ROMANCE! I know thee now, I know the terrors of thy brow; I know thine aweful mien, thy beaming eye; And lo! whilst mists arise around Yon car that cleaves the pregnant ground! Two fiery dragons whirl her through the sky; Her milder sister loves to rove Amid Parnassus' laurell'd grove, On Helicon's harmonious side, To mark the gurgling streamlet glide; Meantime, thro' wilder scenes and sterner skies, From clime to clime the ardent genius flies. She speeds to yonder shore,[1] Where ruthless tempests roar, Where sturdy winter holds his northern reign, Nor vernal suns relax the ice-pil'd plain: Dim shadows circle round her secret seat, Where wandering, who approach shall hear The wild wolf rend the air; Thro' the cloudy-mantled sky Shall see the imps of darkness fly, And hear the sad scream from the grim retreat; Around her throne Ten thousand dangers lurk, most fearful, most unknown. Yet lovelier oft in milder sway, She wends abroad her magic way; The holy prelate owns her power; In soft'ning tale relates The snowy Ethiop's matchless charms, The outlaw's den, the clang of arms, And love's too-varying fates; The storms of persecution lower, Austere devotion gives the stern command, "Commit yon impious legend to the fires;"-- Calm in his conscious worth, the sage retires, And saves the invalu'd work, and quits the thankless land; High tow'rs his name the sacred list above, And ev'n the priest[2] is prais'd who wrote of blameless love. Around the tower, whose wall infolds Young THORA's blooming charms, Romance's serpent winds his glittering folds; The warrior clasps his shaggy arms, The monster falls, the damsel is the spoil, Matchless reward of REGNER's[3] matchless toil. Around the patriot board, The knights[4] attend their lord; The martial sieges hov'ring o'er, Enrapt the genius views the dauntless band; Still prompt for innocence to fight, Or quell the pride of proud oppression's might, They rush intrepid o'er the land; She gives them to the minstrel lore, Hands down her LAUNCELOT's peerless name, Repays her TRISTRAM's woes with fame; Borne on the breath of song, To future times descends the memory of the throng.