Poems on Various Subjects By John Thelwall. In Two Volumes |
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THE RED-BREAST;
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
179
THE RED-BREAST; :
OR, DAMON OF THE GLADE
A SENTIMENTAL TALE. IN THREE CANTOS.
181
Canto the First.
Far shelter'd in a winding glade,
A lonely cottage stands,
Whose master lov'd the silent shade
Which peace and thought demands.
A lonely cottage stands,
Whose master lov'd the silent shade
Which peace and thought demands.
And hence, from ev'ry care retir'd,—
Save only those which love
And Phebe's cruel scorn inspir'd,—
He, musing, oft would rove.
Save only those which love
And Phebe's cruel scorn inspir'd,—
He, musing, oft would rove.
182
Full oft beside the bushy dell,
Thro' winding alleys green,
Where thrustles, larks, and linnets dwell,
He'd wander all unseen.
Thro' winding alleys green,
Where thrustles, larks, and linnets dwell,
He'd wander all unseen.
And well, I wot, he lov'd the song
Of feather'd warblers free:
Yet not a bird of all the throng
Could sing so sweet as he.
Of feather'd warblers free:
Yet not a bird of all the throng
Could sing so sweet as he.
And when, within some close retreat,
He heard the blackbird sing,
Or soaring lark, so loud and sweet,
Long carol on the wing,
He heard the blackbird sing,
Or soaring lark, so loud and sweet,
Long carol on the wing,
His feeling bosom thus inspir'd,
And thus he rais'd his song:
“Ye little warblers! here retir'd,
“Secure your themes prolong.
And thus he rais'd his song:
“Ye little warblers! here retir'd,
“Secure your themes prolong.
“Here none the tangling net shall lay,
“Or fraudful horse-hair twine;
“No cruel hand shall lime the spray,
“Your pinions to confine.
“Or fraudful horse-hair twine;
“No cruel hand shall lime the spray,
“Your pinions to confine.
183
“Ah! hard his heart, the action proves,
“Who, for a selfish joy,
“Would tear you from your feather'd loves,
“And liberty destroy.
“Who, for a selfish joy,
“Would tear you from your feather'd loves,
“And liberty destroy.
“Ah me!—perhaps yon lonely thrush,
“Whose drooping pinions show,
“While thus she pines beneath the bush,
“Some inward cause of woe.—
“Whose drooping pinions show,
“While thus she pines beneath the bush,
“Some inward cause of woe.—
“That thrush, perhaps, too late withdrawn
“To this sequester'd shade,
“May, pining thus, bewail forlorn
“Her little mate betray'd;
“To this sequester'd shade,
“May, pining thus, bewail forlorn
“Her little mate betray'd;
“While he, within some cage confin'd,
“Now, warbling, mourns his fate,
“To please some thoughtless fair-one's mind;
“—The slave of useless state!
“Now, warbling, mourns his fate,
“To please some thoughtless fair-one's mind;
“—The slave of useless state!
“Perhaps the little brood his breast
“Had lately warm'd to life,
“Robb'd of his care within their nest,
“May pine with famine's strife.
“Had lately warm'd to life,
“Robb'd of his care within their nest,
“May pine with famine's strife.
184
“Poor, hapless birds! who now shall roam
“Thro' meadows far and nigh,
“And bring ye grain or insects home,
“Your cravings to supply?
“Thro' meadows far and nigh,
“And bring ye grain or insects home,
“Your cravings to supply?
“Ah, who shall now from heavy rain
“A needful shelter bring?
“Or lend, when mid-day fervours reign,
“The shadow of the wing?”
“A needful shelter bring?
“Or lend, when mid-day fervours reign,
“The shadow of the wing?”
Then oft a tear his cheek bedew'd,
Or trembled in his eye,
As thus the youth his theme pursu'd,
With many a pitying sigh:
Or trembled in his eye,
As thus the youth his theme pursu'd,
With many a pitying sigh:
“Oh slothful pride! to pleasure thee
“Must e'en the warbling choir,
“Pent from their loves, the welkin free,
“And peaceful nest, expire?
“Must e'en the warbling choir,
“Pent from their loves, the welkin free,
“And peaceful nest, expire?
“Oh sure like me they never strove
“To gain a fair-one's heart;—
“Oh sure like me they cannot love
“Who act this cruel part!
“To gain a fair-one's heart;—
“Oh sure like me they cannot love
“Who act this cruel part!
185
“For did they know the sweet delight
“The lov'd-one's presence gives,
“And did they know his woeful plight,
“Who for her absence grieves,
“The lov'd-one's presence gives,
“And did they know his woeful plight,
“Who for her absence grieves,
“Or had they ever felt the care
“Which rends the hopeless mind,—
“Sure they could never part the pair
“Whom mutual love had join'd.
“Which rends the hopeless mind,—
“Sure they could never part the pair
“Whom mutual love had join'd.
“But ah! the court's fantastic crowd,
“And city's selfish throng,
“For sympathy and love too proud,
“Each tender virtue wrong.
