ODE
TO
HEALTH
.
BY
J.
H.
B.
ESQ
.
COME
,
rosy
Health
,
celestial
maid
,
On
Zephyr's
silken
wing
convey'd
,
In
smiles
thy
heavenly
features
drest
,
Descend
,
thou
sweet
enchanting
guest
All
charming
,
whether
you
appear
In
STAMER's
lovely
form
and
air
,
Or
her's
who
yonder
shines
from
far
Fair
as
the
morning's
silver
star
,
In
youth's
soft
prime
and
beauty's
pride
,
On
Shannon's
flower-enamell'd
side
,
By
shepherds
,
in
each
amorous
tale
,
Yclept
the
Miss
Fitzgerald
.
Lily
of
the
vale
.
Bright
daughter
of
the
blushing
dawn
,
Nymph
of
the
woods
,
and
daisied
lawn
,
Who
fliest
the
busy
,
full
resorts
Of
peopled
cities
,
revelling
courts
,
But
,
clad
in
russet
,
lov'st
to
dwell
With
Temperance
in
the
rural
cell
,
Attend
the
sheep-boy
at
his
stand
,
Or
ploughman
o'er
the
furrow'd
land
,
Or
wait
,
at
spring
of
fragrant
morn
,
The
opening
hound
,
and
cheering
horn
;
Ever
cheerful
,
ever
gay
.
Hither
come
and
chase
away
,
Sorrow
of
dejected
eye
,
The
plaintive
tear
,
the
struggling
sigh
,
Disease
with
sickly
yellow
spread
,
And
Pain
that
holds
the
hanging
head
;
And
in
their
stead
conduct
along
,
Fantastic
Dance
,
and
airy
Song
,
Wit
,
of
taste
correct
and
fine
,
Frolic
Mirth
,
that
waits
on
wine
,
Hope
that
fans
the
lover's
fires
,
Pleasing
Follies
,
gay
Desires
,
For
these
are
thine
,
a
sprightly
train
,
Without
thee
lifeless
,
joyless
,
vain
.
'Tis
you
who
pour
o'er
Beauty's
face
The
artless
bloom
,
the
native
grace
;
You
robb'd
the
bashful
rose
,
and
shed
Its
soft
,
refin'd
,
delicious
red
On
WALLER's
cheek
;
'tis
you
bestow
On
MANSEL's
lips
the
ripening
glow
;
With
quickening
spirits
you
supply
The
trembling
lustre
of
her
eye
.
Through
every
form
of
mystic
birth
,
The
swarming
air
,
the
teeming
earth
,
Through
all
the
fruitful
deep
contains
,
Thy
sovereign
vital
influence
reigns
,
Mixes
,
ferments
,
inspires
the
whole
,
Pours
the
glad
warmth
,
the
genial
soul
,
Breathes
in
the
breeze
,
distills
in
showers
,
Swells
the
young
bud
,
and
wakes
the
flowers
:
With
livelier
green
the
herbage
springs
,
The
violet
blows
,
the
linnet
sings
,
Its
richest
colouring
Nature
wears
,
And
Pleasure
leads
the
wanton
years
.
Oh
!
see
I
pine
distress'd
,
forlorn
,
And
seek
in
vain
thy
wish'd
return
:
Return
then
,
Goddess
,
heavenly
mild
,
Indulgent
now
as
once
you
smil'd
,
In
golden
Youth's
propitious
May
,
When
jocund
danc'd
my
hours
away
,
With
love
,
and
joy
,
and
rapture
blest
,
And
thou
wast
there
to
crown
the
rest
.
Then
,
as
around
the
Seasons
range
,
And
years
in
sweet
succession
change
,
On
Shannon's
silver-flowing
stream
,
I'll
sing
and
thou
shalt
be
my
theme
;
Rich
in
my
verse
,
thy
charms
shall
shine
,
And
HAROLD's
beauties
yield
to
thine
.