The birth and triumph of Love A poem. By Sir James Bland Lamb [i.e. Burges]: With the original designs by an illustrious personage. Engraved by P. W. Tomkins |
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VERSES WRITTEN FOR THE ELECTION AT WESTMINSTER SCHOOL,
BY THE MOST REV. WILLIAM VINCENT, D.D. DEAN OF WESTMINSTER. |
 | The birth and triumph of Love |  |
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VERSES WRITTEN FOR THE ELECTION AT WESTMINSTER SCHOOL, BY THE MOST REV. WILLIAM VINCENT, D.D. DEAN OF WESTMINSTER.
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For the accommodation of those fair readers who may condescend to honour this volume with a perusal, it has been judged expedient to annex a Translation of the foregoing elegant composition.
Hail, Royal Maiden! by whose plastic hand
Were Cupid's birth and first achievements plann'd;
Illustrious leader of the graphic train!
To accept from me this votive chaplet deign.
Were Cupid's birth and first achievements plann'd;
Illustrious leader of the graphic train!
To accept from me this votive chaplet deign.
From a disparting cloud, 'mid skies serene,
Lo! where the form of new-born Love is seen.
Gently himself he rears; with footsteps weak
See him his way as yet uncertain seek.
Soon from each shoulder burst forth pinions light:
Forthwith aloft he wings his airy flight;
High heav'n he quits, and, 'lighting here below,
Celestial arms receives, his dart and bow.
While o'er the plains his pastime he pursues,
Two Hearts, his prey legitimate, he views.
His bow he bends—a fruitless aim he takes—
Harmless the arrow flies—it falls—it breaks.
What may he do?—Straight on a tow'ring rock
Th' insulting Hearts his idle efforts mock.
Vain seem his efforts. How the wide morass,
The foul mephitic vapour, can he pass?
Hope lends her aid. By her upborne he flies;
Both Hearts, transfix'd, become his glorious prize.
What laurell'd trophies now, what triumphs high
Await the victor in his native sky!
Lo! where the form of new-born Love is seen.
Gently himself he rears; with footsteps weak
See him his way as yet uncertain seek.
Soon from each shoulder burst forth pinions light:
Forthwith aloft he wings his airy flight;
High heav'n he quits, and, 'lighting here below,
Celestial arms receives, his dart and bow.
While o'er the plains his pastime he pursues,
Two Hearts, his prey legitimate, he views.
His bow he bends—a fruitless aim he takes—
Harmless the arrow flies—it falls—it breaks.
What may he do?—Straight on a tow'ring rock
Th' insulting Hearts his idle efforts mock.
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The foul mephitic vapour, can he pass?
Hope lends her aid. By her upborne he flies;
Both Hearts, transfix'd, become his glorious prize.
What laurell'd trophies now, what triumphs high
Await the victor in his native sky!
Such was the tale, fair Nymph! thine art supplied.
May Love and Hymen o'er thy fate preside!
May Love and Hymen o'er thy fate preside!
J. B. L.
| The birth and triumph of Love | |