Classic Poem

O LEAD me at the Close of Day,
To view the ruby Orb of Fire,
Beneath Night's Canopy retire,
As down the West he speeds away: —
To gaze upon the Clouds of Gold,
O'er amber Ev'ning's Beauties roll'd,
In visionary Forms sublime;
Where mingled with the dappled Skies,
The crimson Blushes proudly rise,
To meliorate DEPARTING TIME

Now C YNTHIA throws her spangled Dew,
O'er Night's enchanting sabling Hue,

And bids the Stars their Glories hide;
While in her Beams are seen to sport,
The tiny Fairies of her Court,
In all their variegated Pride: —
There Fancy thou art known to reign,
Light rob'd among the mystic Train:
Transparent Gossimer doth veil
Thy Graces from the tepid Gale;
And round thy Brows the Ariels twine,
A filmy Wreath of Pow'r divine: —
Then, as the little Moon glides down,

And deeper Shadows dim the Light;
The bashful Stars, a radiant Crown,
Weave for the sable Queen of Night :
While Fancy , thou art seen to stray,
Through the bright constellated Way.

Alike, when rosy-finger'd Morn
Her Glories on the Twilight flings;
The lovely Cherubs of the Dawn,
Wanton on their purple Wings:

And see, the flaky Mists arise,
In spiral Columns to the Skies;
While vestal Health with Joy elate,
Stands tip-toe on the golden Gate,
Where fair Aurora leads the Hours
To carol through their sunny Bow'rs;
There Fancy , with imperial Gaze,
Adores Apollo's radiant Blaze;
And, with a conscious Bliss, impearls
Her sparkling Diamonds in his golden Curls.

Yes, central Nymph, thou too art seen
To hie across the russet Green;
O'er bending Grass and ripen'd Corn,
Gay with the Freshness of the Morn.
I've mark'd Thee loiter down the Glade,
In search of Love's romantic Maid;
Whom disappointed Passion drove,
To seek the Woodbine's shelter'd Grove:
Fancy , 'tis thine, with brilliant Fire,
To sweep the Muse's trilling Lyre;

From Thee , the sweet Ideas spring,
Which I DA'S Nymphs are heard to sing;
'Tis thine, to bid their Fervors roll,
With melting Transport to the Soul: —
O Fancy , could thy Strains divine
Impress the Minstrel's chary Line;
I'd crown Thee with such lustrous Rays,
Should rival e'en the G OD of DAY 's proud Blaze!