Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.
By To FancyWilliam Cliffton (17721799)
A
Sweetest fancy, ever young,
I to thee my soul resign;
All my future life be thine:
Rich or beggar’d, chain’d or free,
Let me live and laugh with thee.
“Rise thou sluggard, come away:”
But can he thy joy impart,
Will he crown my leaping heart?
If I banish hence thy smile
Will he make it worth my while?
Fleeting good too light to last,
Lifts my friend the latch no more,
Fancy, thou canst all restore;
Thou canst, with thy airy shell,
To a palace raise my cell.
When tyrant tempest shakes my shed,
And pipes aloud; how bless’d am I,
All cheering nymph, if thou art by,
If thou art by to snatch my soul
Where billows rage and thunders roll.
We ’ll mark the mighty coil below,
While round us innocently play
The lightning’s flash, and meteor’s ray
And, all so sad, some spectre form
Is heard to moan amid the storm.
In some old haunted nook to sleep,
Lull’d by the dreary night-bird’s scream,
That flits along the wizard stream,
And there, till morning ’gins appear,
The tales of troubled spirits hear.
Quiet pause ’tween day and night,
When, afar, the mellow horn
Chides the tardy-gaited morn,
And asleep is yet the gale
On sea-beat mount, and river’d vale.
Sweeter is when thou art there;
Hymning stars successive fade,
Fairies hurtle through the shade,
Love-lorn flowers I weeping see,
If the scene is touch’d by thee.
When my spirits dance and play,
To some sunny bank we ’ll go
Where the fairest roses blow,
And in gamesome vein prepare
Chaplets for thy spangled hair.
Happy still whate’er betide,
And while plodding sots complain
Of ceaseless toil and slender gain,
Every passing hour shall be
Worth a golden age to me.
Lead, Oh! lead me to thy bower;
I to thee my soul resign,
All my future life be thine.
Rich or beggar’d, chain’d or free,
Let me live and laugh with thee.