Poems (Campbell)/To the Northern Islander
TO THE NORTHERN ISLANDER.AUGUST, 1814.
As sweet and grateful as the balmy show'r On scorch'd Arabia's dewless plains descending,When ev'ry fragrant shrub, and lovely flow'r, All faint and with'ring, to the earth are bending;As soft and sweetly on my pensive soulThe soothing voice of approbation stole!I felt my grief-chill'd bosom glow againWith long-forgotten pleasure at the strain.
Minstrel! the harp which thou hast deign'd to praise, Ere yet its humble notes are hush'd for ever,Would gladly thank thee for thy gen'rous lays— Then sleep in silence, and awaken never:Nor hung in these enchanting fragrant groves,Haunts of the joyous Muse, and laughing loves!But rudely thrown in some dark humid cave,Where the lone echo mocks the hoarse sea-wave.
To these "blue isles" may'st thou in joy return, Heav'n, and the Muse, and love, thy lot befriending;And never, never, Minstrel! may'st thou mourn Thy early hopes, thy treasur'd friendships ending:But peace, and joy, and welcome, wait thee here;And ev'ry tie to feeling bosoms dear,Still warm thy heart, and bind thy fancy moreTo these rude isles, and this wild sea-beat shore.