The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill ... A New Edition, Corrected and Enlarged. In Two Volumes |
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PROLOGUE:
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 | The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill |  |
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PROLOGUE:
Written at the request of the Managers of the Public Kitchen at Edinburgh, for the Benefit of the Poor, 1801.
When discord first, with hate infuriate, hurled
Their baneful influence o'er a suff'ring world;
Broke the firm bands of kindred joys asunder,
And left in want the wretch to weep, and—wonder;
Thrilled with despair;—unfriended, and oppressed,
With hagard eye, pale Poverty, distressed,
Roamed the lone wild, a wretched life to save,
And, shivering, sunk in famine's darkening cave!—
There, sad, she pined, and wailed her hopeles moan,
Earth her damp pillow! and her bed—cold stone!
Till Charity (from Heaven's fair lineage sprung,
Nymph of the melting heart and soothing tongue)
Swift from yon starry vault's ethereal blue,
To want's dark cell with pitying ardour flew!
Their baneful influence o'er a suff'ring world;
Broke the firm bands of kindred joys asunder,
And left in want the wretch to weep, and—wonder;
Thrilled with despair;—unfriended, and oppressed,
With hagard eye, pale Poverty, distressed,
Roamed the lone wild, a wretched life to save,
And, shivering, sunk in famine's darkening cave!—
There, sad, she pined, and wailed her hopeles moan,
Earth her damp pillow! and her bed—cold stone!
116
Nymph of the melting heart and soothing tongue)
Swift from yon starry vault's ethereal blue,
To want's dark cell with pitying ardour flew!
Cheered with celestial rays that chased the gloom,
The fainting mourner waked—as from the tomb;
Saw the sweet harbinger of joy again
Steal on soft tip-toe to the bed of pain;
O'er the cold breast her mantling vestments spread;
Wipe the damp brow, and raise the drooping head;
Pour the rich cordial, trickling to the heart;
Brace the lax fibre, and new strength impart;
Kindle fond hope; and, beck'ning with a smile,
Lure, while she flew to Britain's fostering isle!
To Britain's isle! where, cherished by her care,
The poor, if virtuous, never know despair:
Warmed by her beams, each bosom learns to glow,
And throb, and feel—the sympathy of woe!
From ocean's gen'rous sons (in fame enrolled)
To Scotia's mountains, and her patriots bold;—
Alike her magic power o'er land and wave:
—The flame of pity ever warms the brave!
Oh! could its light but harmonize the breast,
And guide again the jarring world to rest!
Spread with mild radiance far from shore to shore,
Till friendship binds, and discord's heard no more!
Till candour starts at reason's temperate call,
And mercy wafts humanity—to all!
This night, where Charity's celestial flame
Gilds with mild lustre Scotia's annalled fame;
Beams in each conscious eye, and, heavenly meek,
Glows in soft blushes on each fair one's cheek;
This night! indeed, would mock the flowers of rhime,
And stamp an era for recording time!
The fainting mourner waked—as from the tomb;
Saw the sweet harbinger of joy again
Steal on soft tip-toe to the bed of pain;
O'er the cold breast her mantling vestments spread;
Wipe the damp brow, and raise the drooping head;
Pour the rich cordial, trickling to the heart;
Brace the lax fibre, and new strength impart;
Kindle fond hope; and, beck'ning with a smile,
Lure, while she flew to Britain's fostering isle!
117
The poor, if virtuous, never know despair:
Warmed by her beams, each bosom learns to glow,
And throb, and feel—the sympathy of woe!
From ocean's gen'rous sons (in fame enrolled)
To Scotia's mountains, and her patriots bold;—
Alike her magic power o'er land and wave:
—The flame of pity ever warms the brave!
Oh! could its light but harmonize the breast,
And guide again the jarring world to rest!
Spread with mild radiance far from shore to shore,
Till friendship binds, and discord's heard no more!
Till candour starts at reason's temperate call,
And mercy wafts humanity—to all!
This night, where Charity's celestial flame
Gilds with mild lustre Scotia's annalled fame;
118
Glows in soft blushes on each fair one's cheek;
This night! indeed, would mock the flowers of rhime,
And stamp an era for recording time!
Enough for us, who claim no higher care
Than aid the wretched, and repel despair;
To light the lamp in Poverty's dark cell,
And lend new strength to those who—struggle well;
—Enough for us! expiring worth to save,
And cheer the path of virtue to the grave!
Than aid the wretched, and repel despair;
To light the lamp in Poverty's dark cell,
And lend new strength to those who—struggle well;
—Enough for us! expiring worth to save,
And cheer the path of virtue to the grave!
| The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill | |