The Works of John Hall-Stevenson ... Corrected and Enlarged. With Several Original Poems, Now First Printed, and Explanatory Notes. In Three Volumes |
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BOOK III. ODE XXIX. |
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 | The Works of John Hall-Stevenson |  |
18
BOOK III. ODE XXIX.
To MÆCENAS.
Offspring of British kings of yore,
To put your spirits in fine tune,
I have some Burgundy in store,
With roses for the tenth of June .
To put your spirits in fine tune,
I have some Burgundy in store,
With roses for the tenth of June .
Quit those damp glades, nor musing mope,
Enchanted with your arms across,
Fix'd like a statue on a slope,
Or the pagoda like a Joss.
Enchanted with your arms across,
Fix'd like a statue on a slope,
Or the pagoda like a Joss.
Let not the noise of yon black city
One moment discompose your peace;
Look down on pomp awhile with pity,
And let fastidious plenty cease.
One moment discompose your peace;
Look down on pomp awhile with pity,
And let fastidious plenty cease.
19
A grateful change to homely fare,
A cot, a barn-door fowl, and mutton,
Oft smooth the anxious face of care,
And squeamishness herself turns glutton.
A cot, a barn-door fowl, and mutton,
Oft smooth the anxious face of care,
And squeamishness herself turns glutton.
Now Phœbus rages, now the swain
With languor drives his fainting sheep
From the parch'd meads and sultry plain,
To silver streams and thickets deep.
With languor drives his fainting sheep
From the parch'd meads and sultry plain,
To silver streams and thickets deep.
Upon the Thames there's not a breeze,
No zephyr with expiring breath,
To animate those horrid trees,
Silent and motionless as death.
No zephyr with expiring breath,
To animate those horrid trees,
Silent and motionless as death.
There you form all your decent plans,
To righteousness give a new birth;
And with your Tories and your clans
Govern the princes of the earth.
To righteousness give a new birth;
And with your Tories and your clans
Govern the princes of the earth.
20
Heaven kindly keeps us in the dark,
And, spite of all our fine-spun schemes,
Laughs when we overshoot the mark,
Both at our fears and sanguine dreams.
And, spite of all our fine-spun schemes,
Laughs when we overshoot the mark,
Both at our fears and sanguine dreams.
The present's all we have to heed;
Futurity is like a current;
Now smooth and pleasant as the Tweed,
Now dreadful like a highland torrent.
Futurity is like a current;
Now smooth and pleasant as the Tweed,
Now dreadful like a highland torrent.
Tumbling with fury down the vale,
The rocks resound the mountains rattle;
Pines float along with groves of cale,
Huts, plaids, blue bonnets, and black cattle.
The rocks resound the mountains rattle;
Pines float along with groves of cale,
Huts, plaids, blue bonnets, and black cattle.
Happy is he who lives to-day,
Lives for himself, 'tis so much gain,
Whether the next be sad or gay,
Or the sun never rise again.
Lives for himself, 'tis so much gain,
Whether the next be sad or gay,
Or the sun never rise again.
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'Tis done—nor can the power of fate
Cancel and set the deed aside,
Nor Fortune's insolence and hate
That loves to mortify our pride.
Cancel and set the deed aside,
Nor Fortune's insolence and hate
That loves to mortify our pride.
Let her pursue her cruel sport,
Past pleasures cannot be destroy'd;
She cannot, as she does at court,
Vacate what we have once enjoy'd.
Past pleasures cannot be destroy'd;
She cannot, as she does at court,
Vacate what we have once enjoy'd.
Faithful whilst she continues mine;
But, if she violates my bed,
The painted harlot I resign,
And Virtue, though unportion'd, wed.
But, if she violates my bed,
The painted harlot I resign,
And Virtue, though unportion'd, wed.
When the storm beats, and seas run high,
I shall not importune with prayers,
The angry princes of the sky
To spare my curious Cyprean wares.
I shall not importune with prayers,
The angry princes of the sky
To spare my curious Cyprean wares.
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Nor duped by hope, like many a one,
Stay blubbering beneath the deck,
But, when both mast and rudder's gone,
Take to my boat and leave the wreck.
Stay blubbering beneath the deck,
But, when both mast and rudder's gone,
Take to my boat and leave the wreck.
| The Works of John Hall-Stevenson | |