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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE NATAL GENIUS, A DREAM; TO ---, ON THE MORNING OF HER BIRTHDAY by THOMAS MOORE

First Line: IN WITCHING SLUMBERS OF THE NIGHT
Last Line: THAT FLASHES FROM MY NONA'S EYE!

IN witching slumbers of the night,
I dream'd I was the airy sprite
That on thy natal moment smiled;
And thought I wafted on my wing
Those flowers which in Elysium spring,
To crown my lovely mortal child.

With olive-branch I bound thy head,
Heart's-ease along thy path I shed,
Which was to bloom through all thy years
Nor yet did I forget to bind
Love's roses, with his myrtle twined,
And dew'd by sympathetic tears.

Such was the wild but precious boon,
Which Fancy, at her magic noon,
Bade me to Nona's image pay --
Oh! were I, love, thus doom'd to be
Thy little guardian deity,
How blest around thy steps I'd play!

Thy life should softly steal along,
Calm as some lonely shepherd's song
That 's heard at distance in the grove;
No cloud should ever shade thy sky,
No thorns along thy pathway lie,
But all be sunshine, peace, and love!

The wing of time should never brush
Thy dewy lip's luxuriant flush,
To bid its roses withering die;
Nor age itself, though dim and dark,
Should ever quench a single spark
That flashes from my Nona's eye!



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