The Absent Muse

How soft roll'd the hours, how serene was my heart,
When the Muse my companion, and friend,
Unknown to ambition, a stranger to art,
Deign'd oft on my call to attend!

While she sooth'd all my cares, and my passions to rest,
(Sweet moments, why would you not stay!)
Delighted and easy I thought myself blest,
Nor envy'd the great, nor the gay.

Ye gentle delusions! ye dreams of delight!
And will ye approach me no more?
Shall the scene be a desart, o'ershaded with night,
Which was sunshine and Eden before?

No, the pleasures were real, though soon they withdrew;
And my cares I will call a long dream,
If the Muse will return, and present to my view
The scenes which were once my glad theme.

When Urania appears, o'er the field and the grave
New verdure and beauty shall rise;
The prospect shall brighten wherever I rove,
And Eden again meet my eyes.

How vain the dear hope! — She despises the lays
Which I once fondly thought she inspir'd;
Unfetter'd, transported, with Hervey she strays,
Applauded, belov'd, and admir'd.