“And city's selfish throng,
“For sympathy and love too proud,
“Each tender virtue wrong.
“There pride and int'rest pity blight:
“E'en love is made a trade.—
“And yet for these, can Phebe slight
“My cottage in the glade.
“E'en love is made a trade.—
“And yet for these, can Phebe slight
“My cottage in the glade.
“Ah! silly maid! the time has been
“Thy meek, thy gentle breast
“Found pleasure in this tranquil scene,
“And was with feeling blest.
“Thy meek, thy gentle breast
“Found pleasure in this tranquil scene,
“And was with feeling blest.
186
“Then wouldst thou set, at even-tide,
“With pensive look so sweet,
“While Philomel, some dell beside,
“Was wont her woes repeat;
“With pensive look so sweet,
“While Philomel, some dell beside,
“Was wont her woes repeat;
“And as the solemn warbler griev'd,
“And charm'd the list'ning grove,
“Thy sympathising bosom heav'd;—
“Thy soul would melt to love.
“And charm'd the list'ning grove,
“Thy sympathising bosom heav'd;—
“Thy soul would melt to love.
“Then too, at dawn thou'dst often stray
“Thro' fields of ripening grain,
“To hear the linnet on the spray,
“Or lark's high-soaring strain.
“Thro' fields of ripening grain,
“To hear the linnet on the spray,
“Or lark's high-soaring strain.
“And as they sung and soar'd on high,
“Secure from want or harm,
“Would sparkling pleasure gild thy eye,
“And heighten ev'ry charm.
“Secure from want or harm,
“Would sparkling pleasure gild thy eye,
“And heighten ev'ry charm.
‘Hark,’ wouldst thou say, ‘how sweet they sing!’
‘With freedom blest, and love!
‘How gaily they, with nimble wing,
‘In sportive circles rove!
‘With freedom blest, and love!
‘How gaily they, with nimble wing,
‘In sportive circles rove!
187
‘And can there, Damon, can there be,
‘Who'd bid these scenes farewel,—
‘Resign these strains, these meadows flee,
‘In noisy towns to dwell?
‘Who'd bid these scenes farewel,—
‘Resign these strains, these meadows flee,
‘In noisy towns to dwell?
‘And dost thou think,’ I've heard thee say,
‘Such cruel men there are,
‘Who, for their songs, or plumage gay,
‘These warblers would ensnare?’
‘Such cruel men there are,
‘Who, for their songs, or plumage gay,
‘These warblers would ensnare?’
“Then wouldst thou blame the thoughtless crowd
“Who joy'd in giving pain;
“Then wouldst thou mock the giddy proud
“Who scorn'd the peaceful plain:
“Who joy'd in giving pain;
“Then wouldst thou mock the giddy proud
“Who scorn'd the peaceful plain:
“Then wouldst thou scorn the selfish town,
“And all its gay parade.—
“But now, for these, has Phebe flown
“My cottage in the glade.
“And all its gay parade.—
“But now, for these, has Phebe flown
“My cottage in the glade.
“Nor wilt thou think, when bleak winds blow,
“Of him, my little guest,
“To whom you wont the crumbs bestow,
“And praise his scarlet breast.
“Of him, my little guest,
“To whom you wont the crumbs bestow,
“And praise his scarlet breast.
188
“Poor bird! again, when winter frowns,
“This hand alone shall feed—
“For Phebe now the glade disowns;
“Nor thee nor me will heed.”
“This hand alone shall feed—
“For Phebe now the glade disowns;
“Nor thee nor me will heed.”
Such, to reflection still inclin'd,
Would oft his sonnets be:
For tender was his artless mind—
An artless swain was he:
Would oft his sonnets be:
For tender was his artless mind—
An artless swain was he:
Simple alike in life and song:
His words from guile so clear,
That of his heart, which knew not wrong,
They but an echo were.
His words from guile so clear,
That of his heart, which knew not wrong,
They but an echo were.
Such was the youth who long had sigh'd,
And long had Phebe lov'd;
While she contemn'd, thro' foolish pride,
The youth her heart approv'd.
And long had Phebe lov'd;
While she contemn'd, thro' foolish pride,
The youth her heart approv'd.
For long had Flavia, gay and proud,
Seduc'd her to the town,
Where crowding fops obsequious bow'd,
Her matchless charms to own.
Seduc'd her to the town,
Where crowding fops obsequious bow'd,
Her matchless charms to own.
189
As round the rose the insects vain
Their gilded pinions ply;
So fluttering play the courtly train
To catch the fair-one's eye:
Their gilded pinions ply;
So fluttering play the courtly train
To catch the fair-one's eye:
But not a rose that decks the plain
With Phebe might compare;
Nor not a gilded fly so vain
As these her suitors were.
With Phebe might compare;
Nor not a gilded fly so vain
As these her suitors were.
Ah! how unlike the tender youth
Who dwelt within the glade;
Whose vows were breath'd with artless truth,
Whose love could never fade!
Who dwelt within the glade;
Whose vows were breath'd with artless truth,
Whose love could never fade!
In them the glowing lip and cheek
Had waked a transient fire;
In him esteem and virtue meek
Had chasten'd loose desire.
Had waked a transient fire;
In him esteem and virtue meek
Had chasten'd loose desire.
What pity that so true a swain
Should pine with hopeless love,
While selfish foplings, false and vain,
Should oft successful prove!
Should pine with hopeless love,
While selfish foplings, false and vain,
Should oft successful prove!
190
Oh silly fair! for tinsel pride
The worthy mind to fly,
And modest truth and sense deride,
To please the youthful eye.
The worthy mind to fly,
And modest truth and sense deride,
To please the youthful eye.
For who'd the gaudy tulip prize,
Whose leaves no sweets exhale,
Ere, tho' it boasts no flaunting dyes,
The lily of the vale?
Whose leaves no sweets exhale,
Ere, tho' it boasts no flaunting dyes,
The lily of the vale?
The one a while may please the sight,
But worthless is its bloom;
The other yields a sweet delight,
And precious its perfume.
But worthless is its bloom;
The other yields a sweet delight,
And precious its perfume.
Be wise, ye fair, let nature guide;
No more let av'rice sway:
O banish vain and thoughtless pride,
And love's behests obey.
No more let av'rice sway:
O banish vain and thoughtless pride,
And love's behests obey.
191
Canto the Second.
And now, when winter stripp'd the grove
And mead of all its pride,
And all who social converse love
To hearths convivial hied,
And mead of all its pride,
And all who social converse love
To hearths convivial hied,
A wand'ring guest, whom chance had led
Benighted to the spot,
Claim'd shelter for his hoary head
In Damon's humble cot.
Benighted to the spot,
Claim'd shelter for his hoary head
In Damon's humble cot.
His pray'r was heard—I need not say,
'Twas giv'n with welcome true:
Careless from want to turn away
Our Damon never knew.
'Twas giv'n with welcome true:
Careless from want to turn away
Our Damon never knew.
192
Freely whate'er the cot supplied
The guest was bade to share;
With converse each alternate tried
To drown the thoughts of care.
The guest was bade to share;
With converse each alternate tried
To drown the thoughts of care.
On subjects various long they talk'd,
Each to the other new;—
The youth the sylvan scene had walk'd,
The sire the city knew.
Each to the other new;—
The youth the sylvan scene had walk'd,
The sire the city knew.
It chanc'd the guest had Flavia serv'd,
The haughty and the vain;
And none from duty less had swerv'd
Of all the menial train.
The haughty and the vain;
And none from duty less had swerv'd
Of all the menial train.
But now, by time quite feeble grown,
For service all too weak,
He friendless on the world was thrown,
A means of life to seek.
For service all too weak,
He friendless on the world was thrown,
A means of life to seek.
From him did Damon understand
(Ah hapless youth was he)
That Phebe soon would give her hand
To one of high degree.
(Ah hapless youth was he)
That Phebe soon would give her hand
To one of high degree.
193
Then all in haste to learn the truth,
Soon as the morning broke,
Forlorn and sad the eager youth
The cot and glade forsook.
Soon as the morning broke,
Forlorn and sad the eager youth
The cot and glade forsook.
Unhappy youth! in vain he hied
To join the busy throng,
For Phebe now was full of pride,
And scorn'd his tender song.
To join the busy throng,
For Phebe now was full of pride,
And scorn'd his tender song.
Pity, 'tis true, did often plead
To ease her Damon's pains;
And love (but love she would not heed)
Still held her heart in chains.
To ease her Damon's pains;
And love (but love she would not heed)
Still held her heart in chains.
To shine in courts with gay parade,
To glitter at the ball,
Preferr'd the false, the silly maid,
To love's and pity's call.
To glitter at the ball,
Preferr'd the false, the silly maid,
To love's and pity's call.
For these, to one her heart despis'd
Her hand she meant to give;
And slighted Damon, whom she priz'd
Beyond all swains who live.
Her hand she meant to give;
And slighted Damon, whom she priz'd
Beyond all swains who live.
194
Then back return'd he in despair,
To mourn unseen his fate,
And left the silly, cruel fair
To misery and state.
To mourn unseen his fate,
And left the silly, cruel fair
To misery and state.
“Ah, haughty maid! thou dost not know,”
He sigh'd, “what thou must prove;
“For thou hast chang'd for splendid woe
“Contentment, peace and love.”
He sigh'd, “what thou must prove;
“For thou hast chang'd for splendid woe
“Contentment, peace and love.”
When now he reach'd his native shade,
His oaten pipe he took;
And, as he slowly trac'd the glade,
The dreary silence broke.
His oaten pipe he took;
And, as he slowly trac'd the glade,
The dreary silence broke.
Sad as the solemn warblings flow
The nightly mourner sends,
When ev'ry heart the note of woe
With wildest cadence rends.
The nightly mourner sends,
When ev'ry heart the note of woe
With wildest cadence rends.
But Philomela, what's thy woe?
Thy plaint with morn shall cease;
But Damon's griefs no respite know;
He hopes no more for peace.
Thy plaint with morn shall cease;
But Damon's griefs no respite know;
He hopes no more for peace.
195
Thy strains, sweet bird, are fictious grief,
Thy plaints without a tear;
But Damon seeks from his relief
From sorrows too sincere:—
Thy plaints without a tear;
But Damon seeks from his relief
From sorrows too sincere:—
In vain he seeks: his dulcet strain
Affords his mind no ease;
E'en musick's charms increase his pain:
His grief can nought appease.
Affords his mind no ease;
E'en musick's charms increase his pain:
His grief can nought appease.
When round he casts his tearful eyes
On all the dreary view—
The sorrows of his bosom rise,
And either cheek bedew.
On all the dreary view—
The sorrows of his bosom rise,
And either cheek bedew.
“Ye trees,” he said, “of verdure spoil'd,
“Where birds no longer dwell,
“Nor warble sweet their love notes wild,
“Ye paint my fortune well.
“Where birds no longer dwell,
“Nor warble sweet their love notes wild,
“Ye paint my fortune well.
“To hope, to joy, to comfort lost,
“I feel a swift decay;
“And nipp'd by disappointment's frost,
“I blighted pine away.
“I feel a swift decay;
“And nipp'd by disappointment's frost,
“I blighted pine away.
196
“Yet, yet,” he sighing said, “one joy,
“One solace still remains:
“Thy bird shall comfort still supply,
“And cheer me with his strains.
“One solace still remains:
“Thy bird shall comfort still supply,
“And cheer me with his strains.
“Tho' Phebe's false, he'll yet be true,
“And still my bosom cheer.
“I'll smile my lonely bird on you
“Each morn when you appear.
“And still my bosom cheer.
“I'll smile my lonely bird on you
“Each morn when you appear.
“My sweet, my sole companion thou,—
“Resemblant of my fate!
“The note will be twice welcome now
“That hails my cheerless state.
“Resemblant of my fate!
“The note will be twice welcome now
“That hails my cheerless state.
“Poor bird! like thine, my joys are flown;
“But spring shall thine restore;
“A harder fate I'm doom'd to moan:
“For mine return no more.
“But spring shall thine restore;
“A harder fate I'm doom'd to moan:
“For mine return no more.
“When vernal gales shall fan the trees,
“And cloudy welkins clear,
“Another mate thy love shall please;
“Whose answering love shall cheer.
“And cloudy welkins clear,
“Another mate thy love shall please;
“Whose answering love shall cheer.
197
“Again shall swell thy little breast,
“Again thy transports rise;
“Again be crown'd thy little nest
“With all its social joys.
“Again thy transports rise;
“Again be crown'd thy little nest
“With all its social joys.
“But ah! a harder lot is mine!
“In self-consuming woe
“An endless winter doom'd to pine,
“Nor spring of hope to know.
“In self-consuming woe
“An endless winter doom'd to pine,
“Nor spring of hope to know.
“Yet thou, sweet bird, with tender note
“Shalt soothe my constant grief.
“My little red-breast's grateful throat
“Shall often bring relief.”
“Shalt soothe my constant grief.
“My little red-breast's grateful throat
“Shall often bring relief.”
Thus sigh'd the youth, as slow he mov'd
The silent glade along;
For much the little bird he lov'd,
And much he priz'd his song.
The silent glade along;
For much the little bird he lov'd,
And much he priz'd his song.
For four succeeding winters he
His constant guest had been,
And with familiar warblings free
Had cheer'd the lonely scene.
His constant guest had been,
And with familiar warblings free
Had cheer'd the lonely scene.
198
From Damon's hand full oft he fed,
And oft familiar he
Hopp'd round the board, to pick the bread
Which Damon scatter'd free.
And oft familiar he
Hopp'd round the board, to pick the bread
Which Damon scatter'd free.
At dawn, at noon, at eve full oft
He sought his sheltering cot,
And paid his host with warblings soft,
And cheer'd his lonely lot.
He sought his sheltering cot,
And paid his host with warblings soft,
And cheer'd his lonely lot.
Of all the winter's warbling train
Who raise the lonely note,
Was none possessed so sweet a strain,
Or tuned so clear a throat.
Who raise the lonely note,
Was none possessed so sweet a strain,
Or tuned so clear a throat.
And oft as Damon sat to hear
His sweet, his artless lay,
Would start unbid a tender tear,
And thus he oft would say:
His sweet, his artless lay,
Would start unbid a tender tear,
And thus he oft would say:
“Sweet, sympathising bird! but thou,
“Of all the warbling quire,
“This gloomy shade inhabit'st now;
“I here alone retire.
“Of all the warbling quire,
“This gloomy shade inhabit'st now;
“I here alone retire.
199
“No wonder then, with social love,
“We woo each other's aid,
“The lonely moments to improve
“In this sequester'd glade.
“We woo each other's aid,
“The lonely moments to improve
“In this sequester'd glade.
“Oh Sympathy! blest pow'r! from thee
“Our joys proceed alone.
“How cheerless must the bosom be
“To sympathy unknown!
“Our joys proceed alone.
“How cheerless must the bosom be
“To sympathy unknown!
“For he who makes another blest,
“Or soothes a mourner's woes,
“Gilds with reflected joy his breast,
“And feels what he bestows.”
“Or soothes a mourner's woes,
“Gilds with reflected joy his breast,
“And feels what he bestows.”
Such was his feeling moral strain;
So tender was his mind;
Still prone to feel another's pain,
And to relieve inclin'd.
So tender was his mind;
Still prone to feel another's pain,
And to relieve inclin'd.
Oh grief to think so kind a heart
Distress should ever know!
Or tortur'd with affliction's dart,
Should feel unpitied woe!
Distress should ever know!
Or tortur'd with affliction's dart,
Should feel unpitied woe!
200
Yet why repine, for souls like these,
Prepar'd for heav'nly joys,
By sordid thoughts unclogg'd, with ease
On swifter pinions rise.
Prepar'd for heav'nly joys,
By sordid thoughts unclogg'd, with ease
On swifter pinions rise.
For all, before in heav'n receiv'd,
With sympathy must glow,
As heav'n, 'twill surely be believ'd,
No selfish joys can know.
With sympathy must glow,
As heav'n, 'twill surely be believ'd,
No selfish joys can know.
If so, the mind of sordid frame
Will much refining need
Ere it the realms of bliss can claim,
For generous souls decreed.
Will much refining need
Ere it the realms of bliss can claim,
For generous souls decreed.
But blest are they, to whom below
The feeling heart is giv'n;
They, when they quit this world of woe,
Are wing'd at once for heav'n.
The feeling heart is giv'n;
They, when they quit this world of woe,
Are wing'd at once for heav'n.
201
Canto the Third.
Oh Hope! how oft thy sweetest flow'rs
With swift succession fade!
What art thou, Hope, with all thy pow'rs?
Vain shadow of a shade!
With swift succession fade!
What art thou, Hope, with all thy pow'rs?
Vain shadow of a shade!
A vision's vision!—for on earth
Our joys but visions are;
You—idle fancy's idlest birth,
But promise visions fair;
Our joys but visions are;
You—idle fancy's idlest birth,
But promise visions fair;
202
And scarce your promise e'er fulfil;
For, ere you're well believ'd,
You wake us with some real ill,
And teach us we're deceiv'd.
For, ere you're well believ'd,
You wake us with some real ill,
And teach us we're deceiv'd.
This hapless Damon found too true.
Oh youth by fortune crost!
Must yet more tears thy cheek bedew?
Must yet more joys be lost?
Oh youth by fortune crost!
Must yet more tears thy cheek bedew?
Must yet more joys be lost?
For now, as to his cot he drew,
Stretch'd lifeless on the snow
The little red-breast struck his view:
Hop'd solace of his woe.
Stretch'd lifeless on the snow
The little red-breast struck his view:
Hop'd solace of his woe.
At sight of this, increasing grief
The lover's heart inflam'd;
And first he sought from tears relief,
And, sighing, then exclaim'd:
The lover's heart inflam'd;
And first he sought from tears relief,
And, sighing, then exclaim'd:
“Poor, hapless bird! has then the frost
“Thy social blood congeal'd?
“Have I the only comfort lost
“This hated life could yield?
“Thy social blood congeal'd?
“Have I the only comfort lost
“This hated life could yield?
203
“Alas! while I, with bootless care,
“Forsook my peaceful shade,
“To soothe the vain, fantastic fair,
“You pin'd for want of aid.
“Forsook my peaceful shade,
“To soothe the vain, fantastic fair,
“You pin'd for want of aid.
“Oh had I here, more wise, remain'd,
“I had not lost thee so:
“Yet might thy note have entertain'd
“And sooth'd my bosom's woe.
“I had not lost thee so:
“Yet might thy note have entertain'd
“And sooth'd my bosom's woe.
“My scatter'd crumbs had cherish'd still,
“And kept from pining death:
“My roof had sav'd from breezes chill,
“Which stopp'd thy tuneful breath.
“And kept from pining death:
“My roof had sav'd from breezes chill,
“Which stopp'd thy tuneful breath.
“Ah me ungrateful! thus to pay
“With negligence unkind
“The bird whose sweet, whose social lay
“Oft cheer'd my lonely mind.
“With negligence unkind
“The bird whose sweet, whose social lay
“Oft cheer'd my lonely mind.
“Why left I not a window wide,
“Nor strew'd with crumbs the ground?
“That so thy wants had been supply'd,
“And thou a shelter found.
“Nor strew'd with crumbs the ground?
“That so thy wants had been supply'd,
“And thou a shelter found.
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“Alas! to self-concerns confin'd
“Was all my narrow heart
“My own misfortunes fill'd my mind—
“My red-breast had no part.
“Was all my narrow heart
“My own misfortunes fill'd my mind—
“My red-breast had no part.
“Ah Phebe! Phebe! thine the fault.
“For I, alas! I find,
“Thy thoughtless cruelty have caught,
“And thy too selfish mind.
“For I, alas! I find,
“Thy thoughtless cruelty have caught,
“And thy too selfish mind.
“Yes Phebe, yes, this warbler soft,
“Like me, by thee is slain:
“Yet thou hast heard his song full oft,
“And prais'd his gentle strain.
“Like me, by thee is slain:
“Yet thou hast heard his song full oft,
“And prais'd his gentle strain.
“And once, I can remember well,—
“'Twas when my fair was kind;
“Ere she in cities lov'd to dwell—
“She'd then a gentle mind:
“'Twas when my fair was kind;
“Ere she in cities lov'd to dwell—
“She'd then a gentle mind:
“Once I remember, when the snows
“Had whiten'd o'er the ground,
“And ev'ry stream and lake was froze,
“Each rill in fetters bound,
“Had whiten'd o'er the ground,
“And ev'ry stream and lake was froze,
“Each rill in fetters bound,
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“This little warbler, hopping free
“My humble board around,
“While Phebe, seated on my knee,
“Bestrew'd with crumbs the ground.
“My humble board around,
“While Phebe, seated on my knee,
“Bestrew'd with crumbs the ground.
“At length upon the board he flew,
“And, lured by usage bland,
“More bold, he near, and nearer drew,
“And fed from out her hand.
“And, lured by usage bland,
“More bold, he near, and nearer drew,
“And fed from out her hand.
“Then to a chair he hopp'd so light,
“And stretch'd, and plum'd his wing,
“Then swell'd his throat with all his might,
“His sweetest strain to sing.
“And stretch'd, and plum'd his wing,
“Then swell'd his throat with all his might,
“His sweetest strain to sing.
‘Sweet bird!’ exclaim'd the gentle fair,
‘Full well thy notes repay.
‘Who would not for thy wants prepare,
‘To hear thy dulcet lay?
‘Full well thy notes repay.
‘Who would not for thy wants prepare,
‘To hear thy dulcet lay?
‘And, gentle Damon, kind thy heart,
‘Thy manners mild must be,
‘Who hadst the soft alluring art
‘To make this bird so free.’
‘Thy manners mild must be,
‘Who hadst the soft alluring art
‘To make this bird so free.’
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“'Twas thus she spoke, with moisten'd eye.
“I stopp'd her with a kiss:
“Ah never more must I enjoy
“Such soft, heart-thrilling bliss!
“I stopp'd her with a kiss:
“Ah never more must I enjoy
“Such soft, heart-thrilling bliss!
“For Phebe now, for gaudy pride,
“Her gentle Damon scorns;
“And can this feeling breast deride,
“For one whom lace adorns.
“Her gentle Damon scorns;
“And can this feeling breast deride,
“For one whom lace adorns.
“For one, perhaps, whose haughty door
“Was never open set
“That red-breasts from the scatter'd floor
“The wanted crumbs might get;
“Was never open set
“That red-breasts from the scatter'd floor
“The wanted crumbs might get;
“And if by chance should one intrude,
“By hunger render'd bold,
“Would seize him, with oppression rude,
“And liberty withhold;
“By hunger render'd bold,
“Would seize him, with oppression rude,
“And liberty withhold;
“There in some gilded cage to pine,
“And mourn his absent mate;
“His wings to droop, his head decline,
“And meet a timeless fate.
“And mourn his absent mate;
“His wings to droop, his head decline,
“And meet a timeless fate.
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“For such an one, whose selfish breast
“No sympathy refines,
“Nor pities those with want opprest,
“While he in state reclines;—
“No sympathy refines,
“Nor pities those with want opprest,
“While he in state reclines;—
“For such an one is Damon scorn'd.
“Ah Phebe, cruel maid!
“For such, with gaudy pride adorn'd,
“Is Damon's peace betray'd?
“Ah Phebe, cruel maid!
“For such, with gaudy pride adorn'd,
“Is Damon's peace betray'd?
“Why didst thou praise the tender mind,
“Unless you lov'd the same?
“For ah! thy praise, so seeming kind,
“Has fann'd the tender flame.
“Unless you lov'd the same?
“For ah! thy praise, so seeming kind,
“Has fann'd the tender flame.
“Why praise my sympathetic song,
“Unless the theme you lov'd?
“For sympathy grew doubly strong
“When you its force approv'd.
“Unless the theme you lov'd?
“For sympathy grew doubly strong
“When you its force approv'd.
“But thou art chang'd; unhappy maid!
“Thou art no more the same.
“The town, with all its gay parade,
“Has deaden'd feeling's claim.
“Thou art no more the same.
“The town, with all its gay parade,
“Has deaden'd feeling's claim.
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“Nor sympathy is lost alone;
“But ev'ry virtue fades—
“Each virtue that so brightly shone
“Within these peaceful shades:
“But ev'ry virtue fades—
“Each virtue that so brightly shone
“Within these peaceful shades:
“Simplicity, with tongue sincere,
“And bosom free from guile;
“And modesty, with bashful gear,
“And blushing cheek the while.
“And bosom free from guile;
“And modesty, with bashful gear,
“And blushing cheek the while.
“Humility, in plainness drest,
“And truth, devoid of art;
“And constancy, with calmness blest;
“And sweet content of heart.
“And truth, devoid of art;
“And constancy, with calmness blest;
“And sweet content of heart.
“These has she chang'd for idle toys;
“And chastity has sold:—
“For her as chaste we ne'er can prize
“Who sells her charms for gold.
“And chastity has sold:—
“For her as chaste we ne'er can prize
“Who sells her charms for gold.
“Yet shalt thou find, unhappy maid!
“And oft with tears shalt rue,
“To grief and woe thou wert betray'd
“When first thou prov'dst untrue.
“And oft with tears shalt rue,
“To grief and woe thou wert betray'd
“When first thou prov'dst untrue.
209
“Soon shalt thou find the noisy town,
“And grandeur's gaudy life,
“Not long the voice of love can drown,
“Or chace domestic strife.
“And grandeur's gaudy life,
“Not long the voice of love can drown,
“Or chace domestic strife.
“The fickle heart thy beauty warms
“Thy beauty soon shall cloy;
“For love inspir'd by outward charms
“Possession will destroy.
“Thy beauty soon shall cloy;
“For love inspir'd by outward charms
“Possession will destroy.
“When sick with dissipated joys,
“When grandeur's charms shall fade,
“Then shalt thou wish thy humbler choice—
“My cottage and my glade.
“When grandeur's charms shall fade,
“Then shalt thou wish thy humbler choice—
“My cottage and my glade.
“But I, alas! unpity'd here
“Must, pining, droop forlorn,
“And nought my drooping heart shall cheer
“At even, noon, or dawn.
“Must, pining, droop forlorn,
“And nought my drooping heart shall cheer
“At even, noon, or dawn.
“Alas! I hop'd, sweet bird! that thou,
“Who cheer'dst my heart so oft,
“Wouldst mitigate my anguish now
“With plaintive warblings soft.
“Who cheer'dst my heart so oft,
“Wouldst mitigate my anguish now
“With plaintive warblings soft.
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“Sweet bird! who knows the bitter pains
“That rent thy little breast,
“While wand'ring o'er the snowy plains,
“With cold and want opprest?
“That rent thy little breast,
“While wand'ring o'er the snowy plains,
“With cold and want opprest?
“Perhaps each morn, with constant care,
“Thou sought'st my cottage door;
“In hopes those scatter'd crumbs to share
“Thou shar'dst so oft before.
“Thou sought'st my cottage door;
“In hopes those scatter'd crumbs to share
“Thou shar'dst so oft before.
“Perhaps thou strain'dst thy little throat,
“In hopes to reach my ear;
“Repeating ev'ry tender note
“I wont with smiles to hear.
“In hopes to reach my ear;
“Repeating ev'ry tender note
“I wont with smiles to hear.
“And while the snow was falling thick,
“And while the bleak winds blew,
“Thou cam'st my sheltering roof to seek,
“As thou wert wont to do.
“And while the bleak winds blew,
“Thou cam'st my sheltering roof to seek,
“As thou wert wont to do.
“And when thou couldst no entrance gain,
“Perhaps with drooping head,
“Perch'd on the threshold, pierc'd with pain,
“Thou mourn'dst thy guardian fled;
“Perhaps with drooping head,
“Perch'd on the threshold, pierc'd with pain,
“Thou mourn'dst thy guardian fled;
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“Till pinch'd by hunger, cold, and grief,
“All stiffen'd on the snow,
“No friendly care to bring relief,
“Thy bosom ceas'd to glow.
“All stiffen'd on the snow,
“No friendly care to bring relief,
“Thy bosom ceas'd to glow.
“Farewel, sweet bird! no more thy throat
“Shall cheer thy Damon's woe;
“No more, alas! thy liquid note
“In grateful thanks shall flow.
“Shall cheer thy Damon's woe;
“No more, alas! thy liquid note
“In grateful thanks shall flow.
“Yet at my humble board each morn
“I'll heave for thee a sigh;
“For thee, at silent eve forlorn,
“A tear shall fill my eye.
“I'll heave for thee a sigh;
“For thee, at silent eve forlorn,
“A tear shall fill my eye.
“Thy wonted sports I then shall grieve,
“And miss thy tender song.—
“But sure, unless my mind deceive,
“I shall not miss them long:
“And miss thy tender song.—
“But sure, unless my mind deceive,
“I shall not miss them long:
“For ah my pained heart beats slow,
“My spirits inly faint.—
“My bird, thou shalt to Phebe go,
“And of my end acquaint.”
“My spirits inly faint.—
“My bird, thou shalt to Phebe go,
“And of my end acquaint.”
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His hapless bird then took the youth,
And wash'd with many a tear;
And enter'd, whelm'd with love and ruth,
His cottage lone and drear.
And wash'd with many a tear;
And enter'd, whelm'd with love and ruth,
His cottage lone and drear.
And down he sat, with aching heart,
To frame a ditty neat.
Then did he all his thoughts impart
In roundelay full sweet.
To frame a ditty neat.
Then did he all his thoughts impart
In roundelay full sweet.
At last these mournful verses came;
Which scarcely might be read,
So blotted were with tears the same,
Adown his cheek which sped.
Which scarcely might be read,
So blotted were with tears the same,
Adown his cheek which sped.
“Then farewel Phebe, cruel maid!
“For ever and for aye.
“The heart thy faithless love betray'd
“Is melting fast away.
“For ever and for aye.
“The heart thy faithless love betray'd
“Is melting fast away.
“Soon shall unhappy Damon be
“As this his bird so dear.
“Death soon his troubled heart shall free
“From all its pangs severe.
“As this his bird so dear.
“Death soon his troubled heart shall free
“From all its pangs severe.
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“Yet Phebe, when the timeless grave
“Shall Damon's sorrows hide,
“This last small favour let me crave—
“Nor be the boon denied:
“Shall Damon's sorrows hide,
“This last small favour let me crave—
“Nor be the boon denied:
“Beneath the turf where I am laid
“Let this poor Red-breast lay;
“And let, to all who pass the glade,
“The mournful stanza say:
“Let this poor Red-breast lay;
“And let, to all who pass the glade,
“The mournful stanza say:
“Here, underneath this verdant tomb,
“Is laid a hapless swain;
“A tenant of this peaceful gloom;
“By love untimely slain.
“Is laid a hapless swain;
“A tenant of this peaceful gloom;
“By love untimely slain.
“The social bird, whose tender lay
“So often cheer'd his mind,
“Now moulders by his side away,
“For lack of whom he pin'd.
“So often cheer'd his mind,
“Now moulders by his side away,
“For lack of whom he pin'd.
“Learn hence ye youths: beware of love!
“For fatal is his dart.
“Learn hence ye maids: nor faithless prove,
“Nor slight the constant heart.”
“For fatal is his dart.
“Learn hence ye maids: nor faithless prove,
“Nor slight the constant heart.”
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These mournful lines when Phebe read,
Her heart was pierc'd with grief;
And soon to Damon's cot she fled,
To give his woes relief.
Her heart was pierc'd with grief;
And soon to Damon's cot she fled,
To give his woes relief.
But ah! too late the fair-one came;
For Damon was no more.
Then did she loud her grief proclaim,
And her false heart deplore.
For Damon was no more.
Then did she loud her grief proclaim,
And her false heart deplore.
She stretch'd her on his grassy grave;
She mourn'd her foolish pride,
The while her tears the ground did lave;
She groan'd full oft and sigh'd;
She mourn'd her foolish pride,
The while her tears the ground did lave;
She groan'd full oft and sigh'd;
While sighs of anguish rent her breast,
She tore her flowing hair.
Her looks, her actions all confest
Delirium and despair.
She tore her flowing hair.
Her looks, her actions all confest
Delirium and despair.
Long did she lay, and wildly rave,
With mingled tears and sighs,
Till, stretch'd upon her Damon's grave,
Death seal'd at length her eyes.
With mingled tears and sighs,
Till, stretch'd upon her Damon's grave,
Death seal'd at length her eyes.
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The village maids and village swains
In time came flocking round.
They sung their sad funereal strains,
And laid her in the ground.
In time came flocking round.
They sung their sad funereal strains,
And laid her in the ground.
They laid her close by Damon's side,
With flow'rs of ivy strew'd.
Then thus the hoary Thenot sigh'd,
With wisdom much endu'd:
With flow'rs of ivy strew'd.
Then thus the hoary Thenot sigh'd,
With wisdom much endu'd:
“Ye fair-ones, see what heavy woe
“Will on the maiden light,
“Whoe'er for av'rice, pride, and show
“Would break her virgin plight.
“Will on the maiden light,
“Whoe'er for av'rice, pride, and show
“Would break her virgin plight.
“In vain ambition, pleasure, state
“Would fond affection quell;
“The strong impression, soon or late,
“These tyrants will repel.
“Would fond affection quell;
“The strong impression, soon or late,
“These tyrants will repel.
“Tho' love may be a while supprest,
“His empire he'll regain,
“And wound with bitter pangs the breast
“Which dar'd his sway disdain.”
“His empire he'll regain,
“And wound with bitter pangs the breast
“Which dar'd his sway disdain.”
END OF VOL. I.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |