Still as from tint to tint he stole,
The fair design shone out the more,
And there was now a life, a soul,
Where only colors glowed before.
Then first carnations learned to speak
And lilies into life were brought;
While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.
Then hyacinths their darkest dyes
Upon the locks of Beauty threw;
And violets transformed to eyes
Inshrined a soul within their blue.
CHORUS.
Blest be Love to whom we owe,
All that's fair and bright below.
Song was cold and Painting dim
Till Song and Painting learned from him.
* * * * *
Soon as the scene had closed, a cheer
Of gentle voices old and young
Rose from the groups that stood to hear
This tale of yore so aptly sung;
And while some nymphs in haste to tell
The workers of that fairy spell
How crowned with praise their task had been
Stole in behind the curtained scene,
The rest in happy converse strayed--
Talking that ancient love-tale o'er--
Some to the groves that skirt the glade,
Some to the chapel by the shore,
To look what lights were on the sea.
And think of the absent silently.
But soon that summons known so well
Thro' bower and hall in Eastern lands,
Whose sound more sure than gong or bell
Lovers and slaves alike commands,--
The clapping of young female hands,
Calls back the groups from rock and field
To see some new-formed scene revealed;--
And fleet and eager down the slopes
Of the green glades like antelopes
When in their thirst they hear the sound
Of distant rills, the light nymphs bound.
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