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Circling through pendant cliffs, and watery dales.
The russet hills, the valleys green beneath,

The fallows brown, and dusky heath,
The yellow corn, empurpled vine,
In union soft their tints combine,
And, Fancy, all engage thine eye

With a sweet variety.
While clouds the fleeting clouds pursue,
In mutual shade, and mutual light,
The changing landscape meets the sight;

'Till the ken no more can view,
And heaven appears to meet the ground;
The rising lands, and azure distance drown'd
Amid the gay horizon's golden bound.

Such are the scenes that oft invite
To feed thee, Fancy, with delight.

All that nature can create,
Beauteous, aweful, new and great,
Sweet enthusiast, is thy treasure,
Source of wonder, and of pleasure;
Every sense to transport winning,

Still unbounded and beginning.
Then, Fancy, spread thy wings again;
Unlock the caverns of the main.
Above, beneath, and all around,

Let the tumbling billows spread,

'Till the coral floor we tread, Exploring all the wealth that decks the realms pro

found;

There, gather gems that long have glow'd

In the vast, unknown abode,
The jasper vein'd, the sapphire blue,
The ruby bright with crimson hue,
Whate'er the bed resplendent paves,

Or decks the glittering roofs on high,
Through whose translucent arch are seen the rolling

waves.

Fancy, these shall clasp thy vest,
With these thy lovely brows be drest,
In every gay, and various dye.
But hark!-the seas begin to roar,
The whistling winds assault my ear,
The louring storms around appear

Fancy, bear me to the shore.
There in thy realms, bright goddess, deign
Secure to fix thy votary's feet :

O give to follow oft thy train,
Still with accustom'd lay thy power to greet;
To dwell with Peace, and sport with thee,

Fancy, ever fair and free.

ODE XIV.

TO

FANCY.

BY WILLIAM HAMILTON, ESQ.

Of BANGOUR.

FANCY, bright and winged Maid I In thy night-drawn car convey's, O'er the green earth and wide-spread main, A thousand shadows in thy train, A vary'd air-embody'd host, To don what shapes thou pleasest most; Brandish no more thy scorpion stings Around the destin'd couch of kings; Nor in rebellion's ghastly size A dire gigantic spectre rise : Cease, for a while, in rooms of state To damp the slumbers of the Great ; In Merit's lean-look'd form t'appear, And hollow Traitor in their ear: Or Freedom's holier garb bely, While Justice grinds.her axe fast by: Nor o'er the Miser's eye-lids pour The unrefreshing golden show'r;

Whil'st, keen th' un-real bliss to feel,
His breast bedews the ruffian-steel.

With these (when next thou tak'st thy round) The thoughts of guilty Pride confound : These swell the horrors and affright Of Conscience'keen-condemning night. For this (nor, gracious Pow'r! repine) A gentler Ministry be thine : Whate'er inspires the poet's theme, Or Lover's hope-enliven'd dream. MONIMIA's mildest form assume ; Spread o'er thy cheeks her youthful bloom; Unfold her eyes unblemish'd rays, That melt to Virtue as we gaze; That Envy's guiltiest wish disarm, And view benign a kindred-charm : Call all the Graces from thy store, Till thy creative pow'r be o’er; Bid her each breathing sweet dispense, And robe in her own innocence.

My wish is giv’n : the spells begin ;
The ideal world awakes within ;
The lonely void of still repose
Pregnant with some new wonder grows :
See, by the twilight of the skies,
The beauteous apparition rise ;
Slow, in MONIMIA's form, along
Glides to the harmony of song.

But who is he the Virgin leads,
Whom high a flaming torch precedes,
In a gown of stainless lawn,
O'er each manly shoulder drawn?
Who, clad in robe of scarlet grain,
The Boy that bears her flowing train ?
Behind his back a quiver hung,
A bended bow across is fung;
His head and heels two wings unfold,
The azure feathers girt with gold.
Hymen! 'tis he who kind inspires
Joys unfeign’d and chaste desires.
And thou, of Love deceitful child!
With tyger-heart, yet lamb-like mild,
Fantastic by thyself, and vain,
But seemly seen in Hymen's train ;
If Fate be to my wishes kind,
O! may I find ye ever join'd;
But if the Fates my wish deny,
My humble roof come ye not nigh.

The spell works on: yet stop the day While in the house of sleep I stay. About me swells the sudden grove, The wov'n arbourette of Love; Flow’rs spring unbidden o'er the ground, And more then Nature plants around. Fancy, prolong the kind repose; Still, still th' enchanting vision glows;

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