Sonnet LXI

TO MR. HENRY CARY,

ON READING HIS SONNETS WRITTEN AT SIXTEEN.

Disciple of the bright Aonian Maid

In thy life's blossom, a resistless spell

Amid the wild wood, and irriguous dell,

O'er thymy hill, and thro' illumin'd glade,

Led thee, for her thy votive wreaths to braid,

Where flaunts the musk-rose, and the azure bell

Nods o'er loquacious brook, or silent well.—

Thus woo'd her inspirations, their rapt aid

Liberal she gave; nor only thro' thy strain

Breath'd their pure spirit, while her charms beguil'd

The languid hours of Sorrow, and of Pain,

But when Youth's tide ran high, and tempting smil'd

Circean Pleasure, rescuing did she stand,

Broke the Enchantress' cup and snapt her wand.