Poems on several subjects

A fertile plain, where Neptune reign'd of old,
And mighty tides with furious winds were roll'd;
In midst of which an island rear'd its brow,
That all old Ocean's force could ne'er subdue:
The nat'ral ash, with shady beeches, spread
Around the place, and form'd a rural shade:
The Graces there for cool repose retir'd,
And Flora spread her garland on the swaird:
The choirsters, that charm the month of May,
Then sung their matins in the midst of Tay.

Martin a saint, searching for solitude,
View'd from an height, amidst the raging flood,
That paradise, by Nature only fram'd,
Fix'd there his cell, and it Inchmartine nam'd.

The growing tides this saint did so affright,
He utter'd this complaint upon the height:

“Here nat'ral beauties deck the place all round;
But ah! me fears one night I may be drown'd.
Thou Pow'r divine, that Jordan's waves withstood
Till thine own people marched thro' the flood,
Command this torrent, this proud threat'ning stream,
To turn aside, or make its force more lame;
That, unsurpris'd, I in this place may live,
And ev'ry morning thee due homage give.”
Thus said, he to his nightly haunt return'd,
And all the night with such complaints he mourn'd;
Still praying, that the waves might not invade
And overwhelm him in his silent bed:
Till near the dawn, amidst the roaring deep,
The sounding billows lull'd him fast asleep.
Æolus the while wrought with the flowing tide,
And beat with vi'lence on the southern side:
That rais'd a gulf sufficient to receive
The rapid Tay, and each ascending wave;
So that the place, where billows us'd to rore,
Is cover'd now with yellow harvest o'er:

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The lonely cave is now a stately dome;
Pomona claims the barren ash's room,
Which curiously, where Nature play'd her part,
Are beautified and polished by art.
The tulips, lilies, flow'rs of various hue,
Instead of cowslips and wild dasies, grow.
Inchmartine now a safe retreat remains,
And Ceres loads her bounty on the plains:
In peaceful dust the holy hermit lyes,
Succeeded by the ancient Ogilvies.

Hymen, reviv'd with summer's fragrant scene,
Repairs to visit the fair Paphian queen;
Applies her softly that she would engage
A pleasure-journey with her equipage,
To view dame Nature in her richest dress,
And see the swains their lovely nymphs caress.

The humble goddess, with a smile reply'd,
“Where would ye, Sir, this journey should be try'd?”

Then gratefully the old enamour'd god
Bow'd to the goddess with an aged nod:
“Please venture north Saint Martin's isle to view,
Where fair Alexis we may soon subdue;
Who mourns impatient on the banks of Tay,
And knows no reason why he pines away.”
Then arming Cupid with new shields and darts,
Prov'd armour for the most obdurate hearts,
Equip'd for journey, all the godlike train
Stood mounted on the wide-extended plain.
From off her chariot the bright goddess cry'd,
“My son, approach, come even to my side:
Sweet darling beauty, comfort of my heart,
To you my great designs I must impart:
I cannot call you disobedient son,
Since my commands you never left undone,
With as much haste as ever you was sent:
And wedded beauty to the life go paint,
And underneath the fair and lovely scheme
Write Rothemay and Ogilvie's fair name,

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And on the crest your double golden dart,
Piercing the centre of Alexis' heart.”

Soon as the goddess ended her commands,
The artful Cupid ply'd his nimble hands:
This piece of sculpture, rare and richly wrought,
He finished, and to his mother brought.

Then with seraphic speed they wing'd their way
Thro' orient clouds of the approaching day:
By that the sun had made the morning smile,
The train alighted in the beauteous isle.
Alexis fair, half walking, half asleep,
Confus'd with thinking, fetch'd a sigh so deep,
That made the place to echo with the groan;
And yet the cause was still to him unknown:
At last look'd up, and with new transport spied
Cupid's performance, and with rapture cry'd,
“Ye unseen powr's, explain the artful draught,
And from this labyrinth wind out my thought.”
At last the optics of his sight were stay'd,
Fixing his eyes, the writing he survey'd;
Wond'ring again, he view'd the lovely scheme
From Rothemay and Ogilvie's fair name;
He gather'd straight, he knew the lovely prize,
And where the treasure, hid before, now lyes.

New vigour started in each nerve and vein,
And vapours vanish'd from his love-sick brain:
Fir'd with the object, he the object knew,
With fond ambition from his bed he slew;
Call'd for the strongest and the swiftest steed,
That he might fly, if possible, for speed;
Whereon he mounted, pray'd his stars to guide
His bended course towards the lovely bride.

With boundless speed the fiery courser flies
Along the plain towards the lovely prize,
Where Cupid long before Alexis came,
Had fir'd the fair with new uncommon flame:
Their sev'ral breasts with equal fervour glows,
Their sentiments both fondly would disclose;

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A thousand blushes seiz'd the tender youth,
While he essay'd to open his fair mouth;
Thousands of fears surpris'd the fair one's heart,
Till he could utter or his love impart.
Courage at last o'er bashfulness made way,
Both strove in love each other to outvie.
What joys, what transport, each by turns did feel,
The thousand part no mortal can reveal.
Hymen, relenting, crown'd these lovers bliss;
Their hearts their hands join'd with a nuptial kiss:
Each adding fuel to another's flames;
Each who loves most th'ascendant ever claims.
Unwearied love, unwasted flames, be thou
The dear attendants on the wedlock vow!
Let these sweet pair retain Love's youthful fire
A Nestor's age, and then with love expire!
Their souls unite, like two dear lovers, fly
To endless bliss, to love eternally;
While their bright offspring, as the phœnix race,
Shall honour, in their turns, the age and place!

University of Virginia Library

VENUS's JOURNEY. A POEM inscribed to Mr Ogilvie of Inchmartine, on his Marriage.