SONG
.
THE
eve
descends
with
radiant
streaks
,
Sweetly
serene
and
grandly
gay
,
While
western
tinges
flush
the
cheeks
,
And
insects
'mid
the
zephyrs
play
.
Young
CYMON
,
with
a
rapt'rous
heart
,
Whom
woodland
scenes
and
pleasures
drew
,
Rov'd
while
his
sweet
poetic
art
From
Nature
stole
its
noblest
hue
.
On
wild-thyme
banks
the
poet
sung
,
Harmonious
thither
call'd
his
fair
,
Where
blooming
roses
clustering
hung
,
And
every
sweet
perfum'd
the
air
.
Attentive
to
the
well-known
song
Whose
warbled
sounds
pervade
the
grove
,
Blushing
she
heard
,
and
sped
along
,
Her
thrilling
bosom
fir'd
with
love
.
As
on
the
odorous
bank
he
pours
A
lover's
song
,
a
lover's
sighs
,
He
saw
her
glowing
,
deck'd
with
flowers
,
Affection
beaming
from
her
eyes
.
As
summer
suns
unfold
the
rose
,
Or
heightening
sweets
embalm
the
grove
,
So
as
he
gaz'd
she
deeper
glows
,
And
every
look
was
fraught
with
love
.
While
o'er
her
face
the
zephyrs
play
,
A
thousand
charms
delight
each
sense
,
Join'd
to
the
blushing
bloom
of
May
The
sweeter
hue
of
innocence
.
Her
lovely
hands
a
garland
bound
,
Then
on
his
head
she
plac'd
the
wreath
,
His
locks
with
flowering
myrtles
crown'd
,
Laurels
and
roses
wav'd
beneath
.
The
vivid
fires
thrill'd
through
his
breast
As
energetic
strains
he
sung
;
Her
artless
eyes
still
more
express'd
Than
the
wild
fervour
of
his
tongue
.