From the Greek by Ambrose Phillips
BLEST as the immortal gods is he,
The youth who fondly sits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while
Softly speak, and sweetly smile.
’T was this deprived my soul of rest,
And raised such tumults in my breast:
For while I gazed, in transport tost,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost....
From “The Pleasures of Memory”
ETHEREAL power! who at the noon of night
Recall’st the far fled spirit of delight;
From whom that musing, melancholy mood
Which charms the wise, and elevates the good;
Blest Memory, hail! O grant the grateful muse,
Her pencil dipped in nature’s living hues,
To pass the clouds that round thy empire roll,...
How blest the youth whom Fate ordains
A kind relief from all his pains,
In some admired fair;
Whose tend'rest wishes find express'd
Their own resemblance in her breast
Exactly copied there.
What good soe'er the Gods dispense,
Th' enjoyment of its influence
Still on...
