frame shot rapid my thrill'd heart,
And every nerve confess'd the electric dart.
