Plenty and bliss on man, with looks as mild
As evening suns (when flowery footed May
Leads on the jocund hours, when Love himself
Flutters in green), effusing heartfelt joy
Abundant, Mercy shone with sober grace,
And majesty at once with sweetness mix'd
Ineffable. A rainbow o'er her head,
The covenant of God, betokening peace
"Twixt heaven and earth, its florid arch display'd,
High bended by the' Almighty's glorious hand;
The languish of the dove upon her eyes
In placid radiance melted, from the throne
Of grace infused, and fed with light; her smiles
Expansive cheer'd the undetermined tracks
Of all creation, from the' ethereal cope,
August with moving fires, down to the shades
Infernal, and the reign of darkness drear.
E'en men refine to angels from her gaze,
Gracious, invigorating, full of Heaven!
This daughter of the Lamb, to fervent prayers
And intercession, opes her ready ear,
Compassionate; and to Hygeia thuş―
'Hygeia, hie thee to the well of life;
There dip thy fingers; touch his head and breast;
Three drops into his mouth infuse, unseen,
Save by the eye of Faith: he yonder lies-
Descend, and take the evening's western wing.'
She said. Hygeia bow'd; and, bowing, fill'd
The circumambient air with odorous streams,
Pure essence of ambrosia! not the breath
Of Lebanon, from cedar alleys blown,
Of Lebanon, with aromatic gales
Luxuriant, spikenard, aloes, myrrh, and balm; Nor the wise eastern monarch's garden vied
In fragrance, when his fair Circassian spouse,
Enamour'd, call'd upon the south to fan
Its beds of spices, and her bosom cool,
Panting with languishment and lovesick fires.
Forth from the' eternal throne the well of Life,
Pouring its crystal, laves the streets of God
(Where Sickness never comes, nor Age, nor Pain),
Fast trickling o'er the pebble gems. Beneath
Unfading amarant and asphodel,
A mirror spreads its many colour'd round,
Mosaic work, inlaid by hands divine
In glistering rows, illuminating each,
Each shading: beryl, topaz, chalcedon,
Emerald, and amethyst. Whatever hues
The light reflects celestial quarries yield,
Or melt into the vernant showery bow,
Profusive, vary here in mingling beams.
Collected thus the waters, dimpling, end
Their soft progressive lapse. The Cherubs hence
Immortal vigour quaff and bliss unblamed.
Nor only flow for you, ye sons of Light,
The streams of comfort and of life, but flow
To heal the nations. Wonderful to tell,
The aged, they renew, the dead revive,
And more, the festers of the wounded soul,
Corrupted, black, to pristine white relume
And saintlike innocence. The mystic Dove
Broods, purifying o'er them, with his wings.
The angel, who Bethesda's troubled pool
Stirr'd, first his pinions with these vital drops
Sprinkled; then pour'd himself into the flood,
Instilling health and nutriment divine,
Its waves to quicken, and exalt its powers.
Here lights Hygeia, ardent to fulfil
Mercy's behest. The bloom of Paradise
Lived on her youthful cheek,and glow'd the Spring.
The deep carnations in the eastern skies,
When ruddy Morning walks along the hills,
Illustriously red, in purple dews,
Are languid to her blushes; for she blush'd
As through the opening file of winged flames
Bounding she lighted, and her sapphire eyes
With modest lustre bright, improving heaven,
Cast sweetly round, and bow'd to her compeers,
An angel amid angels. Light she sprung
Along the' empyreal road: her locks distill'd
Salubrious spirit on the stars. Full soon
She pass'd the gate of pearl, and down the sky,
Precipitant, upon the evening wing
Cleaves the live ether, and with healthy balm
Impregnates, and fecundity of sweets.
Conscious of her approach, the wanton birds,
Instinctive, carol forth, in livelier lays
And merrier melody, their grateful hymn,
Brisk fluttering to the breeze. Eftsoons the hills,
Beneath the gambols of the lamb and kid,
Of petulant delight, the circling maze
(Brush'd off its dews) betray. All Nature smiles
With double day delighted. Chief, on man
The goddess ray'd herself: he, wondering, feels
His heart in driving tumults, vigorous, leap,
And gushing ecstasy: bursts out his tongue
In laud, and unpremeditated song,
Obedient to the music in his veins.
Thus, when at first, the instantaneous light Sprung from the voice of God, and, vivid, threw Its golden mantle round the rising ball,
The cumbrous mass,shot through with vital warmth And plastic energy, to motion roll'd
The drowsy elements, and active rule:
Sudden the Morning stars together sang,
And shouted all the sons of God for joy.
Enters Hygeia, and her task performs,
With healing fingers touch'd my breast and head;
Three drops into my mouth infused, unseen,
Save by the eye of Faith: then reascends.
As snow in Salmon, at the tepid touch
Of southern gales, by soft degrees, dissolves
Trickling, yet slow, away; and loosen'd frosts
The genial impress feel of vernal suns,
Relenting to the ray; my torpid limbs
The healing virtue of Hygeia's hand
And salutary influence perceive,
Instant to wander through the whole. My heart
Begins to melt, o'errunning into joy,
My spirits, conscious of returning health,
And dire disease abating from the cells
And mazy haunts of life. The judging leech
Approves the symptoms, and my hope allows.
The hostile humours cease to bubble o'er
Their big distended channels; quiet now
And sinking into peace. The organs heave
Kindlier with life: and Nature's fabric near
To dissolution shatter'd, and its mould
To dust dissolved, though not its pristine strength
(The lusty vigour of its healthy prime),
Yet gentle force recovers; to maintain,
Against the tyrant Death's battering assaults,
The fort of Life.-But darkness, present still,
And absent sweet repose, best medicine, sleep,
Forbid my heart the full carouse of joy.
THE INVISIBLE GIRL*.
THEY try to persuade me, my dear little sprite,
That you are not a daughter of ether and light,
Nor have any concern with those fanciful forms
That dance upon rainbows and ride upon storms;
That, in short, you're a woman, your lip and your
breast
As mortal as ever were tasted or press'd!
But I will not believe them-no, science! to you
I have long bid a last and a careless adieu:
Still flying from nature to study her laws,
And dulling delight by exploring its cause,
You forget how superior, for mortals below,
Is the fiction they dream to the truth that they know.
Oh! who that has ever had rapture complete,
Would ask how we feel it, or why it is sweet;
How rays are confused, or how particles fly
Through the medium refined of a glance or a sigh!
Is there one, who but once would not rather have
known it
Than written,with Harvey,whole volumes upon it?
No, no-but for you, my invisible love,
I will swear you are one of those spirits that rove By the bank where, at twilight, the poet reclines, When the star of the west on his solitude shines, And the magical fingers of fancy have hung Every breeze with a sigh, every leaf with a tongue!
* The Invisible Girl was an acoustical deception, exhibited in Leicester Fields. From a glass globe, suspended in the midst of a room, and having no apparent communication with anything else, a female conversed with the spectators in four languages, and played upon the pianoforte: her breath might even be felt.
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