Classic Poem

1.

Pale florets tremble o'er the shadow'd Streams,
Low in the winding, and irriguous Vale,
While blazing, at high noon, the solar beams
Flame on the Mountain top, and fire the gale.
Here then, in silence, thro' the summer's day,
Glide, bright with hope, enamour'd hours away.

2.

For now, my love-devoted Soul, at rest,
Hails all the lonely graces of the scene;
Hails them, in soft, confiding fondness blest,
And leaves ambition to her anxious spleen,
Her pomps, her triumphs unregarded shine,
While fair Emillia's melting heart is mine.

3.

Wou'd I this lock of my Emillia's hair,
That floats in golden threads upon the breeze,
Resign for all ambition's Votaries wear,
For all they pine to see a Rival seize?
No, thou dear pledge of love and hope, that pour
Their precious essence on this rosy hour!

4.

Fate will restore thee, Angel, kind and bright
As Spring's fair Morning on the troubled sea,
That surg'd and toss'd thro' the long, stormy night,
Like my tumultuous heart, when robb'd of thee ;
By thy vain doubts disturb'd, or real fears
Shrouding in shadows dark our future years.

5.

The clouds disperse! — our long disastrous love,
Trembling beneath pale Ruin's hovering wings,
Emerges from their shade! O! may it prove
No meteor-fire, that now before us springs,
But a mild pole-star to the dear Retreat,
Where Peace, and Competence our steps shall meet.

6.

On thee to gaze thro' all the Summer's day!
Hear thy sweet accents cheer the Winter's Eve!
Thro' the soft hours of slumber's darkling sway
Thy balmy breathings on my cheek perceive!
What full reward for all the woes, that shed
Gloom o'er th' impassioned years, irrevocably fled!