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CHAPTER 7th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
Where Crispin's labours past protection shar'd,
Connexions, new, kind Providence prepar'd;
Which, now, appear'd to promise better things
Than fiery Serpent's fangs, and bitter Springs;
Murmurs, and menaces, and deep disgrace,
So oft experienc'd in his former place—
From post to post, thro' pains and perils led;
And, tho' securely bless'd with cloaths and bread,
Yet still continual agitations toss'd,
For Jordan's current had not yet been cross'd.
Seduc'd with placid smiles, and smoothest speech,
Again residing in a Tyrant's reach,
Tho' quails, and manna, Appetites might bless,
He still was wandering in a Wilderness!
Connexions, new, kind Providence prepar'd;
Which, now, appear'd to promise better things
Than fiery Serpent's fangs, and bitter Springs;
Murmurs, and menaces, and deep disgrace,
So oft experienc'd in his former place—
From post to post, thro' pains and perils led;
And, tho' securely bless'd with cloaths and bread,
Yet still continual agitations toss'd,
For Jordan's current had not yet been cross'd.
Seduc'd with placid smiles, and smoothest speech,
Again residing in a Tyrant's reach,
Tho' quails, and manna, Appetites might bless,
He still was wandering in a Wilderness!
He dreamt that nothing, now, endanger'd rest—
Of plenty—pleasure—permanence—possest!
A sumptuous habitation! vestments fair!
His food—fire—chattels—free from cost, and care.
Fancy now grasp'd the Canaanitish grapes—
Held flow'rs in ever-varying hues and shapes—
Rich milky fountains, and mellifluent show'rs,
But quite forgot the giants—forts—and tow'rs!
Ere long the fascinating Vision fled,
That thus allur'd his heart, and lull'd his head;
For, soon, with startling terrors, wide awake,
He found his error—felt his mad mistake!
Of plenty—pleasure—permanence—possest!
A sumptuous habitation! vestments fair!
His food—fire—chattels—free from cost, and care.
Fancy now grasp'd the Canaanitish grapes—
Held flow'rs in ever-varying hues and shapes—
Rich milky fountains, and mellifluent show'rs,
But quite forgot the giants—forts—and tow'rs!
Ere long the fascinating Vision fled,
That thus allur'd his heart, and lull'd his head;
For, soon, with startling terrors, wide awake,
He found his error—felt his mad mistake!
His Daphne, tho' no prophetess, profess'd,
Like fam'd Cassandra, felt her troubled breast,
Not anxious care, alone, and sorrow, swell,
With omens, direful, and prognostics, fell,
But warning words pronounc'd impending lot
In form and manner memory ne'er forgot—
What woes and pains would press each heavy hour,
When placed again within the Despot's pow'r!
That, when his flock was left, and he, alone,
Would pay his deep devoirs before her throne,
Her gracious compliments, and glowing smiles,
Might calm his cares, and mitigate his toils;
But when his Consort, and his Children, came
Within the influence of the ficke Dame,
Her Soul foresaw a striking change of state—
That strife, and taunts, and frowns, would be his fate—
For tried experience taught, from what was past,
In such a clime no sunshine long would last;
But soon by blustering storms, and biting frost,
Faith's leaves, and Friendship's flow'rs, would all be lost!
All Hope's fair flow'rs, by Fancy shown so bright,
Not fed by Love will fall by Passion's blight;
And all the summer fruits Faith sought to see,
Soon fell from Patronage's fruitless Tree!
Like fam'd Cassandra, felt her troubled breast,
Not anxious care, alone, and sorrow, swell,
With omens, direful, and prognostics, fell,
But warning words pronounc'd impending lot
In form and manner memory ne'er forgot—
What woes and pains would press each heavy hour,
When placed again within the Despot's pow'r!
That, when his flock was left, and he, alone,
Would pay his deep devoirs before her throne,
Her gracious compliments, and glowing smiles,
Might calm his cares, and mitigate his toils;
But when his Consort, and his Children, came
Within the influence of the ficke Dame,
Her Soul foresaw a striking change of state—
That strife, and taunts, and frowns, would be his fate—
For tried experience taught, from what was past,
In such a clime no sunshine long would last;
But soon by blustering storms, and biting frost,
Faith's leaves, and Friendship's flow'rs, would all be lost!
All Hope's fair flow'rs, by Fancy shown so bright,
Not fed by Love will fall by Passion's blight;
And all the summer fruits Faith sought to see,
Soon fell from Patronage's fruitless Tree!
Heav'n, in just vengeance for his impious wish,
To leave plain diet for high-season'd dish;
Great store of onions, leeks, and garlic, gave,
But fix'd him, firmly, as a servile Slave!
No cucumbers, or melon's, were denied—
The flesh-pots, and the fish, were well supplied—
But the pure bread from Heav'n no longer greets
The Spirit's palate with celestial sweets;
By daily bounty scatter'd from the Skies,
Of which one Omer ought a Saint suffice—
And all, whose greediness will gather more,
Find rottenness, and stench, corrupt their store!
The heavenly fountain, and fresh manna, fails,
While punishment pursues requests for quails,
Now doom'd again in Egypt's land to groan,
For the same female Pharaoh rul'd the throne.
To leave plain diet for high-season'd dish;
Great store of onions, leeks, and garlic, gave,
But fix'd him, firmly, as a servile Slave!
No cucumbers, or melon's, were denied—
The flesh-pots, and the fish, were well supplied—
But the pure bread from Heav'n no longer greets
The Spirit's palate with celestial sweets;
By daily bounty scatter'd from the Skies,
Of which one Omer ought a Saint suffice—
And all, whose greediness will gather more,
Find rottenness, and stench, corrupt their store!
The heavenly fountain, and fresh manna, fails,
While punishment pursues requests for quails,
Now doom'd again in Egypt's land to groan,
For the same female Pharaoh rul'd the throne.
Again, to bribe him she fresh arts essay'd,
To quit his Family and farming trade;
The vulgar village, and the pensive plain,
To brood beneath her gracious wings again,
And every pow'r and privilege enjoy,
That Potiphar conferr'd on Hebrew boy.
The full command of town, and country, domes—
The mingl'd furniture and motley tomes—
Vast reservoirs of stores, and rooms of state—
Proud magazines of parchments—and of plate—
Candles, and lamps, and various food for fire—
Chequer'd and tinsel'd suits of slaves attire—
Innumerous articles of daily bread
On which high Demigods, and Dupes, were fed;
With all the Beasts that form the stables store,
That stump on two legs, or which fly on four—
With endless items Wits would call uncouth;
Not fit for tuneful Registers of truth—
Such sounds as Tradesmens' catalogues might name,
But quite unfit for Chronicles of Fame—
Too trite; too tiresome; ludicrous, and large,
For ought but Butler's or Housekeeper's charge.
Vested with vast authority o'er all
That cram the kitchen, or that haunt the hall—
With many mammock'd fragments that remain'd
Which he and all his fellow-slaves sustained;
That round the royal presence proudly shine,
Inspect the wardrobe, or dispense the wine.
Authority o'er all but private pelf,
Trinkets, and toys; his Mistress, and—Himself:
For pow'r a greater gives, and can recal,
Is, in reality, no pow'r at all.
The mingled mass of treasure—time—and will—
The pow'r to nominate—the pow'r to nill—
To punish—to reward—deny—demur,
With all her adjuncts, center'd, sole, in Her.
Command of bodies, and command of Souls,
Subject to Her executive controuls;
All—all—depending on supreme decree,
Which left no other individual free.
To quit his Family and farming trade;
The vulgar village, and the pensive plain,
To brood beneath her gracious wings again,
And every pow'r and privilege enjoy,
That Potiphar conferr'd on Hebrew boy.
The full command of town, and country, domes—
The mingl'd furniture and motley tomes—
Vast reservoirs of stores, and rooms of state—
Proud magazines of parchments—and of plate—
Candles, and lamps, and various food for fire—
Chequer'd and tinsel'd suits of slaves attire—
Innumerous articles of daily bread
On which high Demigods, and Dupes, were fed;
With all the Beasts that form the stables store,
That stump on two legs, or which fly on four—
With endless items Wits would call uncouth;
Not fit for tuneful Registers of truth—
Such sounds as Tradesmens' catalogues might name,
But quite unfit for Chronicles of Fame—
Too trite; too tiresome; ludicrous, and large,
For ought but Butler's or Housekeeper's charge.
