ALL glorious power! of keen celestial eye,
Genius! tumultuous ruler of the breast,
By nature wing’d with wond’rous speed to fly,
Yet seldom visiting an earthly guest!
Descend for once with all thy glowing fire,
And make my soul thy transitory shrine:
Or oh! forgive me if I deck my lyre
With gems or ornaments that are not thine!
Come, guide my fancy when it seeks the Muse
That still to thee directs her daring flight!
Through my chill veins one gentle beam infuse
Of splendor, visible to mortal sight!
Lead to the bow’rs where haunt thy heavenly train,
And I will distant watch their mystic tread;
From their rich harvest glean the scatter’d grain,
To weave a band fantastic for my head.
By me unenvied, flattering crowds may throng,
Where Poets trace the never-varying round;
If thou, bright genius! animate my song,
My name shall live, with endless glory crowned.
(Emma Lyon)
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