Hail Poesy! celestial maid!
Who loves, reclin’d near purling stream,
To rest beneath the beachen shade,
“Wrapt in some wild fantastic dream.”
Howe’er intent on other cares,
Still deign to hear a suppliant’s pray’rs!
Who fain would view thy ample store,
And all thy secret haunts explore,
Where, as enraptur’d bards have told,
Whose eyes have peer’d thy stores among,
Gnomes, sylphs, and sprites, their dwelling hold,
Till call’d by thee to grace their song;
Where fairies, clad in bright attire,
Faint lighted by the glow-worm’s fire,
Are seen to gambol to the breeze,
Which nightly plays amongst the trees;
And while, with silent step, their round they pace,
The flitting dew-drops gem the consecrated place.