Classic Poem

Favoured by Heaven are those, ordained to taste
The bliss supreme that kindles fancy's fire;
Whose magic fingers sweep the muse's lyre
In varying cadence, eloquently chaste!
Well may the mind, with tuneful numbers graced,
To fame's immortal attributes aspire,
Above the treacherous spells of low desire
That wound the sense, by vulgar joys debased.
For thou, blest Poesy, with godlike powers
To calm the miseries of man, wert given;
When passion rends, and hopeless love devours,
By memory goaded and by frenzy driven,
'Tis thine to guide him midst Elysian bowers
And show his fainting soul—a glimpse of Heaven.