Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock Together with an Essay on the Education of the Blind. To Which is Prefixed A New Account of the Life and Writings of the Author |
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PHILANTHES:
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock |  |
93
PHILANTHES:
A MONODY.
Inscribed to Miss D---y H---y;
[_]
Occasioned by a series of interesting Events which happened at Dumfries on Friday, June 12, 1752, particularly that of her Father's death.
Quis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus
Tam chari capitis? Præcipe lugubres
Cantus Melpomene, cui liquidam pater
Vocem cum cithara dedit.
Tam chari capitis? Præcipe lugubres
Cantus Melpomene, cui liquidam pater
Vocem cum cithara dedit.
Horat.
94
ARGUMENT.
The subject proposed.—Address to Miss H---y.—General reflections inspir'd by the subject, and previous to it.—The scene opens with a prospect of Mrs. M---n's funeral solemnity: and changes to the untimely fate of a beautiful youth, son to Mr J---s H---ll, whose early genius, quick progress in learning, and gentle dispositions, inspired his friends with the highest expectations of his riper attainments.—Transition to the death of Dr. J---s H---y Physician: his character as such: the general sorrow occasioned by his fate: his character as a friend, as particularly qualified to sooth distress; as a gentleman; as an husband; as a father: his loss considered in all these relations, particularly as sustained by Miss H---y: her tender care of him during his sickness described.—The piece concludes with an apotheosis, in imitation of Virgil's Daphnis.
I.
A Swain, whose soul the tuneful nine inflame,
As to his western goal the sun declin'd,
Sung to the list'ning shades no common theme;
While the hoarse breathings of the hollow wind,
And deep resounding surge in concert join'd.
Deep was the surge, and deep the plaintive song,
While all the solemn scene in mute attention hung.
As to his western goal the sun declin'd,
Sung to the list'ning shades no common theme;
While the hoarse breathings of the hollow wind,
And deep resounding surge in concert join'd.
Deep was the surge, and deep the plaintive song,
While all the solemn scene in mute attention hung.
95
Nor thou, fair victim of so just a woe!
Tho' still the pangs of nature swell thy heart,
Disdain the faithful muse; whose numbers flow
Sacred, alas! to sympathetic smart:
For in thy griefs the muses claim a part;
'Tis all they can, in social tears to mourn,
And deck with cypress wreaths thy dear paternal urn.
Tho' still the pangs of nature swell thy heart,
Disdain the faithful muse; whose numbers flow
Sacred, alas! to sympathetic smart:
For in thy griefs the muses claim a part;
'Tis all they can, in social tears to mourn,
And deck with cypress wreaths thy dear paternal urn.
The swain began, while conscious echoes round
Protract to sadder length his doleful lay.
Roll on, ye streams, in cadence more profound:
Ye humid vapours, veil the face of day:
O'er all the mournful plain
Let night and sorrow reign:
For Pan indignant from his fields retires,
Once haunts of gay delight;
Now every sense they fright,
Resound with shrieks of woe, and blaze with fun'ral fires.
Protract to sadder length his doleful lay.
Roll on, ye streams, in cadence more profound:
Ye humid vapours, veil the face of day:
O'er all the mournful plain
Let night and sorrow reign:
For Pan indignant from his fields retires,
Once haunts of gay delight;
Now every sense they fright,
Resound with shrieks of woe, and blaze with fun'ral fires.
II.
What tho' the radiant sun and clement sky
Alternate warmth and show'rs dispense below;
Tho' spring presages to the careful eye,
That autumn copious with her fruits shall glow?
For us in vain her choicest blessings flow:
To ease the bleeding heart, alas! in vain
Rich swells the purple grape, or waves the golden grain.
Alternate warmth and show'rs dispense below;
Tho' spring presages to the careful eye,
That autumn copious with her fruits shall glow?
For us in vain her choicest blessings flow:
To ease the bleeding heart, alas! in vain
Rich swells the purple grape, or waves the golden grain.
96
What summer-breeze, on swiftest pinions borne,
From fate's relentless hand its prey can save?
What sun in death's dark regions wake the morn,
Or warm the cold recesses of the grave?
Ah wretched man: whose breast scarce learns to heave
With kindling life; when, ere thy bud is blown,
Eternal winter breathes, and all its sweets are gone.
From fate's relentless hand its prey can save?
What sun in death's dark regions wake the morn,
Or warm the cold recesses of the grave?
Ah wretched man: whose breast scarce learns to heave
With kindling life; when, ere thy bud is blown,
Eternal winter breathes, and all its sweets are gone.
Thou all-enlivening flame, intensely bright!
