Poems on Several Occasions To which is added Gondibert and Birtha, A Tragedy. By William Thompson |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. | THE RECOVERY.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
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THE RECOVERY.
Book IV.
Thou hast deliver'd my Soul from Death, and my Feet from Falling, that I may walk before God in the Light of the Living.
Psalms.
266
Argument of the Fourth Book.
Reflections . Sickness at the worst. Hopes of Recovery cast on Heav'n alone. Prospect of Futurity at this Juncture. Guardian-Angel's Hymn to Mercy. Description of Her. She sends Hygeia to the Well of Life; both describ'd. Her Descent. The Effects. Abatement of the Distemper. Apostrophe to Sleep. Recovery of Sight; and Pleasure flowing from thence. Health by Degrees restor'd. Comparison between Sickness and Health in Regard to the Body and Mind.
267
Swift
too, thy Tale is told: a Sound, a Name,
No more than Lucian, Butler, or Scarron.
Fantastic Humour drop'd the feeling Sense,
Her Empire less'ning by his Fall. The Shades
Of frolick Rabelais, and He of Spain,
Madrid's facetious Glory, join his Ghost;
Triumvirate of Laughter!—Mirth is mad;
The loudest Languishing into a Sigh:
And Laughter shakes itself into Decay.
No more than Lucian, Butler, or Scarron.
Fantastic Humour drop'd the feeling Sense,
Her Empire less'ning by his Fall. The Shades
Of frolick Rabelais, and He of Spain,
Madrid's facetious Glory, join his Ghost;
Triumvirate of Laughter!—Mirth is mad;
The loudest Languishing into a Sigh:
And Laughter shakes itself into Decay.
“Lord! what is Man?” the Prophet well might ask;
We all may ask, “Lord! what is mortal Man?”
So changeable his Being, with himself
Dissimilar; the Rainbow of an Hour!
A Change of Colours, transient through his Life,
Brightens or languishes;—then fades to Air.
Ev'n e're an artful Spider spins a Line
Of Metaphysick Texture, Man's thin Thread
Of Life is broken: how analogous
Their Parallel of Lines! slight, subtle, vain,
We all may ask, “Lord! what is mortal Man?”
So changeable his Being, with himself
268
A Change of Colours, transient through his Life,
Brightens or languishes;—then fades to Air.
Ev'n e're an artful Spider spins a Line
Of Metaphysick Texture, Man's thin Thread
Of Life is broken: how analogous
Their Parallel of Lines! slight, subtle, vain,
Man, in a little Hour's contracted Round
Perplexes Reason: now to triumph swell'd,
To joyous Exultations, to a Blaze
Of Ecstasy; and now depress'd, again,
And drooping into Scenes of Death and Woe.
Perplexes Reason: now to triumph swell'd,
To joyous Exultations, to a Blaze
Of Ecstasy; and now depress'd, again,
And drooping into Scenes of Death and Woe.
That sudden Flow of Spirits, bright and strong,
Which play'd in sprightly Sallies round my Heart;
Was it a Gleam, fore-warning me from Heav'n,
Of quick-approaching Fate? As Tapers mount
Expiring into wide-diffusive Flame,
Give one broad Glare, into the Socket sink,
And Sinking disappear.—It must be so!—
The Soul, prophetick of it's Voy'ge, descry'd
The blissful Shore, exulting on the Wing,
In a glad Flutter: then, o'erwhelm'd with Joy,
She warn'd her old Companion of her Flight,
(The feeble Tenement of mould'ring Clay)
Who sadden'd at their Parting.—Yes,—I feel
Thy leaden Hand, O Death! it presses hard,
It weighs the Faculties of Motion down,
Inactive as the Foot of a dull Rock,
And drags me to thy dusty Chains: the Wheels
Of Life are fastned to the Grave, nor whirl,
Longer, the fiery Chariot on. The War,
The Struggle for Eternity begins.
Eternity! illimitable, vast,
Incomprehensible! For Heav'n and Hell,
Within her universal Womb, profound,
Are center'd.—Sleep or Death are on my Heart:
Swims heavily my Brain:—My Senses reel.
Which play'd in sprightly Sallies round my Heart;
Was it a Gleam, fore-warning me from Heav'n,
Of quick-approaching Fate? As Tapers mount
Expiring into wide-diffusive Flame,
Give one broad Glare, into the Socket sink,
And Sinking disappear.—It must be so!—
269
The blissful Shore, exulting on the Wing,
In a glad Flutter: then, o'erwhelm'd with Joy,
She warn'd her old Companion of her Flight,
(The feeble Tenement of mould'ring Clay)
Who sadden'd at their Parting.—Yes,—I feel
Thy leaden Hand, O Death! it presses hard,
It weighs the Faculties of Motion down,
Inactive as the Foot of a dull Rock,
And drags me to thy dusty Chains: the Wheels
Of Life are fastned to the Grave, nor whirl,
Longer, the fiery Chariot on. The War,
The Struggle for Eternity begins.
Eternity! illimitable, vast,
Incomprehensible! For Heav'n and Hell,
Within her universal Womb, profound,
Are center'd.—Sleep or Death are on my Heart:
Swims heavily my Brain:—My Senses reel.
What Scenes disclose themselves! What Fields of Joy!
What Rivers of Delight! What golden Bow'rs!
Sweetly oppress'd with beatifick Views,
I hear Angelick-instruments, I see
Primæval Ardours, and essential Forms;
The Sons of Light,
but of created Light,
All Energy, the Diligence of God!
Might I but join them! Lend your glitt'ring Wings,
Waft me, O quickly waft me to you Crown,
Bright with the flaming Roses of the Zone
Sidereal: Gracious, they, beck'ning, smile,
They smile me to the Skies! Hope leads the Way:
Mounting I spring to seize!—What Fury shakes
Her fiery Sword, and intercepts the Stars?
Ha! Amartia? Conscience, Conscience sends
Her griesly Form, to blast me at my End.
Behold! she points to burning Rocks, to Waves
Sulphureous, molten Lead, and boiling Gulphs,
Tempestuous with everlasting Fire.—
'Tis horrible!—O save me from myself!—
O save me, Jesu!—Ha! a Burst of Light
Blends with the Empyréum's azure Tide,
While Faith, triumphant, swells the Trump of God,
And Shouting, “Where's thy Victory, O Grave?
And where, O Death, thy Sting?” I see her spread
Her saving Banner o'er my Soul (the Cross!)
And call it to its Peers. Thick Crowds of Day,
Immaculate, involve me in their Streams,
And bathe my Spirit, whiten'd for the Sky.
What Rivers of Delight! What golden Bow'rs!
270
I hear Angelick-instruments, I see
Primæval Ardours, and essential Forms;
The Sons of Light,
Light is the first-born of all Creatures, and it is commonly observed that the Angels were created at the same Period of Time. St. Austin thinks them meant under Fiat Lux, Let there be Light: De Civitate Dei, l. xi. c. 9. This indeed is only conjectural, and we have no Article of the Apostles Creed which directs upon any Considerations of Angels; because perhaps it exceeds the Faculties of Men to understand their Nature, and it may not conduce much to our practical Edification to know them. Yet however this Observation may serve to illustrate that beautiful Passage in the Book of Job: When the Morning-Stars sang together, and all the Sons of God shouted for Joy.
All Energy, the Diligence of God!
Might I but join them! Lend your glitt'ring Wings,
Waft me, O quickly waft me to you Crown,
Bright with the flaming Roses of the Zone
Sidereal: Gracious, they, beck'ning, smile,
They smile me to the Skies! Hope leads the Way:
Mounting I spring to seize!—What Fury shakes
Her fiery Sword, and intercepts the Stars?
Ha! Amartia? Conscience, Conscience sends
Her griesly Form, to blast me at my End.
Behold! she points to burning Rocks, to Waves
Sulphureous, molten Lead, and boiling Gulphs,
Tempestuous with everlasting Fire.—
'Tis horrible!—O save me from myself!—
O save me, Jesu!—Ha! a Burst of Light
Blends with the Empyréum's azure Tide,
While Faith, triumphant, swells the Trump of God,
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And where, O Death, thy Sting?” I see her spread
Her saving Banner o'er my Soul (the Cross!)
