Poems on Various Subjects By John Thelwall. In Two Volumes |
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Canto the First.
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
109
Canto the First.
Seduction's base, insinuating wiles,
The bitter anguish of the injur'd fair,
His guilt who quits the fair-one he beguiles,
And his (the sire's) who leaves her to despair,
With all their sad effects, I fain would sing:
Assist ye nymphs of the Pierian spring!
The bitter anguish of the injur'd fair,
His guilt who quits the fair-one he beguiles,
And his (the sire's) who leaves her to despair,
With all their sad effects, I fain would sing:
Assist ye nymphs of the Pierian spring!
But chiefly thou
who scorn'st to waste thy hours
With sport and revel in soft pleasure's train;
Slight'st the deep bowl, and pastime's jocund bow'rs,
Where banquets gay the social tribe detain;
Seek'st the dejected, friendless, and opprest,
And with thy dreams becalm'st the troubled breast.
With sport and revel in soft pleasure's train;
Slight'st the deep bowl, and pastime's jocund bow'rs,
Where banquets gay the social tribe detain;
Seek'st the dejected, friendless, and opprest,
And with thy dreams becalm'st the troubled breast.
110
Oh plaintive virgin! to the call appear
Of one the meanest of the tuneful throng,
To whom the fair and sacred muse are dear;
Who scorns or sacred muse or fair to wrong;
Whose moral strain, tho' void of graceful art,
Shall still essay to mend the human heart.
Of one the meanest of the tuneful throng,
To whom the fair and sacred muse are dear;
Who scorns or sacred muse or fair to wrong;
Whose moral strain, tho' void of graceful art,
Shall still essay to mend the human heart.
Ah me! I grieve my pow'r so small to find!
I grieve to think no classic lore improv'd,
No timely learning cultur'd in my mind
The ray of science I so fondly lov'd!
Yet, tho' no classic elegance adorn,
Let none my well meant story treat with scorn.
I grieve to think no classic lore improv'd,
No timely learning cultur'd in my mind
The ray of science I so fondly lov'd!
Yet, tho' no classic elegance adorn,
Let none my well meant story treat with scorn.
'Tis not a tale of modern days I sing:
The muse shall here exert her magick pow'r,
And forth to view a sad adventure bring
Which long oblivion labour'd to devour.
Yet Saxon legends may to scorn display
A vice too common in the present day.
The muse shall here exert her magick pow'r,
And forth to view a sad adventure bring
Which long oblivion labour'd to devour.
Yet Saxon legends may to scorn display
A vice too common in the present day.
111
Say, sad inspirer of my mournful theme!—
Rest thy slow fingers from the weeping lyre,
And say, what waken'd Damon from his dream
Of thoughtless joy? Then to thy solemn wire
My voice I'll tune, and as the numbers flow
Each sympathetic breast shall melt with woe.
Rest thy slow fingers from the weeping lyre,
And say, what waken'd Damon from his dream
Of thoughtless joy? Then to thy solemn wire
My voice I'll tune, and as the numbers flow
Each sympathetic breast shall melt with woe.
For cheerless thrice had hoary winter frown'd,
And thrice had spring her bosom'd sweets display'd,
And autumn thrice had been with fruitage crown'd,
And summers three in waving gold array'd,
Since to his arts Amanda fell a prey:—
Nor had reflection crost his heedless way.
And thrice had spring her bosom'd sweets display'd,
And autumn thrice had been with fruitage crown'd,
And summers three in waving gold array'd,
Since to his arts Amanda fell a prey:—
Nor had reflection crost his heedless way.
Say then how conscience woke?—The jolly spring
Now smiles benevolent of breathing sweets;
Warbles each tuneful vagrant of the wing;
The foliage thickens in the green retreats;
Gay Flora sprinkles ev'ry verdant mead,
And sportive lambs in fertile pastures feed.
Now smiles benevolent of breathing sweets;
Warbles each tuneful vagrant of the wing;
The foliage thickens in the green retreats;
Gay Flora sprinkles ev'ry verdant mead,
And sportive lambs in fertile pastures feed.
112
Lur'd by the beauteous season of the year,
To far Northumbria Damon bends his way,
With young Pastorus, friendly and sincere,
Of blameless morals, as of manners gay;
Virtue and sense inspir'd his manly breast,
The Graces polish'd, and the Muses blest.
To far Northumbria Damon bends his way,
With young Pastorus, friendly and sincere,
Of blameless morals, as of manners gay;
Virtue and sense inspir'd his manly breast,
The Graces polish'd, and the Muses blest.
And now it chanc'd, what time the sportive sun
To wed the rosy-bosom'd June awoke—
From whose blest influence, when the world begun,
The twins had birth, while forth the violet broke,
The odorous hyacinth o'erspread the ground,
And each sweet flow'r luxuriant smil'd around.
To wed the rosy-bosom'd June awoke—
From whose blest influence, when the world begun,
The twins had birth, while forth the violet broke,
The odorous hyacinth o'erspread the ground,
And each sweet flow'r luxuriant smil'd around.
Now to the skies preferr'd, those twins adorn
With clust'ring stars the azure vault above.
To a thick wood arriv'd, that signal morn,
The road they quit, thro' many a wild path rove,
In converse bland, till they a thicket gain:
Here a small stile obstructs a verdant lane.
With clust'ring stars the azure vault above.
To a thick wood arriv'd, that signal morn,
The road they quit, thro' many a wild path rove,
In converse bland, till they a thicket gain:
Here a small stile obstructs a verdant lane.
113
A willow parted, by decaying eld,
Just thro' the sapless centre, form'd the stile
With pliant ozier twigs a-cross impell'd;
Struck with the scene, they wond'ring gaz'd a while;
For some faint signs of culture here were found,
Far different from the savage scenes around.
Just thro' the sapless centre, form'd the stile
With pliant ozier twigs a-cross impell'd;
Struck with the scene, they wond'ring gaz'd a while;
For some faint signs of culture here were found,
Far different from the savage scenes around.
Their steeds they left, to rove, on foot along
The pleasing walk, and to a bow'r arriv'd,
The fav'rite roof of ev'ry bird of song,
Where each gay-flow'ring shrub luxuriant thriv'd:
From hence the various prospect open'd round;—
For high the bow'r was built on rising ground.
The pleasing walk, and to a bow'r arriv'd,
The fav'rite roof of ev'ry bird of song,
Where each gay-flow'ring shrub luxuriant thriv'd:
From hence the various prospect open'd round;—
For high the bow'r was built on rising ground.
The flow'rs so fresh, which trembling in the wind,
Shook on the mantled earth their balmy dews,
Pastorus of a faded bloom remind,
(Lost were its honied breath and glossy hues)
Which at his bosom hung; whereon the swain,
With prompt reflection, breaths this moral strain:
Shook on the mantled earth their balmy dews,
Pastorus of a faded bloom remind,
(Lost were its honied breath and glossy hues)
Which at his bosom hung; whereon the swain,
With prompt reflection, breaths this moral strain:
114
“Ill-fated flow'r! how are thy sweets decay'd?
“Where is each charm that pleas'd my ravish'd sight?
“Where is the blush thy modest cheek display'd?
“Where the fresh odour that could once delight?
“No more you boast or breath, or colours gay!
“Then thus I cast thy worthless form away.
“Where is each charm that pleas'd my ravish'd sight?
“Where is the blush thy modest cheek display'd?
“Where the fresh odour that could once delight?
“No more you boast or breath, or colours gay!
“Then thus I cast thy worthless form away.
“Yet scarce two suns have cheer'd this laughing bow'r,
“Where frolics Flora in luxuriant hues,
“And once Lucina, solemn, plaintive pow'r!
“Has spangled with her beam the yellow dews,
“Since, tempted by thy charms, with eager haste
“That form I pluckt, and in my bosom plac'd:
“Where frolics Flora in luxuriant hues,
“And once Lucina, solemn, plaintive pow'r!
“Has spangled with her beam the yellow dews,
“Since, tempted by thy charms, with eager haste
“That form I pluckt, and in my bosom plac'd:
“The guardian briars that circled thee around
“Not long the ardour of my wish restrain'd;
“Thy beauties fir'd; the difficulties found,
“I soon surmounted, and the prize obtain'd.
“Yet I who caus'd thy ruin, now, with scorn,
“Cast thee to earth, unpity'd, and forlorn!”
“Not long the ardour of my wish restrain'd;
“Thy beauties fir'd; the difficulties found,
“I soon surmounted, and the prize obtain'd.
“Yet I who caus'd thy ruin, now, with scorn,
“Cast thee to earth, unpity'd, and forlorn!”
115
With tearful look, then on the earth he threw
The wither'd flow'r that sick'ned at his breast,
While Damon's eyes the trembling tears bedew;
And scarce the groan of anguish he supprest—
Nor long supprest: for memory conscience woke,
And thus, with stifled sobs, he silence broke.
The wither'd flow'r that sick'ned at his breast,
While Damon's eyes the trembling tears bedew;
And scarce the groan of anguish he supprest—
Nor long supprest: for memory conscience woke,
And thus, with stifled sobs, he silence broke.
“Alas, Amanda! this poor blossom brings
“All thy sad story to my tortur'd mind.
“Oh, grief of heart! the keen remembrance wrings
“My faithless soul, too long to justice blind.
“For yours surpast this flow'ret's freshest pride,
“Till cruel I each blushing sweet destroy'd.
“All thy sad story to my tortur'd mind.
“Oh, grief of heart! the keen remembrance wrings
“My faithless soul, too long to justice blind.
“For yours surpast this flow'ret's freshest pride,
“Till cruel I each blushing sweet destroy'd.
“Had Heav'n endow'd thee with a vulgar frame,
“Had sprightly wit ne'er sparkled in thy eyes,
“Thou had'st not known the pangs of grief and shame,
“Nor been the victim of my artful sighs:
“I ne'er so much had labour'd to betray,
“Nor scornful cast thy rifled form away.
“Had sprightly wit ne'er sparkled in thy eyes,
“Thou had'st not known the pangs of grief and shame,
“Nor been the victim of my artful sighs:
“I ne'er so much had labour'd to betray,
“Nor scornful cast thy rifled form away.
116
“What guards could virtue give, or prudence frame,
“That did not circle sweet Amanda round?
“What time, what subtile projects did it claim,
“Ere a fit scheme for my design I found?
“But ah! what human pow'rs can equal prove
“To baffle art, hypocrisy, and love?
“That did not circle sweet Amanda round?
“What time, what subtile projects did it claim,
“Ere a fit scheme for my design I found?
“But ah! what human pow'rs can equal prove
“To baffle art, hypocrisy, and love?
“With honest seeming and pretended truth,
“With ev'ry guile I cloath'd my treach'rous scheme:
“I gain'd the faith of her incautious youth
“With protestations of a chaste esteem;
“And ev'ry soft insinuation tried
“To make her think I woo'd her for my bride.
“With ev'ry guile I cloath'd my treach'rous scheme:
“I gain'd the faith of her incautious youth
“With protestations of a chaste esteem;
“And ev'ry soft insinuation tried
“To make her think I woo'd her for my bride.
“When now my sighs had warm'd her virgin heart,
“To all my vows she lent a willing ear;
“When now the pearly drops I shed with art
“Call'd in her eyes the undissembled tear;
“And now, whene'er her hand I ardent prest,
“Love ting'd her cheek, and swell'd her panting breast;
“To all my vows she lent a willing ear;
“When now the pearly drops I shed with art
“Call'd in her eyes the undissembled tear;
“And now, whene'er her hand I ardent prest,
“Love ting'd her cheek, and swell'd her panting breast;
117
“When now, if chanc'd I met her conscious eyes
“The downcast look of bashfulness reveal'd
“That tender wishes in her bosom rise,
“Which love inspir'd, but virgin shame conceal'd.
“I seiz'd the time (industrious to betray)
“And, weeping, begg'd my fortune she'd display:
“The downcast look of bashfulness reveal'd
“That tender wishes in her bosom rise,
“Which love inspir'd, but virgin shame conceal'd.
“I seiz'd the time (industrious to betray)
“And, weeping, begg'd my fortune she'd display:
“If yet my ardent passion might presume
“To hope from lov'd Amanda some return,
“Or black despair's all comfort-killing gloom,
“Decreed my ashes to a timeless urn?
“With well dissembl'd tears, and many a sigh,
“I urg'd the fair-one for a kind reply.
“To hope from lov'd Amanda some return,
“Or black despair's all comfort-killing gloom,
“Decreed my ashes to a timeless urn?
“With well dissembl'd tears, and many a sigh,
“I urg'd the fair-one for a kind reply.
“Why should I tell what tender arts I us'd,
“And how unselfish I profess'd my flame?
“How many fraudful vows her faith abus'd?
“Attesting ev'ry sacred pow'r by name,
“To her alone, I said, my heart applied;
“On her free choice alone my peace relied.
“And how unselfish I profess'd my flame?
“How many fraudful vows her faith abus'd?
“Attesting ev'ry sacred pow'r by name,
“To her alone, I said, my heart applied;
“On her free choice alone my peace relied.
118
“Her sire, I said, by int'rest might be sway'd,
“And by my fortune's dazzling splendour lur'd,
“Against her will, to force my lovely maid:
“But, ah! I scorn'd possession thus procur'd.
“I swore, I would not give Amanda pain,
“For all the blisses which immortals gain.”
“And by my fortune's dazzling splendour lur'd,
“Against her will, to force my lovely maid:
“But, ah! I scorn'd possession thus procur'd.
“I swore, I would not give Amanda pain,
“For all the blisses which immortals gain.”
“For this, I vow'd, and for no other cause,
“I hid my passion from her prudent sire.
“I curs'd the wretch who, trampling nature's laws,
“Would glut with beauty's grief his own desire.
“Let none, I said, who could so selfish prove,
“Presume to call their sordid passion love.
“I hid my passion from her prudent sire.
“I curs'd the wretch who, trampling nature's laws,
“Would glut with beauty's grief his own desire.
“Let none, I said, who could so selfish prove,
“Presume to call their sordid passion love.
“Can words describe the lovely blushing maid,—
“The crimson flush which o'er her beauties came!
“The humid splendor in her eyes display'd,
“The heaving bosom, and the trembling frame,
“The interrupted sigh, the murmur weak,
“Which faulter'd on her tongue when she essay'd to speak!
“The crimson flush which o'er her beauties came!
“The humid splendor in her eyes display'd,
“The heaving bosom, and the trembling frame,
“The interrupted sigh, the murmur weak,
“Which faulter'd on her tongue when she essay'd to speak!
119
“The op'ning rose, when fanning zephyrs play
“Ere yet Aurora's pearly drops are dried)
“Among the leaves, and wake the sanguine ray:
“Thus glows, thus swells, thus breathes in all its pride.
“And did I, oh inhuman spoiler! dare
“To blast this bloom, so bright, so sweet, so fair?”
“Ere yet Aurora's pearly drops are dried)
“Among the leaves, and wake the sanguine ray:
“Thus glows, thus swells, thus breathes in all its pride.
“And did I, oh inhuman spoiler! dare
“To blast this bloom, so bright, so sweet, so fair?”
Then with a groan, with looks distraught and wild,
On earth he fell, and tore his graceful hair:
He curs'd each charm by which his arts beguil'd,
His manly beauty, and his form so fair;—
But most he curs'd his soft persuasive tongue,
Its pow'rs perverted, and its syren song.
On earth he fell, and tore his graceful hair:
He curs'd each charm by which his arts beguil'd,
His manly beauty, and his form so fair;—
But most he curs'd his soft persuasive tongue,
Its pow'rs perverted, and its syren song.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |