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To Philenia
To Philenia,
on a Stanza in her Address to Myra

Thy “bosom bankrupt,” fair Peru divine,
Of every mental gem, that e’er has shone,
In dazzled Fancy’s intellectual mine,
Or ever spangled Virtue’s radiant zone!

Thy “bosom bankrupt” ! – Nature, sooner far,
Shall roll, exhausted, flowerless springs away,
Leave the broad eye of noon without a ray,
And strip the path to heaven of every star.

Thy “bosom bankrupt” ! – Ah! those sorrows cease
Which taught us how to weep, and how admire;
The tear that falls to soothe thy wounded peace,
With rapture glistens o’er thy matchless lyre.

Ind and Golconda, in one firm combined,
Shall sooner bankrupt than Philenia’s mind.

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