Till Hymen brought his love-delighted hour, There dwelt no joy in Eden’s rosy bower! In vain the viewless seraph lingering there, At starry midnight charmed the silent air: In vain the wild bird carolled on the steep, To hail the sun, slow wheeling from the deep; In vain, to soothe, the solitary shade, Aërial notes in mingling measure played; The summer wind that shook the spangled tree, The whispering wave, the murmur of the bee;— Still slowly passed the melancholy day, And still the stranger wist not where to stray. The world was sad!—the garden was a wild! And man, the hermit, sighed—till woman smiled! True, the sad power to generous hearts may bring Delirious anguish on his fiery wing; Barred from delight by Fate’s untimely hand, By wealthless lot, or pitiless command; Or doomed to gaze on beauties that adorn The smile of triumph or the frown of scorn; While Memory watches o’er the sad review, Of joys that faded like the morning dew; Peace may depart—and life and nature seem A barren path, a wildness, and a dream! But can the noble mind for ever brood, The willing victim of a weary mood, On heartless cares that squander life away, And cloud young Genius brightening into day?— Shame to the coward thought that e’er betrayed The noon of manhood to a myrtle shade![21]— If HOPE’S creative spirit cannot raise One trophy sacred to thy future days, Scorn the dull crowd that haunt the gloomy shrine Of hopeless love to murmur and repine! But, should a sigh of milder mood express Thy heart-warm wishes, true to happiness, Should Heaven’s fair harbinger delight to pour Her blissful visions on thy pensive hour, No tear to blot thy memory’s pictured page No fears but such as fancy can assuage; Though thy wild heart some hapless hour may miss The peaceful tenor of unvaried bliss, (For love pursues an ever-devious race, True to the winding lineaments of grace;) Yet still may hope her talisman employ To snatch from Heaven anticipated joy, And all her kindred energies impart That burn the brightest in the purest heart. When first the Rhodian’s mimic art arrayed The queen of Beauty in her Cyprian shade, The happy master mingled on his piece Each look that charmed him in the fair of Greece. To faultless nature true, he stole a grace From every finer form and sweeter face; And as he sojourned on the Ægean isles, Woo’d all their love, and treasured all their smiles; Then glowed the tints, pure, precious, and refined, And mortal charms seemed heavenly when combined Love on the picture smiled! Expression poured Her mingling spirit there—and Greece adored!