 | Adrastus, A Tragedy; Amabel, or The Cornish Lovers: And Other Poems |  |
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ORIGINAL POEMS.
THE AUTHOR'S PICTURE OF HIMSELF.
Oh! tempt me not, Leaf! with the lure of thy whiteness,
To venture again where the Muses control:
The trace of the Pen that gives shade to thy brightness
Should elicit some prominent feature of Soul.
To venture again where the Muses control:
The trace of the Pen that gives shade to thy brightness
Should elicit some prominent feature of Soul.
Persisting allure! and my Heart bids be trying
To twine a new wreath, ere I pass thee along;
And tells me forsooth, too, that e'en were I dying,
Such friendship as mine would give life to my song.
To twine a new wreath, ere I pass thee along;
And tells me forsooth, too, that e'en were I dying,
Such friendship as mine would give life to my song.
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Then oft may thy Mistress, no care to torment her,
While culling for pastime some tribute refin'd,
Here viewing the Portrait thou, Leaf! shalt present her,
Recal with affection her Friend to her mind.
While culling for pastime some tribute refin'd,
Here viewing the Portrait thou, Leaf! shalt present her,
Recal with affection her Friend to her mind.
With grey hairs, a bald crown, and a face somewhat Roman,
She may image the part that mortality claim'd;—
Already it moulder'd, youth stayeth with no Man,
And his Spirit of Earth, or he hoped it, was tamed.
She may image the part that mortality claim'd;—
Already it moulder'd, youth stayeth with no Man,
And his Spirit of Earth, or he hoped it, was tamed.
For that part of her friend oft call'd aptly the better,
Let the sketch of its failings lie hid in the shade:
God knows how he struggled to throw off their fetter,
And God will have mercy where mercy is pray'd.
Let the sketch of its failings lie hid in the shade:
God knows how he struggled to throw off their fetter,
And God will have mercy where mercy is pray'd.
Nor blazon his virtues—at best, ah! so slender!
They call more for pardon than merit a boast:—
Let her view him in habits that best may back render
Those glimpses of life that endear it the most.
They call more for pardon than merit a boast:—
Let her view him in habits that best may back render
Those glimpses of life that endear it the most.
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And has she not seen him, with lovers surrounded,
Receiving and giving the family kiss?—
Observ'd the affection at which the heart bounded,
By sincerity rendered the world's truest bliss?
Receiving and giving the family kiss?—
Observ'd the affection at which the heart bounded,
By sincerity rendered the world's truest bliss?
At his side a kind Wife, of near forty years fleeting,
Good humour'dly preaching her turnips for health,
While he smiled, and maintain'd that good beef was good eating,
And mutton still better, when he got it by stealth?
Good humour'dly preaching her turnips for health,
While he smiled, and maintain'd that good beef was good eating,
And mutton still better, when he got it by stealth?
Not so learned was he as enamour'd of learning,
And much he delighted to form the young spirit;
To point out the truths which are worthy discerning,
And show that the Heart gives the Head its best merit.
And much he delighted to form the young spirit;
To point out the truths which are worthy discerning,
And show that the Heart gives the Head its best merit.
But now, thou stain'd Leaf! see thy limit is rounded!
Go, bid thy dear Mistress, in judging his style,
To think of those days when the Old Man's heart bounded
To receive as his Daughter's the cheer of her smile.
Go, bid thy dear Mistress, in judging his style,
To think of those days when the Old Man's heart bounded
To receive as his Daughter's the cheer of her smile.
134
STANZAS.
INTRODUCTORY TO A FRIEND'S ALBUM.
[Resource of amusement refin'd and delightful!]
Resource of amusement refin'd and delightful!
What elegant thoughts shall thy pages enrol!
No line shall find place that's discordant or spiteful,
But Wit charm the fancy, and Friendship the soul.
What elegant thoughts shall thy pages enrol!
No line shall find place that's discordant or spiteful,
But Wit charm the fancy, and Friendship the soul.
As in Flora's gay garlands the perfume of roses,
In mingled aromas, remains still the chief,
So here, for our friend when we wreathe our gay posies,
The fragrance of love shall pervade every leaf.
In mingled aromas, remains still the chief,
So here, for our friend when we wreathe our gay posies,
The fragrance of love shall pervade every leaf.
In this Pic-nic of mind let each guest be a donor,
In verse or in prose as his fancy thinks fit,
But let it be worthy the taste of the Owner,
Who like Phœbus presides o'er the goblet of wit.
In verse or in prose as his fancy thinks fit,
But let it be worthy the taste of the Owner,
Who like Phœbus presides o'er the goblet of wit.
Push the Album about, like the goblet it cheers us,
'Tis to Friendship we fill as we scribble along:
The mingling of taste to each other endears us,
As, glowing, the pen writes a tale or a song.
