IMAGINATION.

BY N. C. BROOKS, A. M.

O'ER Roman page and Grecian scroll,
And sculptured forms of olden time,
I've pored, 'till rising in my soul,

I've felt the mythic faith sublime,
While Fancy, to the eye of thought,
The deities of old has brought.

Where, through Aonia's laurel shade,
Gush Helicon's immortal waters,
I've marked the magic choirs, where played
Fair Music's soul-enchanting daughters;
And caught the sounds of harp and lyre,
As swept their hands the chords of fire.

The leaf-crowned Dryads of the wood, Disporting through their shades I've seen; And Nereids of the glassy flood,

With floating locks like emeralds green; The bright eyed Sylvans, and the Fauns, And Satyrs dancing o'er the lawns.