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 Shamrock |  |
392
LETTER IV.
INSCRIBED TO MISS NUGENT.
At length the Mansion gains the welcome Shore,
While from its Sides repeated Thunders roar;
Unmov'd, unhurt, the gathering Croud appear,
With Shouts of Gladness, unrestrain'd by Fear:
Surprizing! how the Thunderers employ
The self same Art, to please, and to destroy.
No Object, yet, confirms the promis'd Bliss;
Thy dear-lov'd Empire differs wide from this:
We disembark; and now once more I stand,
(Freed from my Fear) on firm and solid Land;
My Sickness left me; and my Pains decreas'd,
All but the cruel Inmate of my Breast.
As yet, none else but Savages appear,
Their Dress the same with that my Keepers wear;
Houses on Houses still aspiring rise,
And lofty Turrets threat the neighbouring Skies;
No costly Trappings deck the outward Wall,
Like the Sun's Temple in thy Capital:
Though unadorn'd with that external Shew;
Within, what Wonders stand expos'd to View!
Just as my Feet had gain'd a sumptuous Room,
(My Thoughts engross'd by my precarious Doom)
Facing the Door, behold compleatly dress'd,
A virgin Daughter of the Sun confess'd:
A secret Joy my throbbing Bosom warms,
To clasp my Sister-Sufferer to my Arms;
The Maid, transported, with an equal Haste,
Moves as I move, and flies to be embrac'd:
Delusion all; my Arms are stretch'd in vain;
Fruitless I rush against the glossy Plain;
A shining Surface to my Sight supplies
The extended Form, but all Access denies;
And, when my Tears in briny Currents flow,
She seems to feel a Sympathy of Woe:
While on the Maid attentively I gaz'd,
My Grief was banish'd by my Wonder rais'd:
The friendly Cazique's Form I seem'd to view,
Close by the first that my Attention drew;
Here, while I touch him with a dubious Hand,
There, I behold the just Resemblance stand:
Strange! that the self-same Person should appear,
At the same Time, so distant, and so near.
No more I seek that Daughter of the Sun,
Taught to believe the Virgin Form my own;
But, why, or, wherefore? Ignorance combin'd
With blinded Error still obscures my Mind.
The utmost Knowlege our Amutas boast
Would Nought avail on this surprizing Coast:
Where'er I go, the wildly-staring Throng,
Gaping, surround me as I move along;
They gaze astonish'd, as they ne'er had seen
A Virgin Garb, or e'er at Cusco been.
My Soul no Bliss can taste, 'till Aza's Arms,
Encircling, guard me from all future Harms:
While thus I wander, widow'd, and alone,
The World's a Desart wild, when thou art gone;
No Path to guide my Footsteps to the Goal;
No Place to rest my weak and wearied Soul.
Still more and more Uncertainties appear;
My Hopes are foil'd with Doubts, and with Despair;
'Tis dark and dubious all: But yet, I find
This Nation form'd beneficent and kind;
Of Temper open, unreserved, and free;
But oft inclin'd to trifling Levity:
With such Velocity their Accents flow,
My Ears can scarce pursue them as they go;
Fluent in Words, accustom'd in Grimace,
A talking, active, thoughtless, pleasing Race;
Always in Action, ever brisk and gay,
In gladsome Mirth they pass the live-long Day;
As we are 'custom'd, when, with willing Hands,
We cultivate our richly-grateful Lands.
While from its Sides repeated Thunders roar;
Unmov'd, unhurt, the gathering Croud appear,
With Shouts of Gladness, unrestrain'd by Fear:
Surprizing! how the Thunderers employ
The self same Art, to please, and to destroy.
No Object, yet, confirms the promis'd Bliss;
Thy dear-lov'd Empire differs wide from this:
We disembark; and now once more I stand,
(Freed from my Fear) on firm and solid Land;
My Sickness left me; and my Pains decreas'd,
All but the cruel Inmate of my Breast.
As yet, none else but Savages appear,
Their Dress the same with that my Keepers wear;
Houses on Houses still aspiring rise,
And lofty Turrets threat the neighbouring Skies;
No costly Trappings deck the outward Wall,
Like the Sun's Temple in thy Capital:
Though unadorn'd with that external Shew;
Within, what Wonders stand expos'd to View!
Just as my Feet had gain'd a sumptuous Room,
(My Thoughts engross'd by my precarious Doom)
393
A virgin Daughter of the Sun confess'd:
A secret Joy my throbbing Bosom warms,
To clasp my Sister-Sufferer to my Arms;
The Maid, transported, with an equal Haste,
Moves as I move, and flies to be embrac'd:
Delusion all; my Arms are stretch'd in vain;
Fruitless I rush against the glossy Plain;
A shining Surface to my Sight supplies
The extended Form, but all Access denies;
And, when my Tears in briny Currents flow,
She seems to feel a Sympathy of Woe:
While on the Maid attentively I gaz'd,
My Grief was banish'd by my Wonder rais'd:
The friendly Cazique's Form I seem'd to view,
Close by the first that my Attention drew;
Here, while I touch him with a dubious Hand,
There, I behold the just Resemblance stand:
Strange! that the self-same Person should appear,
At the same Time, so distant, and so near.
No more I seek that Daughter of the Sun,
Taught to believe the Virgin Form my own;
But, why, or, wherefore? Ignorance combin'd
With blinded Error still obscures my Mind.
The utmost Knowlege our Amutas boast
Would Nought avail on this surprizing Coast:
Where'er I go, the wildly-staring Throng,
Gaping, surround me as I move along;
They gaze astonish'd, as they ne'er had seen
A Virgin Garb, or e'er at Cusco been.
394
Encircling, guard me from all future Harms:
While thus I wander, widow'd, and alone,
The World's a Desart wild, when thou art gone;
No Path to guide my Footsteps to the Goal;
No Place to rest my weak and wearied Soul.
Still more and more Uncertainties appear;
My Hopes are foil'd with Doubts, and with Despair;
'Tis dark and dubious all: But yet, I find
This Nation form'd beneficent and kind;
Of Temper open, unreserved, and free;
But oft inclin'd to trifling Levity:
With such Velocity their Accents flow,
My Ears can scarce pursue them as they go;
Fluent in Words, accustom'd in Grimace,
A talking, active, thoughtless, pleasing Race;
Always in Action, ever brisk and gay,
In gladsome Mirth they pass the live-long Day;
As we are 'custom'd, when, with willing Hands,
We cultivate our richly-grateful Lands.
Was I to judge, from different Manners shewn,
Among this savage Nation, and my own,
My Hopes would vanish; but that I have been told,
Ere that the Spaniards sought our sordid Gold;
What glorious Paths thy conquering Sire pursu'd
To distant Realms, and Provinces subdu'd;
This may be one of those; the Sun here seems,
Pleas'd to adorn it with his purest Beams;
How long must I remain unsatisfy'd,
Of this my Fate, all Use of Speech deny'd;
That high Distinction, which all-gracious Heaven
To Man, its Image, o'er the Brute has given,
Avails not me; condemn'd to inward Moan,
My sad Complaints are understood by none:
How long, ye Powers, am I ordain'd to wait,
Ere I can know my still precarious Fate?
Oh! could I once the Knowlege but attain
Of this new Language, 'twould allay my Pain;
But all in vain, is every Art essay'd;
Nor aught avails my willing China's Aid:
Language deny'd, I oft indeed divine
The Cazique's Meaning, by the mystic Sign:
These Signs to all the Savages are known,
Not, as I guess'd, confin'd to me alone;
Sudden, and quick in Thought, Words scarce suffice,
Their Bodies' Motion must assist the Voice;
The imperfect Sentence lingers half-express'd,
From the shrugg'd Shoulder we must guess the Rest.
Wouldst thou believe it? in this barbarous Place,
That Men and Men most frequently embrace?
The Women's Cheeks here meet the public Kiss;
No Blush succeeds, nor is it held amiss.
To their Vivacity, our serious Air,
And slow Expression, aukward must appear:
But yet, might I relenting Fate implore
To guide thy Steps to this fantastic Shore,
My Aza's Presence such Content would give,
Even here, delighted with my Lord, I'd live.
Whate'er they do, an unaffected Ease
Reigns through the Whole; and, haply, by Degrees,
What now astonishes, may learn to please.
But wherefore here?—for, what avails the Place?
My wish'd-for Blessing is thy kind Embrace;
With thee, my Love, I'd through the Desart roam,
Through parch'd Savannas, or the Forest's Gloom;
Thy manly Virtue should my Soul sustain,
To smile at Labour, and habituate Pain.
Among this savage Nation, and my own,
My Hopes would vanish; but that I have been told,
Ere that the Spaniards sought our sordid Gold;
What glorious Paths thy conquering Sire pursu'd
To distant Realms, and Provinces subdu'd;
This may be one of those; the Sun here seems,
Pleas'd to adorn it with his purest Beams;
How long must I remain unsatisfy'd,
Of this my Fate, all Use of Speech deny'd;
That high Distinction, which all-gracious Heaven
To Man, its Image, o'er the Brute has given,
Avails not me; condemn'd to inward Moan,
My sad Complaints are understood by none:
395
Ere I can know my still precarious Fate?
Oh! could I once the Knowlege but attain
Of this new Language, 'twould allay my Pain;
But all in vain, is every Art essay'd;
Nor aught avails my willing China's Aid:
Language deny'd, I oft indeed divine
The Cazique's Meaning, by the mystic Sign:
These Signs to all the Savages are known,
Not, as I guess'd, confin'd to me alone;
Sudden, and quick in Thought, Words scarce suffice,
Their Bodies' Motion must assist the Voice;
The imperfect Sentence lingers half-express'd,
From the shrugg'd Shoulder we must guess the Rest.
Wouldst thou believe it? in this barbarous Place,
That Men and Men most frequently embrace?
The Women's Cheeks here meet the public Kiss;
No Blush succeeds, nor is it held amiss.
To their Vivacity, our serious Air,
And slow Expression, aukward must appear:
But yet, might I relenting Fate implore
To guide thy Steps to this fantastic Shore,
My Aza's Presence such Content would give,
Even here, delighted with my Lord, I'd live.
Whate'er they do, an unaffected Ease
Reigns through the Whole; and, haply, by Degrees,
What now astonishes, may learn to please.
But wherefore here?—for, what avails the Place?
My wish'd-for Blessing is thy kind Embrace;
With thee, my Love, I'd through the Desart roam,
Through parch'd Savannas, or the Forest's Gloom;
396
To smile at Labour, and habituate Pain.
Of late, a Cusipata
tries to teach
My aukward Tongue this strange invented Speech:
Some Words I have learn'd, though scarcely can express;
Yet, still, I'll try to sooth my sad Distress,
At least in Part: Oh! much I long to know
The Story, Cause, and Progress of our Woe.
My aukward Tongue this strange invented Speech:
Some Words I have learn'd, though scarcely can express;
Yet, still, I'll try to sooth my sad Distress,
At least in Part: Oh! much I long to know
The Story, Cause, and Progress of our Woe.
| The Shamrock | |