CAROLINE. From some green Eden of the deep, Where Pleasure's sigh alone is heaved, Where tears of rapture lovers weep, Endear'd, undoubting, undeceived: From some sweet paradise afar, Thy music wanders, distant, lostWhere Nature lights her leading star, And love is never, never cross'd. Oh gentle gale of Eden bowers, If back thy rosy feet should roam, To revel with the cloudless Hours In Nature's more propitious home, Name to thy loved Elysian groves, PART II. TO THE EVENING STAR. Gem of the crimson-colour'd even, So fair thy pensile beauty burns, So due thy plighted love returns, To chambers brighter than the rose : CAROLINE. To Peace, to Pleasure, and to Love, So kind a star thou seem'st to be, Sure some enamour'd orb above Descends and burns to meet with thee. Thine is the breathing, blushing hour, O! sacred to the fall of day, And early rise, and long delay, Shine on her chosen green resort, Whose trees the sunward summit crown, And wanton flowers, that well may court An angel's feet to tread them down. Shine on her sweetly-scented road, Thou star of evening's purple dome, That lead'st the nightingale abroad, And guid'st the pilgrim to his home. Shine where my charmer's sweeter breath Where dying winds a sigh bequeath Where, winnow'd by the gentle air, Her silken tresses darkly flow, And fall upon her brow so fair, Like shadows on the mountain snow. CAROLINE. Thus, ever thus, at day's decline, And thou shalt be my ruling star! LOVE'S APOLOGY. Thomas Campbell. I. He meets, by heavenly chance express, Which others cannot understand. To match the promise in her eyes; For love of her he cannot sleep; Her beauty haunts him all the night; Most humbled when he most aspires,— From her he honours and desires. Her graces make him rich, and ask No guerdon; this imperial style Affronts him; he disdains to bask The pensioner of her priceless smile. He prays for some hard thing to do, Some work of fame and labour immense, To stretch the languid bulk and thew Of Love's fresh-born magnipotence. No smallest boon were bought too dear, Tho' barter'd for his love-sick life; Yet trusts he, with undaunted cheer, To vanquish heaven, and call her wife. How, self-consign'd with lavish will, LOVE'S APOLOGY. How valour, clothed in courtesies, The fiercer fight, the fairer she; Hope, desperate grown, feigns certainty. Ah, whither shall a maiden flee, When a bold youth so swift pursues, And siege of tenderest courtesy, With hope perseverant, still renews? Ah, wherefore flee? Her simple breast Thanks him who finds her fair and good; She loves her fears, veil'd joys arrest The foolish terrors of her blood; By secret sweet degrees her heart, Vanquish'd, takes warmth from his desire; She makes it more, with bashful art, And basks at Love's late dreaded fire. Against its blithe obtrusion press'd! But soon his victory he divines : He tells her what his feelings are; And, lo! her love, unveiling, shines As steady as a tropic star. II. Most rare is still most noble found, Most noble, still most incomplete : Sad law, which leaves King Love uncrown'd In this obscure terrestrial seat! |