And call it to its Peers. Thick Crowds of Day,
Immaculate, involve me in their Streams,
And bathe my Spirit, whiten'd for the Sky.
While on this Isthmus of my Fate I lye,
Jutting into Eternity's wide Sea,
And leaning on this habitable Globe,
The Verge of either World! dubious of Life,
Dubious, alike, of Death; to Mercy thus,
Inspirited with supplicating Zeal,
My Guardian-Angel rais'd his potent Pray'r.
(For Angels minister to Man, intent
On Offices of Gentleness and Love.)
Jutting into Eternity's wide Sea,
And leaning on this habitable Globe,
The Verge of either World! dubious of Life,
Dubious, alike, of Death; to Mercy thus,
Inspirited with supplicating Zeal,
My Guardian-Angel rais'd his potent Pray'r.
(For Angels minister to Man, intent
On Offices of Gentleness and Love.)
“Hear, Mercy! sweetest Daughter of the Skies,
Thou loveliest Image of thy Father's Face,
Thou blessed Fount, whence Grace and Goodness flow,
Auspicious, hear! extend thy helping Arm,
With pitying Readiness, with willing Aid,
O lift thy Servant from the Vale of Death,
Now groveling in the Dust, into the Fields
Of Comfort, and the Pastures green of Health.
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies!
If e're thy Servant to the Poor his Soul
Drew out, and taught the Fatherless to sing;
If e're by Pity warm'd, and not by Pride,
He cloath'd the Naked, and the Hungry fed;
If e're Distress, and Misery, forelorn,
Deceiv'd his Cheek, and stole his untaught Tear,
An humble Drop of thy celestial Dew!
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies.
Thou loveliest Image of thy Father's Face,
Thou blessed Fount, whence Grace and Goodness flow,
Auspicious, hear! extend thy helping Arm,
272
O lift thy Servant from the Vale of Death,
Now groveling in the Dust, into the Fields
Of Comfort, and the Pastures green of Health.
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies!
If e're thy Servant to the Poor his Soul
Drew out, and taught the Fatherless to sing;
If e're by Pity warm'd, and not by Pride,
He cloath'd the Naked, and the Hungry fed;
If e're Distress, and Misery, forelorn,
Deceiv'd his Cheek, and stole his untaught Tear,
An humble Drop of thy celestial Dew!
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies.
Sprung from the Bosom of eternal Bliss,
Thy Goodness reaches farther than the Grave;
And near the Gates of Hell extends thy Sway,
Omnipotent! All, save the cursed Crew
Infernal, and the black-rebellious Host
Of Lucifer, within thy sweet Domain
Feed on Ambrosia, and may hope the Stars.
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies.
By thee, the great Physician from the Bed
Of Darkness call'd the Sick, the Blind, the Lame;
He burst the Grave's relentless Bars by thee,
And spoke the Dead to Life and Bloom again.
His Miracles, thy Work; their Glory, thine:
Then, O thou dearest Attribute of God!
Thy saving Health to this thy Servant lend!
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies!”
Thy Goodness reaches farther than the Grave;
And near the Gates of Hell extends thy Sway,
Omnipotent! All, save the cursed Crew
Infernal, and the black-rebellious Host
Of Lucifer, within thy sweet Domain
Feed on Ambrosia, and may hope the Stars.
273
By thee, the great Physician from the Bed
Of Darkness call'd the Sick, the Blind, the Lame;
He burst the Grave's relentless Bars by thee,
And spoke the Dead to Life and Bloom again.
His Miracles, thy Work; their Glory, thine:
Then, O thou dearest Attribute of God!
Thy saving Health to this thy Servant lend!
Hear, Mercy, sweetest Daughter of the Skies!”
Inclin'd upon a dewy-skirted Cloud
Purpled with Light, and dropping Fatness down,
Plenty and Bliss on Man, with looks as mild
As Ev'ning Suns (when flowry-footed May
Leads on the jocund Hours, when Love himself
Flutters in Green) effusing heart-felt Joy
Abundant, Mercy shone with sober Grace,
And Majesty at once with Sweetness mix'd
Ineffable. A Rainbow o'er her Head,
The Covenant of God, betok'ning Peace
'Twixt Heav'n and Earth, its florid Arch display'd,
High-bended by th' Almighty's glorious Hand;
The Languish of the Dove upon her Eyes
In placid Radiance melted, from the Throne
Of Grace infus'd, and fed with Light: her Smiles
Expansive cheer'd the undetermin'd Tracks
Of all Creation, from th' æthereal Cope,
August with moving Fires, down to the Shades
Infernal; and the Reign of Darkness drear.
