and join'd the pension'd Train.
But the Muse weeps, and drops the silent tear
O'er the sad truths which were recorded there.
High, in the midst, a Pageant of a Throne
In the extreme of Tinsel Splendor shone.
No Sacred Ensigns, no Imperial Chair,
Mark'd the high worth of those who counseled there;
But, shaded by a Curtain's vivid green,
A splendid, soft, luxuriant Couch was seen.
The spangled Banners glitter'd all around,
And the unfolded Silver strew'd the ground;
While the false Mirrors pain the dazzled eye
With mingled Forms, and gay Perplexity.
Hung from the roof by many a golden thread,
The Canopy its airy cov'ring spread,
Inwove with plumage borrow'd from the wing }
Of India's feather'd Tribe, or those that sing }
'Mid the green woodlands of a Western Spring. }
Before the Throne a splendid Altar stood,
Inlaid, in curious forms, with fragrant wood;
Whereon the faithful Votaries might lay
Their Offerings sacred to the festal day.
Methought, that, tir'd of the disgusting scene,
Fit for Fools only, and their silly Queen,
I sought in haste to leave the inglorious Throng:
But as the pressing Crowd my steps prolong,
The deafening Cymbals, and the noisy brawl
Of pealing Laughter, ecchoed round the Hall.
And strait a troop of dancing Youths appear'd,
Of rosy hue, by friendly BACCHUS chear'd.
The tinkling bells upon their feet they wore;
Each, in his hand, a rural Tabor bore,
Whose sides they frequent beat, and, at the sound,
Aloft in air, with, antic step, they bound.
Next came a blooming Boy in robe of green;
On his fair brow a flowery crown was seen,
Where the pale Primrose with the Cowslip vied,
And fragrant Violets shone in purple pride.
Upon a Bull he rode, whose horns were gay
With many a golden flower and budding spray.
Around him every vernal Songster fled,
While the Lark soar'd and whistled o'er his head.
And now he smil'd with joy, and now, apace,
The crystal tears bedew'd his alter'd face.
Like the young Fondling on his Mother's breast,
Who cries for absent joys, and thinks them best:
'Mid smiles, and tears, and frowns, he onward came,
With gentle pace,--and APRIL was his name.
To him succeeds a light and frolic Train
Of wanton Females, insolent and vain,
Whose cheeks, by Art encrim
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