Melody I. the Education of the Muse

'Thy infant form, thou rosy fay, 'May Beauty with each brighter charm array, 'Thy mind each Virtue tend: 'O fair! O holy! Lo my heavenly place 'I leave thy blessed birth to grace, 'These airs of joy to lend.' So Harmony attuned her lyre What day the lovely Muse was born; So Harmony attuned her lyre, So hailed the long expected morn.

The rose that to the summer ray But half her blushing beauties dares display, So sweetly never smiled; The jocund Spring, when from her fragrant bed She comes the genial Hours to lead, As Fancy's sacred child; When now the happy hand of Time Gave every rising grace to view; The port of majesty sublime, Of love the eye, the crimson hue.

The mountain's front to tread, With solitary step to dally Thro' each wild and haunted valley, Thro' each grove of sable shade, Were her delights. There by some stream She gathered flowers of every beam The flowing honours of her head to crown; Or, on a velvet bank at ease reclined, She caught the notes that by the vernal wind Were from the wood in floating measures blown.

Taught by the warbling race of air, Her voice she tuned in sweetest descant clear, And new born ditties tried: With these the blessed the swains her early care; And Echo soon each willing fair, And scornful maid replied; All fears that chill, and hopes that fire The bosom of the faithful youth; The stolen treasures of desire, The ardent vow of endless truth.

O happy age! when known no toil Save to obtain some haughty damsel's smile; And feed the fleecy flock. The fruits a feast of sprightly relish gave, With beverage from the orient wave And honey from the rock. O happy age! when shapes of light, Now shewn but to the mental eye, To dwell with man their radiant flight Would hasten from the friendly sky.

The mind untaught in vain, Her powers tho' blooming vigor nourish, Hopes in perfect pride to flourish: Culture must her might maintain. Soft and more soft ye breezes blow, More soft ye billows rise, for, lo! The tuneful Vision stems the azure tide: To Pleasure's Isle her destined course she bends, Her parent Fancy at the helm attends, And Harmony's smooth chimes each wild wind chide.

Now in her golden cradle lies The infant Morn amid the varied dyes Of every dewy flower; The lowly violet, the sovereign rose Around their mingled tints disclose, Their mingled fragrance pour; With purple lustre glows the deep Resplendent to the orient ray: The comely band their progress keep Exulting thro' the watry way.

The Gales their gentle aid applied, Along the tide the painted galley hied, That spred a shining plain: And soon, emergent from the western skies, They saw the verdant groves arise That crowned the gay domain. A cloud of breathing incense sweet To slumber soothed the ambient main: The merry mariners to meet Shone on the strand a wanton train.

To Pleasure's dome they came. With gold emblazoned and vermilion Beamed abroad the bright pavilion To the sun's meridian flame. There on a couch with fragrance spread The Queen and young Desire were laid, Desire her mate and chosen solace dear: The Smiles and decent Graces stood around The sovereign pair with perfect beauty crowned, With every gift of Love and laughing Chear.

But chief the heavenly Fair excelled; The Muse with wondering gaze her state beheld And thoughts of fond delight; Her blooming shape revealed in loose attire, Her azure eyes of amorous fire, Her locks of golden light. The Empress with a winning smile To greet the welcome guests arose: 'Be yours whate'er my hallowed isle 'To Art or lavish Nature owes.'

Tho' he of Thebes informed thy frame Small praise, O lyre, his richest skill could claim To paint that fairy scene: Where native May eternal empire held O'er hill and shade and florid field And balmy sky serene; Where, rising slow with rapturous swell, Aerial strains were heard to stray; Like notes that from a master shell In distant echoes spread away.

Here long the enamoured maid, All lost in dreams of dear delusion, Thro' the beauteous profusion Led by bright eyed Rapture played. Exploring now the lawn's amel, Now happy groves of odorous smell, Now gardens trim with blooming fruits o'ergrown, And tuneful streams that living crystal flowed, And sunny hills with purple vines that glowed, Elysian bowers, and cells grotesque and lone.

Nor barren of meet progeny: For Youth there dwelt, and fair Felicity, And Health that sprightly maid; For Feast rejoiced amid the vines to rove, And Ease approved the still alcove, And Love the secret shade; O vanity of earthly joy! How early lost that better soil! When Justice sought her former sky The deeps involved the magic isle!

And now the charms of fair design And elegance the Goddess can combine With sweet simplicity: Her strains declared the cultivated mind, Awake to every bliss refined, Of grace and harmony. Yet wanted to complete her skill Like science of the realm of woe: The sadder sympathy to feel, The sager sentiment to know.

Ye blest abodes adieu! For now again the liquid azure With bold prow the pilgrims measure Seats of other clime to view. Bright be thy course thou star of eve, With purest splendor gild the wave, That trembles yet with gleams of fading day; Till slowly peering from her eastern bed, The perfect moon exalt her blessed head, And crown the level deep with silver ray.

From mirth to sadness brief the road, And easy. Ere the blush of morning glowed They met the gloomy ground. Deep silence lulled each visionary vale, Save where the warbling nightingale Her hidden recess found. Even from the solar blaze the land Was dim with night of boundless woods, That sleeped along the lonely strand And murmured o'er the sable floods.

Obscure amid a winding glade, Where darkest pines their chilling horrors spred, Arose a rocky cave; There Melancholy's modest form was seen, The pensive eye disclosed the Queen, And sad demeanour grave. With her was Wisdom reverend sage; His awful front, his snowy hair, Expressed him of the train of Age, And versant in the storms of Care.

Of science much and truth He spoke, the flowery paths of error That to snares of toil and terror Lead the hapless soul they sooth: And oft their solemn talk between, A tale of tears would intervene.— Oh heavenly Virgin what delights were thine! Now potent to controul the wondering heart By every sympathy of magic Art, By Nature's force, and Reason's light divine.