Miscellanies (1785) :: :: University of Virginia Library

239

BALLAD POEMS FROM EMMA CORBET, AND SONGS.

241

VERSES WRITTEN IN THE MOMENTS OF WAITING AN INTERVIEW.

I

Tender tremours touch the bosom,
As the gentle hour moves by;
Expectation, almost weeping,
Tip-toe stands in either eye.

II

Ah! what precious preturbations
Haunt the fancy of a friend!
Half an hour, of watchful waiting,
Seems a period without end.

III

When the clouds hang dark and heavy,
Disappointment o'er me low'rs;
But as fairer fleeces favour,
Hope bestows her promis'd flow'rs.

242

IV

Soon again soft fears assail me,
Since the visit is delay'd;
Then—ah then!—'tis apprehension,
Of a thousand things afraid.

V

Haply sickness may detain her—
Thus Imagination cries:
Haply pain, or haply peril—
Then this bosom bleeding lies.

VI

Ev'ry step that strikes the pavement,
Ev'ry summons at the door;
Ev'ry sound of passing coaches,
Warm and chill these pulses more.

VII

Now I dread th' excusing message,
Now I dread some dire disease;
Too much wind, or too much sunshine,
Robs alike this breast of ease.

243

VIII

Heav'n must make a morn on purpose,
To compose the gentle heart;
Zephyr's bland must fan the season,
Airs their softest balm impart;

IX

Not a breath too much or little,
Not too hot or cold a ray;
Must impede the Expectation,
When 'tis meeting day.

X

Yet, perchance, these lovely flutt'rings,
Beauteous fears, and kind distress,
Do but serve the more to heighten
Tender Henry's happiness.

XI

When the fair indeed approaches,
Every rosy terror's o'er;
After little scatter'd cloudings,
Sunbeams only bless us more.

244

ADDRESS TO A LOCKET.

I

Come thou soft and sacred favour
The remembrance chaste impart;
Take thy station on my bosom,
Lightly lodging near the heart.

II

While that tender thing shall flutter,
Thou the secret cause shalt know;
Whether pleasure or disaster
Thou wilt see what stirs it so.

III

When the hope of happy tidings
Shall the sweet sensations move,
When the white and winged agents
Whisper friendship, whisper love;

245

IV

Then all symathetic thrilling,
Thou the rosy stream shalt guide;
While as runs the ruddy treasure,
Thou'rt the genius of the tide.

V

Haply when this heart is sinking
Thou shalt soothe the rising sigh,
When with woe surcharg'd 'tis sinking,
Thou wilt see the reason why.

VI

Ev'ry curious eye escaping,
Here securely shalt thou rest;
Tho' the universe were searching,
Thine the secrets of my breast.

VII

Come then dear and decent favour,
Learn what thou wilt ne'er impart;
Fix thy throne, and fix it ever,
In the regions of my heart.

246

VIII

O'er these delicate dominions,
Cast a Monarch's careful view,
Render every subject passion
Worthy me, and worthy you.

IX

Let not realms so rich, so tender,
Suffer rebels weeds to grow,
But the flowers—ah! do not crush them,
In vision sweet, oh! let them blow.

X

Gentlest sighs shall serve for breezes,
Softly aid them, auburn friend;
Silent tears, like dews descending,
Shall the lovely growth attend.

XI

Thou shalt watch them night and morning,
Thou shalt see the nurselings rise;
Thou, with me, shalt tremble for them,
Thou, with me, invoke the skies.

247

XII

If at length, alas! they wither,
If they sicken, if they die,
In one grave—oh! dear companion,
Still embosom'd may we die.

Part of this Ballad has been set to Music by the ingenious Dr. Arnold.

WITH A PRESENT OF SOME PENS SENT TO EMMA.

I

Go, ingenious artist, to her
All ambitious to be prest;
Dear disclosures of sensation;
Agents of the gentle breast.

II

Whiter than your whitest feather,
Is the hand which you'll embrace;
Yet more white the fair affection,
Whose emotions you shall trace.

248

III

Go, and take a charge upon you,
Passing tender, passing dear;
Oh, the trust you bear is wond'rous!
Gentle agents, be sincere.

IV

Every sacred secret marking,
Gods! how precious ye will prove!
Softest sympathies imparting,
Are ye not the plumes of Love?

V

When first floating on the river,
Lovely was your limpid way;
Lovely was your silver surface,
Lovely was your wat'ry play:

VI

But for pastime still more lovely,
Your sweet feathers now I send;
What so lovely, prithee tell me,
As the service of a friend.

249

VII

Faithful to the fair deposits,
Your least stroke shall reach my heart;
In its elegant recesses
Shall be fix'd, what you impart.

VIII

Then dear instruments, I charge ye,
Often tempt my Emma's eyes;
Bid her press your downy feathers,
Bid her speed the soft replies.

IX

Not the plumes which line her pillow
Half so delicate shall prove;
When all kind her pulses tremble,
As your downy plumes of love.

X

Ye shall note her joy and anguish,
Gentle agents, be sincere!
Send me half each drop of sorrow;
Rob me not of half each tear.

250

XI

Beauteous as the dews of morning,
When they bathe the lovely flow'r,
Are the lucid drops of Feeling,
When from Fondness falls the show'r.

