[Poems by Barlow in] Life and Letters of Joel Barlow ... | ||
5
To a Young Lady
Go, Rose, my Chloe's bosom grace!
How happy should I prove,
Might I supply that envied place
With never fading love;
There, Phœnix-like, beneath her eye,
Involved in fragrance, burn and die.
How happy should I prove,
Might I supply that envied place
With never fading love;
There, Phœnix-like, beneath her eye,
Involved in fragrance, burn and die.
Know, hapless flower, that thou shalt find
More fragrant roses there;
I see thy withering head reclined
With envy and despair:
One common fate we both must prove—
You die with envy, I with love.
More fragrant roses there;
I see thy withering head reclined
With envy and despair:
One common fate we both must prove—
You die with envy, I with love.
29
[While scenes of transport every heart inspire]
While scenes of transport every heart inspire,
The Muse, too, triumphs in her kindling fire.
Blest in their bliss, she lifts a bolder wing,
Aids every wish and tunes the harp to sing;
To their glad concert wakes the accordant strain
And mingles with the music of the plain.
The Muse, too, triumphs in her kindling fire.
Blest in their bliss, she lifts a bolder wing,
Aids every wish and tunes the harp to sing;
To their glad concert wakes the accordant strain
And mingles with the music of the plain.
‘Joy to the Bands,’ her voice arose,
‘Who chained that veteran host of foes;
Who bade Britannia's glory fade
And placed the wreath on fair Columbia's head.’
‘Who chained that veteran host of foes;
Who bade Britannia's glory fade
And placed the wreath on fair Columbia's head.’
30
‘Hail the day and mark it well:
Then the scourge of Freedom fell,
Then your dawning glory shone,—
Mark it, Freeman! 'tis your own.
Then the scourge of Freedom fell,
Then your dawning glory shone,—
Mark it, Freeman! 'tis your own.
‘Now recount your toils with pleasure,
View the strife and sum the treasure;
Run the battles o'er again,
Sound the charge and sweep the plain;
Here behold the foe pursuing—
How he drives his headlong way,
Whelming towns and realms in ruin,
Sure to seize the distant prey.
False and faithless tribes adore him,
Join the shout and yield him room.
Now, Albania, fall before him—
Now, Rebellion, learn your doom.’
View the strife and sum the treasure;
Run the battles o'er again,
Sound the charge and sweep the plain;
Here behold the foe pursuing—
How he drives his headlong way,
Whelming towns and realms in ruin,
Sure to seize the distant prey.
False and faithless tribes adore him,
Join the shout and yield him room.
Now, Albania, fall before him—
Now, Rebellion, learn your doom.’
[The concluding stanza is as follows:]
Then every glad blessing thy country can lend
When her foes and her slaughters shall cease,
Shall arise to the Hero who bade her ascend
To conquest, to glory, and peace.
When her foes and her slaughters shall cease,
Shall arise to the Hero who bade her ascend
To conquest, to glory, and peace.
191
[Could youth, could innocence, could virtue save]
Could youth, could innocence, could virtue save,Our Charlotte sure had found a later grave.
But, hapless mother, cease: your tears but show
The poor scant measure of our common woe.
Ah! cease that vulgar grief: a tribute find
More just, more worthy her exalted mind.
Resume the virtues that you planted there,
Reclaim that merit none with you can share;
Reclaim her force of thought, her vermeil hue,
Your friends demand her promised life in you.
292
[Blest Hymen, hail that memorable day]
Blest Hymen, hail that memorable day
Whose twelfth return my constant bosom warms,
Whose morning rose with promised pleasure gay,
Whose faithful evening gave me Delia's charms—
Those charms that still, with ever new delight,
Assuage and feed the flames of young desire,
Whose magic powers can temper and unite
The husband's friendship with the lover's fire.
Whose twelfth return my constant bosom warms,
Whose morning rose with promised pleasure gay,
Whose faithful evening gave me Delia's charms—
Those charms that still, with ever new delight,
Assuage and feed the flames of young desire,
Whose magic powers can temper and unite
The husband's friendship with the lover's fire.
Say, gentle god, if e'er thy torch before
Illum'ed the altar for so pure a pair?
If e'er approached thy consecrated bower
A swain so grateful, so divine a fair?
Illum'ed the altar for so pure a pair?
If e'er approached thy consecrated bower
A swain so grateful, so divine a fair?
Love, the delusive Power who often flies
Submissive souls that yield to thy decree,
Charmed with our lasting flame, approves the ties,
Folds his white wings, and shares his throne with thee.
Submissive souls that yield to thy decree,
293
Folds his white wings, and shares his throne with thee.
United Sovereigns! hear my fervent prayer,
Extend through life your undivided sway,
In love and union bless your suppliant pair
With many a sweet return of this delightful day.
Extend through life your undivided sway,
In love and union bless your suppliant pair
With many a sweet return of this delightful day.
[If nineteen years of marriage ties]
If nineteen years of marriage ties
Can make me love so strong,
Pray tell how high the flame will rise
When nourished twice as long.
Can make me love so strong,
Pray tell how high the flame will rise
When nourished twice as long.
For nourishment, like what you give,
So sweet, so wholesome too,
Will bid the torch forever live,
And live alone for you.
So sweet, so wholesome too,
Will bid the torch forever live,
And live alone for you.
[My foolish rhymes on wedding days]
My foolish rhymes on wedding days
I thought would make you vain,
Or Love would sicken of his lays
And ask them back again.
I thought would make you vain,
Or Love would sicken of his lays
And ask them back again.
“But little prospect now appears
That aught our souls can sever,
Since after Hymen's twenty years
I love you more than ever.
That aught our souls can sever,
Since after Hymen's twenty years
I love you more than ever.
[If seven long years of laboring life]
If seven long years of laboring lifeOld Jacob served to gain a wife,
She doubtless must have been the best,
The rarest beauty of the East—
For sure the sire of Jews had strove
To have his pennyworth even in love.
But thrice seven suns have passed the line
Since I have laboring been for mine,
And I'm expert at bargains too—
A Yankee blade, though not a Jew—
Which proves, unless I judge amiss,
My wife is thrice as good as his.
One thing I certainly can tell,
I always love her thrice as well.
294
[The ruffian of England with equal remorse]
The ruffian of England with equal remorseCuts the head from his king and the tail from his horse;
The Frenchman, more polished, lets nature prevail,
Lets the king wear his head and the horse wear his tail.
[Ah, where's my dear Hubby, whom Fate, in its malice]
Wife.—Ah, where's my dear Hubby, whom Fate, in its malice,
Snatched away long ago.
Toot.—
Now, I'll bet he's at Calais.
Wife.
—I'll bet he's not, though. But, Tooty, my dear,
Suppose him at Calais, when think he'll be here?
Toot.
—Be here! let us count. This is Thursday you say,
His passport and baggage will take the whole day;
Then other vexations fall in by the hundred—
Surrounded, examined, palavered, and plundered.
But he'll set off to-morrow, and then, I divine,
We shall have him next Sunday between us to dine;
For he'll whirl along rapidly through the relays,
Cheek by jowl with Machere, and in Parker's post-chaise.
Wife.
—All that's but a fancy. I'll bet what you dare
He's not here on Sunday, nor is he now there.
Toot.
—I'll hold you ten guineas, and sixpence to boot.
Wife.
—Done.
Toot.—
Done, here's my hand for't.
Hub.—
I'll go halves with Toot.
[Poems by Barlow in] Life and Letters of Joel Barlow ... | ||