 | Occasional Poems |  |
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ON THE WINTER-SOLSTICE.
A Descriptive Poem.
Hail Winter! hail grim tyrant of the North!
How loud thy tempests vex the troubled air,
How vanquish'd Nature groans in deep despair,
As roll'd in sable gloom, thy ruffian bands come forth!
Fierce down the vale thy bellowing storm descends;
Amain big torrents burst; with thunder's roar
The howling winds fatigue the sea-beat shore;
While Night with triple shades and direful fate attends.
Where now gay Flora's op'ning bloom,
And Zephyr breathing rich perfume;
Of Summer bright the jocund train,
And purple Ceres' golden wain?
All these attend the Lord of Day,
Trav'ling his steep ethereal way;
And when he measures back the skies,
With Heaven's effulgence pierc'd, usurping Uproar flies.
How loud thy tempests vex the troubled air,
How vanquish'd Nature groans in deep despair,
As roll'd in sable gloom, thy ruffian bands come forth!
Fierce down the vale thy bellowing storm descends;
Amain big torrents burst; with thunder's roar
The howling winds fatigue the sea-beat shore;
While Night with triple shades and direful fate attends.
Where now gay Flora's op'ning bloom,
And Zephyr breathing rich perfume;
Of Summer bright the jocund train,
And purple Ceres' golden wain?
All these attend the Lord of Day,
Trav'ling his steep ethereal way;
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With Heaven's effulgence pierc'd, usurping Uproar flies.
Then deeper still your dark pavilion spread,
Ye winter-glooms! and from his airy hall
Let Boreas' trump his noisy squadrons call;
With whirlwind, hail, and frost, in his wild empire bred.
Though freezing horrours reign on Zembla's coast;
Though Nature pine beneath the driving snow,
From sad Pezora, to the blissful Po;
Proud storms! ye shall not long your transient conquest boast.
Again the swift revolving year
Hastes, to reverse her long career:
Again returns with genial ray,
From southern climes, the golden day:
Who musing now, with raptur'd eye,
Watches the tumult of the sky,
More joyous, sweeps the trembling lyre;
For Fancy hails young Spring, and bids the storm retire.
Ye winter-glooms! and from his airy hall
Let Boreas' trump his noisy squadrons call;
With whirlwind, hail, and frost, in his wild empire bred.
Though freezing horrours reign on Zembla's coast;
Though Nature pine beneath the driving snow,
From sad Pezora, to the blissful Po;
Proud storms! ye shall not long your transient conquest boast.
Again the swift revolving year
Hastes, to reverse her long career:
Again returns with genial ray,
From southern climes, the golden day:
Who musing now, with raptur'd eye,
Watches the tumult of the sky,
More joyous, sweeps the trembling lyre;
For Fancy hails young Spring, and bids the storm retire.
But hark! the winds have burst th' Æolian caves;
Their force ethereal sweeps the driving clouds:
Loud howls the echoing hill; the groaning woods
Stoop their bare tops, remurm'ring as the tempest raves.
Then fast'ning fierce upon the boiling deep,
Drive mountain-billows, o'er the foaming shore
Of Norway, or Betubium, till the roar
Bounds o'er th' infuriate waves, to Calpes' bellowing steep.
What dreadful fears, what mournful fate
Must then on anxious mortals wait!
The lonely dame, with weeping eyes,
Bewails the stormy seas and skies;
Her Lord is on his wat'ry way,
She hopes, but dreads the long delay;
All day she views the angry deep;
All night she mourns, beset with ghastly forms of sleep.
Their force ethereal sweeps the driving clouds:
Loud howls the echoing hill; the groaning woods
Stoop their bare tops, remurm'ring as the tempest raves.
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Drive mountain-billows, o'er the foaming shore
Of Norway, or Betubium, till the roar
Bounds o'er th' infuriate waves, to Calpes' bellowing steep.
What dreadful fears, what mournful fate
Must then on anxious mortals wait!
The lonely dame, with weeping eyes,
Bewails the stormy seas and skies;
Her Lord is on his wat'ry way,
She hopes, but dreads the long delay;
All day she views the angry deep;
All night she mourns, beset with ghastly forms of sleep.
Mean while the tempests sweep their sounding flight,
O'er heav'n and earth; and in the high-rock'd tow'r
The roaring winds affright the midnight hour;
Or peal a summons dire, along the mountain height.
Ill fare the sailors 'midst the boiling waves;
Aghast to heaven, on horrours brink they ride:
Then swift descending the devouring tide,
They plunge from earth and sky, to Ocean's dreadful caves.
Emerg'd, a desp'rate course they steer,
Beset with death, and chill'd with fear:
Again through raging gulfs they fly,
With liquid mountains compass'd high:
Again they view, with fond surprise,
The wish'd for land, and cheering skies:
For He who bids fierce Ocean roar,
Calms the conflicting brine, and smooths the billowy shore.
O'er heav'n and earth; and in the high-rock'd tow'r
The roaring winds affright the midnight hour;
Or peal a summons dire, along the mountain height.
Ill fare the sailors 'midst the boiling waves;
Aghast to heaven, on horrours brink they ride:
Then swift descending the devouring tide,
They plunge from earth and sky, to Ocean's dreadful caves.
Emerg'd, a desp'rate course they steer,
Beset with death, and chill'd with fear:
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With liquid mountains compass'd high:
Again they view, with fond surprise,
The wish'd for land, and cheering skies:
For He who bids fierce Ocean roar,
Calms the conflicting brine, and smooths the billowy shore.
Then wat'ry Notus from th' Atlantic main,
On toiling wings, a gath'ring deluge pours:
Complains the burthen'd air; the streaming show'rs
Dash o'er the mountain height, and drench the smoking plain.
Swoln rivers rush in their tumultuous pride,
With thund'ring ruin and resistless force;
O'er rocks and mounds, sweep their devouring course,
While Ocean stain'd recoils, from the triumphant tide.
O daring man! why wilt thou haste,
When night invests the pathless waste;
O why wilt thou begone to roam,
Nor ever reach thy pleasing home!
In vain thy smiling race prepare,
And loving wife, thy cheering fare:
In vain they hope thy glad return,
Dire fates prepare thy grave, and bid the widow mourn.
On toiling wings, a gath'ring deluge pours:
Complains the burthen'd air; the streaming show'rs
Dash o'er the mountain height, and drench the smoking plain.
Swoln rivers rush in their tumultuous pride,
With thund'ring ruin and resistless force;
O'er rocks and mounds, sweep their devouring course,
While Ocean stain'd recoils, from the triumphant tide.
O daring man! why wilt thou haste,
When night invests the pathless waste;
O why wilt thou begone to roam,
Nor ever reach thy pleasing home!
In vain thy smiling race prepare,
And loving wife, thy cheering fare:
In vain they hope thy glad return,
Dire fates prepare thy grave, and bid the widow mourn.
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How winter changes, while his blust'ring host
With vary'd plagues deform the conquer'd year;
Arresting tempests in their mad career,
From polar hills descend the pow'rs of fixing frost.
Then icy chains th' indignant streams restrain,
And Ocean mourns his ever-toiling waves,
Transfix'd with frost, through all their northern caves;
Far as wild Finland's gulf, or the proud Baltic main.
Then drives, with an incessant flow,
Through the dun air the flaky snow;
Hides the dire cliff, the faithless floods,
And buries half the sinking woods.
And oft descends the prowling train
Of howling wolves, to vex the plain:
On bloodshed bent, the barb'rous cry
Sounds horrour through the vale, while Alpine hills reply.
With vary'd plagues deform the conquer'd year;
Arresting tempests in their mad career,
From polar hills descend the pow'rs of fixing frost.
Then icy chains th' indignant streams restrain,
And Ocean mourns his ever-toiling waves,
Transfix'd with frost, through all their northern caves;
Far as wild Finland's gulf, or the proud Baltic main.
Then drives, with an incessant flow,
Through the dun air the flaky snow;
Hides the dire cliff, the faithless floods,
And buries half the sinking woods.
And oft descends the prowling train
Of howling wolves, to vex the plain:
On bloodshed bent, the barb'rous cry
Sounds horrour through the vale, while Alpine hills reply.
Where Lapland droops beneath her dreary night,
In whirling sleds urg'd on by fleet rain-deer,
To northern fairs, a daring course they steer;
While round the glaring pole the starry fires shine bright.
To pastime on the smooth expanse of frost,
Fam'd Scandia's lords with barb'rous pomp arrive;
Swift round and round, in circling race, they drive
With their rebounding cars, in fierce contention tost.
Nor less bold Russians cease to go,
O'er hills and dales smooth'd up with snow;
Where chain'd in frost, vast Oby raves
In vain, to free his struggling waves:
There annual marts strange merchants throng,
The Turk and Tartar pour along,
Till, flying from the freezing wind,
In winter-caverns sleep the last of human kind.
In whirling sleds urg'd on by fleet rain-deer,
To northern fairs, a daring course they steer;
While round the glaring pole the starry fires shine bright.
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Fam'd Scandia's lords with barb'rous pomp arrive;
Swift round and round, in circling race, they drive
With their rebounding cars, in fierce contention tost.
Nor less bold Russians cease to go,
O'er hills and dales smooth'd up with snow;
Where chain'd in frost, vast Oby raves
In vain, to free his struggling waves:
There annual marts strange merchants throng,
The Turk and Tartar pour along,
Till, flying from the freezing wind,
In winter-caverns sleep the last of human kind.
Nor can the Muse, though bold her flight, deny,
While half our world complains of driving storm,
To sing what plagues the polar South deform;
What horrours dire, unknown, may vex th' antartic sky.
When northern climes returning summers hail,
There heavy darkness holds her dreary reign:
There, on the troubled deep and ravag'd plain,
Fell Whirlwind, Fire, and Snow, with Thunder's voice prevail.
Ill fated he who tempts the shore,
That Britain's daring navy tore;
When caught on Winter's raging main,
Bold Anson's art was all in vain:
Where dreadful storms defend the coast,
Of burning flame, and starving frost;
Infernal plagues and horrours dire,
To guard forbidden climes, and damp Ambition's fire.
While half our world complains of driving storm,
To sing what plagues the polar South deform;
What horrours dire, unknown, may vex th' antartic sky.
When northern climes returning summers hail,
There heavy darkness holds her dreary reign:
There, on the troubled deep and ravag'd plain,
Fell Whirlwind, Fire, and Snow, with Thunder's voice prevail.
Ill fated he who tempts the shore,
That Britain's daring navy tore;
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Bold Anson's art was all in vain:
Where dreadful storms defend the coast,
Of burning flame, and starving frost;
Infernal plagues and horrours dire,
To guard forbidden climes, and damp Ambition's fire.
Then glad returning o'er the wat'ry waste,
Where burning suns afflict the torrid zone,
The Muse attends the panting Indian's groan;
Or marks what fierce extremes the weary realms molest.
Now, while the polar regions starve in frost,
His fervid limbs, the swarthy Æthiop laves
In Niger; and with all his swelling waves,
Loud Orellana toils, to cool his sun-burnt coast.
O lands unbless'd! where fev'rish strife
Embroils the purple tide of life:
Where banish'd from the breezy North,
Devouring Pest'lence oft walks forth:
Where Freedom's joys are sought in vain,
While savage tyrants sternly reign;
And never heard, their subjects cry,
As vex'd beneath the scourge, of their inclement sky.
Where burning suns afflict the torrid zone,
The Muse attends the panting Indian's groan;
Or marks what fierce extremes the weary realms molest.
Now, while the polar regions starve in frost,
His fervid limbs, the swarthy Æthiop laves
In Niger; and with all his swelling waves,
Loud Orellana toils, to cool his sun-burnt coast.
O lands unbless'd! where fev'rish strife
Embroils the purple tide of life:
Where banish'd from the breezy North,
Devouring Pest'lence oft walks forth:
Where Freedom's joys are sought in vain,
While savage tyrants sternly reign;
And never heard, their subjects cry,
As vex'd beneath the scourge, of their inclement sky.
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Still on, the Muse her soaring flight explores,
Surpassing Fez, and the Barbaric strand;
To where high bounding fam'd Iberia's land,
Pyrenean rocks detain foil'd Winter's weary stores.
Descending swell'd with half Helvetia's snow,
Through noble realms rolls wide the rushing Rhine:.
And branching round along the Belgian brine,
For many a league congeal'd, his urn forgets to flow.
Then jovial crouds the river hide,
Of young and old, that swiftly glide
On sounding skates, in wand'ring maze,
Mix'd and convolv'd a thousand ways.
The merchant skims the gelid plain,
In quest of tidings from the main;
To market swifter than the wind,
Scours on the buxom maid, nor leaves one trace behind.
Surpassing Fez, and the Barbaric strand;
To where high bounding fam'd Iberia's land,
Pyrenean rocks detain foil'd Winter's weary stores.
Descending swell'd with half Helvetia's snow,
Through noble realms rolls wide the rushing Rhine:.
And branching round along the Belgian brine,
For many a league congeal'd, his urn forgets to flow.
Then jovial crouds the river hide,
Of young and old, that swiftly glide
On sounding skates, in wand'ring maze,
Mix'd and convolv'd a thousand ways.
The merchant skims the gelid plain,
In quest of tidings from the main;
To market swifter than the wind,
Scours on the buxom maid, nor leaves one trace behind.
Hail Albion! hail! whose chalky cliffs arise
With native charms, to claim thy poet's rhyme:
No polar rage deforms thy milder clime;
No freezing horrours pierce, beneath thy clement skies.
While cruel seasons damp the noble train
Of social virtues, and the patriot's flame;
Thee Heav'n hath warm'd to deeds of civil fame,
Fost'ring her precious gem, set in the silver main.
Gladly I hail thy peopled plains,
Where ever-smiling Freedom reigns:
Thy groves, that ever verdant wave,
Where Thames his blissful shores does lave:
Thy hills, and promontories high,
That gently steal into the sky:
Thy native oak, hung o'er the steep,
To rear thy naval pride, the terrour of the deep.
With native charms, to claim thy poet's rhyme:
No polar rage deforms thy milder clime;
No freezing horrours pierce, beneath thy clement skies.
While cruel seasons damp the noble train
Of social virtues, and the patriot's flame;
Thee Heav'n hath warm'd to deeds of civil fame,
Fost'ring her precious gem, set in the silver main.
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Where ever-smiling Freedom reigns:
Thy groves, that ever verdant wave,
Where Thames his blissful shores does lave:
Thy hills, and promontories high,
That gently steal into the sky:
Thy native oak, hung o'er the steep,
To rear thy naval pride, the terrour of the deep.
Though pil'd his freezing horrours to the clouds,
Old Winter reign through utmost Thule's land,
Yet visiting fair Albion's winding strand,
Each frowning aspect stern, the hoary Anarch shrouds.
His billowing storms and wild misrule confin'd
With chains of rock, along the howling main;
Here loos'ning Influence mild, with golden rein
He curbs dread Caurus' rage, and Boreas' blust'ring wind.
Bless'd isle! where kindly seasons cheer,
With light and warmth, the falling year:
Where frost does life and virtue yield,
To store the air, and clothe the field:
Whose vig'rous clime, with strong embrace,
For battle moulds a hardy race;
While, o'er thy subject waves, is hurl'd,
Like Heav'n's, thy thund'ring storm, to shake a guilty world.
Old Winter reign through utmost Thule's land,
Yet visiting fair Albion's winding strand,
Each frowning aspect stern, the hoary Anarch shrouds.
His billowing storms and wild misrule confin'd
With chains of rock, along the howling main;
Here loos'ning Influence mild, with golden rein
He curbs dread Caurus' rage, and Boreas' blust'ring wind.
Bless'd isle! where kindly seasons cheer,
With light and warmth, the falling year:
Where frost does life and virtue yield,
To store the air, and clothe the field:
Whose vig'rous clime, with strong embrace,
For battle moulds a hardy race;
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Like Heav'n's, thy thund'ring storm, to shake a guilty world.
And yet, sometimes, the wand'ring Winter stoops
To rest his flagging wings on Britain's isle:
Then o'er the whit'ning vale and swelling hill,
Winnows the feather'd snow, and burthen'd Nature droops.
Succeeds the short-liv'd frost, the transient gleam
Of feeble Winter: o'er the marshy flood
Ice-bound the village swarms; while bawling loud
Through the long freezing night, complains the bick'ring stream.
All hush'd the warblers of the spring,
With screaming voice, and flapping wing,
The sea-fowl urge their soaring flight;
To pass in shades the cheerless night.
In thickets warm the woodcocks hide,
And all the lonely foreign tribe,
That shelt'ring here with wild surprise,
And sadly-wailing notes, see native storms arise.
To rest his flagging wings on Britain's isle:
Then o'er the whit'ning vale and swelling hill,
Winnows the feather'd snow, and burthen'd Nature droops.
Succeeds the short-liv'd frost, the transient gleam
Of feeble Winter: o'er the marshy flood
Ice-bound the village swarms; while bawling loud
Through the long freezing night, complains the bick'ring stream.
All hush'd the warblers of the spring,
With screaming voice, and flapping wing,
The sea-fowl urge their soaring flight;
To pass in shades the cheerless night.
In thickets warm the woodcocks hide,
And all the lonely foreign tribe,
That shelt'ring here with wild surprise,
And sadly-wailing notes, see native storms arise.
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Then tend, ye rural swains, with watchful eye,
Your flocks, and pile with bounteous hand the fold:
For as with whirlwinds wing the tempests hold
Their deathful course, deep whelm'd the panting bleaters die.
And O ye Great! bless'd with the Godlike pow'r
Of blessing thousands, cast upon your care;
O haste to cheer the gloom of sad Despair,
To close Affliction's wound, and gild her darkest hour.
Nor shun the poor's unbless'd retreat,
Where Death and Famine sternly wait:
The sighs of Worth neglected hear:
Wipe female Virtue's falling tear:
On shiv'ring age, and infant wo
Your deeds of charity bestow:
So when to Heav'n the friendless cry,
Like Heav'n your bounties flow, and all their wants supply.
Your flocks, and pile with bounteous hand the fold:
For as with whirlwinds wing the tempests hold
Their deathful course, deep whelm'd the panting bleaters die.
And O ye Great! bless'd with the Godlike pow'r
Of blessing thousands, cast upon your care;
O haste to cheer the gloom of sad Despair,
To close Affliction's wound, and gild her darkest hour.
Nor shun the poor's unbless'd retreat,
Where Death and Famine sternly wait:
The sighs of Worth neglected hear:
Wipe female Virtue's falling tear:
On shiv'ring age, and infant wo
Your deeds of charity bestow:
So when to Heav'n the friendless cry,
Like Heav'n your bounties flow, and all their wants supply.
With sinking steps, along the shining waste
Of new-fallen snow, the wand'ring fowlers stalk;
Or through the shaggy hill, and forest-walk,
With fiery deaths pursue the ring-doves flying haste.
Oft as the gaudy pheasant mounts the skies,
With painted wings, he feels the fatal wound:
Oft as the corm'rant wheels with screaming sound,
He stains his plumes in blood, and welt'ring woful dies.
Dire sport, with murder to invade
The gentlest tenants of the shade!
The blackbird, lark, and linnet throng,
Repay thee with their annual song,
Thee, ruthless man: what furies move
Thy soul, to rob the tuneful grove:
Inhuman thou! with cruel snare
Destroying what fierce storms and savage tempests spare.
Of new-fallen snow, the wand'ring fowlers stalk;
Or through the shaggy hill, and forest-walk,
With fiery deaths pursue the ring-doves flying haste.
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With painted wings, he feels the fatal wound:
Oft as the corm'rant wheels with screaming sound,
He stains his plumes in blood, and welt'ring woful dies.
Dire sport, with murder to invade
The gentlest tenants of the shade!
The blackbird, lark, and linnet throng,
Repay thee with their annual song,
Thee, ruthless man: what furies move
Thy soul, to rob the tuneful grove:
Inhuman thou! with cruel snare
Destroying what fierce storms and savage tempests spare.
Broad o'er the south the glaring lamp of day
Shines faint: and soon fast-closing shades of night
Darkling prevail; till crown'd with silver light,
Through spangled skies, the moon smiles sweet with orient ray.
Thus passes human life, a transient gleam;
Bright with fond rising Hope, and Folly's pride;
But soon eclips'd like winter-suns, the tide
Of glory vain is fled, like a deceitful dream.
Where now Ambition's restless fire,
That wont our youthful days inspire;
That thirst for gain, that lust for praise,
The springs that move man's bustling days?
Where now, ye croud of hopes, and fears,
All bright with joy, or sad with tears?
Faith sums the whole, with conscious eye,
Lost, as a scanty drop, in heav'n's immensity.
Shines faint: and soon fast-closing shades of night
Darkling prevail; till crown'd with silver light,
Through spangled skies, the moon smiles sweet with orient ray.
Thus passes human life, a transient gleam;
Bright with fond rising Hope, and Folly's pride;
But soon eclips'd like winter-suns, the tide
Of glory vain is fled, like a deceitful dream.
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That wont our youthful days inspire;
That thirst for gain, that lust for praise,
The springs that move man's bustling days?
Where now, ye croud of hopes, and fears,
All bright with joy, or sad with tears?
Faith sums the whole, with conscious eye,
Lost, as a scanty drop, in heav'n's immensity.
Father of heav'n and earth! who bid the light
Of radiant Truth, sprung from thy sov'reign Mind,
Rise on the dark abodes of human-kind,
To chase the shades of Hell, as morn dispels the night:
O teach me rais'd, the noblest use of life,
To follow where thy Wisdom points the way,
To public virtues; where, with piercing ray,
Thy word constrains the soul, and quells wild passions' strife.
Teach me, superiour, to despise
Low Vice, though rob'd in Virtue's guise;
Of Sloth to burst th' ignoble chain,
And shun gay Pleasure's tempting train;
To feed the mind with Wisdom's store,
With conscious peace, and virtue pure:
So shall the glorious morn arise,
And Life awak'ning hail the trumpet of the skies.
Of radiant Truth, sprung from thy sov'reign Mind,
Rise on the dark abodes of human-kind,
To chase the shades of Hell, as morn dispels the night:
O teach me rais'd, the noblest use of life,
To follow where thy Wisdom points the way,
To public virtues; where, with piercing ray,
Thy word constrains the soul, and quells wild passions' strife.
Teach me, superiour, to despise
Low Vice, though rob'd in Virtue's guise;
Of Sloth to burst th' ignoble chain,
And shun gay Pleasure's tempting train;
To feed the mind with Wisdom's store,
With conscious peace, and virtue pure:
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And Life awak'ning hail the trumpet of the skies.
Now throng'd, Augusta pours her noble train
Of Patriots, bent to raise with great design,
Their country's good; from Albion's utmost line,
To her vast empire thron'd beside th' Atlantic main.
To hail their royal Sire, in festive hour,
They haste as princes on some solemn day,
Around their mighty sov'reign homage pay;
And prop the public cause, by their confed'rate pow'r.
Great soul! that animates the realm;
That guides in darkest nights the helm
Of Britain's weal; 'tis thine to raise
A kingdom's int'rest; thine the praise
The joys of freedom to impart;
The gifts of trade, and peaceful art:
Till wide the voice of gladness sound,
From fruitful Thames, as far as Caledonia's bound.
Of Patriots, bent to raise with great design,
Their country's good; from Albion's utmost line,
To her vast empire thron'd beside th' Atlantic main.
To hail their royal Sire, in festive hour,
They haste as princes on some solemn day,
Around their mighty sov'reign homage pay;
And prop the public cause, by their confed'rate pow'r.
Great soul! that animates the realm;
That guides in darkest nights the helm
Of Britain's weal; 'tis thine to raise
A kingdom's int'rest; thine the praise
The joys of freedom to impart;
The gifts of trade, and peaceful art:
Till wide the voice of gladness sound,
From fruitful Thames, as far as Caledonia's bound.
Through crouded streets the city pours along;
While, ever restless all the live-long day,
The busy Merchant plods his thoughtful way,
Where Momus' gainful tribe with eager faces throng.
At eve, sweet Converse and the gen'rous bowl
Join Friendship's train, and bid dull cares retire:
While love of game and pleasure fans the fire,
Which first allures, distracts, then sinks th' ignoble soul.
Then happy they, who raptur'd hear
Such strains as charm the British ear:
When moral Shakespear's moving tale
Does o'er the willing soul prevail:
Rous'd by the scene, dread terrours round
Invade the throng; with magic sound
Fair Pity wakes the human sigh,
And Virtue brighter shows, in ev'ry tearful eye.
While, ever restless all the live-long day,
The busy Merchant plods his thoughtful way,
Where Momus' gainful tribe with eager faces throng.
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Join Friendship's train, and bid dull cares retire:
While love of game and pleasure fans the fire,
Which first allures, distracts, then sinks th' ignoble soul.
Then happy they, who raptur'd hear
Such strains as charm the British ear:
When moral Shakespear's moving tale
Does o'er the willing soul prevail:
Rous'd by the scene, dread terrours round
Invade the throng; with magic sound
Fair Pity wakes the human sigh,
And Virtue brighter shows, in ev'ry tearful eye.
Or where sweet Music winds her jovial strain,
Up springs the sprightly dance, in wand'ring maze;
While beam'd from sparkling eyes, his torches blaze,
Love waves his purple wing, and kills with pleasing pain.
Or will the Muse attend the lofty sounds,
While waking warblings sweet, the tuneful Nine
According lyres, and heav'nly voices join;
Till, like th' harmonious sphere, Cecilia's dome rebounds.
But hark, for the melodious train
Awaken Handel's soaring strain:
Resounds the lyre, the sprightly note
Bursts from the rousing trumpets throat:
The vocal choir, and trebles high
Waft kindling Fancy to the sky:
For to th' immortal bard is giv'n,
To plunge the soul in woes, or mount in joys to heav'n.
Up springs the sprightly dance, in wand'ring maze;
While beam'd from sparkling eyes, his torches blaze,
Love waves his purple wing, and kills with pleasing pain.
Or will the Muse attend the lofty sounds,
While waking warblings sweet, the tuneful Nine
According lyres, and heav'nly voices join;
Till, like th' harmonious sphere, Cecilia's dome rebounds.
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Awaken Handel's soaring strain:
Resounds the lyre, the sprightly note
Bursts from the rousing trumpets throat:
The vocal choir, and trebles high
Waft kindling Fancy to the sky:
For to th' immortal bard is giv'n,
To plunge the soul in woes, or mount in joys to heav'n.
In crouding cities thus glad nights consume;
While loud carousing in his antique hall,
The happy 'squire bids feast, and rural ball,
Full cups, and blazing fires, dispel the wintergloom.
Loud rings the genial roof, as bless'd they raise
The voice of conscious freedom; never known
Where tyrants frown; here ev'ry grace full blown,
She reigns in native pride, and sounds fair England's praise.
Or where the village-matron plies
Her task, amaze with wild surprise,
The hasty closing circle hears
Of story'd ghosts, and midnight fears;
Of plagues that come by witches spell;
Of grisly shapes, with passing bell
At sick man's door; a horrid tale
To awe the rustic tribe, while chilling fears prevail.
While loud carousing in his antique hall,
The happy 'squire bids feast, and rural ball,
Full cups, and blazing fires, dispel the wintergloom.
Loud rings the genial roof, as bless'd they raise
The voice of conscious freedom; never known
Where tyrants frown; here ev'ry grace full blown,
She reigns in native pride, and sounds fair England's praise.
Or where the village-matron plies
Her task, amaze with wild surprise,
The hasty closing circle hears
Of story'd ghosts, and midnight fears;
17
Of grisly shapes, with passing bell
At sick man's door; a horrid tale
To awe the rustic tribe, while chilling fears prevail.
Awaken'd by the solemn changeful year,
Now, heav'nly musing, the rapt soul inspires;
And swifter than those ever-waking fires
That nightly shine, ascends the steep harmonious sphere.
There soaring Fancy wings her daring flight
Amid those golden cars, that ever trace
Around the Sun; while glorying in his race,
On them the parent orb directs his radiance bright.
Rapt she adores the moving Soul
Who rules and guides the mighty Whole:
Who pours the wat'ry Pleiades urn,
Or bids the bands of Orion burn:
Who steers fam'd Argos' radiant way,
Or slow Bootes' northern ray;
Or bids Arcturus' fires appear,
Eclips'd with rainy clouds, to cool the sultry year.
Now, heav'nly musing, the rapt soul inspires;
And swifter than those ever-waking fires
That nightly shine, ascends the steep harmonious sphere.
There soaring Fancy wings her daring flight
Amid those golden cars, that ever trace
Around the Sun; while glorying in his race,
On them the parent orb directs his radiance bright.
Rapt she adores the moving Soul
Who rules and guides the mighty Whole:
Who pours the wat'ry Pleiades urn,
Or bids the bands of Orion burn:
Who steers fam'd Argos' radiant way,
Or slow Bootes' northern ray;
Or bids Arcturus' fires appear,
Eclips'd with rainy clouds, to cool the sultry year.
18
Then, pleas'd with her ambitious course, she flies
Through the fix'd stars; sees round each blazing sun
Unnumber'd systems in their journey run,
To gild th' extended space of yet untravel'd skies.
Or tends the rapid comet in his flight;
Returning dread from Heav'n's most distant pole,
He wheels the centre like a fiery goal;
Then flies again to vex the realms of ancient Night.
Great Nature! workmanship divine,
What human thought can trace thy line!
Fair Idea of th' eternal Mind,
How glorious He who first design'd
Thy glorious frame! sole great and good,
When shall his ways be understood!
His works since hid through Nature's bound,
How shall Heav'n's Architect, himself unsearchable, be found?
Through the fix'd stars; sees round each blazing sun
Unnumber'd systems in their journey run,
To gild th' extended space of yet untravel'd skies.
Or tends the rapid comet in his flight;
Returning dread from Heav'n's most distant pole,
He wheels the centre like a fiery goal;
Then flies again to vex the realms of ancient Night.
Great Nature! workmanship divine,
What human thought can trace thy line!
Fair Idea of th' eternal Mind,
How glorious He who first design'd
Thy glorious frame! sole great and good,
When shall his ways be understood!
His works since hid through Nature's bound,
How shall Heav'n's Architect, himself unsearchable, be found?
Now, while without the louring tempests show'r
Fierce rattling hail, or soft descending snow,
While wailing owls rehearse their songs of wo,
'Tis thine, Philosophy, to grace the happy midnight hour.
Gladly with thee, my heav'nly guide, I soar
On ventrous wing, beyond the solar ray;
And following safe thy more celestial day,
My course through secret depths of heav'n and earth explore.
To mark how the Almighty reins
His pond'rous orbs, in golden chains;
And the attracted planets run,
In mystic dance, around the sun;
That whirling on his fiery pole,
Resists the hurrying spheres control;
And rules wide from his central throne,
Beyond the glare of Mars, or Saturn's radiant zone.
Fierce rattling hail, or soft descending snow,
While wailing owls rehearse their songs of wo,
'Tis thine, Philosophy, to grace the happy midnight hour.
19
On ventrous wing, beyond the solar ray;
And following safe thy more celestial day,
My course through secret depths of heav'n and earth explore.
To mark how the Almighty reins
His pond'rous orbs, in golden chains;
And the attracted planets run,
In mystic dance, around the sun;
That whirling on his fiery pole,
Resists the hurrying spheres control;
And rules wide from his central throne,
Beyond the glare of Mars, or Saturn's radiant zone.
Or greatly daring with bold Newton's line,
As seraphs reed, or angels circling wing,
Shall we attempt the realms of Heav'n's high King,
Adjusting time and space, their regions to confine.
Or humbly pleas'd, beneath our native sky,
Shall we pursue the swift revolving year;
With varying seasons in their gay career,
To warm the conscious heart, or charm the raptur'd eye.
With ignorance let the driving storm
Seem raging uproar, to deform
The heav'ns and earth; thy nobler soul
Unlocks the beauty of the whole;
Sees tempests sweep the burthen'd air,
And frosts the fruitful glebe prepare:
And Winter's awful horrours rise,
To shed on cherish'd earth, the influence of the skies.
As seraphs reed, or angels circling wing,
Shall we attempt the realms of Heav'n's high King,
Adjusting time and space, their regions to confine.
Or humbly pleas'd, beneath our native sky,
Shall we pursue the swift revolving year;
With varying seasons in their gay career,
To warm the conscious heart, or charm the raptur'd eye.
20
Seem raging uproar, to deform
The heav'ns and earth; thy nobler soul
Unlocks the beauty of the whole;
Sees tempests sweep the burthen'd air,
And frosts the fruitful glebe prepare:
And Winter's awful horrours rise,
To shed on cherish'd earth, the influence of the skies.
With classic grace, let the historic page
Unfold her annals; as the studious mind
Explores the rudiments of human-kind:
Their states, and rising arts, or patriots' noble rage.
Then converse with the mighty dead, who rais'd
So high the Grecian, and the Roman name;
Who greatly struggling nurs'd the virt'ous flame,
Which bless'd the grateful state, and through the nations blaz'd.
Or raptur'd in the Muses shades,
I hear the nine harmonious maids,
Awake bold Homer's sounding lyre;
Or courtly Maro's temper'd fire;
Or, Albion, what thy bards rehearse
In buskin'd state, or daring verse:
The magic strains, with wondrous pow'r,
Attune the soul, and charm the list'ning midnight hour.
Unfold her annals; as the studious mind
Explores the rudiments of human-kind:
Their states, and rising arts, or patriots' noble rage.
Then converse with the mighty dead, who rais'd
So high the Grecian, and the Roman name;
Who greatly struggling nurs'd the virt'ous flame,
Which bless'd the grateful state, and through the nations blaz'd.
Or raptur'd in the Muses shades,
I hear the nine harmonious maids,
Awake bold Homer's sounding lyre;
Or courtly Maro's temper'd fire;
Or, Albion, what thy bards rehearse
In buskin'd state, or daring verse:
21
Attune the soul, and charm the list'ning midnight hour.
Hail Chaucer! rev'rend Seer, with comic song,
And antique lyre, to charm in simpler days.
Hail Spencer! skill'd to train, 'midst flow'ry ways
Of fairy ground, our youth, led by inchantment strong.
Sweet Shakespear! child of Fancy! whom thy Nine
Inspire, and gave to drink the sacred spring;
With lofty Milton hail! whose angel-wing,
And Muse of Fire, nor Earth, nor Hell, nor Heav'n itself confine.
Dryden! who paints in living page
Timotheus' art, and Turnus' rage:
And Pope! who leads the tuneful throng;
Great judge, and master of the song,
With plaintive Young and Thomson, hail!