Ev'n Men refine to Angels from her gaze,
Gracious, invigorating, full of Heav'n!
Purpled with Light, and dropping Fatness down,
Plenty and Bliss on Man, with looks as mild
As Ev'ning Suns (when flowry-footed May
Leads on the jocund Hours, when Love himself
Flutters in Green) effusing heart-felt Joy
Abundant, Mercy shone with sober Grace,
And Majesty at once with Sweetness mix'd
Ineffable. A Rainbow o'er her Head,
The Covenant of God, betok'ning Peace
'Twixt Heav'n and Earth, its florid Arch display'd,
274
The Languish of the Dove upon her Eyes
In placid Radiance melted, from the Throne
Of Grace infus'd, and fed with Light: her Smiles
Expansive cheer'd the undetermin'd Tracks
Of all Creation, from th' æthereal Cope,
August with moving Fires, down to the Shades
Infernal; and the Reign of Darkness drear.
Ev'n Men refine to Angels from her gaze,
Gracious, invigorating, full of Heav'n!
This Daughter of the Lamb, to fervent Pray'rs
And Intercession, opes her ready Ear,
Compassionate; and to Hygeia thus:
“Hygeia, hie thee to the Well of Life;
There dip thy Fingers; touch his Head and Breast;
Three Drops into his Mouth infuse, unseen,
Save by the Eye of Faith: he yonder lies—
Descend, and take the Ev'ning's western Wing.”
And Intercession, opes her ready Ear,
Compassionate; and to Hygeia thus:
“Hygeia, hie thee to the Well of Life;
There dip thy Fingers; touch his Head and Breast;
Three Drops into his Mouth infuse, unseen,
Save by the Eye of Faith: he yonder lies—
Descend, and take the Ev'ning's western Wing.”
275
She said. Hygeia bow'd; and bowing, fill'd
The circumambient Air with od'rous Streams,
Pure Essence of Ambrosia! Not the Breath
Of Lebanon, from Cedar Allies blown,
Of Lebanon, with aromatick Gales
Luxuriant, Spikenard, Aloes, Myrrh and Balm;
Nor the wise Eastern Monarch's Garden vy'd
In Fragrance, when his fair Circassian Spouse,
Enamour'd, call'd upon the South to fan
It's Beds of Spices, and her Bosom cool,
Panting with Languishment and love-sick Fires.
The circumambient Air with od'rous Streams,
Pure Essence of Ambrosia! Not the Breath
Of Lebanon, from Cedar Allies blown,
Of Lebanon, with aromatick Gales
Luxuriant, Spikenard, Aloes, Myrrh and Balm;
Nor the wise Eastern Monarch's Garden vy'd
In Fragrance, when his fair Circassian Spouse,
Enamour'd, call'd upon the South to fan
It's Beds of Spices, and her Bosom cool,
Panting with Languishment and love-sick Fires.
Forth from th' eternal Throne the Well of Life,
Pouring its Crystal, laves the Streets of God,
(Where Sickness never comes, nor Age, nor Pain)
Fast-trickling o'er the Pebble-Gems. Beneath
Unfading Amarant and Asphodel,
A Mirrour spreads its many-colour'd Round,
Mosaick-work, inlaid by Hands divine
In glist'ring Rows, illuminating each,
Each shading: Beryl, Topaz, Chalcedon,
Em'rald and Amethyst. Whatever Hues
The Light reflects, celestial Quarries yield,
Or melt into the vernant-showry Bow,
Profusive, vary here in mingling Beams.
Collected thus the Waters, dimpling, end
Their soft-progressive Lapse. The Cherubs hence
Immortal Vigour quaff and Bliss unblam'd.
