Each melts in each, till one pervading kiss But, Theon, 'tis a weary theme, I'll fly, my Theon, to thy burning breast, Thy lip shall teach me something more than dreams! THE SENSES. A DREAM. IMBOWER'D in the vernal shades, I saw the five luxurious maids, Whom mortals love, and call The Senses. Many and blissful were the ways In which they seem'd to pass their hours— One wander'd through the garden's maze, Inhaling all the soul of flowers; Like those who live upon the smell * Of roses, by the Ganges' stream, With perfume from the flowr'et's bell, She fed her life's ambrosial dream! Another touch'd the silvery lute, To chain a charmed sister's ear, Who hung beside her, still and mute, Gazing as if her eyes could hear ! * Circa fontem Gangis Astomorum gentem tantum viventum et odore quem naribus trahant. halitu .PLIN. lib. vii. cap. 2. The nymph who thrill'd the warbling wire Would often raise her ruby lip, As if it pouted with desire Some cooling, nectar'd draught to sip. Nor yet was she who heard the lute But, oh! the fairest of the group Was one who in the sunshine lay, And oped the cincture's golden loop And still her gentle hand she stole And look'd the while as if her soul Were in that heavenly touch absorb'd! Another nymph, who linger'd nigh, To look upon this lovelier sight. And still as one's enamour'd touch Adown the lapsing ivory fell, The other's eye, entranced as much, Too wildly charm'd, I would have fled— "We pray "If true my counting pulses beat, "It must be now almost the hour "When Love, with visitation sweet, "Descends upon our bloomy bower. "And with him from the sky he brings "Our sister-nymph who dwells above"Oh! never may she haunt these springs "With any other god but Love! "When he illumes her magic urn, "And sheds his own enchantments in it, "Though but a minute's space it burn, ""Tis Heaven to breathe it but a minute! "Not all the purest power we boast, "Nor silken touch, nor vernal dye, "Nor music, when it thrills the most, "Nor balmy cup, nor perfume's sigh, "Such transport to the soul can give, 66 Though felt till time itself shall wither, "As in that one dear moment live, "When Love conducts our sister hither! She ceased-the air respired of bliss- Declared the melting power was nigh! I saw them come-the nymph and boy, While all her sisters languish'd round! A sigh from every bosom broke- |