University of Virginia Library

Thealma, a Funeral Eclogue:

On the Death of Mrs. Jane Roderick.

Daphnis, Alexis, Almeria.
DAPHNIS.
Welcome, Alexis, from the Cambrian Air;
Not more they griev'd the sweet Thealma there,
Than thy long Absence was lamented here.
—Ha!—from what Cause do these new Sighs arise?
Why dost thou beat thy Breast and heave thy Eyes?
Almeria's well; and she all other Loss supplies.

ALEXIS.
She is, indeed, of all my Joys the Chief,
And 'tis that Thought which now revives my Grief:
To see her will afresh my Woes renew,
And set the dead Thealma full in View.
O Friend! 'tis an Affliction so severe,
As without strong Support I cou'd not bear!
My Eyes scarce for the best of Master's dry'd,
Before that dearest, best of Sisters dy'd!
To what e'er Fate the rest of Men are born,
I seem, my Daphnis, only made to Mourn.

DAPHNIS.
Too true, Alexis, we have oft been seen
With Briny Tears to wet this Verdant Green:
The Beaute'ous Flow'ers, in all their Balmy Pride,
Have with the Fatal Moisture pin'd and dy'd:
The Sheep, abandon'd, our Despair have told,
And kindly, to divert our Sorrows, bleated for the Fold:
But ne'er till this Inauspicious Hour
Did I e'er see thee Rain so free a Show'r.

ALEXIS.
Ah Daphnis! (tho' it scarce may gain Belief)
You see but now the Leavings of my Grief:
Cou'd I my Loss, and all her Worth relate,
You'd think I mourn her at too mean a Rate,
Forget her Dead, and poorly side with Fate.

DAPHNIS.
I well remember (tho' but short her stay)
When she from far a Visit came to pay;
Her Converse not ev'n more by you desir'd
Than here by all our Rural Youth admir'd,
A Conq'ring Pow'r she in her Aspect bore,
Made by an unaffected Sweetness more.
No look was grating, and no Motion strain'd
Yet Caution still preserv'd, and Decency maintain'd.
The Study'd Arts, and ev'ry Am'rous Toil
Which others use their Lovers to beguile,
She render'd vain with one victorious Smile.
Th'inviting Nymph does ev'ry Shepherd pall;
She minded none, and yet subdu'd 'em all.
When e'er we Danc'd, in graceful Movements, She
Alone made Measure vie with Harmony:
Others might look with a more lofty Air,
But all in vain; she had the Eye, the Ear,
Our Thoughts, our Looks, our very Souls were there!

