Serener the wave, as they look'd on it, flow'd, Was taught to the nymphs by their mystical child) Oh, magic of love! unembellish'd by you, Alas! that a vision so happy should fade! That, when morning around me in brilliancy play'd, The rose and the stream I had thought of at night Should still be before me, unfadingly bright; * Mountains of Sicily, upon which Daphnis, the first inventor of bucolic poetry, was nursed by the nymphs. See the lively description of these mountains in DIODORUS SICULUS, lib. iv. Ἡραια γαρ ορῃ κατά την Σικελίαν εσιν, ο φασί καλλει κ. τ. λ. While the friends, who had seem'd to hang over the stream, And to gather the roses, had fled with my dream! But see, through the harbour, in floating array, * A ship, ready to sail for England. 66 LOVE AND REASON. Quand l'homme commence à raisonner, il cesse de sentir." J. J. ROUSSEAU.* "TWAS in the summer-time so sweet, When hearts and flowers are both in season, Love told his dream of yester-night, While Reason talk'd about the weather; The morn, in sooth, was fair and bright, And on they took their way together. The boy in many a gambol flew, While Reason like a Juno stalk'd, And from her portly figure threw No wonder Love, as on they pass'd, For still the shadow Reason cast Fell on the boy, and cool'd him still. * Quoted somewhere in ST. PIERRE'S Études de la Nature. In vain he tried his wings to warın, Would pass between the sun and him! "This must not be," said little Love "The sun was made for more than you. So, turning through a myrtle grove, He bid the portly nymph adieu ! Now gaily roves the laughing boy O'er many a mead, by many a stream; In every breeze inhaling joy, And drinking bliss in every beam. From all the gardens, all the bowers, He cull'd the many sweets they shaded, And ate the fruits and smelt the flowers, But now the sun, in pomp of noon, And fever thrill'd through all his veins ! The dew forsook his baby brow, No more with vivid bloom he smiled— Oh! where was tranquil Reason now, Beneath a green and aged palm, His foot at length for shelter turning, He saw the nymph reclining calm, With brow as cool as his was burning! "Oh! take me to that bosom cold," He felt her bosom's icy touch, And soon it lull'd his pulse to rest; For, ah! the chill was quite too much, And Love expired on Reason's breast! NAY, do not weep, my FANNY dear! The world hath not a wish, a fear, |