| |
| EVER let the Fancy roam, | |
| Pleasure never is at home: | |
| At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, | |
| Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; | |
| Then let wingèd Fancy wander | 5 |
| Through the thought still spread beyond her: | |
| Open wide the mind’s cage-door, | |
| She ’ll dart forth, and cloudward soar. | |
| |
| O sweet Fancy! let her loose; | |
| Summer’s joys are spoilt by use, | 10 |
| And the enjoying of the Spring | |
| Fades as does its blossoming: | |
| Autumn’s red-lipped fruitage too, | |
| Blushing through the mist and dew, | |
| Cloys with tasting. What do then? | 15 |
| Sit thee by the ingle, when | |
| The sear fagot blazes bright, | |
| Spirit of a winter’s night; | |
| When the soundless earth is muffled, | |
| And the cakèd snow is shuffled | 20 |
| From the ploughboy’s heavy shoon; | |
| When the Night doth meet the Noon | |
| In a dark conspiracy | |
| To banish Even from her sky. | |
| —Sit thee there, and send abroad | 25 |
| With a mind self-overawed | |
| Fancy, high-commissioned:—send her! | |
| She has vassals to attend her; | |
| She will bring, in spite of frost, | |
| Beauties that the earth hath lost; | 30 |
| She will bring thee, all together, | |
| All delights of summer weather; | |
| All the buds and bells of May | |
| From dewy sward or thorny spray; | |
| All the heapèd Autumn’s wealth, | 35 |
| With a still, mysterious stealth; | |
| She will mix these pleasures up | |
| Like three fit wines in a cup, | |
| And thou shalt quaff it;—thou shalt hear | |
| Distant harvest-carols clear; | 40 |
| Rustle of the reapèd corn; | |
| Sweet birds antheming the morn; | |
| And in the same moment—hark! | |
| ’T is the early April lark, | |
| Or the rooks, with busy caw, | 45 |
| Foraging for sticks and straw. | |
| Thou shalt, at one glance, behold | |
| The daisy and the marigold; | |
| White-plumed lilies, and the first | |
| Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst; | 50 |
| Shaded hyacinth, alway | |
| Sapphire queen of the mid-May; | |
| And every leaf, and every flower | |
| Pearlèd with the self-same shower. | |
| Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep | 55 |
| Meagre from its cellèd sleep; | |
| And the snake all winter-thin | |
| Cast on sunny bank its skin; | |
| Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see | |
| Hatching in the hawthorn tree, | 60 |
| When the hen-bird’s wing doth rest | |
| Quiet on her mossy nest; | |
| Then the hurry and alarm | |
| When the beehive casts its swarm; | |
| Acorns ripe down-pattering | 65 |
| While the autumn breezes sing. | |
| |
| O sweet Fancy! let her loose; | |
| Everything is spoilt by use: | |
| Where ’s the cheek that doth not fade, | |
| Too much gazed at? Where ’s the maid | 70 |
| Whose lip mature is ever new? | |
| Where ’s the eye, however blue, | |
| Doth not weary? Where ’s the face | |
| One would meet in every place? | |
| Where ’s the voice, however soft, | 75 |
| One would hear so very oft? | |
| At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth | |
| Like to bubbles when rain pelteth. | |
| Let then wingèd Fancy find | |
| Thee a mistress to thy mind: | 80 |
| Dulcet-eyed as Ceres’ daughter, | |
| Ere the god of torment taught her | |
| How to frown and how to chide; | |
| With a waist and with a side | |
| White as Hebe’s, when her zone | 85 |
| Split its golden clasp, and down | |
| Fell her kirtle to her feet | |
| While she held the goblet sweet, | |
| And Jove grew languid.—Break the mesh | |
| Of the Fancy’s silken leash; | 90 |
| Quickly break her prison-string, | |
| And such joys as these she ’ll bring: | |
| —Let the wingèd Fancy roam, | |
| Pleasure never is at home. | |
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