The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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THE FOUNDLING. |
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 | The Shamrock |  |
369
THE FOUNDLING.
INSCRIBED TO MISS ELIZA GORDON.
As t'other Day fair Chloe stray'd,
Where Nith, slow-murmuring, glides along,
Chloe, by far the brightest Maid,
That e'er adorn'd a Shepherd's Song,
She chanc'd to meet the God of Love,
A naked Urchin, poor, and blind:
So sad a Sight would surely move
The hardest Heart,—the most unkind!
Where Nith, slow-murmuring, glides along,
Chloe, by far the brightest Maid,
That e'er adorn'd a Shepherd's Song,
She chanc'd to meet the God of Love,
A naked Urchin, poor, and blind:
So sad a Sight would surely move
The hardest Heart,—the most unkind!
But, Chloe's Heart the Graces form'd;
And form'd it generous, and mild:
Its deep Recesses Pity warm'd,
And Innocence, which ne'er beguil'd:
Religion here had fix'd her Throne;
And each fair Virtue, too, their Seat;
And here,—an Offspring of their own,—
Was Honour's favourite Retreat.
And form'd it generous, and mild:
Its deep Recesses Pity warm'd,
And Innocence, which ne'er beguil'd:
Religion here had fix'd her Throne;
And each fair Virtue, too, their Seat;
And here,—an Offspring of their own,—
Was Honour's favourite Retreat.
370
‘Alas! poor Child!’—the Virgin cried—
‘Where wanderest thou, so cold a Day,
‘Stark blind, and none thy Steps to guide?
‘Say, whither dost thou madly stray?’
“Your Pity, Ma'am, is well apply'd—
“I'm a poor Orphan, quite forlorn,”
(In blubbering Accents he reply'd)
“And blind, as now you view me, born:
‘Where wanderest thou, so cold a Day,
‘Stark blind, and none thy Steps to guide?
‘Say, whither dost thou madly stray?’
“Your Pity, Ma'am, is well apply'd—
“I'm a poor Orphan, quite forlorn,”
(In blubbering Accents he reply'd)
“And blind, as now you view me, born:
“Let not that Pity, then, which sways
“Thy Mind, in Words alone be shewn;
“But, by relieving me, amaze
“Those Hearts, which ne'er have Pity known.”
The lovely Nymph comply'd with Joy,
And o'er his Back her Mantle threw;
And, as she homeward led the Boy,
‘Now bid,’ she cried, ‘thy Woes adieu!’
“Thy Mind, in Words alone be shewn;
“But, by relieving me, amaze
“Those Hearts, which ne'er have Pity known.”
The lovely Nymph comply'd with Joy,
And o'er his Back her Mantle threw;
And, as she homeward led the Boy,
‘Now bid,’ she cried, ‘thy Woes adieu!’
Soon was he to a Nurse consign'd,
And soon in warmest Cradle laid;
And soon, as the poor Child was blind,
A skilful Surgeon lent his Aid:
At length, of human Hearts the Lord,
And (well I ween) of Angels too,
If you will take a Poet's Word,
Was cur'd, and saw as well as you.
And soon in warmest Cradle laid;
And soon, as the poor Child was blind,
A skilful Surgeon lent his Aid:
At length, of human Hearts the Lord,
And (well I ween) of Angels too,
If you will take a Poet's Word,
Was cur'd, and saw as well as you.
And now he waves his roseate Wings,
Which cunningly he hid before—
But how, it matters not—and sings,
When nimbly he had reach'd the Door,
“Henceforth I'll aim my Shafts aright:”
(So saying, one he launch'd at me)
“Let him proclaim I've gain'd my Sight,
“By, charming Chloe, loving thee.”
Which cunningly he hid before—
But how, it matters not—and sings,
When nimbly he had reach'd the Door,
“Henceforth I'll aim my Shafts aright:”
(So saying, one he launch'd at me)
“Let him proclaim I've gain'd my Sight,
“By, charming Chloe, loving thee.”
| The Shamrock | |