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249
SUPPLEMENTARY GLEANINGS,
Collected, in the Years 1782 and 1783, ON THE WARWICKSHIRE STATION: INCLUDING THE COMMUNICATIONS OF J. MORFITT, Esq.
371
SKETCH OF THE MORAL, PERSONAL, AND DOMESTIC STATE OF THE ARTISANS OF BIRMINGHAM.
486
To the Memory of David Garrick, Who died in the Year 1779, At the Age of 63.
To paint fair Nature, by Divine command,—Her magic pencil in his glowing hand,—
A Shakespeare rose—then, to expand his fame
Wide o'er this “breathing world,” a Garrick came.
Though sunk in death the forms the Poet drew,
The Actor's genius bade them breathe anew:
Though, like the Bard himself, in night they lay,
Immortal Garrick called them back to day:
And, till Eternity, with power sublime,
Shall mark the mortal hour of hoary Time;
Shakespeare and Garrick, like twin stars shall shine,
And Earth irradiate with a beam divine.
490
LINES Written at Stratford-on-Avon.
WHY roves the eye in eager search to see
Whate'er, great Bard, can lead the thoughts to thee;
Why does it hurry from each object new,
That crowds ambitious on the anxious view;
The gaudier domes of Pleasure and of Pride,
And throws them all, as nothing worth, aside?
Why strays wild Vision till it finds the spot,
Where stands that poor, but consecrated cot;
Where humble parents blest a lowly birth,
That since has fill'd with fame thy natal earth?
There, charm'd and aw'd, why does th'enraptur'd sight
Fix, with mute wonder and a fond delight,
On things uncouth, and old, and objects mean,
That bears the marks of what Thine eye has seen?
Whatever Nature's darling might recal,
Thy natal habitation, coarse and small;
Its crumbling brick-work, mix'd with black'ning wood,
And ev'n the ground whereon the dwelling stood;
In better days, when Fame and Fortune smil'd,
And strove which most should bless their fav'rite child?
Whate'er, great Bard, can lead the thoughts to thee;
Why does it hurry from each object new,
That crowds ambitious on the anxious view;
The gaudier domes of Pleasure and of Pride,
And throws them all, as nothing worth, aside?
Why strays wild Vision till it finds the spot,
Where stands that poor, but consecrated cot;
Where humble parents blest a lowly birth,
That since has fill'd with fame thy natal earth?
There, charm'd and aw'd, why does th'enraptur'd sight
Fix, with mute wonder and a fond delight,
On things uncouth, and old, and objects mean,
That bears the marks of what Thine eye has seen?
Whatever Nature's darling might recal,
Thy natal habitation, coarse and small;
Its crumbling brick-work, mix'd with black'ning wood,
And ev'n the ground whereon the dwelling stood;
In better days, when Fame and Fortune smil'd,
And strove which most should bless their fav'rite child?
And last, though not least dear to every age,
His honour'd tomb! say, why do these engage
The passenger?—O, sacred GENIUS tell!
For thine the magic, thine the wonderous spell.
'Tis not from love of venerable things,
The bones of heroes, and the dust of kings;
These may in dark oblivious silence rot,
The truncheon and the sceptre both forgot;
'Tis deathless Genius, with a force divine;
Our homage claims, and draws us to its shrine.
His honour'd tomb! say, why do these engage
491
For thine the magic, thine the wonderous spell.
'Tis not from love of venerable things,
The bones of heroes, and the dust of kings;
These may in dark oblivious silence rot,
The truncheon and the sceptre both forgot;
'Tis deathless Genius, with a force divine;
Our homage claims, and draws us to its shrine.
520
WARWICK-CASTLE.
AN IMITATION.
IMPERIAL structure! whose protracted shade
First tells the Sun is rising in the glade:
And as at eve he sinks from mortal sight,
Thy towers sublime more awful make the night:
All hail! long mayest thou sacred hold thy name
For blest Philanthropy, as erst for Fame!
First tells the Sun is rising in the glade:
And as at eve he sinks from mortal sight,
Thy towers sublime more awful make the night:
All hail! long mayest thou sacred hold thy name
For blest Philanthropy, as erst for Fame!
Time was, when savage ardour, bold emprize—
And victors bleeding, rent the offended skies,—
When emblems rude, emboss'd the seven-fold shield,
With deeds heroic in the embattled field:—
When Warwick's Hall, with captur'd arms was hung,
And barb'rous songs in dissonance were sung:
And whilst prophetic bards, to foes adverse,
Their Gods invok'd, in many a runic verse,
—When dauntless Guy, with strength and virtue fraught,
Brought the proud Giant of the Danes to nought.
