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TO THE

POWERS OF FANCY.

Ou ye

wild Powers of Fancy! from whom springs Whate'er of rapture or of bliss adorns The bloom of youth ; ye whose ambrosial wings Shower down life's blessings, but withhold its

thorns,

Still may your dear illusions o'er my soul

Their soothing empire hold, still o'er the course Of each fine nerve in quick vibrations roll,

And tinge each young idea in its source.

What though cold Apathy would curb your sway,

Would chase your sweet delirium froro my breast; Still may that breast your soft controul obey, Still in your visionary flights be blest.

Let others boast their bosoms never knew

The phantasies with which your thraldom teems; Let others their unvaried course pursue ;

For me....my heart your sway a blessing deems.

Oft has your influence led, my feet have strayed Through dells enlightened by the moon's pale

beam, Have sought the silence of the pathless glade,

The vaulted rock, or long-resounding stream.

Then would the murmurs of the passing wind, That breathed, soft sighing, through the rustling

sprays, Create strange feelings in my melting mind,

And lead my ravished thoughts through many a

maze.

Then would the cataract's impetuous sound

Exalt my soul, as down its rifted bed
It drove unceasing, and my feet would bound,

As if upborn by wings, with loftier tread.

Sweet were ye, dreams of Fancy, when my soul

First felt the bosom-spring of young desire, When first Love's dear enchantment o'er nie stole,

And every pulse confessed his thrilling fire.

Then first did Hope unveil her laughing eyes,

And promise sunshine to my future years; But ah! with Hope came mingled tears, and sighs,

And fond anxieties, and chilling fears.

Then Love was all to me ; all nature round

Seemed full of Love; in every leaf and flower Something congenial with his flame I found,

Some apt memorial of his wide-spread power.

Oft as I shunned the busy haunts of care,
And roamed through glens and forest-glooms,

each sound
That floated buoyant on the wings of air

Within my breast an answering echo found.

And now, while undiminished through my frame

Glows the fierce fire, and burns in every pore, Still join your genial influence to the flame,

And add some new-born charm unknown before.

“Oh ye wild Powers of Fancy ! from whom springs

Whate’er of rapture or of bliss adorns The bloom of youth, ye whose ambrosial wings Shower down life's blessings, but withhold its

thorns,

Let others boast their bosoms never knew

The phantasies with which your thraldom teems, Let others their unvaried course pursue ;

For me....my heart your sway a blessing deems."

SONNETS.

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