 | Poems |  |
65
THE OLD ARM-CHAIR.
AN ODE.
------ “Nay, do not think I flatter;
“For what advancement may I hope from thee
“That no revenue hast.”
Shakespeare.
“For what advancement may I hope from thee
“That no revenue hast.”
Shakespeare.
Cloath'd in a vest of Tyrian dye,
Let Folly woo the garish eye
Of keen observant day;
While I, incircled in thine arms,
Press and enjoy thy ancient charms,
And spurn the hours away.
Let Folly woo the garish eye
Of keen observant day;
While I, incircled in thine arms,
Press and enjoy thy ancient charms,
And spurn the hours away.
How blest the min'stry of a friend,
Who, love-directed, will attend
Thro' this tempestuous sea,
To keep the bark from treason's shore,
As social tempests raging roar;
And such a friend art thee.
Who, love-directed, will attend
Thro' this tempestuous sea,
To keep the bark from treason's shore,
As social tempests raging roar;
And such a friend art thee.
66
By thee sublim'd, wise Bacon saw
The institutes of moral law,
Pourtraying good and ill,
As Science beam'd a cheering ray,
Which warm'd his philosophic day
To liberate the will.
The institutes of moral law,
Pourtraying good and ill,
As Science beam'd a cheering ray,
Which warm'd his philosophic day
To liberate the will.
Inclos'd by thee, the Drama's sire,
Vast Shakespeare smote the silver lyre,
As Nature triumph'd round;
E'en angels left their bright abodes.
And downward cleav'd thro' liquid roads
To listen to the sound.
Vast Shakespeare smote the silver lyre,
As Nature triumph'd round;
E'en angels left their bright abodes.
And downward cleav'd thro' liquid roads
To listen to the sound.
Imperial man! with matchless art
He rov'd the alleys of the heart,
And drew sweet Truth along;
The Passions, manacled in chains,
Obey'd the impulse of his strains,
And sanctify'd his song.
He rov'd the alleys of the heart,
And drew sweet Truth along;
The Passions, manacled in chains,
Obey'd the impulse of his strains,
And sanctify'd his song.
From such a friend, th' Athenian sage
Imbib'd that axiom for his page,
Which pagan virtue taught;
And Newton, happy and resign'd,
Mus'd as he amplify'd his mind,
And realiz'd his thought,
Imbib'd that axiom for his page,
Which pagan virtue taught;
And Newton, happy and resign'd,
Mus'd as he amplify'd his mind,
And realiz'd his thought,
67
Impell'd by such a joy-fraught aid,
Longinus hail'd the sapient maid,
Who holds the bird of night,
Caught all the precepts from her tongue,
Told rising bards how Phœbus sung,
And gave the nations light.
Longinus hail'd the sapient maid,
Who holds the bird of night,
Caught all the precepts from her tongue,
Told rising bards how Phœbus sung,
And gave the nations light.
Reclining 'gainst thy time-worn side,
Luther conceiv'd the mental pride
To make e'en faith his own,
Indignant broke the monkish spell,
Awoke mankind with Reason's bell,
And shook the papal throne.
Luther conceiv'd the mental pride
To make e'en faith his own,
Indignant broke the monkish spell,
Awoke mankind with Reason's bell,
And shook the papal throne.
The Lares, gods of sacred note,
Of whom the Latian minstrels wrote,
When Fraud's high pulse was warm;
But as the star of Bethlem blaz'd,
They fled, diminish'd and amaz'd,
And mingling, made thy form.
Of whom the Latian minstrels wrote,
When Fraud's high pulse was warm;
But as the star of Bethlem blaz'd,
They fled, diminish'd and amaz'd,
And mingling, made thy form.
Alas! the hours are on their way,
When all thy honours must decay,
And sleep at Ruin's shrine,
When worms thy body shall consume;
But shake not; for 'twas Cæsar's doom
And hapless will be thine.
When all thy honours must decay,
And sleep at Ruin's shrine,
When worms thy body shall consume;
But shake not; for 'twas Cæsar's doom
And hapless will be thine.
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