 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
229
THE POWER of BEAUTY.
A POEM.
In golden Times, when Virtue's Pow'r prevail'd;
Ere Truth took Wing, or publick Credit fail'd;
When Poets sung, as Heav'n, it self, inspir'd;
And Men were just to Merit they admir'd:
A Lady fair, Saphira was her Name!
Grac'd Salem's Court, and higher rais'd its Fame:
Fix'd was the Eye, that e'er her Glories view'd,
Nor scap'd a Heart in Israel, unsubdu'd.
Ere Truth took Wing, or publick Credit fail'd;
When Poets sung, as Heav'n, it self, inspir'd;
And Men were just to Merit they admir'd:
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Grac'd Salem's Court, and higher rais'd its Fame:
Fix'd was the Eye, that e'er her Glories view'd,
Nor scap'd a Heart in Israel, unsubdu'd.
Her, rival Lovers crowded to adore,
And Blood boil'd hot, that Icy was before.
But none the Pow'r of Beauty better knew,
Than tuneful Bards, whose whole Address she drew.
Low, at her Feet, their Labours most were laid,
And most she lik'd the Homage, that they paid.
All urg'd their Suit, and willingly submit
To Solomon, the Judge of Men, and Wit:
He, high enthron'd, amidst his Nobles sate,
To try their Merit, and conclude Debate.
They, bowing low, expect th' important Theme,
And hope, to win the Prize of Love, and Fame.
And Blood boil'd hot, that Icy was before.
But none the Pow'r of Beauty better knew,
Than tuneful Bards, whose whole Address she drew.
Low, at her Feet, their Labours most were laid,
And most she lik'd the Homage, that they paid.
All urg'd their Suit, and willingly submit
To Solomon, the Judge of Men, and Wit:
He, high enthron'd, amidst his Nobles sate,
To try their Merit, and conclude Debate.
They, bowing low, expect th' important Theme,
And hope, to win the Prize of Love, and Fame.
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Strait, was the Question publish'd, by the King,
In few, plain, Words—What's the most pow'rful Thing?
First, solemn Silence Ahab-melech broke,
He lov'd the King, and loyally he spoke.
“O Sage in Counsel, as, by Armies, strong,
“What, but thy Self, deserves the Poets' Song?
“Thou, God's Vicegerent! hast the greatest Pow'r:
“Thou art th' Almighty, but in Miniature!
“All Things the Art, and Arms, of Men obey,
“And Men are rul'd by thy unrival'd Sway.
Here Flatterers shout, and wou'd the Trial end,
When Sahab rose, his Topick to defend.
“Is there, said He, a greater Pow'r, than Gold?
“What King, without it, can Dominion hold?
“I flatter not—and let my Rivals prove,
“That there is ought more prevalent, in Love.
In few, plain, Words—What's the most pow'rful Thing?
First, solemn Silence Ahab-melech broke,
He lov'd the King, and loyally he spoke.
“O Sage in Counsel, as, by Armies, strong,
“What, but thy Self, deserves the Poets' Song?
“Thou, God's Vicegerent! hast the greatest Pow'r:
“Thou art th' Almighty, but in Miniature!
“All Things the Art, and Arms, of Men obey,
“And Men are rul'd by thy unrival'd Sway.
Here Flatterers shout, and wou'd the Trial end,
When Sahab rose, his Topick to defend.
“Is there, said He, a greater Pow'r, than Gold?
“What King, without it, can Dominion hold?
“I flatter not—and let my Rivals prove,
“That there is ought more prevalent, in Love.
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A second Noise ran murmuring thro' the Hall,
When, thus, Shethigah husht Opinions all.
“Wine has the Pow'r, that nothing else can claim:
“Omnipotence! but with another Name.
“With It, in vain, we Kings and Gold compare:
“Both are but Dust, and shall to Dust repair!
“Mankind may starve amidst a hoarded Store,
“And Time, once lost, can be redeem'd no more.
“But Wine, immortal, as its Author, lives,
“And fresh Recruits, to all its Votaries, gives.
“Wit, Sense, and Reason, Glories of the Soul!
“Govern'd by Wine, confess its sweet Controul.
When, thus, Shethigah husht Opinions all.
“Wine has the Pow'r, that nothing else can claim:
“Omnipotence! but with another Name.
“With It, in vain, we Kings and Gold compare:
“Both are but Dust, and shall to Dust repair!
“Mankind may starve amidst a hoarded Store,
“And Time, once lost, can be redeem'd no more.