Nor only flow for you, ye Sons of Light,
The Streams of Comfort and of Life, but flow
To heal the Nations. Wonderful to tell,
The aged they renew, the dead revive,
And more, the Festers of the wounded Soul,
Corrupted, black, to pristine White relume
Cicero de Leg. Lib. ii. ------Ante aras stat veste Sacerdos
Effulgens nivea.
Silius Ital. Lib. iii. Delius hic longè candenti veste Sacerdos
Occurrit.
Valerius Flacc. Lib. ii.
Fast. Lib. ii.
And Saint-like Innocence. The mystic Dove
Broods, purifying o'er them, with his Wings.
The Angel, who Bethesda's troubled Pool
Stirr'd, first his Pinions with these vital Drops
Sprinkled; then pour'd himself into the Flood,
Instilling Health and Nutriment divine,
Its waves to quicken, and exalt its Pow'rs.
Pouring its Crystal, laves the Streets of God,
(Where Sickness never comes, nor Age, nor Pain)
Fast-trickling o'er the Pebble-Gems. Beneath
Unfading Amarant and Asphodel,
A Mirrour spreads its many-colour'd Round,
Mosaick-work, inlaid by Hands divine
In glist'ring Rows, illuminating each,
Each shading: Beryl, Topaz, Chalcedon,
276
The Light reflects, celestial Quarries yield,
Or melt into the vernant-showry Bow,
Profusive, vary here in mingling Beams.
Collected thus the Waters, dimpling, end
Their soft-progressive Lapse. The Cherubs hence
Immortal Vigour quaff and Bliss unblam'd.
Nor only flow for you, ye Sons of Light,
The Streams of Comfort and of Life, but flow
To heal the Nations. Wonderful to tell,
The aged they renew, the dead revive,
And more, the Festers of the wounded Soul,
Corrupted, black, to pristine White relume
White has been accounted in all Ages the peculiar Tincture of Innocence, and white Vestments worn by Persons delegated for sacred Offices, &c. When our Saviour was transfigured before his Disciples, his Raiment became shining, exceeding white as Snow, Mark, chap. ix. 3. When he ascended into Heaven, the Angels descended in white Apparel, Acts i. 10. And to the Spouse of the Lamb was granted that she should be array'd in fine Linen, clean and white, which is the Righteousness of the Saints, Rev. xix. ver. 8, 14. Hence the Custom of the primitive Church of Cloathing the Persons baptized in white Garments.
Inde Parens sacro ducens de fonte Sacerdos
Infantes, niveo corpore, mente, habitu.
Paulinus, Epist. xii.
Infantes, niveo corpore, mente, habitu.
The Heathens paid likewise a great Regard to White:
Color albus præcipuè Deo charus est.Cicero de Leg. Lib. ii. ------Ante aras stat veste Sacerdos
Effulgens nivea.
Silius Ital. Lib. iii. Delius hic longè candenti veste Sacerdos
Occurrit.
Valerius Flacc. Lib. ii.
And not only the Priests, but likewise those who attended at the Sacrifices and paid their Devotions to their Gods:
Cernite fulgentes ut eat sacer agnus ad aras,
Tinctaque pòst oleâ candida Turba comas.
Tibull. Lib. ii. Eleg. 1.
Tinctaque pòst oleâ candida Turba comas.
And Ovid:
Linguis candida Turba favet.Fast. Lib. ii.
I shall only add one Passage, from Plautus:
------Ergo æquius vos erat
Candidatas venire, hostiatasque ad hoc
Fanum.
Rudens. Act. i. Sc. 5.
Candidatas venire, hostiatasque ad hoc
Fanum.
And Saint-like Innocence. The mystic Dove
Broods, purifying o'er them, with his Wings.
The Angel, who Bethesda's troubled Pool
Stirr'd, first his Pinions with these vital Drops
Sprinkled; then pour'd himself into the Flood,
Instilling Health and Nutriment divine,
Its waves to quicken, and exalt its Pow'rs.
277
Here lights Hygeia, ardent to fulfil
Mercy's Behest. The Bloom of Paradise
Liv'd on her youthful Cheek, and glow'd the Spring.