ALEXIS.
And yet, my Friend, you in this Truth must join,
Her Beauties then were just in their Decline:
But if she warm'd ev'n in her Western Sun,
Who cou'd withstand th'intenser Rays at Noon!
A noble View in her Decay was shown,
But, youthful all the Graces were her own.
Those soft Remains so much admir'd by you,
I saw, my Daphnis, in their vernal Hue,
When Rose nor Lilly cou'd such Colour prove,
Nor scarce th'Immortal Amaranth above!
Then lay our Youth all Dying at her Feet;
O truly Lovely! and Profusely Sweet!—
This for her Form;—but in her Mind there lay
A thousand secret Beauties, worthy Day;
Nor shall they with her to the Grave retire,
If Verse can Charm, or Love and Grief Inspire.
'Tis true, she mov'd in no Illustrious Sphere,
But she the more cou'd influence being near;
Tho' not of the first Magnitude in Light,
Yet, in Proportion, equally as bright.
Her Modesty was by some Angels drawn,
The Colours mingl'd with the blushing Dawn;
Nor in her Mind a meaner Station took,
Tun'd by her Tongue, and sweetn'd with her Look!
So chast her Converse, like a vestal Flame
She breath'd a Purity where e'er she came.
Whether it were her Goodness, Pow'r or Skill,
When she reprov'd there was no doing ill;
So much she calm'd the Blood, and sway'd the Will.
No base Discourse (for not the nicest Ear
Will the flagitious Sons of Lewdness spare)
Cou'd to her Mind find out the smallest Track;
Still met with Blushes, or sent blushing back.
Her Vertues, like her Air, their Credit gain'd,
As easie this as those were unconstrain'd.
Thorny and rugged some believe the Way
That leads to bliss,—or Thorns they there wou'd lay
T'excuse themselves and others when they stray.
Brought to a Habit; none e'er smoothlier cou'd
Go on to Evil than she went to Good.
In her all-kindly Eyes we might behold
A wond'rous Goodness, never to be told!
Thro' which was strangely and distinctly seen
How all the happy Movements workt within:
Like Hives of Glass that thro' the Fabrick shew
How Bees dispose their rich Ambrosial Dew.
Deceit and Pride, the Vices of the Fair,
We might perceive had no Existence there:
No Room in those bright Regions cou'd they find,
So far her Sex was distant from her Mind
Her Piety, at once sublime and strong,
Was all around with holy Trophies hung;
The Noble Fruit of Vertue rooted young.
The time she cou'd from Rest and Business spare
Was all Contrition, Penitence and Prayer.
Nor was her Vertue of the rigid kind,
Exposing ev'ry Errour it cou'd find;
Nor stretcht its Censure to the inmost Thought,
Denouncing Hell for ev'ry casual Fau't;
Such Vertue is at best, so over-nice,
A Virulence that but declaims at Vice.
Hers always was a kind and Gene'rous Frame,
That, being good, thought all the World the same.
Her Openness 'tis true, with Wrong might meet;
But better to be cheated than to cheat.
Just the like Praise my own Almeria wins;
By Nature Sisters and in Vertue Twins.—
But does she still the same Impatience wear?
I have not seen her yet, but sent she'd meet me here.

DAPHNIS.
Just as you left her;—still her Tears supply
The Streams of Grief, as they wou'd ne'er be dry.—
But wrapt in Sables, see! she hither hies,
And her whole Soul as issuing from her Eyes!

ALEXIS.
Aid me, ye Pow'rs to Man it out!—and Thou
O Friend! if ever, give Assistance now:
The softest Thoughts that Comfort can excite
Call to thy Mind,—and set her Notions right.

ALMERIA.
My dear Alexis! tho' too long your stay—
Welcome! most welcome!—all I yet can say.
I thank th'Immortals for thy safe Return:—
But my poor dear Thealma's Fate I must for ever mourn!

ALEXIS.
O Let me in my Arms thy Body close!
And here for ever hide thee from my Woes!
The Debt I've paid that was Thealma's Due;
Ah! do not—do not thou unman me too!
Thy Sorrows with the last Distress I see;
Nor longer can my Tears with thine agree,
For now I grieve to take a Part from thee.

ALMERIA.
In vain, Alexis, You this Care impart,
The Weight is sunk, and settl'd at my Heart;
There like a heavy Mass of Lead it lies,
Bleeds in my Breast and gushes from my Eyes.

DAPHNIS.
Mark, but how vainly Passion makes you move;
Unjust to the two dearest things you Love!
For her you mourn that is to Glory gone,
And, careless, let Alexis languish on:
Regard, Almeria, such a Consorts Peace;
As 'tis your Grief he mourns, your Grief of Course shou'd cease.

ALMERIA.
'Tis kind and I will struggle to forbear;—
But I've a thousand Things to ask, and hear.
Let there I beg, be nothing from me hid,
Not the minutest thing she said or did:
All the whole Progress, first and last relate,
Her Sickness, Patience, Penitence and Fate:
So strong a Ply to Goodness she receiv'd,
She cou'd not die less vertuous than she liv'd.

ALEXIS.
Take then the History from the Day of Care
I left thee wedded to Affliction here.
All gloomy like our Sorrows, was the Morn.
I parted hence, and Light did grudgingly return.
Three weeping Days I travell'd thro' the Plain,
Thro' rising Waters, and thro' falling Rain,
Ambitious to ascend the Clouds again.
Three more o'er craggy Cliffs thro' pathless Woods,
By deep devouring Boggs and rapid Floods,
I yet went on;—Impending Horrors there,
And yet more frightful Precipices here.
Thrice did we pass th'Averno's Raging Stream,
All wild and dreadful as a Stygian Dream.
Here to the Clouds th'aspiring Rocks did rise,
And seem'd, like Atlas, to support the Skies:
Down from their Ragged Sides the Cataracts roar'd,
And in their Passage dismal Hollows boar'd.
A hundred Spouts at once, with Echoing Sound,
Their hide'ous Din did thro' the Air rebound.
Mean while the Light'ning thro' the Gloom appear'd,
But in this Scene of Terrors scarce was fear'd;
Nor, tho' so nigh, was yet the Thunder heard.
But now descended to the Neighbou'ring Vale,
Patience and Courage too began to fail:
A furious Torrent just before us lay,
And not a Bridge, or Guide to point the way:
Ten times we cross'd it—which with fresh Supplies,
Pouring at once both from the Hills and Skies,
Still as we further went did higher rise.
But who can all our Dangers to You tell?
Again we mounted, and again we fell.
At last the Ocean to our View appear'd,
Which more than all we yet had seen we fear'd:
An Arm of which, a dange'rous Pass, there lay
That we must cross;—there was no other way:
The Ebb we watch'd; and was no sooner o'er,
But we beheld it cover'd from the Shore,
And all a Sea, where all was Sand before.
The Winds by this time all their Fury try'd,
And rais'd a Tempest to assist the Tyde,
Which of it self all Human Pow'r defy'd.
I that had never seen the Sea before,
Shrunk to see Mountains tumble to the Shore;
The Curling Waves each other Should'ring on,
Like Routed Armies when the Field is won:
Dashing the Rocks, they there their Pow'r contend;
But there (the Fate of Pride) they all in Ruin end.

ALMERIA.
No more, Alexis; tho' I see you here,
And Danger past, I yet that Danger fear;
The bare Relation shocks my trembling Ear—
It was unkind in me to let you go.

ALEXIS.
But 'twas Almeria, what you did not know—
At last, there open'd to our View a Scene
Of ample Breadth and ever verdant Green;
Like that to which the Trojan Chief was led,
After he past the Regions of the Dead:
The Soil almost like ours, the Air as sweet,
A Little Albion 'tis behind the Great,
Where stands the Noble Griffithina's Seat.
The happy Plains she there has govern'd long,
Grace in her Mein, and Musick on her Tongue:
Never was yet her Hospitable Door
Shut to the Good, or slung against the Poor.
Prudence and Vertue all her Actions Grace;
Of vast Possessions, and an Ancient Race.
Nothing she says, and nothing does design
Unfit for a Descendent of her Line.
This Noble Dame, to whom she long was known,
Still lov'd our dear Thealma as her own,
(The truest Breeding lowest Condescends)
And Enter'd in her happy Roll of Friends.
But vain, alas! her Pow'r, her Love and Skill,
For here Thealma took her Fatal Ill;
And (as she nothing yet but Health had known)
At the first Seisure gave her Life for gone:
Nor did the Thought her Fear or Doubt create,
But strengthn'd her Submission to her Fate.
As soon as Ill disposing her Affairs,
All her Remaining Time was Prayer and Tears:
Tho' ne'er was Life more distant from Offence,
Or Death that less had Need of Penitence.
But now the Malady much stronger grew,
And to her Brain, the Seat of Reason, flew;
At once did all her Train of Thoughts displace:
And introduc'd, instead, a Raving Race:
For Prudence (where there late so much was shown)
We might enquire; but all, alas! was gone,
All but Chimæra's, Dreams, and Notions not her own.

