The peripatetic or, Sketches of the heart, of nature and society; In a series of politico-sentimental journals, in verse and prose, of the eccentric excursions of Sylvanus Theophrastus; Supposed to be written by himself [by John Thelwall] |
 | [I]. |
[For here, while Phœbus sheds the radiant beam] |
| II. |
| III. |
 | The peripatetic |  |
204
[For here, while Phœbus sheds the radiant beam]
For here, while Phœbus sheds the radiant beam,
Imperial Thames, with more majestic sweep,
Wafts the fraught vessel o'er a wider stream,
And pours a flood of glory to the deep.
Imperial Thames, with more majestic sweep,
Wafts the fraught vessel o'er a wider stream,
And pours a flood of glory to the deep.
See where, against the horizon's distant bound,
Itself a sea, the wide-spread wave reclines,
While fading hues the mingled scene confound,
Nor wave from sky the sharpen'd ken defines;
Itself a sea, the wide-spread wave reclines,
While fading hues the mingled scene confound,
Nor wave from sky the sharpen'd ken defines;
Save that, slow-rising o'er the liquid plain,
Yon vessels swell imperfect on the sight;
And, as they speed the distant port to gain,
Like flying clouds obstruct the misty light.
Yon vessels swell imperfect on the sight;
And, as they speed the distant port to gain,
Like flying clouds obstruct the misty light.
Majestic sight! But what if Danube's tide,
That rolls from realm to realm with long delay,
Here pour'd along, with more resistless pride,
Thro' seven broad mouths to break his foaming way?
That rolls from realm to realm with long delay,
Here pour'd along, with more resistless pride,
Thro' seven broad mouths to break his foaming way?
Or what if Thought, by Fancy plum'd, should fly
To Oronoko's wide expanded shores?
Or Plata's stream, where not the keenest eye
From the mid-wave the distant bank explores?
To Oronoko's wide expanded shores?
Or Plata's stream, where not the keenest eye
From the mid-wave the distant bank explores?
How shrink, proud Thames, at this tremendous scene
The lesser glories of thy boasted sway!
A nameless brook that cheers the village green,
Thy sea-broad wave unnotic'd glides away.
The lesser glories of thy boasted sway!
A nameless brook that cheers the village green,
Thy sea-broad wave unnotic'd glides away.
But hold, my Muse, nor seek the distant clime
While yet new wonders court thy gaze at home;
Nor, fondly panting for the rude sublime,
Neglect the beauteous scenes thro' which we roam.
While yet new wonders court thy gaze at home;
Nor, fondly panting for the rude sublime,
Neglect the beauteous scenes thro' which we roam.
205
Here from this hill that aids the raptur'd sight,
Where woods, and vales, and cultur'd meadows lie,
Enough is seen to wake the fond delight,
And spread enchantment o'er the poet's eye.
Where woods, and vales, and cultur'd meadows lie,
Enough is seen to wake the fond delight,
And spread enchantment o'er the poet's eye.
This winding road, this grassy margin gay,
That here advances, there again recedes,
Tufted with broom or goss's sober grey,
This neighbouring thicket, and yon distant meads.
That here advances, there again recedes,
Tufted with broom or goss's sober grey,
This neighbouring thicket, and yon distant meads.
Yes, let me here from this embowering shade,
Whence all these scenes come rushing on my view,
Tune my soft shell; and here, enthusiast maid!
The playful themes of early youth renew.
Whence all these scenes come rushing on my view,
Tune my soft shell; and here, enthusiast maid!
The playful themes of early youth renew.
Nor shalt thou, Thames! as slow thy gentle tide
Steals in soft silence to the boundless wave,
Refuse the strain of one who soon shall glide
By lapse as silent to the whelming grave.
Steals in soft silence to the boundless wave,
Refuse the strain of one who soon shall glide
By lapse as silent to the whelming grave.
Yes—like thy waves that to the Ocean flow,
Lost in that vortex to be mark'd no more,
Shall haste the stream that wakes this sentient glow,
Nor leave one trace on Life's deserted shore.
Lost in that vortex to be mark'd no more,
Shall haste the stream that wakes this sentient glow,
Nor leave one trace on Life's deserted shore.
What? not one trace! Shall not, alas! this name,
Which e'en in keen Misfortune's darkest hour
My jealous care preserv'd from envious Shame,
Shall this not 'scape Oblivion's ruthless pow'r?
Which e'en in keen Misfortune's darkest hour
My jealous care preserv'd from envious Shame,
Shall this not 'scape Oblivion's ruthless pow'r?
Ah! no. How vain to feed the fond desire
E'en this lov'd relic from the wreck to save!
In cold neglect shall every hope expire,
And Memory's self shall moulder in the grave.
E'en this lov'd relic from the wreck to save!
In cold neglect shall every hope expire,
And Memory's self shall moulder in the grave.
| The peripatetic | |