TO THE LADY MARY LOWTHER
LADY! I rifled a Parnassian Cave (But seldom trod) of mildly-gleaming ore; And culled, from sundry beds, a lucid store Of genuine crystals, pure as those that pave The azure brooks, where Dian joys to lave Her spotless limbs; and ventured to explore Dim shades–for reliques, upon Lethe’s shore, Cast up at random by the sullen wave. To female hands the treasures were resigned; And lo this Work!–a grotto bright and clear 10 From stain or taint; in which thy blameless mind May feed on thoughts though pensive not austere; Or, if thy deeper spirit be inclined To holy musing, it may enter her. 1820.