Poetry > Course of time

BOOK FIRST.
15
In rosy health; to pensive solitude
Retiring oft, as was his wont on earth.
Fit was the place, most fit for holy musing.
Upon a little mount that gently rose,
He sat, clothed in white robes; and o’er his head
A laurel-tree, of lustiest, eldest growth,
Stately and tall, and shadowing far and wide—
Not fruitless, as on earth, but bloomed, and rich
With frequent clusters, ripe to heavenly taste—
Spread its eternal boughs, and in its arms,
A myrtle of unfading leaf embraced.
The rose and lily, fresh with fragrant dew,
And every flower of fairest cheek, around
Him smiling flocked : beneath his feet, fast by
And round his sacred hill, a streamlet walked,
Warbling the holy melodies of heaven.
The hallowed zephyrs brought him incense sweet;
And out before him opened, in prospect long.
The River of Life, in many a winding maze
Descending from the lofty throne of God,
That with excessive glory closed the scene.
Of Adam’s race he was, and lonely sat
By chance that day, in meditation deep,
Reflecting much of Time, and Earth, and Man.
And now to pensive, now to cheerful notes,
He touched a harp of wondrous melody;
A golden harp it was, a precious gift,
Which, at the Day of Judgment, with the crown