Whose sacred beams illume each wand'ring sphere,
That thro' high heav'n reflects thy trembling light,
Conducting round this globe the varied year;
As thou pursu'st thy way,
Let this revolving day,
Deep-ting'd with conscious gloom, roll slow along:
In sable pomp array'd,
Let night diffuse her shade,
Nor sport the chearless hind, nor chant the vocal throng.
Whose sacred beams illume each wand'ring sphere,
That thro' high heav'n reflects thy trembling light,
Conducting round this globe the varied year;
As thou pursu'st thy way,
Let this revolving day,
Deep-ting'd with conscious gloom, roll slow along:
In sable pomp array'd,
Let night diffuse her shade,
Nor sport the chearless hind, nor chant the vocal throng.
III.
Scarce, from the ardor of the mid-day gleam,
Had languid nature in the cool respir'd;
Scarce, by the margin of the silver stream,
Faint sung the birds in verdant shades retir'd;
Scarce, o'er the thirsty field with sun-shine fir'd,
Had ev'ning gales the sportive wing essay'd,
When sounds of hopeless woe the silent scene invade.
Had languid nature in the cool respir'd;
Scarce, by the margin of the silver stream,
Faint sung the birds in verdant shades retir'd;
Scarce, o'er the thirsty field with sun-shine fir'd,
Had ev'ning gales the sportive wing essay'd,
When sounds of hopeless woe the silent scene invade.
97
Sophronia, long for ev'ry virtue dear
That grac'd the wife, the mother, or the friend,
Depriv'd of life, now press'd the mournful bier,
In sad procession to the tomb sustain'd.
Ah me! in vain to heav'n and earth complain'd
With tender cries her num'rous orphan train;
The tears of wedded love profuse were shed in vain.
That grac'd the wife, the mother, or the friend,
Depriv'd of life, now press'd the mournful bier,
In sad procession to the tomb sustain'd.
Ah me! in vain to heav'n and earth complain'd
With tender cries her num'rous orphan train;
The tears of wedded love profuse were shed in vain.
For her, was grief on ev'ry face impress'd;
For her, each bosom heav'd with tender sighs:
An husband late with all her virtues bless'd,
And weeping race in sad ideas rise:
For her depress'd and pale,
Your charms, ye Graces, veil.
Whom to adorn was once your chief delight:
Ye virtues all deplore
Your image, now no more,
And Hymen quench thy torch in tears and endless night.
For her, each bosom heav'd with tender sighs:
An husband late with all her virtues bless'd,
And weeping race in sad ideas rise:
For her depress'd and pale,
Your charms, ye Graces, veil.
Whom to adorn was once your chief delight:
Ye virtues all deplore
Your image, now no more,
And Hymen quench thy torch in tears and endless night.
IV.
Nor yet these dismal prospects disappear,
When o'er the weeping plain new horrors rise,
And louder accents pierce each frighted ear,
Accents of grief imbitter'd by surprise!
Frantic with woe, at once the tumult flies,
To snatch Adonis wash'd along the stream,
And all th' extended bank re-echoes to his name.
When o'er the weeping plain new horrors rise,
And louder accents pierce each frighted ear,
Accents of grief imbitter'd by surprise!
Frantic with woe, at once the tumult flies,
To snatch Adonis wash'd along the stream,
And all th' extended bank re-echoes to his name.
98
Rang'd on the brink the weeping matrons stand,
The lovely wreck of fortune to survey,
While o'er the flood he wav'd his beauteous hand,
Or in convulsive anguish struggling lay.
By slow degrees they view'd his force decay,
In fruitless efforts to regain the shore:
They view'd and mourn'd his fate: O heaven! they could no more.
The lovely wreck of fortune to survey,
While o'er the flood he wav'd his beauteous hand,
Or in convulsive anguish struggling lay.
By slow degrees they view'd his force decay,
In fruitless efforts to regain the shore:
They view'd and mourn'd his fate: O heaven! they could no more.
Ye Naiads, guardians of the fatal flood,
Was beauty, sweetness, youth, no more your care?
For beauty, sweetness, youth, your pity woo'd,
Pow'rful to charm, if fate could learn to spare.
Stretch'd on cold earth he lies;
While, in his closing eyes,
No more the heav'n-illumin'd lustre shines;
His cheek, once nature's pride,
With blooming roses dy'd,
To unrelenting fate its op'ning blush resigns.
Was beauty, sweetness, youth, no more your care?
For beauty, sweetness, youth, your pity woo'd,
Pow'rful to charm, if fate could learn to spare.
Stretch'd on cold earth he lies;
While, in his closing eyes,
No more the heav'n-illumin'd lustre shines;
His cheek, once nature's pride,
With blooming roses dy'd,
To unrelenting fate its op'ning blush resigns.
V.
Dear hapless youth! what felt thy mother's heart,
When in her view thy lifeless form was laid?
Such anguish when the soul and body part,
Such agonizing pangs the frame invade.
Was there no hand, she cry'd, my child to aid?
Could heav'n and earth unmov'd his fall survey,
Nor from th' insatiate waves redeem their lovely prey?
When in her view thy lifeless form was laid?
Such anguish when the soul and body part,
Such agonizing pangs the frame invade.
Was there no hand, she cry'd, my child to aid?
Could heav'n and earth unmov'd his fall survey,
Nor from th' insatiate waves redeem their lovely prey?
99
Did I for this my tend'rest cares employ,
To nourish and improve thy early bloom?
Are all my rising hopes, my promis'd joy,
Extinct in death's inexorable gloom?
No more shall life those faded charms relume,
Dear rip'ning sweetness! sunk no more to rise!
Thee nature mourns, like me, with fond maternal eyes.
To nourish and improve thy early bloom?
Are all my rising hopes, my promis'd joy,
Extinct in death's inexorable gloom?
No more shall life those faded charms relume,
Dear rip'ning sweetness! sunk no more to rise!
Thee nature mourns, like me, with fond maternal eyes.
Fortune and life, your gifts how insecure!
How fair you promise! but how ill perform!
Like tender fruit, they perish premature,
Scorch'd by the beam, or whelm'd beneath the storm.
For thee a fate more kind,
Thy mother's hopes assign'd,
Than thus to sink in early youth deplor'd:
But late thou fled'st my sight,
Thy parent's dear delight!
And art thou to my arms, ah! art thou thus restor'd?
How fair you promise! but how ill perform!
Like tender fruit, they perish premature,
Scorch'd by the beam, or whelm'd beneath the storm.
For thee a fate more kind,
Thy mother's hopes assign'd,
Than thus to sink in early youth deplor'd:
But late thou fled'st my sight,
Thy parent's dear delight!
And art thou to my arms, ah! art thou thus restor'd?
VI.
Severe these ills; yet heavier still impend,
That wound with livelier grief the smarting soul:
As, ere the long-collected storm descend,
Red lightnings flash, and thunder shakes the pole;
Portentous, solemn, loud its murmurs roll:
While from the subject field the trembling hind
Views instant ruin threat the labours of mankind.
That wound with livelier grief the smarting soul:
As, ere the long-collected storm descend,
Red lightnings flash, and thunder shakes the pole;
Portentous, solemn, loud its murmurs roll:
While from the subject field the trembling hind
Views instant ruin threat the labours of mankind.
100
For scarce the bitter sigh and deep'ning groan
In fainter cadence died away in air,
When, lo! by fate a deadlier shaft was thrown,
Which open'd ev'ry source of deep despair:
As yet our souls those recent sorrows share,
Swift from th' adjacent field Menalcas flies,
While grief impels his steps, and tears bedew his eyes.
In fainter cadence died away in air,
When, lo! by fate a deadlier shaft was thrown,
Which open'd ev'ry source of deep despair:
As yet our souls those recent sorrows share,
Swift from th' adjacent field Menalcas flies,
While grief impels his steps, and tears bedew his eyes.
Weep on, he cry'd, let tears no measure know;
Hence from those fields let pleasure wing her way:
Ye shades, be hallow'd from this hour to woe:
No more with summer's pride, ye meads be gay.
Ah! why, with sweetness crown'd,
Should summer smile around?
Philanthes now is number'd with the dead:
Young health, all drown'd in tears,
A livid paleness wears;
Dim are her radiant eyes, and all her roses fade.
Hence from those fields let pleasure wing her way:
Ye shades, be hallow'd from this hour to woe:
No more with summer's pride, ye meads be gay.
Ah! why, with sweetness crown'd,
Should summer smile around?
Philanthes now is number'd with the dead:
Young health, all drown'd in tears,
A livid paleness wears;
Dim are her radiant eyes, and all her roses fade.
VII.
Him bright Hygeia, in life's early dawn,
Thro' nature's fav'rite walks with transport led,
Thro' woods umbrageous, or the op'ning lawn,
Or where fresh fountains lave the flow'ry mead:
There summer's treasures to his view display'd,
What herbs and flow'rs salubrious juice bestow,
Along the lowly vale, or mountain's arduous brow.