131
That cram the kitchen, or that haunt the hall—
With many mammock'd fragments that remain'd
Which he and all his fellow-slaves sustained;
That round the royal presence proudly shine,
Inspect the wardrobe, or dispense the wine.
Authority o'er all but private pelf,
Trinkets, and toys; his Mistress, and—Himself:
For pow'r a greater gives, and can recal,
Is, in reality, no pow'r at all.
The mingled mass of treasure—time—and will—
The pow'r to nominate—the pow'r to nill—
To punish—to reward—deny—demur,
With all her adjuncts, center'd, sole, in Her.
Command of bodies, and command of Souls,
Subject to Her executive controuls;
All—all—depending on supreme decree,
Which left no other individual free.
This was a pure, unmix'd, despotic, state—
Small room for council—none for free debate.
No pow'r to stop, to turn, or to restrain,
One wheel of government, or golden grain:
And, maugre all sophistic arguments,
Such are all cunning Tyrants' clear intents.
What He possess'd of influence, or of force,
Was barely borrow'd from the sovereign source;
All faint reflection from the thrifty Throne;
No warmth, no radiance, could He call his own.
Weak, lunar, light, such Primaries dispense.
As guards of Liberty, or guides of Sense—
In fact, such Slaves, as Secondaries, run,
In different orbits, round their central Sun;
And He was only placed, o'er other Loons,
First Minister among inferior Moons.
Oft meaner Moons, in each revolving race,
Were suffer'd to usurp superior place;
Encourag'd, or commanded to appear,
With fuller influence in his proper sphere;
While dull, in different aspects, he, displays,
Each day—each hour—each moment—different phase—
Now horn'd—bisected—gibbous—full—or dark—
As She transmitted each proportion'd spark.
Full oft the Earth's dark shadows crept between—
Then were the beams of brightness seldom seen—
And when this World obscur'd brows, eyes, and lips,
Poor Crispin suffer'd a complete eclipse!
Small room for council—none for free debate.
No pow'r to stop, to turn, or to restrain,
One wheel of government, or golden grain:
And, maugre all sophistic arguments,
Such are all cunning Tyrants' clear intents.
What He possess'd of influence, or of force,
Was barely borrow'd from the sovereign source;
All faint reflection from the thrifty Throne;
No warmth, no radiance, could He call his own.
Weak, lunar, light, such Primaries dispense.
As guards of Liberty, or guides of Sense—
In fact, such Slaves, as Secondaries, run,
In different orbits, round their central Sun;
And He was only placed, o'er other Loons,
First Minister among inferior Moons.
Oft meaner Moons, in each revolving race,
Were suffer'd to usurp superior place;
Encourag'd, or commanded to appear,
With fuller influence in his proper sphere;
While dull, in different aspects, he, displays,
Each day—each hour—each moment—different phase—
Now horn'd—bisected—gibbous—full—or dark—
As She transmitted each proportion'd spark.
Full oft the Earth's dark shadows crept between—
Then were the beams of brightness seldom seen—
And when this World obscur'd brows, eyes, and lips,
Poor Crispin suffer'd a complete eclipse!
Such changes oft are found among the Great,
Suns, and attendant Satellites of State,
Where Ministers, and Courtiers, form the rings,
Circles, concentric, round the thrones of Kings.
Where, with soft smiles, when mighty Monarch speaks,
Their fluttering pulses play ten thousand freaks;
But if his voice revolts, and features frown,
The hapless Panders hang, or shoot, or drown.
Suns, and attendant Satellites of State,
Where Ministers, and Courtiers, form the rings,
Circles, concentric, round the thrones of Kings.
Where, with soft smiles, when mighty Monarch speaks,
Their fluttering pulses play ten thousand freaks;
But if his voice revolts, and features frown,
The hapless Panders hang, or shoot, or drown.
By such precarious tenure Crispin held—
Caprice attracted, or Caprice repell'd:
Nought constant stood but ostentatious Pride,
And mix'd emotions to its Lusts allied;
For stablish'd Prejudice their strength maintain'd,
'Mid pow'rful Passions, which, alternate, reign'd.
Caprice attracted, or Caprice repell'd:
Nought constant stood but ostentatious Pride,
And mix'd emotions to its Lusts allied;
For stablish'd Prejudice their strength maintain'd,
'Mid pow'rful Passions, which, alternate, reign'd.
Those, tho' perverted, still feel faultless laws,
All things depending on the parent Cause.
A petty type of that stupendous plan
That, to his Maker, ties poor peccant Man;
Where the wide chasm, thro' that unbounded space,
Is occupied by Mercy—Love—and Grace!
All things depending on the parent Cause.
A petty type of that stupendous plan
That, to his Maker, ties poor peccant Man;
Where the wide chasm, thro' that unbounded space,
Is occupied by Mercy—Love—and Grace!
In this the vast essential difference lies,
Betwixt the Government of Earth and Skies;
Knaves, Fools, or Frantics, here, may sit supreme;
There, One, all-perfect, holds the Blade, and Beam—
Weighs every Wight in Wisdom's equal scales,
And wards, or wounds, as Love, or Lust, prevails;
But each, with boundless Charity, suspends,
Till, with the term of Life, all Tryal ends!
Meantime, tho' punishments may oft have place,
None can, distinctly, all their pointings trace;
For, tho' on Emperor—Peer—Mechanic—Clown—
He drops, apparent, partial blessings down—
And tho' to ignorant Mortals' misty sights,
He gives the worldly Great all Earth's delights;
In Angel's eyes, the happiest, and the high'st,
Is he whose Faith—Hopes—Comforts—rest on Christ—
In Earth, and Heav'n, the most completely bless'd,
Who copies, clear, His perfect pattern best—
Betwixt the Government of Earth and Skies;
Knaves, Fools, or Frantics, here, may sit supreme;
There, One, all-perfect, holds the Blade, and Beam—
Weighs every Wight in Wisdom's equal scales,
And wards, or wounds, as Love, or Lust, prevails;
But each, with boundless Charity, suspends,
Till, with the term of Life, all Tryal ends!
Meantime, tho' punishments may oft have place,
None can, distinctly, all their pointings trace;
For, tho' on Emperor—Peer—Mechanic—Clown—
He drops, apparent, partial blessings down—
And tho' to ignorant Mortals' misty sights,
He gives the worldly Great all Earth's delights;
In Angel's eyes, the happiest, and the high'st,
Is he whose Faith—Hopes—Comforts—rest on Christ—
In Earth, and Heav'n, the most completely bless'd,
Who copies, clear, His perfect pattern best—
Here God oft gives to simpler Souls, obscure,
An honest heart—firm faith—and spirit pure!
On bootless Toil confers far better dow'r,
Than dangerous Riches, or obnoxious Pow'r—
On pious Pauper, more content bestows
Than impious Prelate—Prince—or Monarch, knows!
An honest heart—firm faith—and spirit pure!
On bootless Toil confers far better dow'r,
Than dangerous Riches, or obnoxious Pow'r—
On pious Pauper, more content bestows
Than impious Prelate—Prince—or Monarch, knows!
Will Wisdom, infinite, and Love, divine,
Respect those most where bounteous gifts combine?
Which gave them sprightly Health? and spirits gay?
More charms of Mind, and comelier-moddl'd Clay?
Wealth—Honours—Influence—every treacherous trust,
All prone to tempt the Soul to Pride and Lust!
More than those Creatures, that His kind regard,
From all such traps, and trials, thus debarr'd?
Mortals might then condemn their Maker's deed,
For faults, and follies, which from Pride proceed.
Whose wishes, rash, Themsleves as idols, raise—
Fill their frail censers with sweet fumes of praise—
Spread o'er each faulty part some gilt disguise
Then offer all, to Self—fond Sacrifice!
Respect those most where bounteous gifts combine?
132
More charms of Mind, and comelier-moddl'd Clay?
Wealth—Honours—Influence—every treacherous trust,
All prone to tempt the Soul to Pride and Lust!
More than those Creatures, that His kind regard,
From all such traps, and trials, thus debarr'd?
Mortals might then condemn their Maker's deed,
For faults, and follies, which from Pride proceed.
Whose wishes, rash, Themsleves as idols, raise—
Fill their frail censers with sweet fumes of praise—
Spread o'er each faulty part some gilt disguise
Then offer all, to Self—fond Sacrifice!
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CHAPTER 7th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |