The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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ODE: To the MUSE.
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 | The Shamrock |  |
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ODE: To the MUSE.
I
Queen of the Song! thou, to whose Power,On every Hill, in every Shade,
At Morn's grey Dawn, or Evening Hour,
Unnumber'd Vows are daily paid;
Warm'd by whose Fires, the Bard is taught
To hail thy Power divine;
Whose Aid gives Strength to every Thought,
And brightens every Line;
Whether it joys thee most to rove
Amid the Stillness of the Grove,
Or Morn's ambrosial Breeze inhale
In Twickenham's flower-enamell'd Vale;
Whether thy careless Limbs are laid
Where Hagley spreads her verdant Shade;
Or, pensive, bending o'er the Flood,
That brawls through Windsor's royal Wood,
O hither wing thy Form benign!
To me impart thy heavenly Fire!
Propitious hear; and let one Ray divine
The last, the meanest of your Train inspire!
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II
Come, then, O come, and bring alongWith thee, thy whole celestial Train;
Fair Truth, to grace the moral Song;
And Elegance, that loves the Plain:
Let frolic Nature too be there,
While Art her Flight restrains;
Let Fancy mount the rapid Car,
And Judgement hold the Reins:
Let Eloquence her Beauties join;
And Wit her softer Charm combine:
Let Sense with Sweetness, too, conspire;
And female Ease with manly Fire:
Let bright Invention's magic Sway
Wake airy Nothings into Day;
And Memory, Goddess heavenly-born,
Bid Times long past again return:
Haste, then, O haste thee from the Skies;
And teach me all thy Art to move,
By secret Springs to bid the Passions rise,
Swell'd into Rage, or soften'd into Love.
III
All Being owns thy wonderous Sway,And Nature bows before thy Shrine;
Earth, Sea, and Air, thy Voice obey,
And Grace, and Harmony are thine:
Through Realms unknown, thy Power sublime
Can wing it's boundless Race;
Thy Passage nor restrain'd by Time;
Nor circumscrib'd by Place:
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Which old Antiquity has made;
The present Hours to thee are known;
And Time to come is all thy own:
Whene'er thou weav'st thy magic Wand,
New Worlds leap forth at thy Command;
And all along the fairy Ground
Ideal Beings start around;
New Beauties gild the azure Skies;
A fresher Verdure cloathes the Meads;
And, while new Suns in brighter Glory rise,
New Groves extend their visionary Shades.
IV
Sweet Mistress of the pleasing Tear,Let not thy Votary plead in vain!
Queen of the Song, propitious hear
A Bard, who wooes thee to the Plain!
By yon green Lawn that eyes the Flood,
Do thou my Footsteps lead,
Where Bewley's venerable Wood
Extends it's ample Shade:
Wrapp'd in the Stillness of the Bower,
While Birds around their Sonnets pour,
On every Thorn while Beauty blooms,
While every Breeze exhales Perfumes,
In such a Seat, how sweet to shun
The Fervour of the mid-day Sun!
To read soft Love in Myra's Eye,
And bless the Minutes, as they fly!
Power, Fame, and Fortune, I resign—
Let this alone to me be given;
Be thou, fair Queen, be thou, and Myra, mine!
Myra, and thou, are all I'ask of Heaven!
| The Shamrock | |