220
KNICKERBOCKER GALLERY.
Of our prolific clime, so fatly rife
With the rank waste of vegetative life,
That plant a stake, at once it sprouts a tree,
Spawn genius, too, as well? How oft we see
Wit's sapless twig, that had but drooped elsewhere,
Here planted, shoot, and laurel honors bear!
Great god of Song! and canst thou thus inspire
At once such numbers with thy precious fire?
Of the two hundred, grant but only two
Of ancient stamp, and take the residue!
With the rank waste of vegetative life,
That plant a stake, at once it sprouts a tree,
Spawn genius, too, as well? How oft we see
Wit's sapless twig, that had but drooped elsewhere,
Here planted, shoot, and laurel honors bear!
Great god of Song! and canst thou thus inspire
At once such numbers with thy precious fire?
Of the two hundred, grant but only two
Of ancient stamp, and take the residue!
Thus musing, whether with the weight oppressed,
Of dinner, or my book, I sank to rest;
And my soul hovered with unplying wing
In that rare midway realm where visions spring.
When lo! along the horizon's brim afar
Rose on my sight great Phœbus' golden ear I
Harnessed to coursers, mettled, fleet, and proud,
Trampling the noiseless and unyielding cloud:
The linked Hours around the chariot flew,
Fair as the forms that Guido's pencil drew.
Aurora, leading the fair band of Hours,
Rained from her hand a shower of dropping flowers:
Seemed the whole vision, as it swam the sky,
An iridescent bubble floating by;
Which, as it neared Parnassus' sacred hill,
Lighted, re-bounded, quivered, and stood still!
At once dismounting there, the radiant god,
Gracious with smiles, the hallowed mountain trod.
His showering locks of amber, all unbound,
Shook the gold dust of shivered sunbeams round.
To greet him circling stood, with lesser stars,
Minerva, Venus, Dian, doughty Mars,
Bacchus, and Hermes: while the welkin rang
With hymning welcome, as the muses sang:
To whom Apollo: "Mighty deities!
And sisters fair! thanks for your courtesies!
Upon our circuit, through this nether sphere,
We begged your presence and your counsel here,
To grace our sessions, held to reprimand
Our laggard subjects of far Gotham-land
Of dinner, or my book, I sank to rest;
And my soul hovered with unplying wing
In that rare midway realm where visions spring.
When lo! along the horizon's brim afar
Rose on my sight great Phœbus' golden ear I
Harnessed to coursers, mettled, fleet, and proud,
Trampling the noiseless and unyielding cloud:
The linked Hours around the chariot flew,
Fair as the forms that Guido's pencil drew.
Aurora, leading the fair band of Hours,
Rained from her hand a shower of dropping flowers:
Seemed the whole vision, as it swam the sky,
An iridescent bubble floating by;
Which, as it neared Parnassus' sacred hill,
Lighted, re-bounded, quivered, and stood still!
At once dismounting there, the radiant god,
Gracious with smiles, the hallowed mountain trod.
His showering locks of amber, all unbound,
Shook the gold dust of shivered sunbeams round.
To greet him circling stood, with lesser stars,
Minerva, Venus, Dian, doughty Mars,
Bacchus, and Hermes: while the welkin rang
With hymning welcome, as the muses sang:
To whom Apollo: "Mighty deities!
And sisters fair! thanks for your courtesies!
Upon our circuit, through this nether sphere,
We begged your presence and your counsel here,
To grace our sessions, held to reprimand
Our laggard subjects of far Gotham-land
