Sonnet 44. Here Droops the Muse
Here droops the muse! while from her glowing mind, Celestial Sympathy, with humid eye, Bids the light Sylph capricious Fancy fly, Time’s restless wings with transient flowr’s to bind! For now, with folded arms and head inclin’d, Reflection pours the deep and frequent sigh, O’er the dark scroll of human destiny, Where gaudy buds and wounding thorns are twin’d. O! Sky-born VIRTUE! sacred is thy name! And though mysterious Fate, with frown severe, Oft decorates thy brows with wreaths of Fame, Bespangled o’er with sorrow’s chilling tear! Yet shalt thou more than mortal raptures claim, The brightest planet of th’ ETERNAL SPHERE!
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