Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Around him dance the rosy Hours,
And damasking the Ground with Flow'rs,
With ambient Sweets perfume the Morn:
With shadowy Verdure flourish'd high,
A sudden youth the Groves enjoy;
Where Philomel laments forlorn.

II

By her awak'd, the woodland Choir
To hail the coming God prepares;
And tempts me to resume the Lyre,
Soft warbling to the vernal Airs.
Yet once more, O ye Muses! deign
For me, the meanest of your Train,
Unblam'd t' approach your blest Retreat:
Where Horace wantons at your Spring,
And Pindar sweeps a bolder String;
Whose Notes th' Aonian Hills repeat.

220

III

Or if invok'd, where Thames's fruitful Tides,
Slow thro' the Vale in silver Volumes play;
Now your own Phœbus o'er the Month presides,
Gives Love the Night, and doubly gilds the Day:
Thither, indulgent to my Pray'r,
Ye bright harmonious Nymphs repair,
To swell the Notes I feebly raise:
So with inspiring Ardors warm'd,
May Gower's propitious Ear be charm'd,
To listen to my Lays.

I

Beneath the Pole on Hills of Snow,
Like Thracian Mars, th' undaunted Swede
To Dint of Sword defies the Foe;
In Fight unknowing to recede:
From Volga's Banks, th' imperious Czar
Leads forth his Furry Troops to War;

221

Fond of the softer Southern Sky:
The Soldan gauls th'Illyrian Coast;
But soon the miscreant Moony Host,
Before the Victor-Cross shall fly.

II

But here, no Clarion's shrilling Note
The Muse's green Retreat can pierce;
The Grove, from noisy Camps remote,
Is only Vocal with my Verse:
Here, wing'd with Innocence and Joy,
Let the soft Hours that o'er me fly
Drop Freedom, Health, and gay Desires:
While the bright Sein, t' exalt the Soul,
With sparkling Plenty crowns the Bowl;
And Wit, and social Mirth inspires.

III

Enamour'd of the Sein, celestial Fair,
(The blooming Pride of Thetis' azure Train)

222

Bacchus, to win the Nymph who caus'd his Care,
Lash'd his swift Tigers to the Celtic Plain:
There secret in her Saphire Cell,
He with the Nais wont to dwell;
Leaving the Nectar'd Feasts of Jove:
And where her mazy Waters flow,
He gave the mantling Vine, to grow
A Trophy to his Love.

I

Shall Man from Nature's Sanction stray,
With blind Opinion for his Guide;
And, Rebel to her rightful Sway,
Leave all her Bounties unenjoy'd?
Fool! Time no Change of Motion knows;
With equal Speed the Torrent flows,
To sweep Fame, Pow'r, and Wealth away:
The Past is all by Death possest;
And frugal Fate that guards the rest.
By giving, bids him live, To Day.

223

II

O Gower! thro' all that destin'd Space,
What Breath the Pow'rs allot to me,
Shall sing the Virtues of thy Race
United, and compleat in thee.
O Flow'r of antient English Faith!
Persue th' unbeaten Patriot-Path,
In which confirm'd thy Father shone:
The Light his fair Example gives,
Already from thy Dawn receives
A Lustre, equal to its own.

III

Honour's bright Dome, on lasting Columns rear'd,
Nor Envy rusts, nor rolling Years consume;
Loud Pœans ecchoing round the Roof are hear'd,
And Clouds of Incense all the Void perfume.
There Phocion, Lælius, Capel, Hyde,
With Falkland seated near his side,

224

Fix'd by the Muse the Temple grace:
Prophetic of thy happier Fame.
She, to receive thy radiant Name,
Selects a whiter Space.