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Poem
March 5, 1791
Gazette Of The United States
New York, New York County, New York
What is this article about?
A personal lyric ode dated Feb. 28, where the speaker awakens to grief and stormy weather, laments the loss of fancy's comforting illusions of idyllic nature, and reflects on a widowed heart amid tempests symbolizing inner turmoil.
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OCR Quality
95%
Excellent
Full Text
FOR THE GAZETTE OF THE UNITED STATES.
MR. FENNO,
As you were once so obliging as to tolerate the effusions of my rustic Muse, and invite the continuation of them, enclosing the copy of a little Ode to you, needs no apology.
A LYRIC ODE.—Feb. 28.
From dreams I wake to real woe,
While winds from every quarter blow,
And urge the beating rain;
I'll leave my pillow, steep'd in tears,
And try to dissipate my cares
With my sweet lyre again.
Ah! where is fancy's magic power,
That us'd to charm each dreary hour,
And gild the darkest storm?
Ev'n in the howling of the wind,
Soft plaintive murmurs she could find,
Breath'd by some airy form!
Oft has she borne me on her wing,
To climes that know eternal spring,
To sweet Arcadian vales;
To where the violets fragrant breath,
Perfumes unseen the desert heath,
With aromatic gales.
To groves whose dark embrowning shades,
Skirted with ever-verdant meads,
And woodbine mantled round;
With streams, whose velvet margins bear,
The blushing rose, and lily fair,
Spontaneous on the ground.
But now no more her presence cheers;
Her wand no soft enchantment rears,
To soothe my heart-felt pain:
How loud the tempests horrid roar,
I see the wrecks on every shore,
And hear the dying strain!
My mind congenial with the gloom,
That hides fair nature's brightest bloom,
Welcomes contending storms;
Sad emblem of the griefs that prey,
And waste my widowed heart away,
In retrospective forms.
MR. FENNO,
As you were once so obliging as to tolerate the effusions of my rustic Muse, and invite the continuation of them, enclosing the copy of a little Ode to you, needs no apology.
A LYRIC ODE.—Feb. 28.
From dreams I wake to real woe,
While winds from every quarter blow,
And urge the beating rain;
I'll leave my pillow, steep'd in tears,
And try to dissipate my cares
With my sweet lyre again.
Ah! where is fancy's magic power,
That us'd to charm each dreary hour,
And gild the darkest storm?
Ev'n in the howling of the wind,
Soft plaintive murmurs she could find,
Breath'd by some airy form!
Oft has she borne me on her wing,
To climes that know eternal spring,
To sweet Arcadian vales;
To where the violets fragrant breath,
Perfumes unseen the desert heath,
With aromatic gales.
To groves whose dark embrowning shades,
Skirted with ever-verdant meads,
And woodbine mantled round;
With streams, whose velvet margins bear,
The blushing rose, and lily fair,
Spontaneous on the ground.
But now no more her presence cheers;
Her wand no soft enchantment rears,
To soothe my heart-felt pain:
How loud the tempests horrid roar,
I see the wrecks on every shore,
And hear the dying strain!
My mind congenial with the gloom,
That hides fair nature's brightest bloom,
Welcomes contending storms;
Sad emblem of the griefs that prey,
And waste my widowed heart away,
In retrospective forms.
What sub-type of article is it?
Ode
What themes does it cover?
Death Mourning
Nature Seasons
What keywords are associated?
Lyric Ode
Personal Grief
Widowed Heart
Fancy Power
Stormy Woe
Arcadian Vales
Tempests Roar
Poem Details
Title
A Lyric Ode.
Subject
Feb. 28.
Key Lines
From Dreams I Wake To Real Woe,
While Winds From Every Quarter Blow,
And Urge The Beating Rain;
Ah! Where Is Fancy's Magic Power,
That Us'd To Charm Each Dreary Hour,
And Gild The Darkest Storm?
Sad Emblem Of The Griefs That Prey,
And Waste My Widowed Heart Away,
In Retrospective Forms.