XXXVII.
Fair Naiads of the river, that reside
Happy in grottos of rock crystal veined
With shining gems, and loftily sustained
On columns of pure glass! if now ye glide
On duteous errands, or weave side by side
Webs of fine net-work, or in groups remove
To hear and tell romantic tales of love,
Of Genii, Fays, and Tritons of the tide,—
Awhile remit your labours, and upraise
Your rosy heads to look on me—not long
Will it detain you. Sweet'ners of my song!
For pity hear me, watering as I go
With tears your borders, and for such short space,
In heavenly notes sing solace to my woe!