Classic Poem

I.

Y E Dryads fair, whose temples round,
Wave wreaths of odoriferous flow'rs,
Lead me your Sylvan scenes amidst,
Where bloom your rosy-fringed bow'rs.

II.

Nymph of the wave, sweet Naiad hear,
While thy clear warers banks along,
With careless steps, I pleasing stray,
And warble forth my youthful song.

III.

Now the gay rays of orient light,
Bedeck the saffron-mantled morn,
And from Favonius ' balmy wing,
Drops liquid pearl on ev'ry thorn.

IV.

The gilded groves, with verdurs clad,
Reflect bright Phaebus' golden beams,
While his celestial glories flame,
Down the translucent purling streams.

V.

From off each daisy-painted field,
And from the lilly-paved vales,
Zephyr collects a rich perfume,
And scents his soft cosmetic gales;

VI.

Whose honied pinions round dispense,
Hygeia's heav'n-descended store,
Chasing each noxious breath away,
And sweet'ning every fragrant shore.

VII.

Here keeps his court fresh-blushing health ,
His brows with blooming garlands bound;
Here bathes him in fair Schuylkill 's wave,
And sports its hills and lawns around;

VIII.

Two virgins mild his train support,
In snowy spotless robes array'd,
One guides his will to actions pure,
And e'er by one his table's spread ;

IX.

These virgins twain, were ever nam'd,
Sweet Temperance , with eye serene ;
And C HASTITY , whose heav'nly birth,
Was pictur'd in her modest mein.

X.

Still, as Aurora onward moves,
His fleecy flocks the shepherd-swain
Drives from their folds, in jovial glee,
And whitens all the verdant plain.

XI.

The fawns, with nimble-footed speed,
(Fleet as the winged passing gale)
Bound o'er the mountains flow'ry side,
Or sweep the low-descending vale.

XII.

In yonder gay-enamell'd mead,
The starling plumes his golden wings,
Then tow'ring up the azure height,
He mounts sublime, and soaring sings.

XIII.

The yellow finch, and linnet blue,
In mattins wild salute the day,
While their sweet songs, by echo caught,
In double-sounding notes decay.

XIV.

A limpid fountain-gurgling flows,
From 'midst yon ivy-twisted cave ;
And lo ! the lovely Chloe cools
Her limbs in its translucent wave !

XV.

Deep in yon old sequest'red grove,
Where the down-dashing torrents roll,
Ascends on fancy's roving wing,
The rapture-breathing poet's soul !

XVI.

Lo ! foaming o'er the rough cascade,
The lab'ring billows force their way,
Then mingling with the snow-white flood,
In curling eddies onward stray ;

XVII.

While down the smooth-meand'ring stream,
The shining fishes, sportive, glide ;
The perch with silver-glitt'ring scales,
And trout with gold-besprinkled side.

XVIII.

These are your blessings, Sylvan maids —
The sunny hills and shady woods,
Delightful vallies, pleasant plains,
Clear skies, sweet air, and crystal floods —

XIX.

For hills ye have, (tho' lost to same)
That fair as rhymy Hybla show,
And fields that would with Tempe vie,
Streams that might with Pactolus flow.

XX.

Here could I ever, ever rove,
And quit the world's contentious scenes —
What joy, with innocence and truth,
To wrap me in your charming greens ?

XXI.

But fate and fortune adverse call,
And snatch me to the busy throng !
Adieu then, rural sweets, adieu !
And cease, thou dear-deluding song !