 | Poems, and a tragedy |  |
113
KNOWLEDGE:
AN ODE.
115
S. Ann. Æt. Auct. 18.
Ducit in errorem variorum ambage viarum.
Ovid.
Ovid.
High on a hill's green bosom laid,
At ease my careless fancy stray'd,
And o'er the landscape ran:
Reviv'd, what scenes the seasons shew;
And weigh'd, what share of joy or woe
Is doom'd to toiling man.
At ease my careless fancy stray'd,
And o'er the landscape ran:
Reviv'd, what scenes the seasons shew;
And weigh'd, what share of joy or woe
Is doom'd to toiling man.
The nibbling flocks around me bleat;
The oxen low beneath my feet,
Along the clover'd dale;
The golden sheaves the reapers bind,
The ploughman whistles near behind,
And breaks the new mown vale.
The oxen low beneath my feet,
Along the clover'd dale;
The golden sheaves the reapers bind,
The ploughman whistles near behind,
And breaks the new mown vale.
116
“Hail Knowledge! gift of Heaven!” I cried,
“E'en all the gifts of Heaven beside,
“Compared to thee how low!
“The blessings of the earth, and all
“The beasts of fold and forest share,
“But godlike beings know.
“E'en all the gifts of Heaven beside,
“Compared to thee how low!
“The blessings of the earth, and all
“The beasts of fold and forest share,
“But godlike beings know.
“How mean the short-liv'd joys of sense;
“But how sublime the excellence
“Of Wisdom's sacred lore!
“In Death's deep shades what nations lie,
“Yet still can Wisdom's piercing eye
“Their mighty deeds explore.
“But how sublime the excellence
“Of Wisdom's sacred lore!
“In Death's deep shades what nations lie,
“Yet still can Wisdom's piercing eye
“Their mighty deeds explore.
“She sees the little Spartan band,
“With great Leonidas, withstand
“The Asian world in arms;
“She hears the heav'nly sounds that hung
“On Homer's and on Plato's tongue,
“And glows at Tully's charms.
“With great Leonidas, withstand
“The Asian world in arms;
“She hears the heav'nly sounds that hung
“On Homer's and on Plato's tongue,
“And glows at Tully's charms.
117
“The wonders of the spacious sky,
“She penetrates with Newton's eye,
“And marks the planets' roll:
“The human mind with Locke she scans;
“With Cambray, Virtue's fame she fans,
“And lifts to heaven the soul.
“She penetrates with Newton's eye,
“And marks the planets' roll:
“The human mind with Locke she scans;
“With Cambray, Virtue's fame she fans,
“And lifts to heaven the soul.
“How matter takes ten thousand forms
“Of metals, plants, of men and worms;
“She joys to trace with Boyle.
“This life she deems an infant state,
“A gleam, that bodes a life complete,
“Beyond the mortal toil.
“Of metals, plants, of men and worms;
“She joys to trace with Boyle.
“This life she deems an infant state,
“A gleam, that bodes a life complete,
“Beyond the mortal toil.
“What numerous ills in life befall!
“Yet Wisdom learns to scorn them all,
“And arms the breast with steel:
“E'en Death's pale face no horror wears;
“But ah! what horrid pangs and fears
“Unknowing wretches feel!
“Yet Wisdom learns to scorn them all,
“And arms the breast with steel:
“E'en Death's pale face no horror wears;
“But ah! what horrid pangs and fears
“Unknowing wretches feel!
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“That breast excels proud Ophir's mines,
“And fairer than the morning shines,
“Where Wisdom's treasures glow:
“But ah! how void yon peasant's mind,
“His thoughts how darken'd and confin'd,
“Nor cares he more to know.
“And fairer than the morning shines,
“Where Wisdom's treasures glow:
“But ah! how void yon peasant's mind,
“His thoughts how darken'd and confin'd,
“Nor cares he more to know.
“The last two tenants of the ground,
“Of ancient times his history bound;
“Alas! it scarce goes higher:
“In vain to him is Maro's strain,
“And Shakespeare's magic powers in vain;
“In vain is Milton's fire.
“Of ancient times his history bound;
“Alas! it scarce goes higher:
“In vain to him is Maro's strain,
“And Shakespeare's magic powers in vain;
“In vain is Milton's fire.
“Nor sun by day, nor stars by night,
“Can give his soul the grand delight
“To trace Almighty power:
“His team thinks just as much as he
“Of Nature's vast variety,
“In animal and flower.”
