 | Poems |  |
TO AN EMINENT PAINTER.
When the fond mother with a silent joy
Surveys her lovely girl, or rosy boy;
When the kind husband with soft-gazing eye,
The face, that first awak'd the lover's sigh;
When gentle friends, who feel the mutual flame,
Dwell in warm transport on each other's name;
Or nations hail the hero brave and just,
And bless the statesman faithful to his trust;
Say,—what the wish?—ah wish how vain!
That what once charm'd their eye, might charm again;
The smile, the bloom, the rose's blushing dye,
The awe-inspiring front, and dauntless eye,
The nameless charm, that wak'd the young desire,
Stirr'd the bold thought, or rous'd the soul of fire;
That all might ever live, nor time derange
Nature's fair workings with eternal change.
Surveys her lovely girl, or rosy boy;
When the kind husband with soft-gazing eye,
The face, that first awak'd the lover's sigh;
When gentle friends, who feel the mutual flame,
Dwell in warm transport on each other's name;
Or nations hail the hero brave and just,
And bless the statesman faithful to his trust;
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That what once charm'd their eye, might charm again;
The smile, the bloom, the rose's blushing dye,
The awe-inspiring front, and dauntless eye,
The nameless charm, that wak'd the young desire,
Stirr'd the bold thought, or rous'd the soul of fire;
That all might ever live, nor time derange
Nature's fair workings with eternal change.
Yes!—fondness hop'd in vain to trace
The youthful lustre in a wrinkled face;
And what the patriot's, hero's, statesman's lot?
—Their deeds recorded, but the face forgot.
The youthful lustre in a wrinkled face;
And what the patriot's, hero's, statesman's lot?
—Their deeds recorded, but the face forgot.
For, see! how Spring and Summer lead the year,
And Autumn follows close, and Winter drear!
How round the dial shadows steal away,
For ever changing with the changing day!
How on rude ocean, into tempest tost,
Wave follows wave, and is for ever lost!
So pass the years of man; thus swiftly fly
The cheek light-smiling, and the sparkling eye,
The blush of health, and Love's ætherial light,
With all the magic beamings of delight.
The heats of manhood, foul Ambition's rage,
And thirsty Grief, and slow-consuming Age;
All something of the sap of life consume,
Weaken the strength, and wither all the bloom:
Hence sombre tints obscure, what smil'd before,
Till love, and health, and beauty bloom no more.
Till, as the rolling Ganges spreading wide,
Buries the feeble Indian in his tide;
Thus Death, in pity to the driv'ller's pains,
Sweeps to th' oblivious grave his poor remains.
And Autumn follows close, and Winter drear!
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For ever changing with the changing day!
How on rude ocean, into tempest tost,
Wave follows wave, and is for ever lost!
So pass the years of man; thus swiftly fly
The cheek light-smiling, and the sparkling eye,
The blush of health, and Love's ætherial light,
With all the magic beamings of delight.
The heats of manhood, foul Ambition's rage,
And thirsty Grief, and slow-consuming Age;
All something of the sap of life consume,
Weaken the strength, and wither all the bloom:
Hence sombre tints obscure, what smil'd before,
Till love, and health, and beauty bloom no more.
Till, as the rolling Ganges spreading wide,
Buries the feeble Indian in his tide;
Thus Death, in pity to the driv'ller's pains,
Sweeps to th' oblivious grave his poor remains.
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Hail! Grecia, skill'd in art, that art divine,
Which bade the human face again to shine;
Made passion speak, and every feature live,
And gave to Beauty all that Art could give;
Say, what thy triumphs, when in living dye,
Fair Helen roll'd again the melting eye!
When Alexander's form again was seen,
His haughty dignity, and royal mien!
And all thy sages, bards, and heroes brave,
Burst into life, as ransom'd from the grave!
Which bade the human face again to shine;
Made passion speak, and every feature live,
And gave to Beauty all that Art could give;
Say, what thy triumphs, when in living dye,
Fair Helen roll'd again the melting eye!
When Alexander's form again was seen,
His haughty dignity, and royal mien!
And all thy sages, bards, and heroes brave,
Burst into life, as ransom'd from the grave!
—, if sav'd at length from Party's rage,
The deeds of heroes grace th' historic page;
If sage Philosophy, and sacred Song,
Plato's deep sense, and Homer's honey'd tongue;
If Sculpture, such as Phidias' hand could raise,
Command our wonder, and ensure our praise;
Say, shall the Painter's art be less endear'd,
Or, as more pleasing, be the less rever'd?
Shall Zeuxis, who full many a glorious name
Fix'd in the temple of ennobling Fame;
Or, 'mid the task of each revolving day,
Apelles living character pourtray,
And yet themselves amid the vulgar throng
Sleep, unrewarded with the wreath of song?
The Muse forbad—she knew the sister's part,
(For colours fade beyond the reach of art),
She saw, how time destroys what genius rears,
Or fire devours at once the toil of years;
Then, warm with zeal, she struck the living lyre,
Nor let the Painter with his works expire.
The deeds of heroes grace th' historic page;
If sage Philosophy, and sacred Song,
Plato's deep sense, and Homer's honey'd tongue;
If Sculpture, such as Phidias' hand could raise,
Command our wonder, and ensure our praise;
Say, shall the Painter's art be less endear'd,
Or, as more pleasing, be the less rever'd?
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Fix'd in the temple of ennobling Fame;
Or, 'mid the task of each revolving day,
Apelles living character pourtray,
And yet themselves amid the vulgar throng
Sleep, unrewarded with the wreath of song?
The Muse forbad—she knew the sister's part,
(For colours fade beyond the reach of art),
She saw, how time destroys what genius rears,
Or fire devours at once the toil of years;
Then, warm with zeal, she struck the living lyre,
Nor let the Painter with his works expire.
For see! the colours change; see time destroy,
Once more, the lovely girl, the rosy boy,
Love's purple light desert the languid eye,
And Beauty's roseat colours quickly fly!
See the stern hero lose his eye of fire,
And all the sages rev'rend form retire!
Though just proportion mark each flowing line,
Though all the graces own the fair design,
Yet from the canvas shall each charm depart:
So strong is genius, and so frail is art!
Where now the fruit, so swelling on the sight,
That stopp'd the winged songster in his flight?
The curtain, that with finish'd grace pourtray'd,
All the rich subtleties of art convey'd?
The trembling virgin, and her breast of snow,
And the wild parent speechless in his woe?
Th' unrivall'd fair, who, as of heavenly name,
Warm'd every heart, and set the world on flame?
The captiv'd maid, who foil'd the Painter's art,
And fix'd her lovely picture on his heart?
All, all, are fled! and as the Painter dies,
So the bright colour from the canvas flies:
Vanish'd each form; and every fair design
Lives but in numbers, or adorns a coin.
Once more, the lovely girl, the rosy boy,
Love's purple light desert the languid eye,
And Beauty's roseat colours quickly fly!
See the stern hero lose his eye of fire,
And all the sages rev'rend form retire!
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Though all the graces own the fair design,
Yet from the canvas shall each charm depart:
So strong is genius, and so frail is art!
Where now the fruit, so swelling on the sight,
That stopp'd the winged songster in his flight?
The curtain, that with finish'd grace pourtray'd,
All the rich subtleties of art convey'd?
The trembling virgin, and her breast of snow,
And the wild parent speechless in his woe?
Th' unrivall'd fair, who, as of heavenly name,
Warm'd every heart, and set the world on flame?
The captiv'd maid, who foil'd the Painter's art,
And fix'd her lovely picture on his heart?
All, all, are fled! and as the Painter dies,
So the bright colour from the canvas flies:
Vanish'd each form; and every fair design
Lives but in numbers, or adorns a coin.
