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THE TRIUMPHS


There was a time, when fortune's bright decrees
Were seen to realize such dreams as these:
Now dangerous visions the fond mind decoy
Vainly to pant for unexisting joy,
While belles and bards with mournful sighs exclaim,
Mortality has seiz'd both Love and Fame.
Ah, fair Serena! might the boast be ours
To clear from such a charge these heavenly powers!
Blest! might thy bard deserve in Fame to see
A guard as faithful as Love proves to thee!
Blest! if that airy being gild his life,
Who sav'd thee trembling on the brink of strife,
And now, kind prompter of thy nightly dream,
Fill'd thy rapt spirit with her sacred beam!
For soon as slumber set thy soul at large,
Thy guardian power revisited her charge;
And, lightly hovering o'er th' illumin'd bed,
Thus with fond smiles of approbation said:
"Well hast thou past, sweet maid! one trying scene,
One fiery ordeal of the tyrant Spleen: