Imitation Of Spenser


    Now Morning from her orient chamber came,
    And her first footsteps touch'd a verdant hill;
    Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame,
    Silv'ring the untainted gushes of its rill;
    Which, pure from mossy beds, did down distill,
    And after parting beds of simple flowers,
    By many streams a little lake did fill,
    Which round its marge reflected woven bowers,
    And, in its middle space, a sky that never lowers.

    There the king-fisher saw his plumage bright
    Vieing with fish of brilliant dye below;
    Whose silken fins, and golden scales' light
    Cast upward, through the waves, a ruby glow:
    There saw the swan his neck of arched snow,
    And oar'd himself along with majesty;
    Sparkled his jetty eyes; his feet did show
    Beneath the waves like Afric's ebony,
    And on his back a fay reclined voluptuously.

    Ah! could I tell the wonders of an isle
    That in that fairest lake had placed been,
    I could e'en Dido of her grief beguile;
    Or rob from aged Lear his bitter teen:
    For sure so fair a place was never seen,
    Of all that ever charm'd romantic eye:
    It seem'd an emerald in the silver sheen
    Of the bright waters; or as when on high,
    Through clouds of fleecy white, laughs the c¬úrulean sky.

    And all around it dipp'd luxuriously
    Slopings of verdure through the glossy tide,
    Which, as it were in gentle amity,
    Rippled delighted up the flowery side;
    As if to glean the ruddy tears, it tried,
    Which fell profusely from the rose-tree stem!
    Haply it was the workings of its pride,
    In strife to throw upon the shore a gem
    Outviewing all the buds in Flora's diadem.


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