XII.

Pleasure, a frolick nymph, to the glad sound
Came dancing, as all fears she might forget,
And now she gaz'd with a sweet archness round,
And wantonly display'd a silken net:

She won her way with fascinating air—
Her eyes illumin'd with a tender light,
Her smile's strange blandishment, her shaded hair
That length'ning hung, her teeth like ivory white,
That peep'd from her moist lip, seem'd to inspire
Tumultuous wishes warm, and dreams of fond desire.

XIII.

What softer passions did thy bosom move,

When those melodious measures met thine ear,

Child of Sincerity, and virtuous Love?

Thine eyes did shine beneath a blissful tear

That still were turned to the tranquil scene,

Where the thin smoke rose from th' embow'red cot; And thou didst think, that there, with smile serene, In quiet shades, and every pang forgot,

Thou mightest sink on pure Affection's breast, And listen to the winds that whisper'd thee to rest.

XIV.

I thought, "O Love, how seldom art thou found
"Without annoyance in this earthly state!
"For haply thou dost feed some rankling wound,
"Or on thy youth pale poverty doth wait,
""Till years on years heavy are roll'd away;
"Or where thou most didst hope firm faith to see,
"Thou meetest fickleness estrang'd and cold;

"Or if some true and tender heart there be

"On which, thro' every change, thy soul might trust, "Death comes with his fell dart, and smites it to the dust."

XV.

But lusty Enterprize, with looks of glee,

Approach'd the drooping youth, as he would say, "Come to the high woods, and the hills with me, "And cast thy sullen myrtle-wreath away!”

Upon a neighing courser he did sit,

That stretch'd its arched neck, in conscious pride, And champ'd as with disdain its golden bit,

But Hope her animating voice apply'd, And Enterprize with speed impetuous pass'd,

Whilst the long vale return'd his wreathed bugle's blast.

XVI.

Suddenly, lifting high his pond'rous spear,

A mailed man came forth with scornful pride, I saw him tow'ring in his dark career

Along the valley like a giant stride: Upon his helm, in letters of bright gold,

That to the sun's meridian splendour shone, Ambition's name far off I might behold.

Meantime from earth there came a hollow moan: But Fame, who follow'd, her loud trumpet blew, And to the murmuring beach with eyes on flame he flew.

XVII.

And now already had he gain'd the strand,
Where a tall vessel rode with sail unfurl'd,

And soon he thought to reach the farther land,
Which to his eager eye seem'd like a world
That he by strength might win and make his own,
And in that citadel, which shone so bright,
Seat him, a purple sovereign, on his throne.
So he went tilting o'er the waters white,

And whilst he oft look'd back with stern disdain,

In louder tones, methought, was heard the inspiring strain.

XVIII.

"By the shade of cities old,

66 By many a river stain'd with gore, "By the sword of Sesac bold

"Who smote the nations from the shore

"Of ancient Nile to India's farthest plain,

"By Fame's proud pillars, and by Valour's shield,

By mighty chiefs in glorious battle slain,

"Assert thy sway: amid the bloody field

"Pursue thy march, and to the heights sublime "Of Honor's glittering cliffs, a mighty conqueror, climb."

XIX.

Then said I in mine heart, Man, thou dost rear

• Thine eye to Heav'n, and vaunt thy lofty worth: 'The ensign of dominion thou dost bear

'O'er nature's works; but thou dost oft go forth, 'Urg'd by false hopes, to ravage and destroy; 'Thou dost build up a name by cruel deeds, 'Whilst to the peaceful scenes of Love and Joy,

'Sorrow, and Crime, and Solitude, succeeds. 'Hence, when her war-song Victory doth sing, Destruction flaps aloft her iron-hurtling wing?

XX.

But see, as one awak'd from deadly trance,
With hollow and dim eyes and stony stare,
Captivity with faltering step advance!

Dripping and knotted was her coal-black hair:
For she had long been hid, as in the grave;
No sounds the silence of her prison broke,
Nor one companion had she in her cave

Save Terror's dismal shape, that no word spoke, But to a stony coffin on the floor

With lean and hideous finger pointed evermore.

XXI.

The lark's shrill song, the early village chime,
The upland echo of the winding horn,
The far-heard clock that spoke the passing time,
Had never pierc'd her solitude forlorn :
At length releas'd from the deep dungeon's gloom
She feels the fragrance of the vernal gale,

She sees more sweet the living landscape bloom,
And while she listens to Hope's tender tale,

She thinks her long-lost friends shall bless her sight, And almost faints with joy amidst the broad day-light.