'Tis to Friendship we fill as we scribble along:
The mingling of taste to each other endears us,
As, glowing, the pen writes a tale or a song.
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ON THE DEATH OF MRS. G. B*R*N,
WHO DIED IN BATH AT AN EARLY PERIOD OF LIFE.
Come view the grave, come drop the tender tear,
For Elegance itself lies buried here—
Strew the fair flow'r, sad emblem of the dead,
And sigh o'er loveliness too early fled.
For Elegance itself lies buried here—
Strew the fair flow'r, sad emblem of the dead,
And sigh o'er loveliness too early fled.
Let the gay throng, whose steps she never traced,
Hear, unconcern'd, that Life's last breath has ceased;
Affection's flood shall fall upon her tomb,
And memory dwell upon her matchless bloom.
Hear, unconcern'd, that Life's last breath has ceased;
Affection's flood shall fall upon her tomb,
And memory dwell upon her matchless bloom.
Peace to her shade!—Youth's idle dream is o'er—
Death's pageant past—and B*r*n seeks the shore
Where worth like hers can never dread to steer—
Nor changed her form,—for 'twas angelic here.
Death's pageant past—and B*r*n seeks the shore
Where worth like hers can never dread to steer—
Nor changed her form,—for 'twas angelic here.
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LINES TO A BOOK OF WHITE PAPER, ON WHICH THERE WAS A LOCK, THE GIFT OF A BELOVED SISTER IN EARLY LIFE.
Dear Book, the pledge of Charlotte's love,
Companion of my future days,
Henceforth with thee my mind I'll prove,
Unfold my thoughts and cull my lays:
Companion of my future days,
Henceforth with thee my mind I'll prove,
Unfold my thoughts and cull my lays:
Secure my soul with thee I place,
Than mortal trust and friendship high'r:
Ne'er ope thy lock to my disgrace,
Nor let one worthless thought transpire.
Than mortal trust and friendship high'r:
Ne'er ope thy lock to my disgrace,
Nor let one worthless thought transpire.
Unsullied Book, each word protect
That honour, truth, or virtue rules;
Dulness and malice both reject,
And save me from the laugh of fools:
That honour, truth, or virtue rules;
Dulness and malice both reject,
And save me from the laugh of fools:
That when at last I scan thy page,
I may not blush for youth in age;
But claim each thought that thou canst prove,
Thou welcome pledge of Charlotte's love!
I may not blush for youth in age;
But claim each thought that thou canst prove,
Thou welcome pledge of Charlotte's love!
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TO THE AUTHOR'S NEPHEW, ON HIS ADMISSION TO HOLY ORDERS.
Of things that heighten human bliss,
Thus Martial sings, nor sings amiss:
Thus Martial sings, nor sings amiss:
A good estate, by fair descent,
Not gain'd by years in labour spent;
A fertile soil, and solid house,
A lively, yet a modest spouse;
A quiet mind, no kind of strife,
Exemption from a public life;
A spark of wit, a healthy frame,
A simple taste, and friendship's flame;
Some pleasant neighbours; and a board
Not over dainty, yet well stor'd;
Nights, without toping, free from cares;
And sleep that nature's loss repairs:
Wishing no more, of these possess'd,
Think not of death, and you are blest.
Such were the strains that from the Heathen flow'd,
Not gain'd by years in labour spent;
A fertile soil, and solid house,
A lively, yet a modest spouse;
A quiet mind, no kind of strife,
Exemption from a public life;
A spark of wit, a healthy frame,
A simple taste, and friendship's flame;
Some pleasant neighbours; and a board
Not over dainty, yet well stor'd;
Nights, without toping, free from cares;
And sleep that nature's loss repairs:
Wishing no more, of these possess'd,
Think not of death, and you are blest.
Ere in the East the Star of Bethlehem glow'd.
Alas! not think of death!—True, Pagan, true,
For sensual bliss was all thy fancy drew—
Not think of Death! But, brute-like, wrapt in fate,
Crawl on, and eat, and breed, and ruminate;
Then heedless fall into a lasting grave,
No God to worship, and no soul to save—
Detested thought! Can earthly joy atone
Foreseen annihilation's horrid groan?
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Compensate for the loss of hope in death?
In Death, on which eternal joys depend,
Death, the great spring of life that hath no end,
Of everlasting love, delight, and glory
Exceeding all e'er fabled yet in story,
What ear of man ne'er heard, nor eye e'er saw,
No heart conceived, nor fancy e'er can draw!
These Death displays, and Death has lost his sting,
He opes the grave to Heaven's immortal King;
Throws wide the portals of eternal day,
A beauteous cherub now that points the way,
And bids the wonders of the tomb explore—
Oh! gracious privilege of Christian lore!
'Tis thine, dear Youth, the previous path to clear,
And from the gloom of earth remove all fear:
To teach the only lasting bliss to gain;
Without which hope all other bliss were vain:—
Pursue thy heavenly ministry, prepare
Thy flock the Christian joys to share—
Oh may success your arduous task attend!
So fervent prays your Uncle and your Friend.
139
STANZAS
ON THE BIRTH-DAY OF MISS E. D. F---MP---N, WRITTEN IN THE VALLEY OF ST. ADRESSE, IN NORMANDY. The Tenth Day of June.
[The tenth day of June! 'tis as cold as December]
The tenth day of June! 'tis as cold as December,
So varies the Sun with the winds that arise!
The tenth day of June yet with warmth I remember,
For Friendship ne'er varies with varying skies:
'Tis the sun of the mind, and a heavenly boon,
That cheers with its ray both December and June.
So varies the Sun with the winds that arise!
The tenth day of June yet with warmth I remember,
For Friendship ne'er varies with varying skies:
'Tis the sun of the mind, and a heavenly boon,
That cheers with its ray both December and June.
Tho' chill'd be the air, here are hearts warmly glowing,
For dear in the record of love is the day;
Here are lips, with the language of love overflowing,
And the pen of affection inditing a lay:
Eliza to praise every voice is in tune,
All hailing with fondness the tenth day of June.
For dear in the record of love is the day;
Here are lips, with the language of love overflowing,
And the pen of affection inditing a lay:
Eliza to praise every voice is in tune,
All hailing with fondness the tenth day of June.
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And memory, too, the past busily traces;
The book, and the walk, and the dance, and the song,
It strolls by the sea, o'er the valley it paces,
And on the green ridges it rambles along;
Explores now a planet, now visits the Moon,
And each pleasure combines with the tenth day of June.
The book, and the walk, and the dance, and the song,
It strolls by the sea, o'er the valley it paces,
And on the green ridges it rambles along;
Explores now a planet, now visits the Moon,
And each pleasure combines with the tenth day of June.
Each image reflected is render'd endearing,
When sweetly by mutual affection impress'd:
Thro' life will the scenes of our valley be cheering,
Perceiv' by the Senses, or stor'd in the breast.
Then hail, lovely Friendship, thou heavenly boon!
And blest be the Maid of the tenth day of June.
When sweetly by mutual affection impress'd:
Thro' life will the scenes of our valley be cheering,
Perceiv' by the Senses, or stor'd in the breast.
Then hail, lovely Friendship, thou heavenly boon!
And blest be the Maid of the tenth day of June.
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TO THE SAME.
ON HER PREPARING TO LEAVE THE PLEASANT VALLEY OF ST. ADRESSE.
Yes, Lizzy, yes—the time will come,
So Fate decrees, when we must part;
You must return, to bless your home,
And leave a void in ev'ry heart.
So Fate decrees, when we must part;
You must return, to bless your home,
And leave a void in ev'ry heart.
Yet blameless may those hearts be found
That sadden to resign a treasure,
Which strews, with lavish hand, around
The balmy sweets of lasting pleasure.
That sadden to resign a treasure,
Which strews, with lavish hand, around
The balmy sweets of lasting pleasure.
Thy gifted mind, by Friendship's power,
Has brightened oft a gloomy day;
And years have passed, as but an hour,
So cheated by its powerful ray.
Has brightened oft a gloomy day;
And years have passed, as but an hour,
So cheated by its powerful ray.
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With bounteous hand, thou shedd'st the balm,
As gentle winds the blossoms strew:
And oh! may'st thou return to calm
The sorrowing heart, as springs renew.
As gentle winds the blossoms strew:
And oh! may'st thou return to calm
The sorrowing heart, as springs renew.
The tear that beams in ev'ry eye,
The heart that heaves with painful swell,
Each fruitless effort must deny
The voice the power to say Farewell.
The heart that heaves with painful swell,
Each fruitless effort must deny
The voice the power to say Farewell.
When, by parental fondness blest,
That joy shall chase this parting pang,
Reclining on thy Mother's breast,
With length'ning bliss, thou lovest to hang;
That joy shall chase this parting pang,
Reclining on thy Mother's breast,
With length'ning bliss, thou lovest to hang;
Tell her, and press her to thine heart,
Tell her, that e'en by this sweet token,
I cannot half I feel impart
Of Love and Friendship never broken.
Tell her, that e'en by this sweet token,
I cannot half I feel impart
Of Love and Friendship never broken.
Remember, 'tis for thee to tell
From me, since Fate will have it so,
How I have joy'd to love thee well,
How lov'd, who could that joy bestow.
From me, since Fate will have it so,
How I have joy'd to love thee well,
How lov'd, who could that joy bestow.
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Tell her, nor heed thy crimson'd cheeks,
Thy virtues and thy merits rare,
In thee her semblance loudly speaks,
By her example planted there.
