Harvest-Home (1805) | ||
24
PRAYER TO HEALTH:
WRITTEN WHILE SEVERAL OF THE AUTHOR'S FRIENDS WERE SUFFERING FROM SICKNESS.
Soft'ner of every ill below,
And crown of every good we know;
Thou only pure and sterling wealth,
Blessing of blessings—roseate Health!
And crown of every good we know;
Thou only pure and sterling wealth,
Blessing of blessings—roseate Health!
At thy approach each drooping flower
Shall spring more fresh than from the shower;
The Graces on thy steps attend,
And all the Loves before thee bend
As from thy breathings they inhale
More than Arabia's spicy gale:
All Nature, while it owns thy sway,
To Thee shall willing homage pay;
The Sun himself more bright shall shine,
The lustre his, the rapture thine!
Shall spring more fresh than from the shower;
The Graces on thy steps attend,
And all the Loves before thee bend
As from thy breathings they inhale
More than Arabia's spicy gale:
All Nature, while it owns thy sway,
To Thee shall willing homage pay;
The Sun himself more bright shall shine,
The lustre his, the rapture thine!
Come then, fair daughter of the sky,
The sun-beams playing in thine eye,
Come on the pinions of the breeze,
And chase away the fiend Disease,
And hover round the cheerless bed
Where the stern tyrant bends the head;
Haste to the couch where Charlotte lies
,
Or arm the father ere she dies;
Arm him to bear the death-blow giv'n,
The pang that lifts his child to heaven.
And where yon mourning matron strays,
While at her feet a cherub plays,
Fling from the sphere a softer air,
And sooth a tender mother's care;
Revisit pale Sibylla's cheek ,
Where mirth, like morn-beams, used to break:
And Genius shall resume his reign,
And Fancy pour her richest strain.
Then wave thy wand o'er Harriet's brow ,
And Sense shall charm, and Wit shall flow.
The sun-beams playing in thine eye,
Come on the pinions of the breeze,
And chase away the fiend Disease,
And hover round the cheerless bed
Where the stern tyrant bends the head;
25
Or arm the father ere she dies;
Arm him to bear the death-blow giv'n,
The pang that lifts his child to heaven.
And where yon mourning matron strays,
While at her feet a cherub plays,
Fling from the sphere a softer air,
And sooth a tender mother's care;
Revisit pale Sibylla's cheek ,
Where mirth, like morn-beams, used to break:
And Genius shall resume his reign,
And Fancy pour her richest strain.
Then wave thy wand o'er Harriet's brow ,
And Sense shall charm, and Wit shall flow.
And give the Friend with wisdom fraught
The power to use his stores of thought;
Stores to enrich the rising age,
Diffus'd thro' many a moral page.
The power to use his stores of thought;
Stores to enrich the rising age,
Diffus'd thro' many a moral page.
Nor, ah! to that time-honour'd Seer
Deny thy smile his age to cheer.
Age such as his shall still be gay,
If thou but deign to gild his way:
Sweet Shenstone's friend then still shall be
Blithe as his own Euphrosyne;
And, number'd 'midst the tuneful throng,
Shall still repay thee with his song.
Deny thy smile his age to cheer.
Age such as his shall still be gay,
If thou but deign to gild his way:
Sweet Shenstone's friend then still shall be
Blithe as his own Euphrosyne;
And, number'd 'midst the tuneful throng,
Shall still repay thee with his song.
And he, whose cup of joy ran o'er
With Fortune's and thy richer store;
While Nature, Sense, and Beauty smil'd,
In the soft forms of wife and child:
But ah! who now on distant shores
At once a child and wife deplores,
Hides from himself, and vainly tries
To lose swift Mem'ry as he flies!
Bereaved man! O sooth his woe,
For Health can still a balm bestow;
Can give the struggling mind relief,
Or strength to bear the sharpest grief;
Can the just breaking heart sustain,
And bid it beat to hope again;
Can urge the sinking soul to prove
The force of piety and love.
Rev. G. Glasse, who, in describing the misery which befel his family from his house having fallen down at Hanwell, and many other severe misfortunes that preceded the yet greater calamity mentioned in these Verses, observed—“All these sorrows have been heaped upon me, in order, no doubt, to prune the over-luxuriance of prosperity, that had known but little interruption; in order, I trust, to make me wiser and better—to harrow up the soul, as Ogden beautifully has it, in order to make it capable of producing the seeds of virtue.”
With Fortune's and thy richer store;
While Nature, Sense, and Beauty smil'd,
In the soft forms of wife and child:
26
At once a child and wife deplores,
Hides from himself, and vainly tries
To lose swift Mem'ry as he flies!
Bereaved man! O sooth his woe,
For Health can still a balm bestow;
Can give the struggling mind relief,
Or strength to bear the sharpest grief;
Can the just breaking heart sustain,
And bid it beat to hope again;
Can urge the sinking soul to prove
The force of piety and love.
Nor yet to yonder laurell'd Sage,
The far-fam'd Nestor of the age ,
Refuse thy salutary aid;
But wing thy way to Lowestoff's shade,
Where still the Grecian Muse is seen
In classic robes, and awful mien;
And woos the Zephyrs, as they rise
From azure waves and salient skies.
The far-fam'd Nestor of the age ,
Refuse thy salutary aid;
But wing thy way to Lowestoff's shade,
Where still the Grecian Muse is seen
In classic robes, and awful mien;
And woos the Zephyrs, as they rise
From azure waves and salient skies.
Then, if a boon remains with thee,
Deign to bestow that boon on me!
The frame which many a shock has worn,
The heart which many a pang has borne,
The nerves which Sickness oft has struck,
And Sorrow wrung, and Envy shook:
And foul Ingratitude, and Care,
Have bow'd to earth,—do thou repair;
O mitigate each suppliant's pain,
Nor let the Poet's prayer be vain!
Deign to bestow that boon on me!
The frame which many a shock has worn,
The heart which many a pang has borne,
The nerves which Sickness oft has struck,
And Sorrow wrung, and Envy shook:
And foul Ingratitude, and Care,
Have bow'd to earth,—do thou repair;
O mitigate each suppliant's pain,
Nor let the Poet's prayer be vain!
Harvest-Home (1805) | ||