William Hamilton Reid

Sonnet to Poesy

Sweet Poesy! when I thy spirit feel
Hov'ring — I hail the blest Arcadian's reign;
And strait away, the sullen passions steal,
And balm dissolves each adamantine chain—
Thy mystic visions still to me reveal,
'Fore the mind's eye, bring valley, hill, or plain,
Turret nor tow'r, nor sea mark'd cliff conceal,
Nor haunt of elves, nor sport of village train.
Then, if 'tis mine, with eagle eye t' explore
Earth, air, or ocean, let the dull deride
Th' unpurchas'd bliss, that rapt with Nature's lore,
Would scorn th' exchange of opulence, or pride
Tasteless! Such rais'd the exil'd bard of yore,
Whose shade still frowns on Mulla's joyless side.