The deep Carnations in the Eastern Skies,
When ruddy Morning walks along the Hills,
Illustriously red, in purple Dews,
Are languid to her Blushes; for She blush'd
As through the op'ning File of winged Flames,
Bounding, she lightned, and her sapphire Eyes
With modest Lustre bright, improving Heav'n,
Cast, sweetly, round, and bow'd to her Compeers,
An Angel amid Angels. Light she sprung
Along th' empyreal Road: Her Locks distill'd
Salubrious Spirit on the Stars. Full soon
She pass'd the Gate of Pearl, and down the Sky,
Præcipitant, upon the Ev'ning-Wing
Cleaves the live Æther, and with healthy Balm
Impregnates, and Fœcundity of Sweets.
Mercy's Behest. The Bloom of Paradise
Liv'd on her youthful Cheek, and glow'd the Spring.
The deep Carnations in the Eastern Skies,
When ruddy Morning walks along the Hills,
Illustriously red, in purple Dews,
Are languid to her Blushes; for She blush'd
As through the op'ning File of winged Flames,
Bounding, she lightned, and her sapphire Eyes
With modest Lustre bright, improving Heav'n,
Cast, sweetly, round, and bow'd to her Compeers,
An Angel amid Angels. Light she sprung
Along th' empyreal Road: Her Locks distill'd
Salubrious Spirit on the Stars. Full soon
She pass'd the Gate of Pearl, and down the Sky,
Præcipitant, upon the Ev'ning-Wing
Cleaves the live Æther, and with healthy Balm
Impregnates, and Fœcundity of Sweets.
Conscious of her Approach, the wanton Birds,
Instinctive, carol forth, in livelier Lays,
And merrier Melody, their grateful Hymn,
Brisk-flutt'ring to the Breeze. Eftsoons the Hills,
Beneath the Gambols of the Lamb and Kid,
Of petulant Delight, the circling Maze
(Brush'd off its Dews) betray. All Nature smiles,
With double Day delighted. Chief, on Man
The Goddess ray'd herself: He, wond'ring, feels
His Heart in driving Tumults, vig'rous, leap,
And gushing Ecstasy: bursts out his Tongue
In Laud, and unpremeditated Song,
Obedient to the Musick in his Veins.
Thus, when at first, the instantaneous Light
Sprung from the Voice of God, and, vivid, threw
Its golden Mantle round the rising Ball,
The cumb'rous Mass, shot through with vital Warmth
And plastick Energy, to motion roll'd
The drowzy Elements, and active Rule:
Sudden the Morning Stars, together, sang,
And shouted all the Sons of God for Joy.
Instinctive, carol forth, in livelier Lays,
278
Brisk-flutt'ring to the Breeze. Eftsoons the Hills,
Beneath the Gambols of the Lamb and Kid,
Of petulant Delight, the circling Maze
(Brush'd off its Dews) betray. All Nature smiles,
With double Day delighted. Chief, on Man
The Goddess ray'd herself: He, wond'ring, feels
His Heart in driving Tumults, vig'rous, leap,
And gushing Ecstasy: bursts out his Tongue
In Laud, and unpremeditated Song,
Obedient to the Musick in his Veins.
Thus, when at first, the instantaneous Light
Sprung from the Voice of God, and, vivid, threw
Its golden Mantle round the rising Ball,
The cumb'rous Mass, shot through with vital Warmth
And plastick Energy, to motion roll'd
The drowzy Elements, and active Rule:
Sudden the Morning Stars, together, sang,
And shouted all the Sons of God for Joy.
279
Enters Hygeia, and her Task performs,
With healing Fingers touch'd my Breast and Head;
Three Drops into my Mouth infus'd, unseen,
Save by the Eye of Faith: Then re-ascends.
With healing Fingers touch'd my Breast and Head;
Three Drops into my Mouth infus'd, unseen,
Save by the Eye of Faith: Then re-ascends.
As Snow in Salmon, at the tepid Touch
Of southern Gales, by soft Degrees, dissolves
Trickling, yet slow, away; and loosen'd Frosts
The genial Impress feel of vernal Suns,
Relenting to the Ray; my torpid limbs
The Healing Virtue of Hygeia's Hand
And salutary Influence perceive,
Instant to wander through the whole. My Heart
Begins to melt, o'er-running into Joy,
Late froze with Agony. Kind Tumults seize
My Spirits, conscious of returning Health,
And dire Disease abating from the Cells
And mazy Haunts of Life. The judging Leech
Approves the Symptoms, and my Hope allows.
Of southern Gales, by soft Degrees, dissolves
Trickling, yet slow, away; and loosen'd Frosts
The genial Impress feel of vernal Suns,
Relenting to the Ray; my torpid limbs
The Healing Virtue of Hygeia's Hand
And salutary Influence perceive,
Instant to wander through the whole. My Heart
Begins to melt, o'er-running into Joy,
Late froze with Agony. Kind Tumults seize
My Spirits, conscious of returning Health,
And dire Disease abating from the Cells
And mazy Haunts of Life. The judging Leech
Approves the Symptoms, and my Hope allows.
280
The hostile Humours cease to bubble o'er
Their big-distended Channels; quiet now
And sinking into Peace. The Organs heave
Kindlier with Life: And Nature's Fabrick near
To Dissolution shatter'd, and its Mould
To Dust dissolv'd, tho' not its pristine Strength
(The lusty Vigour of its healthy Prime)
Yet gentle Force recovers; to maintain,
Against the Tyrant-Death's batt'ring Assaults.
The Fort of Life.—But Darkness, present still,
And absent sweet Repose, best Med'cine, Sleep,
Forbid by Heart the full Carouse of Joy.
Their big-distended Channels; quiet now
And sinking into Peace. The Organs heave
Kindlier with Life: And Nature's Fabrick near
To Dissolution shatter'd, and its Mould
To Dust dissolv'd, tho' not its pristine Strength
(The lusty Vigour of its healthy Prime)
Yet gentle Force recovers; to maintain,
Against the Tyrant-Death's batt'ring Assaults.
The Fort of Life.—But Darkness, present still,
And absent sweet Repose, best Med'cine, Sleep,
Forbid by Heart the full Carouse of Joy.
“Soft Pow'r of Slumbers, dewy-feather'd Sleep,
Kind Nurse of Nature! whither art thou fled,
A Stranger to my Senses, weary'd out
With Pain, and aking for thy Presence? Come,
O come! embrace me in thy liquid Arms;
Exert thy drowzy Virtue, wrap my Limbs
In downy Indolence, and bathe in Balm,
Fast-flowing from th' Abundance of thy Horn,
With Nourishment replete, and richer stor'd
Than Amalthea's;
who (so Poets feign)
With Honey and with Milk supply'd a God,
And fed the Thunderer. Indulgent quit
Thy Couch of Poppies! steal thyself on me,
(In rory Mists suffus'd and Clouds of Gold)
On me, thou mildest Cordial of the World?
Kind Nurse of Nature! whither art thou fled,
A Stranger to my Senses, weary'd out
With Pain, and aking for thy Presence? Come,
O come! embrace me in thy liquid Arms;
Exert thy drowzy Virtue, wrap my Limbs
In downy Indolence, and bathe in Balm,
Fast-flowing from th' Abundance of thy Horn,
281
Than Amalthea's;
Amalthea the Daughter of Melissus King of Crete, and Nurse of Jupiter, who fed him with Goats-Milk and Honey. But this Story is differently related. See Strabo, l. x. Diodor. Sicul. l. iv. c. 5. and Ovid. Fast. l. v. It is very remarkable that the Translation of the Septuagint uses the Expression Amalthea's Horn, for the Name of Job's third Daughter Keren-happuc (so called from her Beauty) alluding to a Grecian Fable invented long after; Job ch. the last, ver. 14. The same Translation likewise mentions Arachne in the ninetieth Psalm, and 9th Verse, which Image is left out in all our late Versions. A Christian Poet therefore may surely be excused for using the Word Ambrosia, &c. or drawing Metaphors or Comparisons from the Pagan Mythology in a serious Composition; which is the Practice of Milton and some of the best Poets. The Fault only is, when the Poet weaves the Heathen Fables with the Jewish and Christian Truths. As when Sannazarius introduces the Furies, Cerberus, &c. into his Poem (which is otherwise a very fine one) De Partu Virginis. And likewise when Camoens blends the Adventures of Bacchus with the Miracles of Christ, &c. in his Lusiad. But this by the by.
