Poems on Various Subjects By John Thelwall. In Two Volumes |
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Canto the Third.
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
Canto the Third.
And now, uprearing in his stirrup high,
Damon o'erhangs the steed's proud arching mane,
And here and there he turns his roving eye,
Doubtful which track might aid them to regain
The road frequented, for around display'd
Was many a labyrinth rude that cross'd the woodland shade.
Damon o'erhangs the steed's proud arching mane,
And here and there he turns his roving eye,
Doubtful which track might aid them to regain
The road frequented, for around display'd
Was many a labyrinth rude that cross'd the woodland shade.
For, all unthinking of the purpos'd road,
The shady walks where bloomy hawthorns join'd
In smiling arch, through which soft zephyr flow'd,
And the awakening dawn bright spangling shin'd,
And banks, all redolent in gaudy pride,
Had led them, careless, from their journey wide.
The shady walks where bloomy hawthorns join'd
In smiling arch, through which soft zephyr flow'd,
And the awakening dawn bright spangling shin'd,
And banks, all redolent in gaudy pride,
Had led them, careless, from their journey wide.
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Thus while suspended hung his doubtful mind,
From pipe melodious, dulcet, smooth, and clear,
Sad notes, soft warbling in the wanton wind,
Wild as mellifluent, smote his wond'ring ear.
Slow from his hand he drops the loosen'd rein,
And sinks supine and breathless on the plain.
From pipe melodious, dulcet, smooth, and clear,
Sad notes, soft warbling in the wanton wind,
Wild as mellifluent, smote his wond'ring ear.
Slow from his hand he drops the loosen'd rein,
And sinks supine and breathless on the plain.
As when some eagle, from the awful height
Of cloud-topt Teneriffe, darts his piercing eye,
Stretch'd out impatient, meditates his flight,
And dooms in thought the grazing fawn to die;
The archer views him—swift the winged dart
Twangs from the bow, and quivers in his heart;
Of cloud-topt Teneriffe, darts his piercing eye,
Stretch'd out impatient, meditates his flight,
And dooms in thought the grazing fawn to die;
The archer views him—swift the winged dart
Twangs from the bow, and quivers in his heart;
Backward he falls upon the hollow ground,
With clenching talons, fluttering pinions spread;
No more the lightning in his eye is found,
Now darkling clos'd,—loose drops his listless head:
So, to appearance dead, with deep dismay,
Pastorus sees his friend extended lay.
With clenching talons, fluttering pinions spread;
No more the lightning in his eye is found,
Now darkling clos'd,—loose drops his listless head:
So, to appearance dead, with deep dismay,
Pastorus sees his friend extended lay.
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With love assiduous, ev'ry art he tries
To rouse the fainting penitent to life,
Who soon unveils his wretched, languid eyes—
Then throbs his breast with passion's various strife:
Hope, tender pity, shame and love combin'd,
And weeping memory with contrition join'd.
To rouse the fainting penitent to life,
Who soon unveils his wretched, languid eyes—
Then throbs his breast with passion's various strife:
Hope, tender pity, shame and love combin'd,
And weeping memory with contrition join'd.
Yet still supported in Pastorus' arms,
Surprise deep printed on his weeping face,
He bears in silence passion's wild alarms;
While from the distant brakes, with dulcet grace,
(As wrapt in thought, all utterance he refrains)
The poor Amanda breathes the sweet disorder'd strains.
Surprise deep printed on his weeping face,
He bears in silence passion's wild alarms;
While from the distant brakes, with dulcet grace,
(As wrapt in thought, all utterance he refrains)
The poor Amanda breathes the sweet disorder'd strains.
Wildly they flow'd, as o'er Æolus' harp
Light trip the zephyrs in the shady grove:
Now quick, short movements, with an accent sharp;
Now sadly slow the mournful numbers move;
And now serene as vestal's holy fires;
Now rambling, wanton, wild, as love's uncurb'd desires.
Light trip the zephyrs in the shady grove:
Now quick, short movements, with an accent sharp;
Now sadly slow the mournful numbers move;
And now serene as vestal's holy fires;
Now rambling, wanton, wild, as love's uncurb'd desires.
