To Fancy

O! what a nameless feeling of delight     Stole o'er my wondering spirit, like a gleam     From opening heaven! dost thou, then, Fancy, deign     Once more to visit me? thou dost! thou dost!     That breath of extacy, that heavenly light,     Flow'd from the wafture of thy angel wings,     And from thy smiling eyes: divinest Power!     Welcome, thrice welcome! O vouchsafe to make     My breast thy temple, and my heart thy shrine!     Still will I worship thee, and thou shalt keep,     In peace, thy new abode, nor fear the approach     Of aught profane or hostile, to disturb     Thy holy mysteries; for I will chase     Far from the hallow'd precincts where thou dwell'st     Each worldly passion, every grovelling thought,     And all the train of Vice; striving to make     The shrine well-worthy its celestial guest.     Still will I worship thee, and oft invoke     Thine inspirations, and with transport yield     To thy sweet, magic influence all my soul:     The slightest breath of thine inspiring voice     Shall wake my nerves, most feelingly alive,     And bid them tremble with poetic bliss.     The frown of Reason thou no more shalt fear;     Did I say Reason's frown? no! 'twas the frown     Of false Philosophy, her foolish pride.     Reason and Thou are sisters, born to rule     Unitedly, in happiest harmony,     The mind of man; and in the heaven-sent hour     Of inspiration, from the self-same source     Ye pour the stream of mingled light and flame     That animates, illumes, and warms the soul.     How could I e'er desert thee, loveliest Nymph!     To court thy rival, false Philosophy?     How could I quit thy verdant, flowery walks,     To tread with painful toil the briary maze     Of metaphysic lore? Indulgent Power!     The offence forgive. Lured by the specious name,     Philosophy, and by her meteor rays     Misled, with fond presumptuousness I strove     To penetrate the dark, unfathom'd depth     Where Truth in awful mystery resides.     Not deigning in thy mirror to behold     Her image, though in loveliest beauty clad,     With lawless curiosity I sought     To view the Goddess in her naked form.     But heaven to man, nor angel gives to scan     Truth's very self; she lives for ever hid,     Shrined in the bosom of Divinity.     Long wandering mid the chaos, I at length     Approach'd the border of the cold, dark waste,     The bottomless abyss, the dreadful void     Of scepticism; affrighted, back I shrunk.     O Fancy! ne'er will I forsake thee more,     Nor view thee with severe, truth-searching eye,     Melting thy fairy visions into air.     Thy paradise, delighted, let me rove,     There study nature, and with grateful heart,     In thy serene, translucent stream behold     The light of truth reflected, and the smile     Of heaven's benevolence, and in that glass     The loveliness of every Virtue woo     And every Grace. There let me, too, behold     In all her beauty, bright-eyed Poesy,     That heavenly Maid who charm'd my youthful heart;     And let the love of glory fire my breast;     And let me see, to stimulate my powers,     The new-born crescent of my fame ascend,     While on its pointed horn the Fairy, Hope,     On tiptoe stands, fluttering her airy wings     To fan its beams and joyful hails the hour     When in its full-orb'd glory it shall shine.