Page:The Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell (1833).djvu/40

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xxiv
DEDICATORY EPISTLE.

Our humbler annals, and inglorious plain.
Once to these silent woods young Milton came,
(The site, the shade now consecrate to fame)
Time holds not in his hand a more immortal name.
Then was the hour when with exulting spring,
Youth lent to Genius all its fiery wing,
When Fancy roam'd the rich creation free;
A line, a word — was immortality.
In all the wealth of Plato's mind array'd,
When science wooed him in the olive shade,
He came — the friend in converse sweet to cheer,
(Waking the memory of each youthful year,
When, ere the lark had sung, at matin tide,
Building high thoughts, in converse side by side;
Oft by the early shepherd they were seen,
Or old Damœtas on the dewy green)
Sure in that little Tusculum to find
The ripen'd wisdom of a scholar's mind.
The first his young enamour'd feet to lead
By many a flowery rock and haunted mead,
Wet with Castalian dews — each bold design
Urging, till now along the steep divine,
He caught the gleam of Phœbus' golden shrine.
Heard round its gates the hallow'd laurels wave,
And sound of choral fountains warbling in their cave.

Behold! not far remov'd, yon elmy vale;
Whose branching foliage screens the mossy pale;