To Mr. L-----

From Wikisource

Jump to: navigation, search

To Mr. L----- by Ann Eliza Bleecker
from The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker

The sun that gilds the western sky

And makes the orient red,

Whose gladsome rays delight the eye

And cheer the lonely shade,

Withdraws his vegetative heat,

To southern climes retires;

While absent, we supply his seat

With gross, material fires.

'Tis new-year's morn; each rustic swain

Ambrosial cordials take;

And round the fire the festive train

A semi-circle make:

While clouds ascend, of sable smoke,

From pipes of ebon hue,

With inharmonick song and joke

They pass the morning through.

You tell me this is solitude,

This Contemplation's seat;

Ah no! the most impervious wood

Affords me no retreat.

But let me recollect: 'tis said,

When Orpheus tun'd his lyre

The Fauns and Satyrs left the shade,

Warm'd by celestial fire.

His vocal lays and lyra made

Inanimated marble weep;

Swift-footed Time then paus'd, 'tis said,

And sea-born monsters left the deep:

Impatient trees, to hear his strain

Rent from the ground their roots?---

Such is my fate, as his was then,

Surrounded here---by brutes.

This work published before January 1, 1923 is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.