PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY HARWOOD AND HALL.

BODLEIAL

2 FEB 1935

LIBRARY

INVOCATION TO APOLLO

ON

TWILIGHT, MOONLIGHT, MIDNIGHT, &c.

APOLLO, I thy aid implore

To sing the charms of Twilight's hour;
Oh, grant to cheer me through the night,
A ray of thy transcendent light.

I love that hour, when day recedes,
And evening's dew is on the leaves;
When nightingales are warbling soft,
Their syren notes on boughs aloft;

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When some, who seek affection's throne,
Pursue life's dreary paths alone;

Some hearts with mutual ardour beat,

Whose hopes and fears congenial meet,

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When met, their feelings never sever,
But cling through life-then live for ever.

Oh, Twilight! thine's a lovely hour,

So sweet its spell-so soft its pow'r.

That which succeeds to eve's decline,

Is finer far, far more sublime :

As Sol withdraws his farewell beam,

Gloom gives fresh int'rest to the scene; Enchants us more, as less reveal'd,

Like Beauty, when almost conceal'd.

Observe, Gloom's talismanic wand

Raises superlatively grand—

Ideal shapes :—a countless train,
That fill the soul, and warm the brain:
Advancing from—we know not where;
And, as we meet them,-melt in air.

I've heard it ask'd, with some surprize, Why darkness gives, what light denies?

Too oft in life, experience shews,
Bliss--from reality scarce flows:
But, grant Imagination scope,

We revel in the joys of hope.

See night's pale luminary breaks

Thro' heav'n's high dome, and faintly streaks,

With tints of gold, or silver hue,

Surrounding skies of darkest blue.

How oft in raptures have I stray'd,

While Cynthia's beams o'er lakes have play'd;

When Vestal stars around her shone,

Like goddesses near Juno's throne :

Not Paradise is more serene,

'Tis heav'n to gaze on such a scene; Where distant spheres like angels shine, Reflecting here their lights divine.

Now gently ebbs the Midnight tide,

On chrystal streams fair mermaids glide;

To watch the bark of seamen brave,

And steer them o'er the dubious wave: