Poems to Thespia :: :: University of Virginia Library

Happy the Few, who in retirement find
Those sweet delights which shun tumultuous noise!
Who feast on pleasures suited to their mind,
And barter idle shew, for solid joys!

Far from the city, and it's revelers gay,
To shades and bubbling springs, Love takes his flight;
He hates the scenes of their fantastic day,
And long-protracted vigils of their night.

In crouded towns, how rarely virtue dwells!
How seldom is the genuine muse carest!
They range the untainted lawns, and rural dells,
Adorn the maid, or fire her shepherd's breast.

And are we doom'd to this abhorr'd abode?
Forbid, again to breathe serener air?
To stray, as erst, along the secret road,
Untrod by vice, by vanity, and care?

Here avarice sits; there, bursting reason's mound,
Impertinence rolls on her giddy tide;
With thoughtless mirth the lofty domes resound,
The streets reflect the garish rays of pride.

Should we a moment wish the din to cease,
Would I, my Thespia, frame the soothing lay,
Some worthless visitors disturb our peace,
And force the alluring images away.

Friendship their idle bosoms never graced,
Not to it's finer voice their nerves are strung,
Scandal and folly regulate their taste,
And prompt the quick vibrations of their tongue.

Who, bred in cities, view the lovely beam
Fresh darted from the morn's expanding eye?
Till noon the fair indulge their slothful dream,
Wake to complain, and breathe the languid sigh.

The important hours are then resign'd to dress,
The fancied form of elegance is near;
But she, far other minds intent to bless,
Seeks with simplicity a different sphere.

In trifling parties, evening's ear is cloy'd
With mingled converse which no sense can hit;
Each theme exhausted, cards supply the void,
Poor parti-colour'd emblems of their wit.

Impell'd by vanity, they seek the dance,
Their hair new-modell'd, or their vesture new;
With hearts unfeeling toward the stage advance,
To pity deaf, to self-love only true.

Or turn'd enthusiasts, music's charms admire;
How sweetly rapt on it's harmonious wings!
Yet, no delight it's tenderest notes inspire,
Then pleased alone, when straining discord sings.

With such as these will faithful Love remain?
Whate'er the whispering coxcomb may protest?
Their forms, their souls, surveying with disdain,
To pomp and avarice He resigns their breast.

Loathing it's shape, how shall I vice describe?
What terrors will it's hideous aspect raise?
Thy mind will shrink from it's detested tribe,
Nor dare behold them painted in my lays.

Here, for the unwary, craft inweaves his snares,
Honour's just trophies envy's force o'erturns,
Seduction his enticing baits prepares,
And with unhallow'd flames the matron burns.

Led by example, all her charms displaced
By education, (though her will she hides)
From fear, from interest, is the virgin chaste,
While through her veins the subtile poison glides.

Intemperate riot now his orgies holds,
See, abject treachery e'en his friend betray!
The flatterer here his base deceptions moulds,
And there the nightly robber prowls for prey.

And must we ever with these inmates dwell?
Must we perforce these odious mansions choose?
Can we ne'er break pernicious custom's spell?
Oh! form'd for love, for virtue, and the muse?

Form'd with the warmest, best, sincerest heart?
Form'd to perceive, to act by judgment's light?
Form'd with the purest taste, unsoil'd by art,
To urge swift Fancy on, or check her flight?

No, let Us vow, when that auspicious hour,
Expected long, together joins our fate,
To seek with Nature her congenial bower,
Remote from envy, tumult, and debate.

Or, should our chains be too severely bound,
That no contagious atoms may infest,
With strictest watch to guard our doors around,
And thus inclosed, escape the dangerous pest.

Meanwhile O light-plumed youth, haste not away!
Veil not the enchanting ardour of thy face;
Let thy eyes glistening dart the vivid ray,
With transport speak, and move with native grace.

Ah! much I fear, e'er that auspicious hour,
No more thy bloom soft-mantling will be seen,
Fading, as shrink before the solar power
May's fragrant blossoms, and her cheerful green.

With thee must joy, must smiling love retreat?
Shall the quick stream which warms the heart, be cold?
Shall sensibility desert her seat?
And fancy's radiant visions, clouds infold?

Shall innocence no more her blush bestow?
Tender humanity, the pitying sigh?
No more enraptured, shall the spirits flow
At honour's call? To us shall virtue die?

Forbid it all ye powers, whose bounteous hands
Our soul-connecting wreathe at first intwined!
Let us rejoin your unpolluted bands,
And leave the infected city far behind.

Still, still awhile retard the wings of youth!
Give us retirement's genuine bliss to share!
Let mutual faith, sincerity, and truth,
The blameless muse, and ardent love be there!