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 | The miscellaneous essays and occasional writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq |  |
93
Goddess sublime! on whose advent'rous wing,
Like the sweet lark, fleet fancy mounts to sing;
Whether it chance to please thee, youthful queen,
With airy step to grace the rural scene;
Or softly languish thro' the breezy grove,
In all the dying tenderness of love:
Whether thro' some untrodden flow'ry way,
With contemplation mild, thou lov'st to stray;
Or on a tempest's rapid fury rise,
And dip thy plumage in the wat'ry skies;
Or moon-light wand'ring by the wave worn shore
Wait on old Ocean's melancholy roar:
Where'er thou art, once more my pray'r attend;
Once more celestial muse thy influence lend.
Like the sweet lark, fleet fancy mounts to sing;
Whether it chance to please thee, youthful queen,
With airy step to grace the rural scene;
Or softly languish thro' the breezy grove,
In all the dying tenderness of love:
Whether thro' some untrodden flow'ry way,
With contemplation mild, thou lov'st to stray;
Or on a tempest's rapid fury rise,
And dip thy plumage in the wat'ry skies;
Or moon-light wand'ring by the wave worn shore
Wait on old Ocean's melancholy roar:
Where'er thou art, once more my pray'r attend;
Once more celestial muse thy influence lend.
Fair science soft'ning with reforming hand,
The native rudeness of a barb'rous land:
Her radiant throne uprais'd by pow'r divine,
Her num'rous sons low bending at her shrine.
Joyful I sing—oh! may my numbers seem
To flow inspir'd, and equal to my theme.
The native rudeness of a barb'rous land:
Her radiant throne uprais'd by pow'r divine,
Her num'rous sons low bending at her shrine.
Joyful I sing—oh! may my numbers seem
To flow inspir'd, and equal to my theme.
94
Ye friends of learning, patronize my song,
To you the tributary strains belong:
But chiefly , thou beneath whose gentle sway
The muse delights to tune her grateful lay:
Glad science, thee, shall her Mæcenas hail,
Wisdom shall smile and heav'nly truth prevail!
In yonder dome—it boasts no pompous name,
Yet not the less shall fill the page of fame,
Bright science dwells—how honour'd the retreat,
Where science deigns to fix her fav'rite seat.
High from the throne she beams celestial day;
And distant lands confess th' enliv'ning ray:
The graces ever in her presence stand
And virtue blooms beneath her nursing hand.
To you the tributary strains belong:
But chiefly , thou beneath whose gentle sway
The muse delights to tune her grateful lay:
Glad science, thee, shall her Mæcenas hail,
Wisdom shall smile and heav'nly truth prevail!
In yonder dome—it boasts no pompous name,
Yet not the less shall fill the page of fame,
Bright science dwells—how honour'd the retreat,
Where science deigns to fix her fav'rite seat.
High from the throne she beams celestial day;
And distant lands confess th' enliv'ning ray:
The graces ever in her presence stand
And virtue blooms beneath her nursing hand.
There first her youthful vot'ry learns to please
By just expression and becoming ease—
Delightful task, with early care to teach
The lisping tongue propriety of speech.
See on the stage the little hero stands,
With eyes uplifted, with extended hands:
Or from his lips Pope's liquid numbers flow,
In streams mellifluous—See the conscious glow
Burns on his cheek—perhaps the strains inspire
The infant raptures of poetic fire:
Perhaps 'tis modesty, with native grace,
Calls forth the roses in his youthful face:
O now the force of eloquence he tries,
And attic light'nings kindle in his eyes.
Methinks I see the deep touch'd senate glow
While mimic thunders threaten from his brow;
Or now his gentle voice in borrow'd lays,
Swells the smooth tribute of his Maker's praise:
See the warm ardor of the saint exprest,
As if the numbers fir'd his little breast:
What joy to hear; what raptures to behold,
The youthful bard, so graceful and so bold:
In virtues cause—bright truth shall soon inspire
The living ardors of a real fire.
By just expression and becoming ease—
Delightful task, with early care to teach
The lisping tongue propriety of speech.
See on the stage the little hero stands,
With eyes uplifted, with extended hands:
Or from his lips Pope's liquid numbers flow,
In streams mellifluous—See the conscious glow
Burns on his cheek—perhaps the strains inspire
The infant raptures of poetic fire:
Perhaps 'tis modesty, with native grace,
Calls forth the roses in his youthful face:
95
And attic light'nings kindle in his eyes.
Methinks I see the deep touch'd senate glow
While mimic thunders threaten from his brow;
Or now his gentle voice in borrow'd lays,
Swells the smooth tribute of his Maker's praise:
See the warm ardor of the saint exprest,
As if the numbers fir'd his little breast:
What joy to hear; what raptures to behold,
The youthful bard, so graceful and so bold:
In virtues cause—bright truth shall soon inspire
The living ardors of a real fire.
