Page:The Pleasures of Memory (Rogers).djvu/19

—But when the sons of peace and pleasure sleep,
When only Sorrow wakes, and wakes to weep,
What spells entrance my visionary mind,
With sighs so sweet, with transports so refin'd?
Ethereal Power! whose smile, at noon of night,

 
Recalls the far-fled spirit of delight;
Instils that musing, melancholy mood,
Which charms the wise, and elevates the good;
Blest Memory, hail! Oh grant the grateful Muse,
Her pencil dipt in Nature's living hues,