Come , rapt Enthusiasm, come,
Descend in all thy power,
And leave thy wild aerial home,
To bless thine earthly bower!
She comes, in heav'nly garb array'd,
A musing melancholy maid.
She loves the deep tempestuous roar,
When angry ocean beats the shore;
She loves the wild portentous sky,
When livid lightnings round her fly,
And tho' sometimes her seat she take
Beside the cool translucid lake,
She more delights with Fancy still,
To haunt the overhanging hill,
To see the gathering tempest low'r,
And hear the deep-ton'd thunder roar.
Now o'er a yawning chasm thrown,
Rapt in creation all her own,
Beneath her feet the surges beat,
Above her head the rocks are spread,
And all around is fairy ground,
With Nature's wild luxuriance crown'd:
Hark! with what ecstatic fire,
She strikes the deep resounding lyre:
Wake! all ye pow'rs of earth and air,
Or great, or grand, or wild, or fair!
Wake! winds and waters; vocal be,
And mingle with the melody.
Winds in hollow cadence roaring;
Waves in eddying torrents pouring.
Rocks the angry surges beating,
Echo hoarse the note repeating;
Soft combining sounds assailing,
Moaning, pining, wand'ring, wailing;
Raise the soul to heights refin'd,
And loftier lift th' exalted mind.
On every rock the echo rung,
On every hill the cadence hung;
And universal Nature smiled
On scenes so fair, on notes so wild.
So soft she sung, she smil'd so fair,
So sweetly waved her radiant hair,
The Passions ling'ring on their way
Hung o'er the soft seraphic lay;
Mirth stopt his circle's giddy round,
To listen to the solemn sound;
And Rapture raised her hands on high,
And rolled her eyes in ecstasy.
Enthusiasm can bestow
A heav'nly antidote to woe:
When real ills our peace destroy,
She forms imaginary joy;
When galling chains the body bind,
She boasts the freedom of the mind;
And when (the day of life o'ercast)
Man droops beneath the howling blast,
She bids his sinking spirit spring,
On Fancy's bold and daring wing,
And soar beyond the wheeling pole,
In all the vigour of the soul.
Come then, Enthusiasm, spread,
Thy pinions o'er a suppliant's head,
For I have wander'd in thy bow'r,
And pluck'd each fond inviting flow'r
That pleas'd th' eclectic eye;
Have heard the balmy breezes blow,
Have seen the limpid waters flow,
And felt th' enthusiastic glow
Thy wild retreats supply.
Descend from heaven, celestial guest,
Descend, and fill this votive breast;
These eyes have rolled beneath thy ray,
And cannot bear the sober day;
If Truth I follow, Truth displays
A barren, bleak, bewilder'd maze:
There Virtue groans beneath the rod,
While Vice assumes the sovereign nod;
There Innocence in durance pines,
While Guilt in courts conspicuous shines
Conceal'd from Retribution's eye,
In Power's impervious panoply.
Come then, Enthusiasm, dwell
A heavenly guest with me;
And many a plaintive tale I'll tell,
And song I'll sing to thee.
When morning gilds the eastern skies,
Of thee the strain shall be,
And when the shades of evening rise,
I'll tune my harp to thee.
To thee shall Youth devote her lays,
Till Health and Pleasure flee;
And Age in broken accents raise,
A votive strain to thee.
And when at last the hour shall come,
That sets my spirit free;
With joy I'll leave my earthly home,
And soar to heaven with thee.
Descend in all thy power,
And leave thy wild aerial home,
To bless thine earthly bower!
She comes, in heav'nly garb array'd,
A musing melancholy maid.
She loves the deep tempestuous roar,
When angry ocean beats the shore;
She loves the wild portentous sky,
When livid lightnings round her fly,
And tho' sometimes her seat she take
Beside the cool translucid lake,
She more delights with Fancy still,
To haunt the overhanging hill,
To see the gathering tempest low'r,
And hear the deep-ton'd thunder roar.
Now o'er a yawning chasm thrown,
Rapt in creation all her own,
Beneath her feet the surges beat,
Above her head the rocks are spread,
And all around is fairy ground,
With Nature's wild luxuriance crown'd:
Hark! with what ecstatic fire,
She strikes the deep resounding lyre:
Wake! all ye pow'rs of earth and air,
Or great, or grand, or wild, or fair!
Wake! winds and waters; vocal be,
And mingle with the melody.
Winds in hollow cadence roaring;
Waves in eddying torrents pouring.
Rocks the angry surges beating,
Echo hoarse the note repeating;
Soft combining sounds assailing,
Moaning, pining, wand'ring, wailing;
Raise the soul to heights refin'd,
And loftier lift th' exalted mind.
On every rock the echo rung,
On every hill the cadence hung;
And universal Nature smiled
On scenes so fair, on notes so wild.
So soft she sung, she smil'd so fair,
So sweetly waved her radiant hair,
The Passions ling'ring on their way
Hung o'er the soft seraphic lay;
Mirth stopt his circle's giddy round,
To listen to the solemn sound;
And Rapture raised her hands on high,
And rolled her eyes in ecstasy.
Enthusiasm can bestow
A heav'nly antidote to woe:
When real ills our peace destroy,
She forms imaginary joy;
When galling chains the body bind,
She boasts the freedom of the mind;
And when (the day of life o'ercast)
Man droops beneath the howling blast,
She bids his sinking spirit spring,
On Fancy's bold and daring wing,
And soar beyond the wheeling pole,
In all the vigour of the soul.
Come then, Enthusiasm, spread,
Thy pinions o'er a suppliant's head,
For I have wander'd in thy bow'r,
And pluck'd each fond inviting flow'r
That pleas'd th' eclectic eye;
Have heard the balmy breezes blow,
Have seen the limpid waters flow,
And felt th' enthusiastic glow
Thy wild retreats supply.
Descend from heaven, celestial guest,
Descend, and fill this votive breast;
These eyes have rolled beneath thy ray,
And cannot bear the sober day;
If Truth I follow, Truth displays
A barren, bleak, bewilder'd maze:
There Virtue groans beneath the rod,
While Vice assumes the sovereign nod;
There Innocence in durance pines,
While Guilt in courts conspicuous shines
Conceal'd from Retribution's eye,
In Power's impervious panoply.
Come then, Enthusiasm, dwell
A heavenly guest with me;
And many a plaintive tale I'll tell,
And song I'll sing to thee.
When morning gilds the eastern skies,
Of thee the strain shall be,
And when the shades of evening rise,
I'll tune my harp to thee.
To thee shall Youth devote her lays,
Till Health and Pleasure flee;
And Age in broken accents raise,
A votive strain to thee.
And when at last the hour shall come,
That sets my spirit free;
With joy I'll leave my earthly home,
And soar to heaven with thee.