Thro' nature's fav'rite walks with transport led,
Thro' woods umbrageous, or the op'ning lawn,
Or where fresh fountains lave the flow'ry mead:
There summer's treasures to his view display'd,
What herbs and flow'rs salubrious juice bestow,
Along the lowly vale, or mountain's arduous brow.
101
The paralytic nerve his art confess'd,
Quick-panting asthma, and consumption pale:
Corrosive pain he soften'd into rest,
And bade the fever's rage no more prevail.
Unhappy art! decreed at last to fail,
Why linger'd then thy salutary pow'r,
Nor from a life so dear repell'd the destin'd hour?
Quick-panting asthma, and consumption pale:
Corrosive pain he soften'd into rest,
And bade the fever's rage no more prevail.
Unhappy art! decreed at last to fail,
Why linger'd then thy salutary pow'r,
Nor from a life so dear repell'd the destin'd hour?
Your griefs, O love and friendship, how severe!
When high to heav'n his soul pursu'd her flight;
Your moving plaints still vibrate on my ear,
Still the sad vision swims before my sight.
O'er all the mournful scene,
Inconsolable pain,
In ev'ry various form, appear'd express'd:
The tear-distilling eye,
The long, deep, broken sigh,
Dissolv'd each tender soul, and heav'd in ev'ry breast.
When high to heav'n his soul pursu'd her flight;
Your moving plaints still vibrate on my ear,
Still the sad vision swims before my sight.
O'er all the mournful scene,
Inconsolable pain,
In ev'ry various form, appear'd express'd:
The tear-distilling eye,
The long, deep, broken sigh,
Dissolv'd each tender soul, and heav'd in ev'ry breast.
VIII.
Such were their woes, and oh! how just, how due!
What tears could equal such immense distress?
Time, cure of lighter ills, must ours renew,
And years the sense of what we lose increase.
From whom shall now the wretched hope redress?
Religion where a nobler subject find,
So favour'd of the skies, so dear to human kind?
What tears could equal such immense distress?
Time, cure of lighter ills, must ours renew,
And years the sense of what we lose increase.
From whom shall now the wretched hope redress?
Religion where a nobler subject find,
So favour'd of the skies, so dear to human kind?
102
Fair friendship, smiling on his natal hour,
The babe selected in her sacred train;
She bade him round diffusive blessings show'r,
And in his bosom fix'd her fav'rite fane,
In glory thence how long, yet how serene,
Her vital influence spreads its chearing rays!
Worth felt the genial beam, and ripen'd in the blaze.
The babe selected in her sacred train;
She bade him round diffusive blessings show'r,
And in his bosom fix'd her fav'rite fane,
In glory thence how long, yet how serene,
Her vital influence spreads its chearing rays!
Worth felt the genial beam, and ripen'd in the blaze.
As lucid streams refresh the smiling plain,
Op'ning the flow'rs that on their borders grow;
As grateful to the herb, descending rain,
That shrunk and wither'd in the solar glow:
So, when his voice was heard,
Affliction disappear'd;
Pleasure with ravish'd ears imbib'd the sound;
Grief with its sweetness sooth'd,
Each cloudy feature smooth'd,
And ever-waking care forgot th' eternal wound.
Op'ning the flow'rs that on their borders grow;
As grateful to the herb, descending rain,
That shrunk and wither'd in the solar glow:
So, when his voice was heard,
Affliction disappear'd;
Pleasure with ravish'd ears imbib'd the sound;
Grief with its sweetness sooth'd,
Each cloudy feature smooth'd,
And ever-waking care forgot th' eternal wound.
IX.
Such elegance of taste, such graceful ease,
Infus'd by heav'n, thro' all his manners shone;
In him it seem'd to join what'er could please,
And plan the full perfection from its own:
He other fields and other swains had known,
Gentle as those of old by Phoebus taught,
When polish'd with his lute, like him they spoke and thought.
Infus'd by heav'n, thro' all his manners shone;
In him it seem'd to join what'er could please,
And plan the full perfection from its own:
He other fields and other swains had known,
Gentle as those of old by Phoebus taught,
When polish'd with his lute, like him they spoke and thought.
103
Thus form'd alike to bless, and to be bless'd,
Such heav'nly graces kindred graces found;
Her gentle turn the same, the same her taste,
With equal worth, and equal candour crown'd:
Long may she search creation's ample round,
The joys of such a friendship to explore;
But, once in him expir'd, to joy she lives no more.
Such heav'nly graces kindred graces found;
Her gentle turn the same, the same her taste,
With equal worth, and equal candour crown'd:
Long may she search creation's ample round,
The joys of such a friendship to explore;
But, once in him expir'd, to joy she lives no more.