“Can give his soul the grand delight
“To trace Almighty power:
“His team thinks just as much as he
“Of Nature's vast variety,
“In animal and flower.”
119
As thus I sung, a solemn sound
Accosts mine ear; I look'd around,
And lo! an ancient sage,
Hard by an ivy'd oak stood near,
That fenc'd the cave, where many a year
Had been his hermitage.
Accosts mine ear; I look'd around,
And lo! an ancient sage,
Hard by an ivy'd oak stood near,
That fenc'd the cave, where many a year
Had been his hermitage.
His mantle grey flow'd loose behind,
His snowy beard wav'd to the wind,
And added solemn grace;
His broad bald front gave dignity,
Attention mark'd his lively eye,
And peace smil'd in his face.
His snowy beard wav'd to the wind,
And added solemn grace;
His broad bald front gave dignity,
Attention mark'd his lively eye,
And peace smil'd in his face.
He beckon'd with his wrinkled hand;
My ear was all at his command,
And thus the sage began:
“Godlike it is to know, I own;
“But oh! how little can be known,
“By poor short-sighted man.
My ear was all at his command,
And thus the sage began:
“Godlike it is to know, I own;
“But oh! how little can be known,
“By poor short-sighted man.
120
“Go, mark the schools where letter'd pride,
“And star crown'd science boastful guide,
“Display their fairest light;
“There, led by some pale meteor's ray,
“That leaves them oft, the sages stray,
“And grope in endless night.
“And star crown'd science boastful guide,
“Display their fairest light;
“There, led by some pale meteor's ray,
“That leaves them oft, the sages stray,
“And grope in endless night.
“Of wisdom proud, yon sage exclaims,
“Virtue and Vice are merely names,
“And changing every hour;
“Ashley, how loud in Virtue's praise!
“Yet Ashley with a kiss betrays,
“And strips her of her dower.
“Virtue and Vice are merely names,
“And changing every hour;
“Ashley, how loud in Virtue's praise!
“Yet Ashley with a kiss betrays,
“And strips her of her dower.
“Hark, Bolingbroke his God arraigns;
“Hobbes smiles on vice; Descartes maintains
“A Godless passive cause.
“See Bayle oft slily shifting round,
“Would fondly fix on sceptic ground,
“And change, O Truth! thy laws.
“Hobbes smiles on vice; Descartes maintains
“A Godless passive cause.
“See Bayle oft slily shifting round,
“Would fondly fix on sceptic ground,
“And change, O Truth! thy laws.
121
“And what the joy this love bestows
“Alas, no joy, no hope it knows
“Above what bestials claim:
“To quench our noblest native fire
“That bids to nobler worlds aspire
“Is all its hope, its aim.
“Alas, no joy, no hope it knows
“Above what bestials claim:
“To quench our noblest native fire
“That bids to nobler worlds aspire
“Is all its hope, its aim.
“Not Afric's wilds, nor Babel's waste,
“Where Ignorance her tents hath plac'd
“More dismal scene display
“A scene where Virtue sickening dies,
“Where Vice to dark extinction flies,
“And spurns the future day.
“Where Ignorance her tents hath plac'd
“More dismal scene display
“A scene where Virtue sickening dies,
“Where Vice to dark extinction flies,
“And spurns the future day.
“Wisdom, you boast to you is given;
“At night then mark the fires of heaven,
“And let thy mind explore;
“Swift as the light'ning let it fly
“From star to star, from sky to sky,
“still, still, are millions more.
“At night then mark the fires of heaven,
“And let thy mind explore;
“Swift as the light'ning let it fly
“From star to star, from sky to sky,
“still, still, are millions more.
122
“Th'immense ideas strike the soul
“With pleasing horror, and controul
“Thy Wisdom's empty boast,
“What are they?—Thou can'st never say:
“Then silent adoration pay,
“And be in wonder lost.
“With pleasing horror, and controul
“Thy Wisdom's empty boast,
“What are they?—Thou can'st never say:
“Then silent adoration pay,
“And be in wonder lost.
“Say how the self-same roots produce
“The wholesome food and poisonous juice;
“And Adders, balsams yield;
“How fierce the lurking tyger glares,
“How mild the heifer with thee shares
“The labours of the field?
“The wholesome food and poisonous juice;
“And Adders, balsams yield;
“How fierce the lurking tyger glares,
“How mild the heifer with thee shares
“The labours of the field?
“Why growling to his den retires
“The sullen pard, while joy inspires
“Yon happy sportive lambs?
