16
THE TRIUMPHS
While earth's new ills his friendly soul absorb.
From Cynthia call'd me to his kindred orb;
And, eager to redress the woes of man,
The brilliant son of Vesper thus began:
'Thou softest being of th' ætherial kind,
By thy benignant cares no more confin'd
To smooth the ruffled plume of Zephyr's wing,
To guard from cruel frost the infant spring,
To drive gross atoms from the rays of noon!
Or chase the halo from the vapourish moon!
Thy friendly nature will not now deny
To quit for nobler toils thy native sky;
Thou seest how Spleen's infernal vapours roll
Across the sweet serene of Woman's soul;
And earth, which darkens as her beauties fade,
Must grow a second hell without thy aid:
Take then thy station! fix thy nobler reign
O'er those fine chords that form the female brain,
That us'd, ere injur'd by the rust of Spleen,
To fill with harmony the human scene!
From Cynthia call'd me to his kindred orb;
And, eager to redress the woes of man,
The brilliant son of Vesper thus began:
'Thou softest being of th' ætherial kind,
By thy benignant cares no more confin'd
To smooth the ruffled plume of Zephyr's wing,
To guard from cruel frost the infant spring,
To drive gross atoms from the rays of noon!
Or chase the halo from the vapourish moon!
Thy friendly nature will not now deny
To quit for nobler toils thy native sky;
Thou seest how Spleen's infernal vapours roll
Across the sweet serene of Woman's soul;
And earth, which darkens as her beauties fade,
Must grow a second hell without thy aid:
Take then thy station! fix thy nobler reign
O'er those fine chords that form the female brain,
That us'd, ere injur'd by the rust of Spleen,
To fill with harmony the human scene!