As nature to her works supremely kind,
His tender soul with all the parent glow'd,
On all his race, his goodness unconfin'd,
One full exhaustless stream of fondness flow'd;
Pleas'd as each genius rose
New prospects to disclose,
To form the mind, and raise its gen'rous aim;
His thoughts, with virtue warm'd,
At once inspir'd and charm'd;
His looks, his words, his smiles transfus'd the sacred flame.
His tender soul with all the parent glow'd,
On all his race, his goodness unconfin'd,
One full exhaustless stream of fondness flow'd;
Pleas'd as each genius rose
New prospects to disclose,
To form the mind, and raise its gen'rous aim;
His thoughts, with virtue warm'd,
At once inspir'd and charm'd;
His looks, his words, his smiles transfus'd the sacred flame.
X.
Say ye, whose minds for long revolving years
The joys of sweet society have known,
Whose mutual fondness ev'ry hour endears,
Whose pains, whose pleasures, and whose souls are one;
O! say, for you can judge, and you alone,
What anguish pierc'd his widow'd consort's heart,
When from her dearer self for ever doom'd to part.
The joys of sweet society have known,
Whose mutual fondness ev'ry hour endears,
Whose pains, whose pleasures, and whose souls are one;
O! say, for you can judge, and you alone,
What anguish pierc'd his widow'd consort's heart,
When from her dearer self for ever doom'd to part.
104
His children to the scene of death repair,
While more than filial sorrow bathes their eyes;
His smiles indulgent, his paternal care,
In sadly-pleasing recollection rise:
But young Dorinda, with distinguish'd sighs,
Effusing all her soul in soft regret,
Seems, while she mourns his loss, to share a father's fate.
While more than filial sorrow bathes their eyes;
His smiles indulgent, his paternal care,
In sadly-pleasing recollection rise:
But young Dorinda, with distinguish'd sighs,
Effusing all her soul in soft regret,
Seems, while she mourns his loss, to share a father's fate.
Whether the day its wonted course renew'd,
Or midnight vigils wrapt the world in shade,
Her tender task assiduous she pursu'd,
To sooth his anguish, or his wants to aid;
To soften ev'ry pain,
The meaning look explain,
And scan the forming wish 'ere yet express'd:
The dying father smil'd
With fondness on his child,
And, when his tongue was mute, his eyes her goodness bless'd.
Or midnight vigils wrapt the world in shade,
Her tender task assiduous she pursu'd,
To sooth his anguish, or his wants to aid;
To soften ev'ry pain,
The meaning look explain,
And scan the forming wish 'ere yet express'd:
The dying father smil'd
With fondness on his child,
And, when his tongue was mute, his eyes her goodness bless'd.
XI.
At length, fair mourner! cease thy rising woe:
Its object still surviving seeks the skies,
Where brighter suns in happier climates glow,
And ampler scenes with height'ning charms surprise:
There perfect life thy much lov'd fire enjoys,
The life of gods, exempt from grief and pain,
Where in immortal breasts immortal transports reign.
Its object still surviving seeks the skies,
Where brighter suns in happier climates glow,
And ampler scenes with height'ning charms surprise:
There perfect life thy much lov'd fire enjoys,
The life of gods, exempt from grief and pain,
Where in immortal breasts immortal transports reign.
105
Ye mourning swains, your loud complaints forbear;
Still he, the Genius of our green retreat,
Shall with benignant care our labours chear,
And banish far each shock of adverse fate;
Mild suns and gentle show'rs on spring shall wait,
His hand with ev'ry fruit shall autumn store:
In heav'n your patron reigns, ye shepherds weep no more.
Still he, the Genius of our green retreat,
Shall with benignant care our labours chear,
And banish far each shock of adverse fate;
Mild suns and gentle show'rs on spring shall wait,
His hand with ev'ry fruit shall autumn store:
In heav'n your patron reigns, ye shepherds weep no more.
Henceforth his pow'r shall with your Lares join,
To bid your cots with peace and pleasure smile;
To bid disease and languor cease to pine,
And fair abundance crown each rural toil:
While birds their lays resume,
And spring her annual bloom,
Let verdant wreaths his sacred tomb adorn;
To him, each rising day
Devout libations pay:
In heav'n your patron reigns, no more, ye shepherds, mourn.
To bid your cots with peace and pleasure smile;
To bid disease and languor cease to pine,
And fair abundance crown each rural toil:
While birds their lays resume,
And spring her annual bloom,
Let verdant wreaths his sacred tomb adorn;
To him, each rising day
Devout libations pay:
In heav'n your patron reigns, no more, ye shepherds, mourn.
| Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock | |