ON THE
MORNING OF HER BIRTH-DAY.
LAST night, as musing on a lay
To greet thee on thy natal day,
Sleep o’er my eyes her poppies press’d;
And, as I softly sunk to rest,
Fancy beguil’d the passing hours
With visions fair as summer flow’rs,
In all their blushing beauty drest.
Methought in fairy land I wander’d,
A land renown’d in ancient tale;
And by a streamlet clear and bright,
Reflecting Cynthia’s silver light,
That o’er its glitt’ring bed meander’d
In peaceful murmurs thro’ the vale,
A band of tiny elves I spied,
Disporting gaily side by side,
And frisking in the moon-beam pale.
Their robes of green were spangled o’er
With pearly dew-drops, silv’ry bright;
And on their little forms, so light,
Beauty had lavish’d all her store.
Upon their heads an em’rald crown
Encompass’d plumes of cygnets’ down;
Which, as they sported in the shade,
With ev’ry wanton zephyr play’d
That flutter’d on the verdant shore.
And now from forth a hollow tree,
In gallant trim came merrily
Of little knights a fairy band,
Each with a glow-worm in his hand,
To light the scene of revelry.–
The silver fish had lent its scale,
To deck their splendid coat of mail;
Which studded shone with golden sand,
And gems that sparkled brilliantly:
And each a slender jav’lin bore,
Like gallant knights in days of yore.
Their glossy bucklers’ sable pride
Was stolen from the beetle’s side;
And lady-birds had cast their shell,
To form their helmets’ polish’d swell,
O’er which majestic seem’d to fly
Soft plumage of celestial dye.
And soon each gentle warrior-knight
Threw off his cumb’rous shield and lance;
And, while soft music charm’d the night,
His little fairy partner led
To mingle in the circling dance.
They now retreat, and now advance;–
Now, frisking light, with airy tread,
They gain the nearest mountain head,
Where shone a blooming woodbine bow’r,
Adorn’d with many a fragrant flow’r
That early spring profusely shed.
There, on an altar dazzling-white,
A graceful figure met the sight;
Upon whose pedestal was seen,
In golden letters, “BEAUTY’S QUEEN .”
The face was by a veil conceal’d,
And ev’n the form but half-reveal’d;
Yet plainly shone in ev’ry line
The traces of a form divine.
When, lo ! from forth his secret cell,
A spotless lily’s perfum’d bell,
A naked infant blushing flew:
His breast the mountain snow outvied;
His lip the rich carnation’s pride;
And o’er his eyes’ luxuriant blue
His silken ringlets lightly flew.–
Around, in adoration low,
The circling fairies prostrate bow;
Hailing, with shouts of heartfelt glee,
The presence of their deity.
And now the blooming dimpled child
Display’d his purple wings, and smil’d;
And, raising high his little hand,
Attentive silence to command,
He thus bespoke the fairy band:
“The genial spring’s all-cheering ray
Hath bid the win’try tempests fly;
And now, revolving, brings the day
On whose blest morn awoke to birth
The fairest flow’r of all the earth.
Come, then, ere dawn-light’s weeping eye
Dissolve our midnight revelry,
Responsive to the tabor’s sound
Now chaunt the merry roundelay,
And let the rosy cup go round.
Of cowslips sweet a garland bring,
The firstlings of the infant spring;
And add the primrose, soft and pale,
The humble fav’rite of the vale:
And twine them into many a braid,
To decorate the blooming maid.–
“Enough ! the magic spell is o’er:
“Fall prostrate, Fairies ! and adore.”—-
And, as the veil he gently rais’d,
In soft enchantment lost I gaz’d:
For, as he gave the form to light
In all its native lustre bright,
It was thy image met my sight.–
And now the morning’s rosy ray
Upon my window ‘gan to play,
Just as thy form dissol’vd in air,
And ev’ry fairy took his flight.
(Mary Elizabeth Robinson)
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