100
THE TRIUMPHS
At length the hour approach'd her heart desir'd,
And, in her lonely chamber now retir'd,
Her tender fancy gave the fondest scope
To ardent gratitude and eager hope.
"Dear airy being!" (the soft nymph exclaim'd)
"Whose power can break the spell that Spleen has fram'd,
Can, by the waving of thy viewless wing,
O'er darkest forms a golden radiance fling,
And make, in minds by sorriest thoughts perplext,
This moment's grief the triumph of the next;
I bless thy succour in each trial past;
Be present still, and save me in the last!"
Thus, with her lovely eyes devoutly fixt,
Where rays of hope, and fear, and reverence mixt,
The tender fair her faithful guard addrest,
Then with her cheek her downy pillow prest;
But long her wakeful lids refuse to close,
For curiosity dispels repose.
Her busy mind the mystic veil would pierce,
That hides the author of the pleasing verse;
And, in her lonely chamber now retir'd,
Her tender fancy gave the fondest scope
To ardent gratitude and eager hope.
"Dear airy being!" (the soft nymph exclaim'd)
"Whose power can break the spell that Spleen has fram'd,
Can, by the waving of thy viewless wing,
O'er darkest forms a golden radiance fling,
And make, in minds by sorriest thoughts perplext,
This moment's grief the triumph of the next;
I bless thy succour in each trial past;
Be present still, and save me in the last!"
Thus, with her lovely eyes devoutly fixt,
Where rays of hope, and fear, and reverence mixt,
The tender fair her faithful guard addrest,
Then with her cheek her downy pillow prest;
But long her wakeful lids refuse to close,
For curiosity dispels repose.
Her busy mind the mystic veil would pierce,
That hides the author of the pleasing verse;
