Whether on Ida's shady brow, 10
Or in the chambers of the East,
The chambers of the sun, that now
From antient melody have ceas'd;
Whether in Heav'n ye wander fair, 5
Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air
Where the melodious winds have birth;
Whether on chrystal rocks ye rove, 9
Beneath the bosom of the sea
Wand'ring in many a coral grove,
Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry!
How have you left the antient love 13
That bards of old enjoy'd in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move!
The sound is forc'd, the notes are few!
Poetical Sketches, p. 18.
12 Poetry] poesie Cunn.13 you] ye Cunn.15 do] now Cunn.
Come, Kings, and listen to my song: 1
When Gwin, the son of Nore,
Over the nations of the North
His cruel sceptre bore;
The Nobles of the land did feed 5
Upon the hungry Poor;
They tear the poor man's lamb, and drive
The needy from their door.
Poetical Sketches, pp. 19-23.
