LOVE, JOY AND PLEASURE.
135
And Pleasure was gazing with childish glee
At the beacon's trembling gleam,
Or watching the shade of her wings in the sea,
With their colors as varied and fickle as she,
As fleeting as Folly's dream.
At the beacon's trembling gleam,
Or watching the shade of her wings in the sea,
With their colors as varied and fickle as she,
As fleeting as Folly's dream.
And Love was tipping his feathery darts,
And feeding his flaming torch;
He was tinging his wings with the blood of hearts;
He was chanting low numbers, and smiling by starts
At the flowers round Hymen's porch.
And feeding his flaming torch;
He was tinging his wings with the blood of hearts;
He was chanting low numbers, and smiling by starts
At the flowers round Hymen's porch.
Meanwhile the clouds were gath'ring drear,
They hung round the weeping moon,
And still the mariners dreamed not of fear,
Still in Joy's bright eye beamed the brilliant tear,
Which sorrow would claim too soon.
They hung round the weeping moon,
And still the mariners dreamed not of fear,
Still in Joy's bright eye beamed the brilliant tear,
Which sorrow would claim too soon.
The voice of the tempest-god rolled around,
The bark towards heaven was tossed;
Then, then the fond dreamers awoke at the sound,
And Pleasure, the helmsman, in agony found
That the light-house fire was lost.
The bark towards heaven was tossed;
Then, then the fond dreamers awoke at the sound,
And Pleasure, the helmsman, in agony found
That the light-house fire was lost.
Loud and more loud the billows roar,
The ocean no more is gay;
Love dreams of his pinions and arrows no more,
Joy mourns the hour that she left the shore,
And Pleasure's bright wings fade away.
The ocean no more is gay;
Love dreams of his pinions and arrows no more,
Joy mourns the hour that she left the shore,
And Pleasure's bright wings fade away.