And victors bleeding, rent the offended skies,—
When emblems rude, emboss'd the seven-fold shield,
With deeds heroic in the embattled field:—
When Warwick's Hall, with captur'd arms was hung,
And barb'rous songs in dissonance were sung:
And whilst prophetic bards, to foes adverse,
Their Gods invok'd, in many a runic verse,
—When dauntless Guy, with strength and virtue fraught,
Brought the proud Giant of the Danes to nought.
Days so terrific happily are o'er—
Alecto rears her snaky crest no more!
No morning parole, nor eve's counter sign
Now steals in confidence along the line;
Nor watchful sentries grateful tidings tell,
In slow, though solemn sounds that—“All is well.”
Alecto rears her snaky crest no more!
No morning parole, nor eve's counter sign
Now steals in confidence along the line;
Nor watchful sentries grateful tidings tell,
In slow, though solemn sounds that—“All is well.”
These walls, that long the rage of war have stood,
And witness'd thousands lavish of their blood,
Shall stand, so Heaven approve, for ages hence,
Th'unrivall'd fortress of Benevolence.
And witness'd thousands lavish of their blood,
Shall stand, so Heaven approve, for ages hence,
Th'unrivall'd fortress of Benevolence.
557
[“The Muse, first kneeling at Compassion's shrine]
“The Muse, first kneeling at Compassion's shrine,
Her opening lay, HUMANITY, is thine!
Thee she invokes, oh! soother of distress,
Who with our kindness wove our happiness;
For as thy circling virtues round us move,
From our best deeds thy brightest joys we prove,
Oft as our neighbour sinks in sudden grief,
Thou wak'st as sudden to afford relief.
Oft as the stranger's bosom heaves with sighs,
Thy soft responses in our bosoms rise;
The cries of terror, and the throes of care,
The groan of mis'ry, and distraction's glare,
Sickness that droops, disease that gasps for breath,
The howl of madness and the shrieks of death,
Deep sounds of agony that most afright,
Dread views of horror that most blast the sight,
Dire as they are, like wond'rous magnets draw,
And own, HUMANITY, thy sacred law.
Her opening lay, HUMANITY, is thine!
Thee she invokes, oh! soother of distress,
Who with our kindness wove our happiness;
For as thy circling virtues round us move,
From our best deeds thy brightest joys we prove,
Oft as our neighbour sinks in sudden grief,
Thou wak'st as sudden to afford relief.
Oft as the stranger's bosom heaves with sighs,
Thy soft responses in our bosoms rise;
The cries of terror, and the throes of care,
The groan of mis'ry, and distraction's glare,
Sickness that droops, disease that gasps for breath,
The howl of madness and the shrieks of death,
Deep sounds of agony that most afright,
Dread views of horror that most blast the sight,
Dire as they are, like wond'rous magnets draw,
And own, HUMANITY, thy sacred law.
And oh! 'tis thine, when vital breath seems fled,
To seek the awful confines of the dead.
Beneath the billow though the victim lies,
Thy dauntless zeal the roaring main defies.
Inspired by him, whose hallow'd touch restor'd
The darling son the widow's soul deplor'd,
'Twas thine her breast to ease of dire alarms,
And give the youth to her despairing arms.
Thine too to plunge into the bloating flood,
Clasp the swoll'n frame, and thaw the frozen blood;
Breathe in the lips re-animating fire,
Till, warm'd to second life, the drown'd respire.
To seek the awful confines of the dead.
Beneath the billow though the victim lies,
Thy dauntless zeal the roaring main defies.
Inspired by him, whose hallow'd touch restor'd
The darling son the widow's soul deplor'd,
'Twas thine her breast to ease of dire alarms,
And give the youth to her despairing arms.
Thine too to plunge into the bloating flood,
Clasp the swoll'n frame, and thaw the frozen blood;
Breathe in the lips re-animating fire,
Till, warm'd to second life, the drown'd respire.
558
Hark! as those lips once more begin to move,
What sounds ascend of gratitude and love!
Now with the Great Redeemer's praise they glow,
Then bless the agents of his power below;
New sprung to life, the renovated band,
Joyful before their second Saviours stand;
And oh! far sweeter than the breathing spring,
Fairer than Paradise the wreaths they bring!
The blissful homage rescued friends impart!
Th'enraptur'd incense of a parent's heart,
O'er-aw'd, and wond'ring at themselves, they see
The magic power of soft HUMANITY!
What sounds ascend of gratitude and love!
Now with the Great Redeemer's praise they glow,
Then bless the agents of his power below;
New sprung to life, the renovated band,
Joyful before their second Saviours stand;
And oh! far sweeter than the breathing spring,
Fairer than Paradise the wreaths they bring!
The blissful homage rescued friends impart!
Th'enraptur'd incense of a parent's heart,
O'er-aw'd, and wond'ring at themselves, they see
The magic power of soft HUMANITY!
Humanity, a Poem. 7th Edition.
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