No more the Muse obtrudes her thin disguise, <br />No more with awkward fallacy complains <br />How every fervour from my bosom flies, <br />And Reason in her lonesome palace reigns. <br /> <br />Ere the chill winter of our days arrive, <br />No more she paints the breast from passion free; <br />I feel, I feel one loitering wish survive- <br />Ah! need I, Florio, name that wish to thee? <br /> <br />The star of Venus ushers in the day, <br />The first, the loveliest of the train that shine! <br />The star of Venus lends her brightest ray, <br />When other stars their friendly beams resign. <br /> <br />Still in my breast one soft desire remains, <br />Pure as that star, from guilt, from interest, free <br />Has gentle Delia tripp'd across the plains, <br />And need I, Florio, name that wish to thee? <br /> <br />While, cloy'd to find the scenes of life the same, <br />I tune with careless hand my languid lays, <br />Some secret impulse wakes my former flame, <br />And fires my strain with hopes of brighter days. <br /> <br />I slept not long beneath yon rural bowers, <br />And, lo! my crook with flowers adorn'd I see: <br />Has gentle Delia bound my crook with flowers, <br />And need I, Florio, name my hopes to thee?<br /><br />William Shenstone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elegy-xii-his-recantation/
