Poems 1817 | Page 5

be?High as the berries of a wild ash tree,?Or as the winged cap of Mercury.?His armour was so dexterously wrought?In shape, that sure no living man had thought?It hard, and heavy steel: but that indeed?It was some glorious form, some splendid weed,?In which a spirit new come from the skies?Might live, and show itself to human eyes.?'Tis the far-fam'd, the brave Sir Gondibert,?Said the good man to Calidore alert;?While the young warrior with a step of grace?Came up,--a courtly smile upon his face,?And mailed hand held out, ready to greet?The large-eyed wonder, and ambitious heat?Of the aspiring boy; who as he led?Those smiling ladies, often turned his head?To admire the visor arched so gracefully?Over a knightly brow; while they went by?The lamps that from the high-roof'd hall were pendent,?And gave the steel a shining quite transcendent.
Soon in a pleasant chamber they are seated;?The sweet-lipp'd ladies have already greeted?All the green leaves that round the window clamber,?To show their purple stars, and bells of amber.?Sir Gondibert has doff'd his shining steel,?Gladdening in the free, and airy feel?Of a light mantle; and while Clerimond?Is looking round about him with a fond,?And placid eye, young Calidore is burning?To hear of knightly deeds, and gallant spurning?Of all unworthiness; and how the strong of arm?Kept off dismay, and terror, and alarm?From lovely woman: while brimful of this,?He gave each damsel's hand so warm a kiss,?And had such manly ardour in his eye,?That each at other look'd half staringly;?And then their features started into smiles?Sweet as blue heavens o'er enchanted isles.
Softly the breezes from the forest came,?Softly they blew aside the taper's flame;?Clear was the song from Philomel's far bower;?Grateful the incense from the lime-tree flower;?Mysterious, wild, the far heard trumpet's tone;?Lovely the moon in ether, all alone:?Sweet too the converse of these happy mortals,?As that of busy spirits when the portals?Are closing in the west; or that soft humming?We hear around when Hesperus is coming.?Sweet be their sleep. * * * * * * * * *
TO SOME LADIES.
What though while the wonders of nature exploring,?I cannot your light, mazy footsteps attend;?Nor listen to accents, that almost adoring,?Bless Cynthia's face, the enthusiast's friend:
Yet over the steep, whence the mountain stream rushes,?With you, kindest friends, in idea I rove;?Mark the clear tumbling crystal, its passionate gushes,?Its spray that the wild flower kindly bedews.
Why linger you so, the wild labyrinth strolling??Why breathless, unable your bliss to declare??Ah! you list to the nightingale's tender condoling,?Responsive to sylphs, in the moon beamy air.
'Tis morn, and the flowers with dew are yet drooping,?I see you are treading the verge of the sea:?And now! ah, I see it--you just now are stooping?To pick up the keep-sake intended for me.
If a cherub, on pinions of silver descending,?Had brought me a gem from the fret-work of heaven;?And smiles, with his star-cheering voice sweetly blending,?The blessings of Tighe had melodiously given;
It had not created a warmer emotion?Than the present, fair nymphs, I was blest with from you, Than the shell, from the bright golden sands of the ocean?Which the emerald waves at your feet gladly threw.
For, indeed, 'tis a sweet and peculiar pleasure,?(And blissful is he who such happiness finds,)?To possess but a span of the hour of leisure,?In elegant, pure, and aerial minds.
ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL, AND A COPY OF VERSES,?FROM THE SAME LADIES.
Hast thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem?Pure as the ice-drop that froze on the mountain??Bright as the humming-bird's green diadem,?When it flutters in sun-beams that shine through a fountain?
Hast thou a goblet for dark sparkling wine??That goblet right heavy, and massy, and gold??And splendidly mark'd with the story divine?Of Armida the fair, and Rinaldo the bold?
Hast thou a steed with a mane richly flowing??Hast thou a sword that thine enemy's smart is??Hast thou a trumpet rich melodies blowing??And wear'st thou the shield of the fam'd Britomartis?
What is it that hangs from thy shoulder, so brave,?Embroidered with many a spring peering flower??Is it a scarf that thy fair lady gave??And hastest thou now to that fair lady's bower?
Ah! courteous Sir Knight, with large joy thou art crown'd;?Full many the glories that brighten thy youth!?I will tell thee my blisses, which richly abound?In magical powers to bless, and to sooth.
On this scroll thou seest written in characters fair?A sun-beamy tale of a wreath, and a chain;?And, warrior, it nurtures the property rare?Of charming my mind from the trammels of pain.
This canopy mark: 'tis the work of a fay;?Beneath its rich shade did King Oberon languish,?When lovely Titania was far, far away,?And cruelly left him to sorrow, and anguish.
There, oft would he bring from his soft sighing lute?Wild strains to which, spell-bound, the nightingales listened; The wondering spirits of heaven were mute,?And tears 'mong the dewdrops of morning oft glistened.
In this little dome, all those melodies strange,?Soft, plaintive, and melting,