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The SONG.
HENCE thou silly, wanton vine!To that maple cease to twine;
Twist no more thy tendrils round,
But, more wisely, on the ground
Thy unsupported branches spread,
Or grief shall reach thy 'spiring head.
Man is by nature like the savage train
That rav'ning thro' the dreary forests rove,
Or o'er the uplands scour, or pace the plain,
To rend with bloody fangs the bleeding drove:
With seeming love he boasts protecting aid;
Yet promises but to betray:
He grieves, he weeps.—Ah! hapless is the maid
Whose pitying hand shall wipe his tears away!
That rav'ning thro' the dreary forests rove,
Or o'er the uplands scour, or pace the plain,
To rend with bloody fangs the bleeding drove:
With seeming love he boasts protecting aid;
Yet promises but to betray:
He grieves, he weeps.—Ah! hapless is the maid
Whose pitying hand shall wipe his tears away!
When first I saw his angel frame,
And his attention quickly drew,
Oh! how I felt the spreading flame!
What transports round my bosom flew!
From his eyes the sparkling fire
Woke the embers of desire;
Around my heart,
In spite of art,
Swift rush'd the blood, each pulse beat higher.
And his attention quickly drew,
Oh! how I felt the spreading flame!
What transports round my bosom flew!
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Woke the embers of desire;
Around my heart,
In spite of art,
Swift rush'd the blood, each pulse beat higher.
But ah he's false, and I'm undone!
I sicken at the rising sun,
And weep what time his course is done;
Trembling I view the darkling night,
And blush at pale Lucina's light.
I sicken at the rising sun,
And weep what time his course is done;
Trembling I view the darkling night,
And blush at pale Lucina's light.
Ah me! how my bosom is rent, when I think
Affliction from transport should spring!
That the summit of bliss is of anguish the brink,
And grief's bitterest tear hangs on joy's gayest wing!
Affliction from transport should spring!
That the summit of bliss is of anguish the brink,
And grief's bitterest tear hangs on joy's gayest wing!
The lovely maniac ceas'd. With troubled sighs
Then lay she on the verdant sod and mourn'd;
Then burst the sorrows copious from her eyes,
And, as they fell, serenity return'd.
The fruitful show'r extinguish'd passion's strife,
And call'd the embryo senses into life.
Then lay she on the verdant sod and mourn'd;
Then burst the sorrows copious from her eyes,
And, as they fell, serenity return'd.
The fruitful show'r extinguish'd passion's strife,
And call'd the embryo senses into life.
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With poor distrest Amanda thus it far'd,
Who here, within embow'ring shades forlorn,
With blighted peace, and faculties impair'd,—
What time the annual sun did twice adorn,
With waxing glory and with waning sheen,
The circling seasons—poor recluse! had been.
Who here, within embow'ring shades forlorn,
With blighted peace, and faculties impair'd,—
What time the annual sun did twice adorn,
With waxing glory and with waning sheen,
The circling seasons—poor recluse! had been.
For Thudor banish'd from his once fond home,
When time reveal'd the secret of her shame,
His hapless child, with meagre want to roam;
Of peace bereft, and reft of virgin fame;
Scorn'd by the world, abandon'd by her love,
The scoff of prudes, the snares of vice to prove.
When time reveal'd the secret of her shame,
His hapless child, with meagre want to roam;
Of peace bereft, and reft of virgin fame;
Scorn'd by the world, abandon'd by her love,
The scoff of prudes, the snares of vice to prove.
Oh cruel pastor! when thy youngling fair,
Forlorn, deserted by her trusted guide,
Bleats on the barren wold, and needs thy care
To lead her back to virtue's fold, with pride
To bar compassion's doors, and drive away
To rav'ning wolves a trembling, helpless prey.
Forlorn, deserted by her trusted guide,
Bleats on the barren wold, and needs thy care
To lead her back to virtue's fold, with pride
To bar compassion's doors, and drive away
To rav'ning wolves a trembling, helpless prey.