XII

Mark, I claim my just division;
Mark, I promise just return;
Some of your white-wing'd associates
Must inform her how I mourn.

XIII

When long leagues our persons sever,
Ye our wishes shall convey;
Ye shall tell the pangs of parting,
Ye shall hail the meeting day.

XIV

Save me, pow'rs! that strike the pulses,
When invades the quick surprize;
Yonder comes the gentle Emma,
Hither she directs her eyes.

251

XV

How the feather I am using
Trembles to the trembling heart!
Agents, here behold a pattern!
See a sample of your art.

XVI

Thus to me were Emma writing,
(And her thoughts like Henry's kind)
Sympathy would shake each feather,
All expressive of the mind.

XVII

Go then, take this charge upon you,
Passing tender, passing dear;
Oh, the charge you bear is wond'rous!
Gentle agents, be sincere.

SONG.

A POET there was, and he liv'd in a garret,
And he quaff'd poor small beer, tho' he sung of good claret;

252

A damsel he married both buxom and fair,
And she sigh'd and took on—for a chariot and chair.
Derry down, down, &c.

One day as this bardling was scribbling a novel,
His fingers in ink, and his head in a hovel,
His spouse, in idea, was building a palace,
And tripping in fancy from Dover to Calais.
Derry down, &c.

“Had I a good fortune, dear Rhimewell (said she)
I'd skim round the globe in my gilt vis-a-vis,
I'd have tassels before and gay trimmings behind,
And I'd move as I swung on—the wings of the wind.
Derry down, &c.

“Here John, bring my carriage, and whirl me away—
First a stroll in the Park, then a peep at the play.
Now, ye gods! I'd step out, and now I'd step in it,
Change my dress, my diversions,—and man in a minute.
Derry down, &c.

253

“And would not all this, my dear Bard, be most charming?
To my pride be most soothing, to passions alarming?
And then as I sat in my delicate jacket,
How I'd fire all the folks with my—rattle and racket!”
Derry down, &c.

“All this (said the Poet) is brave and uncommon,
And enough I confess to distract a fine woman;
But while you're thus dressing your heart and your head,
I'm digging away for our butter and bread.
Derry down, &c.

“Since such is our fate, dame, I prithee be quiet,
For how can I write while you make such a riot?
Consider, good woman, we live upon verses,
And must only be poorer, while you talk of purses.”
Derry down, &c.

254

PLEASING AND TEASING.

A SONG.

I

Fair Rosamond long young Palemon ador'd,
For pastime in bed, and for pleasures at board;
Their pleasures, at first, were the pleasures of pleasing,
Till such things gave way to—the transports of teasing.

II

When at night she withdrew to the soft scene of rest,
'Twas “Palemon, my dearest, my sweetest, my best!”
'Twas then she enjoy'd all the pleasures of pleasing,
But rose in the morn to—the transport of teasing.

255

III

All mild as she came from the bosom of blisses,
Yet thrilling with passion, yet soften'd by kisses,
The sighs that broke from her were tenderly pleasing,
And yet all gave way to the transport of teasing.

IV

“By my love of a coach (cries the fair in a rage)
Your form and your sense can no longer engage;
Since we both are grown tired with pleasures of pleasing,
I'm resolv'd to enjoy all—the transports of teasing.”

V

“Let us part, then, to-morrow,” Palemon replies.
“To-night, if you please (the fair Rosamond cries)
I've a man in thy eye—for the pleasures of pleasing,
And I'll leave to Palemon—the transports of teasing.

256

VI

“Call a hack there this minute, and let me depart,
Wherever I go, I take with me my heart;
I take with me too all the pleasures of pleasing,
While I leave to Palemon—the transports of teasing.

VII

The hackney was call'd, and away the fair drove,
From all the delights of Palemon and love;
For tho' hundreds appear'd for the transports of teasing,
Alas! she found none for the pleasures of pleasing.

VIII

“Ah hang it! (she cries) what a sad life is this!
No joy in the chariot, no heaven in the kiss;
In the day I have lost e'en the transports of teasing,
In the night I have lost too the pleasures of pleasing.

257

IX

“If thus I'm condemn'd like a stoic to sit,
Neither touch'd by soft passion, nor tickled by wit;
Ah! give me, kind gods, the dear pleasures of pleasing,
And mix along with them the transports of teasing.

X

“Oh! would but Palemon receive me again,
Give one hand to rapture, and one hand to pain;
I plainly perceive, in the cup that's most pleasing
Ye have generously squeezed the acid of teasing.”

XI

To give both the lemon and sugar, was just;
'Tis the punch of existence, and drink it we must,
If at night we may quaff the full goblet of pleasing,
Let us patiently swallow the bumper of teasing.

258

SONG.

I

Ah Love! who bade me languish,
No more let me endure;
Cease, cease, at length my angush,
Thou ow'st thy slave a cure.

II

Enough, thy cruel arrows
Have sported with my heart;
Enough, its faithful sorrows
Have throbbed in ev'ry part.

III

Then, God of all my anguish,
This single boon I claim,
Now let me cease to languish,
Now strait subdue the flame.

259

IV

Or if still mark'd for bleeding,
Thy slave I must remain;
Oh let the wound succeeding
Some worthier lover gain.

V

And Love, with this complying,
Again let me endure;
Than keep thy victim sighing,
And never grant a cure.