SONG. MEMORY, hither come, And tune your merry notes; And, while upon the wind Your music floats, I'll pore upon the stream Where sighing lovers dream, I'll drink of the clear stream, And hear the linnet's song; And there I'll lie and dream The day along : And, when night comes, I'll go To places fit for woe; Walking along the darkened valley With silent Melancholy. TO THE MUSES. WHETHER on Ida's shady brow, Whether in Heaven ye wander fair, Or the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air, Where the melodious winds have birth; Whether on crystal rocks ye rove How have you left the ancient love TO THE EVENING STAR. THOU fair-hair'd angel of the Evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Smile on our loves; and whilst thou drawest round On every flower that closes its sweet eyes Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence. TO SPRING. O THOU, with dewy locks, who lookest down The hills do tell each other, and the listening Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour TO SUMMER. O THOU who passest thro' our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard Our bards are famed who strike the silver wire; |