Who from the black and bloody cavern led The savage stern, and sooth'd his boisterous breast; Who spoke, and Science rear'd her radiant head, And brighten'd o'er the long benighted waste;
Or, greatly daring in his country's cause, Whose heaven-taught soul the awful plan design'd, Whence Power stood trembling at the voice of laws, Whence soar'd on Freedom's wing th' ethereal mind.
But not the pomp that royalty displays, Nor all the imperial pride of lofty Troy, Nor Virtue's triumph of immortal praise, Could rouse the languor of the lingering boy.
Abandon'd all to soft Enone's charms, He to oblivion doom'd the listless day; Inglorious lull'd in Love's dissolving arms, While flutes lascivious breath'd th' enfeebling lay.
To trim the ringlets of his scented hair, To aim, insidious, Love's bewitching glance, Or cull fresh garlands for the gaudy fair, Or wanton loose in the voluptuous dance;
These were his arts; these won Enone's love, Nor sought his fetter'd soul a nobler aim. Ah, why should beauty's smile those arts approve, Which taint with infamy the lover's flame?
Now laid at large beside a murmuring spring, Melting he listen'd to the vernal song, And Echo listening wav'd her airy wing, While the deep winding dales the lays prolong.
When slowly floating down the azure skies A crimson cloud flash'd on his startled sight; Whose skirts gay-sparkling with unnumber'd dyes Launch'd the long billowy trails of flickering light.
That instant, hush'd was all the vocal grove, Hush'd was the gale, and every ruder sound, And strains aërial, warbling far above, Rung in the ear a magic peal profound.
Near, and more near, the swimming radiance roll'd; Along the mountains stream the lingering fires, Sublime the groves of Ida blaze with gold, And all the heaven resounds with louder lyres.
The trumpet breath'd a note: and all in air The glories vanish'd from the dazzled eye; And three ethereal forms, divinely fair, Down the steep glade were seen advancing nigh.
The flowering glade fell level where they mov'd, O'erarching high the clustering roses hung, And gales from heaven on balmy pinion rov'd, And hill and dale with gratulation rung.
The first with slow and stately step drew near, Fix'd was her lofty eye, erect her mien: Sublime in grace, in majesty severe, She look'd and mov'd a goddess and a queen.