“But Wine, immortal, as its Author, lives,
“And fresh Recruits, to all its Votaries, gives.
“Wit, Sense, and Reason, Glories of the Soul!
“Govern'd by Wine, confess its sweet Controul.
Here was each Lover of the Grape alarm'd,
And, in Defence of his dear Bottle, warm'd;
When solemn Jashen from his Seat arose,
And silenc'd, thus, the Faction of his Foes.
“Conquests, he said, by Pow'r of Wine obtain'd,
“Soon lose their Virtue, and the Place they gain'd.
“Sleep, potent Sleep! kind Nature's friendly Aid!
“Restores the Force, by tempting Juice betray'd.
“Tho' dull, and lazy, It, perhaps, appears,
“Instruct, ye Rivals, what more Victory wears.
“Does it not ev'ry blust'ring Passion bind,
“And, at its Pleasure, silence all Mankind?
And, in Defence of his dear Bottle, warm'd;
When solemn Jashen from his Seat arose,
And silenc'd, thus, the Faction of his Foes.
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“Soon lose their Virtue, and the Place they gain'd.
“Sleep, potent Sleep! kind Nature's friendly Aid!
“Restores the Force, by tempting Juice betray'd.
“Tho' dull, and lazy, It, perhaps, appears,
“Instruct, ye Rivals, what more Victory wears.
“Does it not ev'ry blust'ring Passion bind,
“And, at its Pleasure, silence all Mankind?
Again loud Murmurs shew'd a Party Zeal,
When Jubal rose, and made the next Appeal.
“Strong Arguments, to shew the greatest Strength,
“At best, are weak, if forc'd to yield at length.
“Water, alone, with a resistless Force,
“O'er boasted Mounds, precipitates its Course.
“With Rush impetuous, did not mighty Floods
“Deluge the Plains, and sweep o'er Hills and Woods?
“Deep under Waves, the Pomp of Nature sunk,
“And Birds, and Beasts, and Men, Destruction drunk.
When Jubal rose, and made the next Appeal.
“Strong Arguments, to shew the greatest Strength,
“At best, are weak, if forc'd to yield at length.
“Water, alone, with a resistless Force,
“O'er boasted Mounds, precipitates its Course.
“With Rush impetuous, did not mighty Floods
“Deluge the Plains, and sweep o'er Hills and Woods?
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“And Birds, and Beasts, and Men, Destruction drunk.
Scarce what he spake had the Assembly heard,
Ere hot Menorah in the Crowd, appear'd.
“'Tis Fire alone Omnipotence can boast;
“For, by its Pow'r, all other Pow'r is lost.
“Fire wastes whole Cities, Nations, in its Way,
“And will, at last, make Heav'n and Earth a Prey.
“Th' united Forces, of the spacious Main,
“May try to conquer, but shall try, in vain.
Ere hot Menorah in the Crowd, appear'd.
“'Tis Fire alone Omnipotence can boast;
“For, by its Pow'r, all other Pow'r is lost.
“Fire wastes whole Cities, Nations, in its Way,
“And will, at last, make Heav'n and Earth a Prey.
“Th' united Forces, of the spacious Main,
“May try to conquer, but shall try, in vain.
Then grim Themuthah, looking stern, began:
“Till my contending Brothers clearly can
“Produce a Pow'r, more terrible, than Death,
“In vain, they spend their argumentive Breath.
“Despotic, He, o'er this Creation reigns,
“And binds the mighty, in eternal Chains.
“Survey his Strength, when, on the hostile Field,
“The proudest Victors to his Triumph yield.
“Think how he stalks, o'er dreadful Conquests made,
“Himself the only Terror unafraid!
“Experience shews my Argument is good,
“Nor can its Force, by any, be withstood.
“Till my contending Brothers clearly can
“Produce a Pow'r, more terrible, than Death,
“In vain, they spend their argumentive Breath.
“Despotic, He, o'er this Creation reigns,
“And binds the mighty, in eternal Chains.
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“The proudest Victors to his Triumph yield.
“Think how he stalks, o'er dreadful Conquests made,
“Himself the only Terror unafraid!
“Experience shews my Argument is good,
“Nor can its Force, by any, be withstood.
Here rose a Shout, till gentle Samar spoke:
“I've heard, that Musick into Hell has broke.
“Th' inexorable Gates, before it, wide
“Their Iron Folds, with dreadful Crush, divide:
“The tortur'd Ghosts, by soothing Notes, were eas'd,
“And Fates, and Furies, found themselves appeas'd.
“O'er Death, victorious danc'd the pow'rful Airs,
“And forc'd Obedience to a Poet's Pray'rs.
“I've heard, that Musick into Hell has broke.
“Th' inexorable Gates, before it, wide
“Their Iron Folds, with dreadful Crush, divide:
“The tortur'd Ghosts, by soothing Notes, were eas'd,
“And Fates, and Furies, found themselves appeas'd.
“O'er Death, victorious danc'd the pow'rful Airs,
“And forc'd Obedience to a Poet's Pray'rs.
Others, as Judgment, or, as Fancy, mov'd,
Declar'd their Minds to win the Prize belov'd.
But when Amanah rose, to urge his Claim,
Saphira's Blushes shew'd her inward Flame.
Him most she lov'd, of all the tuneful Throng,
And most she read, tho' secretly, his Song.
Ne'er had her Words her Heart's Desire confest;
She smother'd all the Ardours of her Breast.
The Bard, with equal Passion, inly, glow'd,
And more Confusion, than his Fellows, shew'd.
He answer'd to the Question of the King,
As Love had, oft, inspir'd his Muse to sing.
“Since you, great Judge, vouchsafe a gracious Ear,
“Tho' last I speak, I have no Cause to fear.
“Unbiass'd, you will weigh my Answer's Worth,
“And, as is just, bring your Decision forth.
“That glorious Prize were ill deserv'd by me,
“Did I think, ought, but half so strong, as she,
“Resistless Beauty!—Thus I speak my Sense,
“And, if I fall, I fall in her Defence.
“Woman has Charms, which nothing can compare,
“And, of all Women, she's the fairest Fair.
“In her fine Person, all their Charms are join'd,
“And Myriads more adorn her noble Mind.
Declar'd their Minds to win the Prize belov'd.
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Saphira's Blushes shew'd her inward Flame.
Him most she lov'd, of all the tuneful Throng,
And most she read, tho' secretly, his Song.
Ne'er had her Words her Heart's Desire confest;
She smother'd all the Ardours of her Breast.
The Bard, with equal Passion, inly, glow'd,
And more Confusion, than his Fellows, shew'd.
He answer'd to the Question of the King,
As Love had, oft, inspir'd his Muse to sing.
“Since you, great Judge, vouchsafe a gracious Ear,
“Tho' last I speak, I have no Cause to fear.
“Unbiass'd, you will weigh my Answer's Worth,
“And, as is just, bring your Decision forth.
“That glorious Prize were ill deserv'd by me,
“Did I think, ought, but half so strong, as she,
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“And, if I fall, I fall in her Defence.
“Woman has Charms, which nothing can compare,
“And, of all Women, she's the fairest Fair.
“In her fine Person, all their Charms are join'd,
“And Myriads more adorn her noble Mind.
He said—The Court impatient now remain,
'Till, thus, the King reliev'd the common Pain.
“Let rival Bards no more dispute the Prize,
“Against the Pow'r of bright Saphira's Eyes.
“He merits best, who most her Pow'r conceives,
“Nor greater Strength, in all the World, believes.
“In her, Amanah feels th' united Charms
“Of all her Sex—and who can fly their Arms?
“Beauty has Pow'r, to animate, or kill:
“Love is its Child, and Love's a Conquerour still.
'Till, thus, the King reliev'd the common Pain.
“Let rival Bards no more dispute the Prize,
“Against the Pow'r of bright Saphira's Eyes.
“He merits best, who most her Pow'r conceives,
“Nor greater Strength, in all the World, believes.
“In her, Amanah feels th' united Charms
“Of all her Sex—and who can fly their Arms?
“Beauty has Pow'r, to animate, or kill:
“Love is its Child, and Love's a Conquerour still.
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The Sentence giv'n, the shouting Crowd declar'd,
How much the Royal Wisdom was rever'd:
While, by the Hand, the King Saphira led
To fond Amanah, and divinely, said;
“Take, lucky Rival, and distinguish'd Bard,
“Of Love and Verse, this never match'd Reward.
He, bowing low, his Gratitude exprest,
And She the burning Transports of her Breast.
How much the Royal Wisdom was rever'd:
While, by the Hand, the King Saphira led
To fond Amanah, and divinely, said;
“Take, lucky Rival, and distinguish'd Bard,
“Of Love and Verse, this never match'd Reward.
He, bowing low, his Gratitude exprest,
And She the burning Transports of her Breast.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |