And nourished thee with pity and warm sighs!
Alas! like Love, ungrateful! So, poor elf,
Inebriate with joy, thy giddy wing
Shall, for a time, thy form from flower to flower
Waft; but autumnal dews shall soon benumb
The little feeble heart within thee; soon,
Like the harsh season of adversity,
Night winds and rains shall come, and thou shall dieNo gentle breast to shelter thee again.
Oh! what a throng of similes I wove
For thee, while cradled in that happy place
Thou slept'st supine! Methought that thou wert like
A delicate flower cast on a bank of snow;
Like Cupid nestling in his mother's arms;
Like a fair barque, from winds and waves escaped,
Close harboured in a warm and sheltered creek; -
Like a star beaming from the milky way; —
A monarch on his throne of ivory ;
A jewelled brooch ;-a bright autumnal leaf
Rocked on a limpid wave; a humming-bird
Perched on the blossom of the orange-tree ; -
Or fairy sprite, ethereal Oberon,
Sleeping within a lily's stainless cup;
Or, dearer still, as famous poets feign,
A Psyche, in her emblematic dress
Of life, and joy, and immortality,
Harmlessly dreaming near her wedded love.
Nor these alone-but thou art fled; and I,
Ingrate! have chattered more than thou art worth.