Thy virtues and thy merits rare,
In thee her semblance loudly speaks,
By her example planted there.
I cannot envy her a boon
That is alone the gift of Heaven,
I only may regret how soon
I must resign a bliss so given.
That is alone the gift of Heaven,
I only may regret how soon
I must resign a bliss so given.
Sarah.
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THE BONJA SONG.
What are the joys of white man here?
What are his pleasures? say;
Me want no joys, no ills me fear,
But on my Bonja play;
Me sing all day, me sleep all night,
Me hab no care, my heart is light;
Me tink not what to-morrow bring,
Me happy, so me sing.
What are his pleasures? say;
Me want no joys, no ills me fear,
But on my Bonja play;
Me sing all day, me sleep all night,
Me hab no care, my heart is light;
Me tink not what to-morrow bring,
Me happy, so me sing.
But white man's joys are not like mine,
Dho' he look smart and gay:
He proud, he jealous, haughty, fine,
While I my Bonja play.
He sleep all day, he wake all night,
He full of care, his heart no light,
He great deal want, he little get,
He sorry, so he fret.
Dho' he look smart and gay:
He proud, he jealous, haughty, fine,
While I my Bonja play.
He sleep all day, he wake all night,
He full of care, his heart no light,
He great deal want, he little get,
He sorry, so he fret.
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Me envy not dhe white man dhen,
Me poor, but me is gay:
Me glad at heart, me happy when
Me on my Bonja play.
Me sing all day, me sleep all night,
Me hab no care, my heart is light;
Me tink not what to-morrow bring,
Me happy, so me sing.
Me poor, but me is gay:
Me glad at heart, me happy when
Me on my Bonja play.
Me sing all day, me sleep all night,
Me hab no care, my heart is light;
Me tink not what to-morrow bring,
Me happy, so me sing.
Charlotte.
The melody of this song, which was published some years ago, by Broderip and Wilkinson, is, with very little variation, such as was caught by ear from some of the negroes. The writer of the words took down the notes, and added the harmony.
“I sing all day” may be charged with exaggeration by those who would substitute, “I work all day;” but the fact is that the negroes are a singing race. And they not only sing at their feasts and their dances, but at their work. There is scarcely an occurrence that attracts particular attention which they will not turn into a song.
The Bonja is a kind of guitar—it is made of a gourd, with a piece of dried skin or parchment, to which are fixed a finger board and catgut strings. I have heard that it gave the original idea of the guitar. Several years ago a print appeared in some of the picture shops, with the above words taken from the song, and annexed to it. But instead of a bonja in the hand of the negro, he was represented playing on a dulcimer.
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TO MY DELIGHT.
TO BE READ TO HER AFTER DINNER, ON MAY 18, 1823. (Whitsunday.)
Pretty, little, dark-eyed maid!
Pet-lamb, darling, and Delight!
With a cherub-smile array'd,
So delicious to the sight!
Pet-lamb, darling, and Delight!
With a cherub-smile array'd,
So delicious to the sight!
Lambkin of the sprightly May!
Cheerful smile, and merry be:
Agnes, you were born to-day—
May it be a day of glee!
Cheerful smile, and merry be:
Agnes, you were born to-day—
May it be a day of glee!
Through my pen a kiss I blow;
Feel it on the paper press'd;
Put it to your lips; 'twill glow;
Let it in your bosom rest:
Feel it on the paper press'd;
Put it to your lips; 'twill glow;
Let it in your bosom rest:
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And, as years your mind improve,
Though the Giver 's out of sight,
Think it was a kiss of love;
Think how you were his delight:
Though the Giver 's out of sight,
Think it was a kiss of love;
Think how you were his delight:
How you rode, a tiny lass,
Amble, trot, and gallop too:
How you sang Amo, amas,
Dancing upright on his shoe:
Amble, trot, and gallop too:
How you sang Amo, amas,
Dancing upright on his shoe:
How he bit your little ear,
With a kiss to make it well:
Playing gambols at Highclere—
Mary, Harry, Al can tell.
With a kiss to make it well:
Playing gambols at Highclere—
Mary, Harry, Al can tell.
For his love they all partook,
And the little rogues well knew so—
Mary doated on her book;
Al and Harry meant to do so.
And the little rogues well knew so—
Mary doated on her book;
Al and Harry meant to do so.
May the light that shone this day
Be to you a glorious sun!
May the Spirit's heavenly ray
Guide you till your race be run!
Be to you a glorious sun!
May the Spirit's heavenly ray
Guide you till your race be run!
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Now a kiss to dear Mamma,
Then about the table blow it;
Fling your arms around Papa,
And pray God to bless your Poet.
Then about the table blow it;
Fling your arms around Papa,
And pray God to bless your Poet.
Wickwar, May 15, 1823.
| Adrastus, A Tragedy; Amabel, or The Cornish Lovers: And Other Poems | |