Written at Vaucluse in 1776

What melodies the tuneful gale ascend!
What hallow'd Spirits to the Earth have stray'd!
Love swept the chords, and Beauty's Minstrel play'd.
Not his fam'd shell that made the forest bend,
And charm'd the listening herd, when Sorrow's Friend
Met the wild crew, alone, but undismay'd
In virtue's pride, such glowing hands obey'd. —
I see her from the realms of bliss descend —
'Tis Laura's pure and radiant form — her eyes
Have shed upon the lay their precious tear,
Whose consecrating virtue never dies.
Oh Amoret! could I such pearls attain,
(My Theme as constant, and my Hope as vain)
I'd ask no other joy, no brighter sphere.
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