AN ADDRESS TO THE VOTARIES OF POESY.
By James De-La-Cour.
(Continued.)
Hence to the garden should your fancy fly,
Let the tall tulip with your Iris vie;
With a mixt glory crown its radiant head,
The brightest yellow, ting’d with streams of red:
Next let the lilly in your numbers blow,
And o’er its sweetness shake the downy snow;
In the white garb of Virtue let it rise,
And wave in verse before the Virgin’s eyes:
On tuneful feet let languid ivy crawl,
And in poetic measure scale the wall,
While the sharp sheers return a clipping sound,
And the green leaves fall quiv’ring to the ground.
Here in the bow’r of beauty newly shorn,
Let Fancy sit, and sing how Love was born;
Wrapt up in roses, Zephyr found the child,
In Flora’s cheek when first the goddess smil’d;
Nurs’d on the bosom of the beauteous spring,
O’er her white breast he spread his purple wing,
On kisses fed, and silver drops of dew,
The little wanton into Cupid grew;
Then arm’d his hand with glitt’ring sparks of fire,
And tipt his shining arrows with desire:
Hence joy arose upon the wings of wind,
And hope presents the lover always kind;
Despair creates a rival for our fears,
And tender pity softens into tears.
Your sounds in softer notes must learn to more,
And melting music rise the voice of Love!
Let Fubal’s lute in skilful hands appear,
And pour new numbers on the list’ning ear;
With the full organ let them sweetly swell,
With the loud trumpet languishingly shrill;
Or in soft concord let the concert suit,
The sprightly clarion with the Dorian flute:
Then wake to vocal airs the warbling wire,
Let the strings run beneath the poet’s fire;
While sorrow sighs, ah! never let them cool,
But melt melodious on the soften’d soul:
So may the passions wait upon your hand,
Move as you move, and act as you command:
I’ve laid down precepts, to guide your vocal strains,
Resume your lays, for hark, the Muse complains.