“Now scatter'd o'er the hill they stray
“Now weary of their gambling play,
“All single out their dams.
“The sullen pard, while joy inspires
“Yon happy sportive lambs?
“Now scatter'd o'er the hill they stray
“Now weary of their gambling play,
“All single out their dams.
123
“Instinct directs—But what is that?
“Fond man thou never canst say what:
“Oh short thy searches fall,
“By stumbling chance, and slow degrees
“The useful arts of men increase,
“But this at once is all.
“Fond man thou never canst say what:
“Oh short thy searches fall,
“By stumbling chance, and slow degrees
“The useful arts of men increase,
“But this at once is all.
“A trunk first floats along the deep,
“Long ages still improve the ship
“'Till she commands the shore,
“But never bird improv'd her nest,
“Each all at once of powers possest,
“Which ne'er can rise to more.
“Long ages still improve the ship
“'Till she commands the shore,
“But never bird improv'd her nest,
“Each all at once of powers possest,
“Which ne'er can rise to more.
“That down the steep the waters flow,
“That weight descends, we see, we know,
“But why, can ne'er explain;
“Then humbly weighing Nature's laws,
“To God's high will ascribe the cause,
“And own thy wisdom vain.
“That weight descends, we see, we know,
“But why, can ne'er explain;
“Then humbly weighing Nature's laws,
“To God's high will ascribe the cause,
“And own thy wisdom vain.
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“For still the more thou knowest, the more
“Shalt thou the vanity deplore
“Of all thy soul can find.
“This life a sickly woeful dream,
“A burial of the soul will seem
“A palsy of the mind.
“Shalt thou the vanity deplore
“Of all thy soul can find.
“This life a sickly woeful dream,
“A burial of the soul will seem
“A palsy of the mind.
“Tho' Knowledge scorns the peasant's fear,
“Alas, it points the secret spear
“Of many a nameless woe.
“Thy delicacy dips the dart
“In rankling gall, and gives a smart
“Beyond what he can know.
“Alas, it points the secret spear
“Of many a nameless woe.
“Thy delicacy dips the dart
“In rankling gall, and gives a smart
“Beyond what he can know.
“How happy then the simple mind,
“Of yon unknown and labouring hind,
“Where all is smiling peace!
“No thoughts of more exalted joy
“His present bliss one hour destroy,
“Nor rob one moment's ease,
“Of yon unknown and labouring hind,
“Where all is smiling peace!
“No thoughts of more exalted joy
“His present bliss one hour destroy,
“Nor rob one moment's ease,
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“The stings neglected merit feels
“The pangs the virtuous man conceals,
“When crush'd by wayward fate.
“These are not found beneath his roof,
“Against them all securely proof,
“Heaven guards his humble state.
“The pangs the virtuous man conceals,
“When crush'd by wayward fate.
“These are not found beneath his roof,
“Against them all securely proof,
“Heaven guards his humble state.
“Knowledge or wealth to few are given,
“But mark how just the ways of Heaven;
“True joy to all is free,
“Nor wealth, nor knowledge grant the boon
“'Tis thine, O Conscience, thine alone,
“It all belongs to thee.
“But mark how just the ways of Heaven;
“True joy to all is free,
“Nor wealth, nor knowledge grant the boon
“'Tis thine, O Conscience, thine alone,
“It all belongs to thee.
“Blest in thy smiles the Shepherd lives
“Gay is his morn; his evening gives
“Content and sweet repose
“Without them—ever, ever cloy'd
“To Sage or Chief, one weary void
“Is all that life bestows.
“Gay is his morn; his evening gives
“Content and sweet repose
“Without them—ever, ever cloy'd
“To Sage or Chief, one weary void
“Is all that life bestows.
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“Then would'st thou mortal rise divine,
“Let innocence of soul be thine.
“With active goodness join'd,
“My heart shall then confess thee blest,
“And ever lively, joyful taste
“The pleasures of the mind.”
“Let innocence of soul be thine.
“With active goodness join'd,
“My heart shall then confess thee blest,
“And ever lively, joyful taste
“The pleasures of the mind.”
So spake the Sage: my heart reply'd,
“How poor, how blind is human pride,
“All joy how false and vain:
“But that from conscious worth which flows,
“Which gives the death-bed sweet repose,
“And hopes an after reign.”
“How poor, how blind is human pride,
“All joy how false and vain:
“But that from conscious worth which flows,
“Which gives the death-bed sweet repose,
“And hopes an after reign.”
| Poems, and a tragedy | |