But now glad science to his riper age
Unfolds the treasures of the classic page:
Sweet Heliconian draughts enrich his soul;
From the pure stream he drinks without controul.
Virgil for him awakes the tuneful lyre,
And lavish Pindar pow'rs forth all his fire.
Pious Æneas, who attends thy woe
But deeply feels the sympathetic glow!
Thro' ev'ry page engaging virtues shine,
And frequent precepts grace each moral line:
Whilst Horace leads the lyric muse along
With careless ease attunes the pleasing song;
Th' unlabour'd thought harmoniously exprest,
Gives gayer transport to the youthful breast:
Homer more boldly strikes the epic string;
Swift are we borne upon his rapid wing,
Where bleeding heroes stain th' ensanguin'd ground,
And angry gods are heard in thunder round.
Unfolds the treasures of the classic page:
Sweet Heliconian draughts enrich his soul;
From the pure stream he drinks without controul.
Virgil for him awakes the tuneful lyre,
And lavish Pindar pow'rs forth all his fire.
Pious Æneas, who attends thy woe
But deeply feels the sympathetic glow!
Thro' ev'ry page engaging virtues shine,
And frequent precepts grace each moral line:
Whilst Horace leads the lyric muse along
With careless ease attunes the pleasing song;
Th' unlabour'd thought harmoniously exprest,
Gives gayer transport to the youthful breast:
Homer more boldly strikes the epic string;
Swift are we borne upon his rapid wing,
Where bleeding heroes stain th' ensanguin'd ground,
And angry gods are heard in thunder round.
96
And now advanc'd the student loves t'engage,
More arduous heights—the mathematic page
Invites his riper judgment to explore,
The mazy windings of her subtle lore:
The pleasing toil delights th' enquiring youth,
And science guides him to th' entangled truth.
More arduous heights—the mathematic page
Invites his riper judgment to explore,
The mazy windings of her subtle lore:
The pleasing toil delights th' enquiring youth,
And science guides him to th' entangled truth.
At length behold to his astonish'd eye,
Nature's vast volume all expanded lye;
From the effect he seeks the hidden cause,
And deeply searches her mysterious laws.
Earth, air, nor sea, nor heav'ns extended space
Can bound the reach of man's aspiring race;
Upward he lifts the astronomic eye,
Surveys those orbs of light that roll on high:
Mid sun's and blazing stars he dares to rove,
And learn th' important laws by which they move:
Sits in the centre, wrapt in thought profound,
And views the radiant system rolling round.
To reason's eye there shall the cause appear,
Why various seasons form the changing year:
Spring first in mantle green and garlands gay,
Sweet smelling as she passes, leads the way.
With breezy call awakes each rural sound,
And fills with music woods and valleys round:
Then Summer comes light clad in glowing red,
Whilst the thick foliage nods around her head:
With lavish bounty from her lap she pours,
Luxuriant gifts of herbage, fruits and flow'rs.
In yellow garb see Autumn next appear,
To crown with plenty the rejoicing year:
O'er new reap'd fields with airy steps she roves,
And paints in various hue the fading groves.
Then boisterous Winter howls along the plain,
Affrighted vegetation shrinks again
Back into earth; woods, hills, and valleys stand
Strip'd of their pride by his relentless hand:
In icy bonds he holds the water's fall,
And in his snowy mantle wraps them all.
Nature's vast volume all expanded lye;
From the effect he seeks the hidden cause,
And deeply searches her mysterious laws.
Earth, air, nor sea, nor heav'ns extended space
Can bound the reach of man's aspiring race;
Upward he lifts the astronomic eye,
Surveys those orbs of light that roll on high:
Mid sun's and blazing stars he dares to rove,
And learn th' important laws by which they move:
Sits in the centre, wrapt in thought profound,
And views the radiant system rolling round.
To reason's eye there shall the cause appear,
Why various seasons form the changing year:
Spring first in mantle green and garlands gay,
Sweet smelling as she passes, leads the way.
With breezy call awakes each rural sound,
And fills with music woods and valleys round:
Then Summer comes light clad in glowing red,
Whilst the thick foliage nods around her head:
With lavish bounty from her lap she pours,
Luxuriant gifts of herbage, fruits and flow'rs.
In yellow garb see Autumn next appear,
To crown with plenty the rejoicing year:
97
And paints in various hue the fading groves.
Then boisterous Winter howls along the plain,
Affrighted vegetation shrinks again
Back into earth; woods, hills, and valleys stand
Strip'd of their pride by his relentless hand:
In icy bonds he holds the water's fall,
And in his snowy mantle wraps them all.
Thus shall his eye important truths pursue,
And in his works the Great Creator view:
The birds on pointed pinions mounting high,
That pour shrill music from the azure sky;
The fish that sporting in the lucid stream,
Swift glide and glitter to the sun's bright beam;
The herbs medicinal that strew the ground;
The varied flow'rs that bloom spontaneous round;
The grove, high waving, the green tufted dale,
The pearl deck'd grotto, the sequester'd vale;
All must the philosophic bosom move,
To wonder, gratitude, and glowing love.
And in his works the Great Creator view:
The birds on pointed pinions mounting high,
That pour shrill music from the azure sky;
The fish that sporting in the lucid stream,
Swift glide and glitter to the sun's bright beam;
The herbs medicinal that strew the ground;
The varied flow'rs that bloom spontaneous round;
The grove, high waving, the green tufted dale,
The pearl deck'd grotto, the sequester'd vale;
All must the philosophic bosom move,
To wonder, gratitude, and glowing love.
But now the pupil takes his boldest flight;
See adventrous him, climb the tow'ring height,
Of Ethic learning—more extensive fields,
Views more enlarg'd, the boundless prospect yields.
His searches now pursue a nobler plan,
Now comes that grand enquiry what is man?
How form'd? by whom? thence shall he learn to know
From his connections what great duties flow.
What pow'rs are giv'n those duties to fulfill;
How form the judgment; how direct the will;
When passion to indulge, when to restrain;
And how his happiness supreme obtain;
What is the nature of his nobler part;
Why with ambition throbs his anxious heart;
To draw the mid-night curtains of the tomb,
And look for judgment and a world to come.
See adventrous him, climb the tow'ring height,
Of Ethic learning—more extensive fields,
Views more enlarg'd, the boundless prospect yields.
His searches now pursue a nobler plan,
Now comes that grand enquiry what is man?
How form'd? by whom? thence shall he learn to know
From his connections what great duties flow.
98
How form the judgment; how direct the will;
When passion to indulge, when to restrain;
And how his happiness supreme obtain;
What is the nature of his nobler part;
Why with ambition throbs his anxious heart;
To draw the mid-night curtains of the tomb,
And look for judgment and a world to come.
From such pursuits what great ideas flow?
See in his visage conscious virtue glow:
His views enlarge, enlighten'd is his mind;
More warm his heart, his passions more refin'd:
Religion kindles her celestial ray,
And truth breaks on him in a flood of day!
See in his visage conscious virtue glow:
His views enlarge, enlighten'd is his mind;
More warm his heart, his passions more refin'd:
Religion kindles her celestial ray,
And truth breaks on him in a flood of day!
Pierian muse! thy favour still prolong
And let thy presence animate my song!
And let thy presence animate my song!
Now science joys to calls the youth her own
And crowns with laurel her adopted son:
His Alma mater now prepares to shed,
Her rich rewards on his distinguish'd head:
The vaulted hall the rising anthems rend,
And pressing crowds the solemn rite attend:
Prepar'd for action now he takes the field,
And speculation must to practice yield.
High on the stage, and graceful to the view,
“Adieu dear seat of bliss, he cries adieu;”
Pathetic sorrows in his bosom swell,
And with reluctant voice he sighs a last farewell.
And crowns with laurel her adopted son:
His Alma mater now prepares to shed,
Her rich rewards on his distinguish'd head:
The vaulted hall the rising anthems rend,
And pressing crowds the solemn rite attend:
Prepar'd for action now he takes the field,
And speculation must to practice yield.
High on the stage, and graceful to the view,
“Adieu dear seat of bliss, he cries adieu;”
99
And with reluctant voice he sighs a last farewell.
What means my trembling pulse and throbbing breast?
Why is the scene to me so strong exprest?
Fancy again renews the awful rite;
Th' encircling audience swims before my sight;
Once more my heart beats quick with anxious fear:
Once more methinks the solemn charge I hear—
“ Go forth my sons, our first, our early pride,
“Thro' life's dark maze be virtue still your guide;
“Without religion, learning is but vain,
“And fruitless toil philosophy to gain:
“'Tis not sufficient that what's right you know,
“Your conduct ever should your knowledge show:
“Should injur'd freedom for assistance cry,
“Nor eye, nor ear, nor hand, nor heart deny;
“With pious zeal up raise her drooping head!
“There's nought but vice and tyranny to dread.”
Blest institution, nurse of liberty!
My heart, my grateful heart, shall glow for thee:
No common pride I boast, no common joy,
That thy instructions did my youth employ.
Tho' not the first amongst thy sons I prove,
Yet well I feel I'm not the last in love.
Oh! may thy sacred influence never cease,
But in secure prosperity increase!
Why is the scene to me so strong exprest?
Fancy again renews the awful rite;
Th' encircling audience swims before my sight;
Once more my heart beats quick with anxious fear:
Once more methinks the solemn charge I hear—
“ Go forth my sons, our first, our early pride,
“Thro' life's dark maze be virtue still your guide;
“Without religion, learning is but vain,
“And fruitless toil philosophy to gain:
“'Tis not sufficient that what's right you know,
“Your conduct ever should your knowledge show:
“Should injur'd freedom for assistance cry,
“Nor eye, nor ear, nor hand, nor heart deny;
“With pious zeal up raise her drooping head!
“There's nought but vice and tyranny to dread.”
Blest institution, nurse of liberty!
My heart, my grateful heart, shall glow for thee:
No common pride I boast, no common joy,
That thy instructions did my youth employ.
Tho' not the first amongst thy sons I prove,
Yet well I feel I'm not the last in love.
Oh! may thy sacred influence never cease,
But in secure prosperity increase!
100
It must be so, prophetic fancy cries;
See other Newton's other Shakespeare's rise;
Each sage philosopher, each learn'd divine
And patriot worthies an illustrious line:
All those who nobly fill Fame's ample page,
Again revive to grace a future age.—
Blest institution! hail, methinks I see
The shining throng ascribe their birth to thee.
Thou, Schuylkill, from whose cliffs I love to view,
Thy gurgling stream its rocky way pursue,
Shalt own the change: the savage yell no more
With fearful sounds shall rend thy rugged shore:
Oh! let thy groves their richest beauties wear,
And for approaching happier times prepare.
Along thy banks the pensive bard shall stray;
Sweep the sweet lyre, and wake the tuneful lay:
Echo shall love to catch the pleasing sound,
And bid it soften all thy rocks around:
Ev'n now thy flow'ry paths I see him tread,
And pluck thy laurels to adorn his head;
How shall thy waves elate flow proudly by,
And grow more turgid but to catch his eye?
How shall thy rural scenes bloom in his song,
And each romantic height his strains prolong?
Then whilst his breast with sacred ardor burns,
Religion, Justice, Liberty by turns;
And science too, in more harmonious strains,
Shall sweetly warble to the hills and plains:
Perhaps the bard, when highest noon prevails,
Beneath some shade shall court refreshing gales;
And whilst his wand'ring fancy roves more free,
May chance to think of earlier times and me.
Presumptuous thought, shall my unpolish'd lay,
Be borne in safety down time's rapid way?
The dang'rous rocks of criticism fly,
And fearless pass Oblivion's quick sands by?
Enough for me, if with the least regard,
The friends of science should my song reward;
No speedy death my artless strains shall know,
Not without honour will my numbers flow,
If with indulgence, they should not refuse,
To smile propitious on my humble muse.
See other Newton's other Shakespeare's rise;
Each sage philosopher, each learn'd divine
And patriot worthies an illustrious line:
All those who nobly fill Fame's ample page,
Again revive to grace a future age.—
Blest institution! hail, methinks I see
The shining throng ascribe their birth to thee.
Thou, Schuylkill, from whose cliffs I love to view,
Thy gurgling stream its rocky way pursue,
Shalt own the change: the savage yell no more
With fearful sounds shall rend thy rugged shore:
Oh! let thy groves their richest beauties wear,
And for approaching happier times prepare.
Along thy banks the pensive bard shall stray;
Sweep the sweet lyre, and wake the tuneful lay:
Echo shall love to catch the pleasing sound,
And bid it soften all thy rocks around:
Ev'n now thy flow'ry paths I see him tread,
And pluck thy laurels to adorn his head;
How shall thy waves elate flow proudly by,
And grow more turgid but to catch his eye?
How shall thy rural scenes bloom in his song,
And each romantic height his strains prolong?
Then whilst his breast with sacred ardor burns,
Religion, Justice, Liberty by turns;
And science too, in more harmonious strains,
Shall sweetly warble to the hills and plains:
Perhaps the bard, when highest noon prevails,
Beneath some shade shall court refreshing gales;
101
May chance to think of earlier times and me.
Presumptuous thought, shall my unpolish'd lay,
Be borne in safety down time's rapid way?
The dang'rous rocks of criticism fly,
And fearless pass Oblivion's quick sands by?
Enough for me, if with the least regard,
The friends of science should my song reward;
No speedy death my artless strains shall know,
Not without honour will my numbers flow,
If with indulgence, they should not refuse,
To smile propitious on my humble muse.
| The miscellaneous essays and occasional writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq | |