Poems on Several Occasions

Byles, Mather (1707-1788)

[epigraph]

[section]

The Almighty Conqueror.

The GOD of Tempest.

The Complaint and the Consolation.

The Altogether Lovely.

The Comparison, the Choice, and the Enjoyment.

On a very profane Compliment in a noble and devout Poem.

HYMN to CHRIST for our Regeneration and Resurrection.

GOLIAH'S Defeat. In the Manner of Lucan.

ODE, for Palatine Tune.

Written in Milton's PARADISE LOST.

To the Memory of a young Commander slain in a Battle with the Indians, 1724.

Written in Dr. Watt's Poems; given to a young Lady.

An Elegy address'd to His Excellency Governour BELCHER: On the Death of his Brother-in-Law, the Honourable Daniel Oliver, Esq;

To a Friend, on the Death of a Relative.

Hymn at Sea.

To an ingenious young Gentleman, on his dedicating a Poem to the Author.

The Bloom of Life, fading in a happy Death.

A Poem on the Death of King George I. And Accession of King George II.

To His Excellency Governour Burnet, on his Arrival at Boston.

To His Excellency Governour BELCHER, on the Death of His LADY.

To Pollio, on his preparing for the Press a Treatise against the Romish Church.

On the Death of the Queen.

To the Reverend Dr. WATTS, on his Divine POEMS.

To Pictorio, on the Sight of his Pictures.

EPITAPH.

The following Epigram was written upon a Pile of Building, erected in Paris by Louis XIVth after the Peace with Queen Anne.

The Conflagration.

ETERNITY.

Added by a Friend, upon reading the foregoing.

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

To Pictorio, on the Sight of his Pictures.

Ages our Land a barbarous Desart stood,
And savage Nations howl'd in ev'ry Wood;
No laurel'd Art o'er the rude Region smil'd,
Nor bless'd Religion dawn'd amidst the Wild;
Dulness and Tyranny confederate reign'd,
And Ignorance her gloomy State maintain'd.

An hundred Journies now the Earth has run,
In annual Circles, round the central Sun,
Since the first Ship the unpolish'd Letters bore
Thro' the wide Ocean to the barb'rous Shore.
Then Infant-Science made it's early Proof,
Honest, sincere, tho' unadorn'd, and rough;
Still thro' a Cloud the rugged Stranger shone,
Politeness, and the softer Arts unknown:

No heavenly Pencil the free Stroke could give,
Nor the warm Canvass felt its Colours live.
No moving Rhet'rick rais'd the ravish'd Soul,
Flourish'd in Flames, or heard it's Thunder roll;
Rough horrid Verse, harsh, grated thro' the Ear,
And jarring Discords tore the tortur'd Air;
Solid, and grave, and plain the Country stood,
Inelegant, and rigorously good.

Each Year, succeeding, the rude Rust devours,
And softer Arts lead on the following Hours;
The tuneful Nine begin to touch the Lyre,
And flowing Pencils light the living Fire;
In the fair Page new Beauties learn to shine,
The Thoughts to brighten, and the Style refine,
Till the great Year the finish'd Period brought;
Pictorio painted, and Mæcenas wrote.

Thy Fame, Pictorio, shall the Muse rehearse,
And sing her Sister-Art in softer Verse:
'Tis your's, great Master, in just Lines to trace
The rising Prospect, or the lovely Face.

In the fair Round to swell the glowing Cheek,
Give Thought to Shades, and teach the Paints to speak.
Touch'd by thy Hand, how Sylvia's Charms engage!
And Flavia's Features smile thro' ev'ry Age.
In Clio's Face, th' attentive Gazer spies
Minerva's reasoning Brow, and azure Eyes,
Thy Blush, Belinda, future Hearts shall warm,
And Celia shine in Citherea's Form.
In hoary Majesty, see Cato here;
Fix'd strong in Thought, there Newton's Lines appear;
Here in full Beauty blooms the charming Maid;
Here Roman Ruins nod their awful Head;
Here gloting Monks their am'rous Rights debate,
The Italian Master sits in easy State,
Vandike and Rubens show their rival Forms,
And Cæsar flashes in the Blaze of Arms.

But cease, fond Muse, nor the rude Lays prolong,
A thousand Wonders must remain unsung;

Crowds of new Beings lift their wond'ring Heads,
In conscious Forms, and animated Shades.
What Sounds can speak, to ev'ry Figure just,
The breathing Statue, and the living Bust?
Landskips how gay! arise in ev'ry Light,
And fresh Creations rush upon the Sight;
Thro' fairy Scenes the roving Fancy strays,
Lost in the endless, visionary Maze.

Still, wondrous Artist, let thy Pencil flow,
Still, warm with Life, thy blended Colours glow,
Raise the ripe Blush, bid the quick Eye-balls roll
And call forth every Passion of the Soul.
Let thy soft Shades in mimick Figures play,
Steal on the Heart, and catch the Mind away.
Yet Painter, on the kindred Muse attend,
The Poet ever proves the Painter's Friend.
In the same Studies Nature we pursue,
I the Description touch, the Picture you;
The same gay Scenes our beauteous Works adorn,
The purple Ev'ning, or the flamy Morn:

Now, with bold Hand, we strike the strong Design;
Mature in Thought, now soften every Line;
Now, unrestrain'd, in freer Airs surprize,
And sudden, at our Word, new World's arise.
In gen'rous Passion let our Breasts conspire,
As is the Fancy's, be the Friendship's Fire;
Alike our Labour, and alike our Flame:
'Tis thine to raise the Shape; 'tis mine to fix the Name.

University of Virginia Library

To Pictorio, on the Sight of his Pictures.