II.—SPENCER.
What forms of grace and glory glided through
The royal palace of thy lofty mind!
Rare shapes of beauty thy sweet fancy drew,
In the brave knights, and peerless dames enshrined
Within thy magic book, The Faerie Queene,
Bright Gloriana robed in dazzling sheen—
Hapless Irene—angelic Una—and
The noble Arthur all before me pass,
As summoned by the enchanter rod and glass.
And glorious still thy pure creations stand,
Leaving their golden footprints on the sand
Of Time indelible! All thanks to thee,
Oh! beauty-breathing bard of Poesy,
That thou hast charmed a weary hour for me.