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FLORA’S LEXICON.
ZALEA, INDIAN. Azalea Indica. Class Pent-Decandria. Order: Monogynia. A very splendid species of Azalea, with large and rich scarlet flowers, chosen, on account of the gorgeous splendour of its flowers, as the suitable emblem of Romance.
ROMANCE.
The pipe, and song, with many a mingled shout,
Ring through the forest, as the Satyr-rout
Dance round the dragon-chariot of Romance:
Forth pricks the Errant Knight with rested lance:
Imps, Demons, Fays, in antic train succeed,
The wand’ring maiden, and the winged steed!
The muttering Wizard turns, with haggard look,
The bloody leaves of the accursed book,
Whilst Giants, from the gloomy castle-tow’r,
With lifted Bats of steel, more dreadful low’r!
Hence, at midnight, thou shalt stray,
Where dark Ocean flings its spray,
To hear o’er Heav’n’s resounding arch
The Thunder-Lord begin his march!
Or mark the flashes, that present
Some far-off shatter’d monument;
Whilst along the rocky vale,
Red fires, mingled with the hail,
Run along upon the ground,
And the thunders deeper sound!
The loftier Muse, with awful mien,
Upon a lonely rock is seen!
Full is the eye that speaks the dauntless soul;
She seems to hear the gathering tempest roll
Beneath her feet: She bids an eagle fly,
Breasting the whirlwind, through the dark-red sky!
Or, with elated look, lifts high the spear,
As sounds of distant battles roll more near.
Ring through the forest, as the Satyr-rout
Dance round the dragon-chariot of Romance:
Forth pricks the Errant Knight with rested lance:
Imps, Demons, Fays, in antic train succeed,
The wand’ring maiden, and the winged steed!
The muttering Wizard turns, with haggard look,
The bloody leaves of the accursed book,
Whilst Giants, from the gloomy castle-tow’r,
With lifted Bats of steel, more dreadful low’r!
Hence, at midnight, thou shalt stray,
Where dark Ocean flings its spray,
To hear o’er Heav’n’s resounding arch
The Thunder-Lord begin his march!
Or mark the flashes, that present
Some far-off shatter’d monument;
Whilst along the rocky vale,
Red fires, mingled with the hail,
Run along upon the ground,
And the thunders deeper sound!
The loftier Muse, with awful mien,
Upon a lonely rock is seen!
Full is the eye that speaks the dauntless soul;
She seems to hear the gathering tempest roll
Beneath her feet: She bids an eagle fly,
Breasting the whirlwind, through the dark-red sky!
Or, with elated look, lifts high the spear,
As sounds of distant battles roll more near.
Bowles.