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But prudent she, to shun the numerous snares
Which envious vice or passion's lawless train
To trap the wand'ring innocent prepares,
Forswore the city's throng and peopled plain:
Resolv'd, from human converse far away,
To waste the solemn night and lonely day.
Which envious vice or passion's lawless train
To trap the wand'ring innocent prepares,
Forswore the city's throng and peopled plain:
Resolv'd, from human converse far away,
To waste the solemn night and lonely day.
A little cave—or scoop'd by art away,
Or form'd at erst by nature's wond'rous hand,
Or whilom by some rav'ning beast of prey,
(Ere yet king Edgar drove them from the land)
Unweeting I, nor does it boot to know;
But round enlabyrinth'd briars and hawthorns grow.
Or form'd at erst by nature's wond'rous hand,
Or whilom by some rav'ning beast of prey,
(Ere yet king Edgar drove them from the land)
Unweeting I, nor does it boot to know;
But round enlabyrinth'd briars and hawthorns grow.
This little cave (what time the night's dank shade
Surcharg'd the drooping flowers with fresh'ning dew)
Eludes the sickly blast, which might invade
Her sleeping form; and at the end there grew
A mossy bank, which yields those limbs a bed
That prest the cignet's down ere peace was fled.
Surcharg'd the drooping flowers with fresh'ning dew)
Eludes the sickly blast, which might invade
Her sleeping form; and at the end there grew
A mossy bank, which yields those limbs a bed
That prest the cignet's down ere peace was fled.
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The limpid spring her maple cup supply'd;
A little garden, cultur'd by her care,
Did for her wants each wholesome root provide;
Some mountain goats she hamper'd in a snare
Yield to her hand a life-supporting food—
Her hand still guiltless of their younglings blood.
A little garden, cultur'd by her care,
Did for her wants each wholesome root provide;
Some mountain goats she hamper'd in a snare
Yield to her hand a life-supporting food—
Her hand still guiltless of their younglings blood.
The fragrant bow'r, beneath whose wanton shade
Conviction flash'd upon her lover's mind,
For her amusement had the maniac made:
The creeping tendrils oft her hand entwin'd;
Full oft the fragrant shrub afar she sought,
And from the dingles many a wild flow'r brought.
Conviction flash'd upon her lover's mind,
For her amusement had the maniac made:
The creeping tendrils oft her hand entwin'd;
Full oft the fragrant shrub afar she sought,
And from the dingles many a wild flow'r brought.
Soon as each morn the sun's illum'ning wane
O'erpeer'd the circling verdure of her cave,
(Aurora's tears still glittering on the plain)
Amanda rose; and fondly would she rave,
As, with a slow, enfeebled, sorrowing pace,
Her bow'r she sought, to check each wand'ring grace.
O'erpeer'd the circling verdure of her cave,
(Aurora's tears still glittering on the plain)
Amanda rose; and fondly would she rave,
As, with a slow, enfeebled, sorrowing pace,
Her bow'r she sought, to check each wand'ring grace.
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Now mutt'ring wildly, as she rov'd along,
Faint incoherent murmurs of despair;
Anon she'd rave in unconnected song,
Or moisten with her mournful sighs the air.
Yet still on Damon all her musings hung:
His was each sigh she heav'd, each theme she sung.
Faint incoherent murmurs of despair;
Anon she'd rave in unconnected song,
Or moisten with her mournful sighs the air.
Yet still on Damon all her musings hung:
His was each sigh she heav'd, each theme she sung.
At times, unfinish'd would she leave her theme,
Arrest her step, and meditating stand—
Prone would she fall beside the murmuring stream,
And cull the flow'rets with her lily hand;
Then with her tears the mingling wreath bedew,
Till, grief thus vented, calm her bosom grew.
Arrest her step, and meditating stand—
Prone would she fall beside the murmuring stream,
And cull the flow'rets with her lily hand;
Then with her tears the mingling wreath bedew,
Till, grief thus vented, calm her bosom grew.
So wails the matron dove her pillag'd nest,
And mate ensnar'd by fowler's cruel wiles;
So throbs with various pangs her aching breast,
Nor time's erasing hand her woe beguiles;
Thro' groves recluse she bends her lonely way,
Mourns by each brook, and pines on ev'ry spray.
And mate ensnar'd by fowler's cruel wiles;
So throbs with various pangs her aching breast,
Nor time's erasing hand her woe beguiles;
Thro' groves recluse she bends her lonely way,
Mourns by each brook, and pines on ev'ry spray.
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And now in Damon's tortur'd fancy rove
The cruel mischiefs of his selfish lust:
The injur'd object to delirium drove,
The sire perhaps sent timeless to the dust.
Such and ten thousand thoughts his bosom tear,
Perplex his mind, and drive him to despair.
The cruel mischiefs of his selfish lust:
The injur'd object to delirium drove,
The sire perhaps sent timeless to the dust.
Such and ten thousand thoughts his bosom tear,
Perplex his mind, and drive him to despair.
Perhaps the tender product of his loves
Now pines with want, unpitied, and forlorn;
The bitter pangs of orphan'd misery proves:
No rays of comfort glad its hopeless dawn.—
Absorb'd he stood; insensate, rooted, dumb
As Parian matrons o'er an infant's tomb.
Now pines with want, unpitied, and forlorn;
The bitter pangs of orphan'd misery proves:
No rays of comfort glad its hopeless dawn.—
Absorb'd he stood; insensate, rooted, dumb
As Parian matrons o'er an infant's tomb.
At length, with many groans and heartfelt sighs,
Wak'd from his trance, he vents his tortur'd heart:
Then tow'rds the nymph thro' brambled brakes he flies,
With eager hope soft comfort to impart,
With love-repentant soothe her griefs to rest,
And chace the wild delirium from her breast.
Wak'd from his trance, he vents his tortur'd heart:
Then tow'rds the nymph thro' brambled brakes he flies,
With eager hope soft comfort to impart,
With love-repentant soothe her griefs to rest,
And chace the wild delirium from her breast.
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As when some vocal tenant of the shade
With love assiduous feeds her callow care,
If chance, among the circling foliage made,
A rustling noise assails her timorous ear,
Thoughtful of plund'ring hinds, around she'll start,
With looks of terror, and with fluttering heart.
With love assiduous feeds her callow care,
If chance, among the circling foliage made,
A rustling noise assails her timorous ear,
Thoughtful of plund'ring hinds, around she'll start,
With looks of terror, and with fluttering heart.
So, starting wildly, look'd the timid fair,
While thro' the rustling bushes Damon sped;
And seeing man with hasty steps repair,
She paus'd not to observe, but trembling fled:
Wing'd by vain terrors rushing on her mind,
Her feeble feet outstrip the western wind.
While thro' the rustling bushes Damon sped;
And seeing man with hasty steps repair,
She paus'd not to observe, but trembling fled:
Wing'd by vain terrors rushing on her mind,
Her feeble feet outstrip the western wind.
Thus when some thoughtless boy the nest invades
Of gay Chrysonitus with gilded plumes,
(Where shelter'd close within the brambled shades,
Where berries ripen and the wild rose blooms,
Her scarce fledg'd young, with pinions yet untried,
In hopes of swift enlargement chirping hide)
Of gay Chrysonitus with gilded plumes,
(Where shelter'd close within the brambled shades,
Where berries ripen and the wild rose blooms,
Her scarce fledg'd young, with pinions yet untried,
In hopes of swift enlargement chirping hide)
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Struck with dismay, and studious to elude
The gripe despiteous, they with terror shake,
And trembling venture forth the feeble brood,
With doubtful pinions soaring o'er the brake;
Fear their sole guide, and all their strength despair,
With quick, short strokes they beat the yielding air.
So fares it with the feeble, frighted fair.
The gripe despiteous, they with terror shake,
And trembling venture forth the feeble brood,
With doubtful pinions soaring o'er the brake;
Fear their sole guide, and all their strength despair,
With quick, short strokes they beat the yielding air.
So fares it with the feeble, frighted fair.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |