To the Patron of Positive House
As to full size the broad balloon distends
When thro’ soft tubes phlogistic air ascends,
Swell’d by the breath of rarest praise, shall rise
Thy fame, great Viscount, soaring to the skies!
Alas, in youth and hope’s elysian noon,
Soft Cupid launch’d me in his silk balloon;
Cut the frail cords by feeble Prudence tied,
And left me floating — Fate or Chance my guide.
Till from my sphere by envious whirlwinds hurl’d
I fell, all tatters, to the lower world!
But now, my Lord, from hostile tempests far,
I rise again in your aerial car;
Drawn by your science from this mundane sphere
Again celestial music thrills my ear:
Supernal scenes of nameless bliss I see,
The realm of love, the feast of liberty!
Not that cold love to frozen worldlings known,
Red tape his fetters and a frog his throne;
Which strives in nooks and shallow pools to stay,
Croaks at a cloud and hops in haste away; —
But that strange rapture — that delicious spell
Too sweet to suffer — too sublime to tell —
Which bids us gaze, groan — quiver and adore —
O my soul swoons — and I can say no more!
Rodelinda Delphine Stormont