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Hence should the sister-arts in union move,
The same their honours, and the same their love;
Each see, and feel, as though the Gods inspire,
And give to mortals their immortal fire;
Through air, and earth, and sea, together range,
Mark Nature's steadiest forms, and wildest change;
Extend to future days each glorious name,
And, giving fame to others, challenge fame.
And, while the Painter gives the feature strong,
The Poet lifts the Painter in his song.
The same their honours, and the same their love;
Each see, and feel, as though the Gods inspire,
And give to mortals their immortal fire;
Through air, and earth, and sea, together range,
Mark Nature's steadiest forms, and wildest change;
Extend to future days each glorious name,
And, giving fame to others, challenge fame.
And, while the Painter gives the feature strong,
The Poet lifts the Painter in his song.
Thus Waller sung in Charles's merry reign,
And Vandyck's name adorn'd the courtly strain,
With ready skill he trac'd the pencil'd face,
And from the Painter stole poetic grace.
And thus, enliven'd by the muse's ray,
The critic-poet pour'd his laureat lay;
And, as the royal hero rose to view,
He sung the hero, and the painter too.
His lyre the tuneful Pope to Jervas strung,
And, as the painter felt, the poet sung.
Each struck the chord, that rul'd the other's heart,
Each seiz'd an image from the sister-art;
Ev'n Dryden's prose shall Fresnoy's art prolong,
And Mason make it live in British song.
And Vandyck's name adorn'd the courtly strain,
With ready skill he trac'd the pencil'd face,
And from the Painter stole poetic grace.
And thus, enliven'd by the muse's ray,
The critic-poet pour'd his laureat lay;
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He sung the hero, and the painter too.
His lyre the tuneful Pope to Jervas strung,
And, as the painter felt, the poet sung.
Each struck the chord, that rul'd the other's heart,
Each seiz'd an image from the sister-art;
Ev'n Dryden's prose shall Fresnoy's art prolong,
And Mason make it live in British song.
So, when I view beneath thy powerful art
The speaking feature from the canvas start;
When thy bold colouring spreads the shining hue,
And gives some friend, as living, to the view,
How could I hope,—as long shall be imprest
His generous virtues on some kindred breast,
So to his children might thy skill convey,
—Nor dread the silent stealth of slow decay,—
His steady worth—that curious when they scan
The fair resemblance of the living man,
Read in his face, amid the warmth of youth,
The pride of honour, and the glow of truth;
The kindred passion they within might feel,
Glow with his friendship, catch his patriot zeal;
And conscious, whence they caught the potent flame,
Bless with an honest zeal his artist's name!
The speaking feature from the canvas start;
When thy bold colouring spreads the shining hue,
And gives some friend, as living, to the view,
How could I hope,—as long shall be imprest
His generous virtues on some kindred breast,
So to his children might thy skill convey,
—Nor dread the silent stealth of slow decay,—
His steady worth—that curious when they scan
The fair resemblance of the living man,
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The pride of honour, and the glow of truth;
The kindred passion they within might feel,
Glow with his friendship, catch his patriot zeal;
And conscious, whence they caught the potent flame,
Bless with an honest zeal his artist's name!
For me—well-pleas'd this wreath to thee I twine,
Proud to enroll my humble name with thine.
And should the verse but live beyond a day,
Some youthful genius, kindling at the lay,
Shall feel the proud desire like thee to please,
Catch all thy force, and rival all thy ease,
Ambitious 'mid the formost to excell,
Yet taught, how hard the task, to pencil well.
Proud to enroll my humble name with thine.
And should the verse but live beyond a day,
Some youthful genius, kindling at the lay,
Shall feel the proud desire like thee to please,
Catch all thy force, and rival all thy ease,
Ambitious 'mid the formost to excell,
Yet taught, how hard the task, to pencil well.
| Poems | |