Instructive bard! whose silvan tale,
With Doric charm, and fancy bright,
Inspires my trembling wings, to trace thy nobler flight.
And antique lyre, to charm in simpler days.
Hail Spencer! skill'd to train, 'midst flow'ry ways
Of fairy ground, our youth, led by inchantment strong.
Sweet Shakespear! child of Fancy! whom thy Nine
Inspire, and gave to drink the sacred spring;
With lofty Milton hail! whose angel-wing,
And Muse of Fire, nor Earth, nor Hell, nor Heav'n itself confine.
Dryden! who paints in living page
Timotheus' art, and Turnus' rage:
And Pope! who leads the tuneful throng;
Great judge, and master of the song,
With plaintive Young and Thomson, hail!
Instructive bard! whose silvan tale,
With Doric charm, and fancy bright,
Inspires my trembling wings, to trace thy nobler flight.
22
Thrice happy, who thus wisely cheer the gloom
Of pining nature, while delighted high,
They court the Muses' shrine, and pleas'd descry
Fair Truth, all heav'nly bright, their darkness to illume.
Let others madly brave the raging flood;
Or climb high stories of the tow'r of state;
Or wildly bursting from a vulgar fate,
Invade their country's right, and plunge in civil blood:
Superiour to blind Folly's strife,
'Tis thine to polish human life;
To guide through the inchanting maze
Of artful pleasures; thine the praise,
Celestial quires! to calm the rage
Of youth, and warm declining age:
While rous'd by your Promethean fire,
Disdaining earth, your sons to native Heav'n aspire.
Of pining nature, while delighted high,
They court the Muses' shrine, and pleas'd descry
Fair Truth, all heav'nly bright, their darkness to illume.
Let others madly brave the raging flood;
Or climb high stories of the tow'r of state;
Or wildly bursting from a vulgar fate,
Invade their country's right, and plunge in civil blood:
Superiour to blind Folly's strife,
'Tis thine to polish human life;
To guide through the inchanting maze
Of artful pleasures; thine the praise,
Celestial quires! to calm the rage
Of youth, and warm declining age:
While rous'd by your Promethean fire,
Disdaining earth, your sons to native Heav'n aspire.
Ye tuneful Nine! who leave the sacred hill,
And haunt in Albion vales your blissful seat:
Lead me, ye Muses! where, in fam'd retreat,
You nurse the patriot flame, and with your transport fill.
Or where, by winding Isis' list'ning shore,
Fair England hears the silver-sounding lyres
Warble inchanting maze; or pleas'd retires,
Where Cam, in rural shades, unlocks his learned store.
Or where bold Caledonia hears,
With ardent soul, and ravish'd ears,
Your varied song; while smoothy glide,
O native Forth! thy swelling tides.
Or where the gulfy Eden pours,
Let me employ the studious hours:
Or where swift Dee pursues his way,
And wealthy Clyde attends bright Science' soaring lay.
And haunt in Albion vales your blissful seat:
Lead me, ye Muses! where, in fam'd retreat,
You nurse the patriot flame, and with your transport fill.
23
Fair England hears the silver-sounding lyres
Warble inchanting maze; or pleas'd retires,
Where Cam, in rural shades, unlocks his learned store.
Or where bold Caledonia hears,
With ardent soul, and ravish'd ears,
Your varied song; while smoothy glide,
O native Forth! thy swelling tides.
Or where the gulfy Eden pours,
Let me employ the studious hours:
Or where swift Dee pursues his way,
And wealthy Clyde attends bright Science' soaring lay.
O hide me in your shades! enraptur'd high,
The secret depths of Nature's bound to trace;
How whirl'd with rapid speed, and endless race,
In their melodious sphere, the golden planets fly.
What rolls loud thunder down th' ethereal steep;
Or wraps in ling'ring shades, the winter-night:
Or what detains gay Summer's radiant light,
As loath to cool his steeds in Thetis' western deep.
Or with instructed step, ye Muses, guide,
Safe through the maze of Life's dark winding vale;
For Vice and Folly, heard thy moral tale,
Fly as dull shades, when Morn displays his purple pride.
Improve, O man! this winter of thy days,
To Virtue sacred; soon the transient gleam
Of life shall vanish like a troubled dream,
And Heav'n's eternal Spring dawn with unclouded rays.
The secret depths of Nature's bound to trace;
How whirl'd with rapid speed, and endless race,
In their melodious sphere, the golden planets fly.
What rolls loud thunder down th' ethereal steep;
Or wraps in ling'ring shades, the winter-night:
Or what detains gay Summer's radiant light,
As loath to cool his steeds in Thetis' western deep.
24
Safe through the maze of Life's dark winding vale;
For Vice and Folly, heard thy moral tale,
Fly as dull shades, when Morn displays his purple pride.
Improve, O man! this winter of thy days,
To Virtue sacred; soon the transient gleam
Of life shall vanish like a troubled dream,
And Heav'n's eternal Spring dawn with unclouded rays.
FINIS.
| Occasional Poems | |