SONNET--To Melancholy

* Prometheus

To my Readers_ [This section may no longer exist.]






TO THE REVIEWERS.


Oh, ye! enthron'd in presidential awe,
To give the song-smit generation law;
Who wield Apollo's delegated rod,
And shake Parnassus with your sovereign nod;
A pensive Pilgrim, worn with base turmoils,
Plebian cares, and mercenary toils,
Implores your pity, while with footsteps rude,
He dares within the mountain's pale intrude;
For, oh! enchantment through its empire dwells,
And rules the spirit with Lethëan spells;
By hands unseen aërial harps are hung,
And Spring, like Hebe, ever fair and young,
On her broad bosom rears the laughing loves,
And breathes bland incense through the warbling groves;
Spontaneous, bids unfading blossoms blow.
And nectar'd streams mellifluously flow.