ENCHANTRESS, farewell, who so oft hast decoy'd me, At the close of the evening through woodlands to roam, Where the forester, 'lated, with wonder espied me Explore the wild scenes he was quitting for home. Farewell, and take with thee thy numbers wild speaking The language alternate of rapture and woe: Oh! none but some lover, whose heartstrings are breaking, The pang that I feel at our parting can know. Each joy thou couldst double, and when there came sorrow, Or pale disappointment to darken my way, What voice was like thine, that could sing of to-morrow, Till forgot in the strain was the grief of to-day! But when friends drop around us in life's weary waning, The grief, Queen of Numbers, thou canst not assuage; Nor the gradual estrangement of those yet remaining, The languor of pain, and the chillness of age. 'Twas thou that once taught me, in accents bewailing, To sing how a warrior lay stretch'd on the plain, And a maiden hung o'er him with aid unavailing, And held to his lips the cold goblet in vain; As vain thy enchantments, O Queen of wild Numbers, To a bard when the reign of his fancy is o'er, And the quick pulse of feeling in apathy slumbers -- Farewell, then, Enchantress! I meet thee no more! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 5. SHE THINKS OF THE FAITHFUL ONE by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS ON H----YS FRIENDSHIP by WILLIAM BLAKE SUNRISE OVER THE SIERRAS by HENRY MEADE BLAND THE CHRISTENING OF THE STADIUM by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE WINDS by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES ADDRESS TO BEELZEBUB by ROBERT BURNS THREE WOMEN: FIAMMETTA by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR VERSES: THE FIFTH BOY by JOHN BYROM LINES TO A PUMPING ENGINE FOR A RELIGIOUS HOUSE: 1. OLD STYLE by FLORENCE CONVERSE |