And, like an odorous plant, whose blushing flow'r
Paints every dale, and sweetens every bow'r,
Borne to the skies in clouds of soft perfume
For ever flourish, and for ever bloom!
These grateful songs, ye maids and youths, renew,
While fresh-blown violets drink the pearly dew;
O'er Azib's banks while love-lorn damsels rove,
And gales of fragrance breathe from Hagar's grove.
So sung the youth, whose sweetly-warbled strains Fair Mena heard, and Saba's spicy plains. Sooth'd with his lay, the ravish'd air was calm, The winds scarce whisper'd o'er the waving palm; The camels bounded o'er the flowery lawn, Like the swift ostrich, or the sportful fawn; Their silken bands the listening rose-buds rent, And twin'd their blossoms round his vocal tent: He sung, till on the bank the moonlight slept, And closing flowers beneath the night-dew wept; Then ceas'd, and slumber'd in the lap of rest Till the shrill lark had left his low-built nest. Now hastes the swain to tune his rapturous tales In other meadows, and in other vales.
MILD was the vernal gale, and calm the day,
When Maia near a crystal fountain lay:
Young Maia, fairest of the blue-eyed maids,
That rov'd at noon in Tibet's musky shades;
But, haply, wandering through the fields of air,
Some fiend had whisper'd-Maia, thou art fair!
Hence swelling pride had fill'd her simple breast,
And rising passions rob'd her mind of rest;
In courts and glittering towers she wish'd to dwell,
And scorn'd her labouring parents lowly cell.
And now, as gazing o'er the glassy stream,
She saw her blooming cheek's reflected beam,
Her tresses brighter than the morning sky,
And the mild radiance of her sparkling eye,
Low sighs and trickling tears by turns she stole
And thus discharg'd the anguish of her soul:
'Why glow those cheeks, if unadmir'd they glow? Why flow those tresses, if unprais'd they flow? Why dart those eyes their liquid ray serene, Unfelt their influence, and their light unseen? Ye heav'ns! was that love-breathing bosom made To warm dull groves, and cheer the lonely glade ? Ah, no: those blushes, that enchanting face, Some tap'stried hall, or gilded bower, might grace; Might deck the scenes, where love and pleasure reign, And fire with amorous flames the youthful train.'
While thus she spoke, a sudden blaze of light
Shot through the clouds, and struck her dazzled sight.
She rais'd her head, astonish'd, to the skies,
And veil'd with trembling hands her aching eyes;
When through the yielding air she saw from far
A goddess gliding in a golden car,
That soon descended on the flowery lawn,
By two fair yokes of starry peacocks drawn:
A thousand nymphs with many a sprightly glance
Form'd round the radiant wheels an airy dance,
Celestial shapes! in fluid light array'd;
Like twinkling stars their beamy sandals play'd,
Their lucid mantles glitter'd in the sun,
(Webs half so bright the silk-worm never spun)
Transparent robes, that bore the rainbow's hue,
And finer than the nets of pearly dew,
That morning spreads o'er every opening flow'r,
When sportive summer decks his bridal bow'r.
The queen herself, too fair for mortal sight,
Sat in the centre of encircling light.
Soon with soft touch she rais'd the trembling maid,
And by her side in silent slumber laid:
Straight the gay birds display'd their spangled train,
And flew refulgent through th' aerial plain;
The fairy band their shining pinions spread,
And, as they rose, fresh gales of sweetness shed;
Fan'd with their flowing skirts, the sky was mild;
And heaven's blue fields with brighter radiance smil’d.
Now in a garden deck'd with verdant bow'rs
The glittering car descends on bending flow'rs:
The goddess still with looks divinely fair
Surveys the sleeping object of her care;
Then o'er her cheek her magic finger lays,
Soft as the gale that o'er a violet plays,
And thus in sounds, that favour'd mortals hear,
She gently whispers in her ravish'd ear.
Awake, sweet maid, and view this charming scene, For ever beauteous, and for ever green;
Here living rills of purest nectar flow
O'er meads that with unfading flow'rets glow;
Here amorous gales their scented wings display,
Mov'd by the breath of ever-blooming May;
Here in the lap of pleasure shalt thou rest,
Our lov'd companion, and our honour'd guest.'
The damsel hears the heav'nly notes distil,
Like melting snow, or like a vernal rill.
She lifts her head, and, on her arm reclin❜d,
Drinks the sweet accents in her grateful mind:
On all around she turns her roving eyes,
And views the splendid scene with glad surprize;
Fresh lawns, and sunny banks, and roseate bow'rs,
Hills white with flocks, and meadows gem'd with
flow'rs;
Cool shades, a sure defence from summer's ray,
And silver brooks, (where wanton damsels play),
Which with soft notes their dimpled crystal roll'd
O'er colour'd shells, and sand of native gold;
A rising fountain play'd from every stream,
Smil'd as it rose, and cast a transient gleam,
Then, gently falling in a vocal show'r,
Bath'd every shrub, and sprinkled every flow'r,
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