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Here Freedom reign’d without the lealt alloy ;
Nor goklip's tale, nor ancient maiden's gull,
Nor faintly Spleen, durft murmur at our joy,
ith envenom'd tongue our pleasures pall.
For why ? there was but one great rule for ali ;
To wit, that each should work his own defire,
And eat, drink, ftudy, fleep, as it may fall.
Or melt the time in love, or wake the lyre,
And, carol what, unbid, the Muses night inspire.
The rooms with collly tapefry were hung,
Where was inwoven many a gentle tale,
Such as of old the rural poets sung,
Or of Arcadian or sicilian vale ;
Reclining lovers, in the lonely dale,
Pour'd forth at large the sweetly-tortur'd heart,
Or, fighing tender paslion, swellid the gale,
And taught charm’d Echo to resound their smart,
While flocks, woods, streams, around, repose and peace
Those pleas’d the most where, by a cunning hand,
Depainted was the Patriarchal age,
What time Dan Abraham left the Chaldee land,
And pallur'd on from verdant stage to stage,
Where fields and fountains fresh could best engage,
Toil was not then. Of nothing took they heed,
But with wild bealts the fylvan war to wagen
And o'er valt plains their herds and flocks to feed :
Bleft fons of Nature they! true Golden Age indeed
nosilci Sometimes the pencil, in cool airy halls,
"slui Bade the gay bloom of vernal landscapes rise, sugo Or autunn's varied shades imbrown she walls : Now the black tempeit frikes the astonishid eyes ; Now down the deep the flashing torrent flies ; The treinbling fun now plays o'er ocean blue, And now rude mountains frown amid the skies : Whate'er Lorrain light-touch'd with focening hue, Or Savage Rosa dall’d, or learned Poullin drew.
Each sound, too, here to languishment inclin'd,
Lull'd the weak bofom, and induced ease :
Aerial music in the warbling wind,
At distance rising oft', by small degrees,
Nearer and nearer caine, till o'er the trees
It hung, and breath'd such foul-dissolving airs
As did, alas ! with soft perdition please :
Entangled deep in its enchanting snares,
The listening heart forgot all duties and all cares.
A certain music, never known before,
Here lulld the pensive melancholy mind;
Full easily obtain’d. Behöves no more,
But fidelong, to the gently-waving wind,
To lay the well-tund instrument reclin’d,
From which, with airy-flying fingers light,
Beyond each mortal touch the moft refin'd,
The god of Winds drew sounds of deep delight,
Whence, with juft cause, the harp of folus it hight.
Ah me ! what hand can touch the string so fine ?
Who up the lofty diapafan roll
Such sweet, such fad, such solemn airs divine,
Then let them down again into the soul ?
Now rising love they fann'd; now pleasing Jole
They breath'd, in tender musings, thro' the heart;
And now a graver sacred Itrain they stole,
As when seraphic hands an hymn-impart ;
Wild-warbling Nature'all, above the reach of Art!!
Such the gay splendour, the luxurious state,
Of Caliphs-old, who on the Tigris' shore,
In mighty Bagdat, populous and great :
Held their bright court, where was of ladies sore:
And verse, love, music, ftill the garland wore :
When Sleep was coy, the bard, in waiting there,
Cheer'd the lone midnight with the Muse's lore,
Composing music bade his dreams be fair,
And music lent new gladness to the morning aire
Near the pavilions where we slept, ftill ran
Soft-tinkling freams, and dafhing waters fell,
And sobbing breezes figh'd, and oft' began
(So work'd the wizard) wintry storms to fwell,
As heaven and earth they would together mell ;
At doors and windows, threat’ning seem’d to call
The demons of the tempeft, growling fell,
Yet the least entrance found they none at all,
Whence sweeter grew our fleep, fecurç in maffy hall.
Andhither Morpheus sent his kindeft dreams;.
Raising a world of gayer tinet and grace,
O'er which was shadowy cast Elyfian gleams,
That play'd, in waving lights, from place to place,
And shed a roseat smile on Nature's face,
Not Titian's pencil e'er could so array,
So fleece with clouds the pure ethereal space ;
Ne could it e'er such melting forms display,
As loose on flowery beds all languishingły lay.
No, fair Illufions! arıful Phantoms, no!
My Mufe will not attempt your Fairy-land:
She has no colours that like you can glow;
To catch your vivid scenes too gross her hand.
But sure it is, was ne'er a subtler band
Than these fame guileful angel-feeming sprights,
Who thus in dreams, voluptuous, foft, and bland,
Pour'd all th’ Arabian heaven upon our nights,
And bless'd them oft besides with more refin’d delighess.
They were in sooth: a most enchanting train,
E'en feigning, virtue ; skilful to unite
With evil good, and strew with pleasure pain;
But for those fiends whom blood and broils delight,
Who hurl the wretch, as if to hell outright,
Down, down-black gulfs, where sullen waters sleep,
Or hold him clambering all the fearful night
On beetling 'cliffs, or pent in ruins deep,
They, till duetime should serve, were bid far hence to keep
Ye guardian Spirits ! to whom man is dear.
From these foul 'demons shield the midnight glooms:
Angels of Fancy and of 'Love! be near
And o'er the blank of sleep diffuse a bloom :
Eyoke the facred shades of Greece and Rome,