Ode, Supposed to be Written on the Marriage of a Friend
Thou magic lyre, whose fascinating sound
Seduc'd the savage monsters from their cave,
Drew rocks and trees, and forms uncouth around,
And bade wild Hebrus hush his list'ning wave;
No more thy undulating warblings flow
O'er Thracian wilds of everlasting snow!
Awake to sweeter sounds, thou magic lyre,
And paint a lover's bliss - a lover's pain!
Far nobler triumphs now thy notes inspire, -
For see, Euridice attends thy strain;
Her smile, a prize beyond the conjuror's aim -
Superior to the cancell'd breath of fame.
From her sweet brow to chase the gloom of care,
To check that tear that dims the beaming eye,
To bid her heart the rising sigh forbear,
And flush her orient cheek with brighter joy,
In that dear breast soft sympathy to move,
And touch the springs of rapture and of love!
Ah me! how long bewilder'd and astray,
Lost and benighted, did my footsteps rove,
Till, sent by heav'n to cheer my pathless way,
A star arose - the radiant star of love.
The God propitious join'd our willing hands,
And Hymen wreath'd us in his rosy bands.
Yet not the beaming eye, or placid brow,
Or golden tresses, hid the subtle dart;
To charms superior far than those I bow,
And nobler worth enslaves my vanquish'd heart;
The beauty, elegance, and grace combin'd,
Which beam transcendent from that angel mind;
While vulgar passions - meteors of a day,
Expire before the chilling blasts of age,
Our holy flame, with pure and steady ray,
Its glooms shall brighten, and its pangs assuage;
By Virtue (sacred vestal) fed, shall shine,
And warm our fainting souls with energy divine.