ALMERIA.
Unhappy Fate! to be so far Remov'd
From all that lov'd her, and that best she lov'd:
From all that Comfort to Affliction lends,
Her near Relations and her dearest Friends!
The very Thought she had not Pow'r to bear,
Nor I, Alexis, scarce the Pow'r to hear!
She had perhaps some Secret to unfold,
Which she wou'd only to my self have told:
This foster'd in her Heart a gnawing Pain,
And sent up thence a Ferment to the Brain—
Tell, I adjure you, if aright I aim;
Did she not Sigh, and Rave Almeria's Name?—
(Ah! cruel Heav'n! regardless of her Cries!)
And wish me there to close her Dying Eyes!

DAPHNIS.
You that can thus find out new Ways to Grief,
As well shou'd think on others for Relief.
Can there a better Fate the Globe contain,
Than to the last Repentant to remain,
And then dissolve without the Sense of Pain?
Wou'd you, Almeria, think your Doom severe,
(And nothing does resemble hers so near)
To dream of Heav'n, and, waking, find y'are there?

ALEXIS.
But now the Fever did its Rage abate,—
In vain;—the Lagging Mercy came too late:
So tho' a Vessel from a Storm's releas'd,
Disable'd, it may sink when that is ceas'd.
Howe'er, a Gracious Interval it sends,
To take a last Adieu of all her Friends.
There she to you her dying Love did give,
And wish'd we long in Mutu'al Peace might live;
That we'd prepare against our Hour came on,
And least of all lament the SISTER gone.
Here Sweetness she with Death did reconcile,
And met the Grisly Terrour with a Smile!—
O calm of Mind! O Visage free from Fears!—
But ev'ry Face beside was hid in Tears!
First Griffithina did her Loss deplore,
And in her Looks a kind Dejection wore;
Scarce for her HEIR she had lamented more.
From thence the Fatal News o'er all the Plains
Spread like Distraction to the Nymphs and Swains.
But now the Day she was Interr'd is come
And ne'er was Nymph attended nobler home!
The loud Laments, so Gene'ral ne'er before,
Half reach'd the Opposite Hibernian Shore.
Those that had yet not griev'd her, here were mov'd;
That all might mourn what was by all belov'd.
O Edern! safe her Sacred Relicks keep,
Till she Triumphant 'wakes no more to Sleep:
And on her Tomb permit the Lines I grav'd;—
Tho' for themselves they beg not to be sav'd.

ALMERIA.
Repeat to us, Alexis, what they were
And—if my Tears will give me Leave—I'll hear.

ALEXIS.
To Molde'ring Stone our Memories to trust,
Is to be soon forgot;—'tis Dust to Dust.
Tho' her Good Deeds on Adamant were wrote
With all the Life of Wit, and Strength of Thought,
'Twere yet in vain;—Or Fire, or Time consumes,
And tumbles down our Temples on our Tombs.
If we wou'd have her Vertues still in Sight,
We must on Paper, not on Marble write:
Some happy Genius draw her Image there:—
These meaner Lines will serve to perish here.

ALMERIA.
No; be it thy Attempt to let her live;—
Who knows what Date a faithful Praise may give?
Not one of all the Patrons you bemoan
Remember'd thee in Death as SHE has done:
A Legacy she leaves that may excite
The Coldest Muse to do her Vertues Right.

ALEXIS.
O there a Thousand other Causes are
To pay that Duty,—and the least will bear.
In all Distresses a most ready Friend;
Such she began, and so at last did end.
Beside, I doubly shou'd ungrateful be
If I refus'd her Praise when 'tis desir'd by THEE;
Nor shall the Subject longer be delay'd;—
Inspir'd by thy Request, I'll seek no other Aid.
A Noble Pile to Chastity I'll frame,
With all beside that may advance her Fame,
And set it out in dear Thealma's Name:
Thealma! ev'ry Nymph and Swain shall sing,
Thealma! all the Woods and Vallies ring,
As Ceres just were ripe, or Flora op'ning spring.
Ev'n distant Climes her Praises shall recite,
And you at last confess I've done her Vertues right—
All that Remains, is now to cease our Moan,
And in our Mutu'al Love make up the Blessing gone.