TO THE EVENING STAR
by: Mark Akenside (1721-1770)
- 1
- To-night retired, the queen of heaven
- With young Endymion stays:
- And now to Hesper it is given
- A while to rule the vacant sky,
- Till she shall to her lamp supply
- A stream of brighter rays.
- 2
- O Hesper, while the starry throng
- With awe thy path surrounds,
- Oh, listen to my suppliant song,
- If haply now the vocal sphere
- Can suffer thy delighted ear
- To stoop to mortal sounds.
- 3
- So may the bridegroom's genial strain
- Thee still invoke to shine:
- So may the bride's unmarried train
- To Hymen chant their flattering vow,
- Still that his lucky torch may glow
- With lustre pure as thine.
- 4
- Far other vows must I prefer
- To thy indulgent power.
- Alas, but now I paid my tear
- On fair Olympia's virgin tomb:
- And lo, from thence, in quest I roam
- Of Philomela's bower.
- 5
- Propitious send thy golden ray,
- Thou purest light above:
- Let no false flame seduce to stray
- Where gulf or steep lie hid for harm:
- But lead where music's healing charm
- May soothe afflicted love.
- 6
- To them, by many a grateful song
- In happier seasons vow'd,
- These lawns, Olympia's haunt, belong:
- Oft by yon silver stream we walk'd,
- Or fix'd, while Philomela talk'd,
- Beneath yon copses stood.
- 7
- Nor seldom, where the beechen boughs
- That roofless tower invade,
- We came while her enchanting Muse
- The radiant moon above us held:
- Till by a clamorous owl compell'd
- She fled the solemn shade.
- 8
- But hark; I hear her liquid tone.
- Now, Hesper, guide my feet
- Down the red marl with moss o'ergrown,
- Through yon wild thicket next the plain,
- Whose hawthorns choke the winding lane,
- Which leads to her retreat.
- 9
- See the green space; on either hand
- Enlarged it spreads around:
- See, in the midst she takes her stand,
- Where one old oak his awful shade
- Extends o'er half the level mead
- Enclosed in woods profound.
- 10
- Hark, through many a melting note
- She now prolongs her lays:
- How sweetly down the void they float!
- The breeze their magic path attends,
- The stars shine out, the forest bends,
- The wakeful heifers gaze.
- 11
- Whoe'er thou art whom chance may bring
- To this sequester'd spot,
- If then the plaintive Syren sing,
- Oh! softly tread beneath her bower,
- And think of heaven's disposing power,
- Of man's uncertain lot.
- 12
- Oh! think, o'er all this mortal stage,
- What mournful scenes arise:
- What ruin waits on kingly rage,
- How often virtue dwells with woe,
- How many griefs from knowledge flow,
- How swiftly pleasure flies.
- 13
- O sacred bird, let me at eve,
- Thus wandering all alone,
- Thy tender counsel oft receive,
- Bear witness to thy pensive airs,
- And pity Nature's common cares,
- Till I forget my own.
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POEMS BY MARK AKENSIDE |
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