22
THE INVITATION.
While others,—consecrate to higher aims,
Whose hallowed bosoms glow with purer flames,
Love in their heart, persuasion in their tongue,—
With words of peace shall charm the listening throng.
Draw the dread veil that wraps the' eternal throne,
And launch our souls into the bright unknown.
Here cease my song. Such arduous themes require
A master's pencil and a poet's fire:
Unequal far such bright designs to paint,
Too weak her colours, and her lines too faint,
My drooping Muse folds up her fluttering wing,
And hides her head in the green lap of Spring.
