 | Poetical Trifles |  |
81
RETROSPECT.
“------nam quod fuit antè relictum est,
Fit quoque quod haud fuerat, momentaque cuncta novantur.”
Ovid.
Fit quoque quod haud fuerat, momentaque cuncta novantur.”
Ovid.
Delightful 'tis at cooling eve
To seek the shady sylvan spot;
When rankling cares the bosom leave,
When grief's forgot.
To seek the shady sylvan spot;
When rankling cares the bosom leave,
When grief's forgot.
There undisturb'd, to freely think
Of joyous moments vanish'd by;
And calmly look to childhood's brink,
Soft heaves the sigh!
Of joyous moments vanish'd by;
And calmly look to childhood's brink,
Soft heaves the sigh!
Association's mystic chain,
In unison connects each scene:
While Mem'ry, with her lovely train,
Will flit between.
In unison connects each scene:
While Mem'ry, with her lovely train,
Will flit between.
82
How boundless is gay Fancy's power,
That paints in vivid colours bright!
That makes the past, the present hour,
A mental light.
That paints in vivid colours bright!
That makes the past, the present hour,
A mental light.
A sea of vision seems display'd,
Too wide almost for thought to span:
The mind in soft repose array'd,
Admires the plan.
Too wide almost for thought to span:
The mind in soft repose array'd,
Admires the plan.
Then happy he! whom no crime haunts,
Whose conscience bears no guilty stain;
Whose brain no dizzy phantom flaunts
With madd'ning pain.
Whose conscience bears no guilty stain;
Whose brain no dizzy phantom flaunts
With madd'ning pain.
Retrospect! how compos'd and sweet
Art thou to calm unruffl'd souls;
What airy forms thy region fleet!
No sorrow scowls.
Art thou to calm unruffl'd souls;
What airy forms thy region fleet!
No sorrow scowls.
83
Recording art repairs the past,
And echoes back each virtuous deed;
The glow of feeling still will last,
Though the heart bleed.
And echoes back each virtuous deed;
The glow of feeling still will last,
Though the heart bleed.
The child of poverty's chill lot,
That shar'd from silent bounty's hand;
Shall ne'er by respite be forgot,
While records stand.
That shar'd from silent bounty's hand;
Shall ne'er by respite be forgot,
While records stand.
Should friends be gone, who once were lov'd,
Dear as the heart that throbs the breast;
Retrospect speaks the charm they prov'd,
Though sunk to rest.
Dear as the heart that throbs the breast;
Retrospect speaks the charm they prov'd,
Though sunk to rest.
The halcyon hours of thrilling joy
That throng'd the blushing dawn of youth,
Shall oft the kindred bosom cloy
With scenes of truth.
That throng'd the blushing dawn of youth,
Shall oft the kindred bosom cloy
With scenes of truth.
84
Does some fond parent breathless lie
Mouldering in the darken'd tomb?
Will not Retrospect gently try
To chase the gloom?
Mouldering in the darken'd tomb?
Will not Retrospect gently try
To chase the gloom?
Art thou an orphan 'reft of all,
Of all that stills the storms of fate?
Then Retrospect her spell will call,
And soothing wait.
Of all that stills the storms of fate?
Then Retrospect her spell will call,
And soothing wait.
Once more thou'lt haunt rich scenes of bliss,
Those scenes of former days, now flown;
All that can ease a state like this,
Will be thine own.
Those scenes of former days, now flown;
All that can ease a state like this,
Will be thine own.
Has mis'ry been thy destine fell,
And rak'd with grief the smiling soil?
Retrospect e'en can anguish quell,
And smooth its toil.
And rak'd with grief the smiling soil?
Retrospect e'en can anguish quell,
And smooth its toil.
85
'Tis sweet to think of sorrows gone,
And count the hours we've spent in grief;
'Tis sweet when fancy urges on,
And yields relief.
And count the hours we've spent in grief;
'Tis sweet when fancy urges on,
And yields relief.
When conscience harrows not the mind,
That muses o'er past sickly woe:
A gentle stream of thought refin'd
The soul will flow.
That muses o'er past sickly woe:
A gentle stream of thought refin'd
The soul will flow.
The pallid fear of trembling ills,
That once so rack'd the shatter'd frame;
In Retrospect, with no pang thrills
The bosom tame.
That once so rack'd the shatter'd frame;
In Retrospect, with no pang thrills
The bosom tame.
Did Beauty with her witching form,
Permit thee languish day by day?
Did Passion's throes thy heart alarm,
And melt away?
Permit thee languish day by day?
Did Passion's throes thy heart alarm,
And melt away?
86
Has Love thy fondest wishes cross'd,
And marr'd thy fancied, choice delight?
Has thy warm heart been ic'd with frost,
And left to blight?
And marr'd thy fancied, choice delight?
Has thy warm heart been ic'd with frost,
And left to blight?
Did she who vow'd to live for thee,
Nor heave a sigh that breath'd not love,
From each dear promise ruthless flee,
And guileful prove?
Nor heave a sigh that breath'd not love,
From each dear promise ruthless flee,
And guileful prove?
Then, Retrospect will rend thee wise,
And still the light impassion'd thought;
Will teach thee to contemn those sighs,
With treach'ry fraught.
And still the light impassion'd thought;
Will teach thee to contemn those sighs,
With treach'ry fraught.
Thou'lt know that woman's light as air,
To apt to please and smile untrue;
That 'mid her charms true love is rare,
And felt by few.
To apt to please and smile untrue;
That 'mid her charms true love is rare,
And felt by few.
87
Hast thou seen the golden bee,
That flying, sips the honied sweets?
From blushing flower, to verdant tree,
The light wing beats.
That flying, sips the honied sweets?
From blushing flower, to verdant tree,
The light wing beats.
Thus, woman will unfeeling waste
The essence of man's warmer heart;
Then thoughtless from her victim haste,
And cruel part.
The essence of man's warmer heart;
Then thoughtless from her victim haste,
And cruel part.
And should thy lot have felt the beam
Unfading shine from cloudless sun;
Still Retrospect will grateful seem,
While time shall run.
Unfading shine from cloudless sun;
Still Retrospect will grateful seem,
While time shall run.
The bliss of life is felt when fled,
By those whose virtues gild their name;
'Till in the grave they lay their head,
They feel its flame.
By those whose virtues gild their name;
'Till in the grave they lay their head,
They feel its flame.
88
Retrospect to the good, is blest
By all the milder dreams that please;
The weary heart 'twill lull to rest,
Oft woe appease.
By all the milder dreams that please;
The weary heart 'twill lull to rest,
Oft woe appease.
But he, who e'er recoiling shrinks,
Nor bravely dares the past unroll;
Who ne'er retires and calmly thinks,
How fares his soul!
Nor bravely dares the past unroll;
Who ne'er retires and calmly thinks,
How fares his soul!
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