Page:The Pleasures of Memory (Rogers).djvu/42


 * Hence away, nor dare intrude!
 * In this secret, shadowy cell
 * Musing loves to dwell,
 * With her sister Solitude.
 * Far from the busy world she flies,
 * To taste that peace the world denies.
 * Entranc'd she sits; from youth to age,
 * Reviewing Life's eventful page;
 * And noting, ere they fade away,
 * The little lines of yesterday.
 * had gain'd a rude and rocky seat,

When lo, the Genius of this still retreat! Fair was her form—but who can hope to trace The pensive softness of her angel-face? Can verse, can  touch impart Those finer features of the feeling heart, Those tend'rer tints that shun the careless eye, And in the world's contagious climate die?
 * She left the cave, nor mark'd the stranger there;

Her pastoral beauty, and her artless air Had breath'd a soft enchantment o'er his soul! In every nerve he felt her blest control! What pure and white-wing'd agents of the sky, Who rule the springs of sacred sympathy, Inform congenial spirits when they meet? Sweet is their office, as their natures sweet! , with fearful joy, pursued the maid, Till thro' a vista's moonlight-chequer'd shade, Where the bat circled, and the rooks repos'd, (Their wars suspended, and their councils clos'd) An antique mansion burst in awful state, A rich vine clustering round the Gothic gate. Nor paus'd he there. The master of the scene Saw his light step imprint the dewy green; And slow-advancing, hail'd him as his guest, Won by the honest warmth his looks express'd.