The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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THE PROGRESS OF FANCY.
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
140
THE PROGRESS OF FANCY.
A VISION.
Arise! my Muse! and break the bands of
sleep,
Now when the dawn with orient smile attends
The dewy tracks of morn, and the bright sun
Yokes his æthereal coursers to the car
That whirls aloft the potency of fire,
As yet unken'd, save, by effulgence dim,
That gilds with purple blush the glitt'ring kiss
Of Blomius! hill beloved, where oft the muse
Was wont to wander yon majestic slope
Of ridgy rocks, where tumbling down amain
The cataract pours its hoary deluge, there
She pored on Nature, or with frenzied eye,
Saw native Oreads mount the steep sublime,
And like the mellow horn, in cadence sweet,
Call notes, responsive to the wild waves dash
Against the jutting shore! Hail! happy morn,
Thrice hail ambrosial eves, when the fresh gale
Of honied fragrance woo'd my fervid lip,
Or sigh'd, enamour'd, on my roseate cheek,
When the first dawn appear'd! Bear witness you!
For you alone my ecstacy could know!
How oft I called mild Hesper to return,
When by his argent wand of light, the valves
Of day were shut with foldings black conceal'd
Of ebon bars, and the portcullis huge
Of a drear cloud, whose sable scenery, caught
One parting smile of day's envermeil'd face!
Then would I dream of scenes romantic there,
In visionary gleam of inward thought,
New figures trace, unseen by waking eye!
Muse! tell the tale of my enraptur'd breast,
When from a fleecy cloud of amber hue,
A nymph descending met my ravish'd sight;
Her front with lightnings wreath'd, her glowing waist
Bound with the varying rainbow's lucid zone.
In a gold clasp her copious tresses join'd,
And flow'd luxuriant on her crimson robe,
Whose ample folds, by wildest nature form'd,
Devoid of attic grace and cut succinct,
Swept the blue air with winnowing scope, and blazed
In wond'rous colours changing ever new,
To mœlibean tint, or saffron glow;
Tyrian, or soft Ionian, and each cast,
Famed in the east, ripe store of mimic dyes!
Full many a sylph her airy sojourn shared,
And waved full many a rosy coronet,
And rich festoon, to deck her panting brow!
Now when the dawn with orient smile attends
The dewy tracks of morn, and the bright sun
Yokes his æthereal coursers to the car
That whirls aloft the potency of fire,
As yet unken'd, save, by effulgence dim,
That gilds with purple blush the glitt'ring kiss
Of Blomius! hill beloved, where oft the muse
Was wont to wander yon majestic slope
Of ridgy rocks, where tumbling down amain
The cataract pours its hoary deluge, there
She pored on Nature, or with frenzied eye,
Saw native Oreads mount the steep sublime,
And like the mellow horn, in cadence sweet,
Call notes, responsive to the wild waves dash
Against the jutting shore! Hail! happy morn,
Thrice hail ambrosial eves, when the fresh gale
Of honied fragrance woo'd my fervid lip,
Or sigh'd, enamour'd, on my roseate cheek,
141
For you alone my ecstacy could know!
How oft I called mild Hesper to return,
When by his argent wand of light, the valves
Of day were shut with foldings black conceal'd
Of ebon bars, and the portcullis huge
Of a drear cloud, whose sable scenery, caught
One parting smile of day's envermeil'd face!
Then would I dream of scenes romantic there,
In visionary gleam of inward thought,
New figures trace, unseen by waking eye!
Muse! tell the tale of my enraptur'd breast,
When from a fleecy cloud of amber hue,
A nymph descending met my ravish'd sight;
Her front with lightnings wreath'd, her glowing waist
Bound with the varying rainbow's lucid zone.
In a gold clasp her copious tresses join'd,
And flow'd luxuriant on her crimson robe,
Whose ample folds, by wildest nature form'd,
Devoid of attic grace and cut succinct,
Swept the blue air with winnowing scope, and blazed
In wond'rous colours changing ever new,
To mœlibean tint, or saffron glow;
Tyrian, or soft Ionian, and each cast,
Famed in the east, ripe store of mimic dyes!
Full many a sylph her airy sojourn shared,
142
And rich festoon, to deck her panting brow!
Innvention first advanced; prime source
of song,
And to the warbling wind her flying touch
Apply'd; struck by her touch the trembling chords
Sung loud, and in one rapid peal combin'd
The sweet, the solemn, and the martial charge!
Caught by the sound, methought the goddess view'd
The mighty minstrel, on his purple cheek
She fix'd the dewy languish of her eye,
And seem'd to own him master of her heart!
A long succession of illustrious bards
Their empress follow'd, and as they approach'd
A stream of living glory flow'd behind!
Oh! press not thus upon my shrinking eye!
Oh! spare the burstings of my aching heart,
For sure such vision ne'er entranc'd before
The human mind, save when on Milton's soul,
Chief leader of the tuneful train, a rush
Of deluging light, from heav'nly sluices burst
Upon his op'ning soul; his visual ray
Unmeet for such a waste of glaring scenes,
Bewilder'd in the blaze! for ever fled
His mortal form.—Next sportive Spencer came;
Sharp points of wit adorn'd his burning breast,
And on a shield of gold that hid his arm,
In fairy characters Eliza shone.
But from his corslet, with sweet myrtle twined
In braided thorns, “a heart right well pourtrayed”
Bore the lov'd name of rural Rosalind.
And to the warbling wind her flying touch
Apply'd; struck by her touch the trembling chords
Sung loud, and in one rapid peal combin'd
The sweet, the solemn, and the martial charge!
Caught by the sound, methought the goddess view'd
The mighty minstrel, on his purple cheek
She fix'd the dewy languish of her eye,
And seem'd to own him master of her heart!
A long succession of illustrious bards
Their empress follow'd, and as they approach'd
A stream of living glory flow'd behind!
Oh! press not thus upon my shrinking eye!
Oh! spare the burstings of my aching heart,
For sure such vision ne'er entranc'd before
The human mind, save when on Milton's soul,
Chief leader of the tuneful train, a rush
Of deluging light, from heav'nly sluices burst
Upon his op'ning soul; his visual ray
Unmeet for such a waste of glaring scenes,
Bewilder'd in the blaze! for ever fled
His mortal form.—Next sportive Spencer came;
Sharp points of wit adorn'd his burning breast,
And on a shield of gold that hid his arm,
143
But from his corslet, with sweet myrtle twined
In braided thorns, “a heart right well pourtrayed”
Bore the lov'd name of rural Rosalind.
And Cowley! son of wanton wit, came on;
And Pope, the lustre of Belinda's lock,
Waved high in air, while thousand sylphids sate
Thron'd on each curl, and in their tiny grasp
A javelin gleam'd, with diamond tipp'd, to guard
The violated hair; thus o'er the fleece
By Colchic Jason gain'd, and the rude spells,
By Mcdean heroes, stood in silent pause,
And wonder'd at the payment of their toil.
Each gallant chief his sevenfold shield display'd,
And drew the half-sheath'd faulchion! horrent spears
Gleam'd to the twikling of the tremulous moon,
And plumes proud-crested floated on the lap
Of negro night, charm'd with the martial crew!
But more the motley caravan attend;
Of noble names in the large list of fame
Yet passing hasty on, to 'scape the ken
Of critic pride, and the grim cynic's snarl.
Mason, with Gray, to Dryden's silver car
Impetuous urg'd, the reverend minstrel smil'd,
And join'd sage converse with the tuneful pair;
But lo! a modest bard of humbler mien,
Their footsteps follow'd, Dante's hoary shade
Majestic, hover'd o'er his head, and placed
A paradisial wreath upon his brow,
While holiest numbers glided from his tongue.
Him Ariosto view'd with kind regard,
And stopp'd his chariot, griffin-yoked in air,
To thank the son of his translated fame.
Now myriads came tumultuous, frantic heat
Glow'd in each eye! a mimic tribe were they,
For Dullness dress'd them in her robes of state,
To mock the pageant of a mightier queen.
Orlando's bard the magic horn, renown'd,
Seiz'd in his wrath, and blew a blast so dread,
That all the embryo vision chac'd away.
And Pope, the lustre of Belinda's lock,
Waved high in air, while thousand sylphids sate
Thron'd on each curl, and in their tiny grasp
A javelin gleam'd, with diamond tipp'd, to guard
The violated hair; thus o'er the fleece
By Colchic Jason gain'd, and the rude spells,
By Mcdean heroes, stood in silent pause,
And wonder'd at the payment of their toil.
Each gallant chief his sevenfold shield display'd,
And drew the half-sheath'd faulchion! horrent spears
Gleam'd to the twikling of the tremulous moon,
And plumes proud-crested floated on the lap
Of negro night, charm'd with the martial crew!
But more the motley caravan attend;
Of noble names in the large list of fame
Yet passing hasty on, to 'scape the ken
Of critic pride, and the grim cynic's snarl.
Mason, with Gray, to Dryden's silver car
Impetuous urg'd, the reverend minstrel smil'd,
And join'd sage converse with the tuneful pair;
But lo! a modest bard of humbler mien,
144
Majestic, hover'd o'er his head, and placed
A paradisial wreath upon his brow,
While holiest numbers glided from his tongue.
Him Ariosto view'd with kind regard,
And stopp'd his chariot, griffin-yoked in air,
To thank the son of his translated fame.
Now myriads came tumultuous, frantic heat
Glow'd in each eye! a mimic tribe were they,
For Dullness dress'd them in her robes of state,
To mock the pageant of a mightier queen.
Orlando's bard the magic horn, renown'd,
Seiz'd in his wrath, and blew a blast so dread,
That all the embryo vision chac'd away.
| The Harp of Erin | |