Page:Felicia Hemans in the New Monthly Magazine Volume 11 1824.pdf/9



ye come forth, amidst the leaves and flowers With all bright things that wake to sunny hours, O youths and virgins of the sylvan vales! And doth the soft wind of the summer air, Sport with the ringlets of your shining hair? —I too have breath'd Arcadia's joyous gales!

Bear ye fresh wreaths some turf-built shrine to dress, Some wood-nymph's altar of the wilderness, Deep midst the hoary pines and olives dim? Go! on your way all flowery perfumes flinging, And your full chaunt along the forest singing! —My voice once mingled in Arcadia's hymn!

Haply the woods in golden light are glowing, And the vine-branches with their clusters bowing, And the hills ringing unto flute and song! Press the red grape! the ivy garland wear, Dance in your vineyards!—I too have been there, I, midst Arcadia's fair and festive throng!

If this were all!—but there are other hours Than those which pour out sunshine on the bowers, And weigh the rich trees down with summer's pride! Dance, dance ye on!—but I have seen decay, Steal, as a shadow, o'er the laughing day— —Even in Arcadia's lap a rose hath died!F. H.