In this famed isle, the cloud-capp'd Teneriffe,
Where health abounds and languor finds relief;
In this bright isle, where Julia treads the plain,
What rapture fires the bosom of the swain!
At her approach, the breast untaught to glow,
Like the vast peak, retains eternal snow.
Feels not the first, best ardors of the mind;
Respect and awe, to love and friendship join'd.
When to Laguna's[A] heights she deigns to stray,
To myrtle bowers, and gardens ever gay,
Where spring eternal on the fragrant grove
Breathes the bright scenes of harmony and love;
All eyes, attracted, by her graceful mein
View her, the unrivall'd favorite of the green,
And when, too soon, she would the garden leave,
See Paradise forsaken by its Eve.
[A] An ancient town once the capital. Four miles from the sea.—Freneau's note.
Return bright nymph, attractive as admired,
And be what Plato from your sex required;
Mild as your clime, that rarely knows a storm,
The angelic nature in a female form.
Canary's[B] towns their splendid halls prepare,
But all is dark, when Julia is not there.
Not Oratava, on the sea-beat shore,
In her gay circles finds one Julia more,
Not high Lavelia[C] boasts so sweet a face;
Not Garrachica could yourself replace;
Not old Laguna can supply your loss,
Nor yet the city of the holy-cross.[D]
[B] Canary, a large island south eastward of Teneriffe.—Ibid.
[C] An old city in the mountains.—Ibid.
[D] Santa Cruz, the Capital; on the southeast quarter of the island.—Ibid.
Where love and passion, from the world conceal'd:
Devotion's winter has to frost congeal'd;
Yet beauty, there, adorns the brilliant dome,
Invites her loves, and bids her votaries come;
Fair Santa-Cruz her beauty, too, commands,
And, was but Julia there, unrivall'd stands.
Flush'd with the blessings of the generous vine,
The island bards, to honor you, combine;
The stranger guest, all tongues, when you appear,
Confess you, lovely, charming, all things dear;
Among the rest, accept my homely lay:
The last respect I can to Julia pay:
A different subject soon my verse awaits,
Contending powers, or disunited states;
Yet shall remembrance renovate the past,
And, when you die, your name unfading last:
Though mists obscure, or oceans round me swell,
To the deep seas I go, the world to tell
That Julia, foremost, does this isle engage,
And moves the first, bright Venus of my page.