With Honey and with Milk supply'd a God,
And fed the Thunderer. Indulgent quit
Thy Couch of Poppies! steal thyself on me,
(In rory Mists suffus'd and Clouds of Gold)
On me, thou mildest Cordial of the World?
The Shield his Pillow, in the tented Field,
By Thee, the Soldier, bred in Iron-war,
Forgets the mimick Thunders of the Day,
Nor envies Luxury her Bed of Down.
Rock'd by the Blast, and cabbin'd in the Storm,
The Sailor huggs Thee to the doddering Mast,
Of Shipwreck negligent, while Thou art kind.
The Captive's Freedom, Thou! the Labourer's Hire;
The Beggar's Store; the Miser's better Gold;
The Health of Sickness; and the Youth of Age!
At thy Approach the wrinkled Front of Care
Subsides into the smooth Expanse of Smiles.
And, stranger far! the Monarch, crown'd by Thee,
Beneath his Weight of Glory gains Repose.
By Thee, the Soldier, bred in Iron-war,
Forgets the mimick Thunders of the Day,
Nor envies Luxury her Bed of Down.
Rock'd by the Blast, and cabbin'd in the Storm,
The Sailor huggs Thee to the doddering Mast,
Of Shipwreck negligent, while Thou art kind.
The Captive's Freedom, Thou! the Labourer's Hire;
The Beggar's Store; the Miser's better Gold;
The Health of Sickness; and the Youth of Age!
At thy Approach the wrinkled Front of Care
Subsides into the smooth Expanse of Smiles.
282
Beneath his Weight of Glory gains Repose.
What Guilt is mine, that I alone am wake,
Ev'n tho' my Eyes are seal'd, am wake alone?
Ah seal'd, but not by Thee! The World is dumb;
Exhal'd by Air, an awful Silence rules,
Still as thy Brother's Reign, or Foot of Time;
Ev'n Nightingales are mute, and Lovers rest,
Steep'd in thy Influence, and cease to sigh,
Or only sigh in Slumbers. Fifteen Nights
The Moon has walk'd in Glory o'er the Sky;
As oft the Sun has shone her from the Sphere,
Since, gentle Sleep, I felt thy cordial Dews.
Then listen to my Moaning; nor delay
To sooth me with thy Softness; to o'ershade
Thy Suppliant with thy Pinions: or at least,
Lightly to touch my Temples with thy Wand.
Ev'n tho' my Eyes are seal'd, am wake alone?
Ah seal'd, but not by Thee! The World is dumb;
Exhal'd by Air, an awful Silence rules,
Still as thy Brother's Reign, or Foot of Time;
Ev'n Nightingales are mute, and Lovers rest,
Steep'd in thy Influence, and cease to sigh,
Or only sigh in Slumbers. Fifteen Nights
The Moon has walk'd in Glory o'er the Sky;
As oft the Sun has shone her from the Sphere,
Since, gentle Sleep, I felt thy cordial Dews.
Then listen to my Moaning; nor delay
To sooth me with thy Softness; to o'ershade
Thy Suppliant with thy Pinions: or at least,
Lightly to touch my Temples with thy Wand.
So, full and frequent, may the crimson Fields
With Poppies blush, nor feel a Tarquin's Hand.
So may the West-Wind's Sigh, th' murm'ring Brook,
The Melody of Birds, Ianthe's Lute,
And Musick of the Spheres, be all the Sounds
That dare intrude on thy devoted Hour.
Nor Boreas bluster, nor the Thunder roar,
Nor Screech-Owl flap his Wing, nor Spirit yell,
As 'neath the Trembling of the Moon he walks,
Within the Circle of thy still Domain.
He comes! he comes! the reconciling Pow'r
Of Pain, Vexation, Care, and Anguish comes!
He hovers in the lazy Air:—He melts,
With Honey-heaviness, my Senses down.—
With Poppies blush, nor feel a Tarquin's Hand.
283
The Melody of Birds, Ianthe's Lute,
And Musick of the Spheres, be all the Sounds
That dare intrude on thy devoted Hour.
Nor Boreas bluster, nor the Thunder roar,
Nor Screech-Owl flap his Wing, nor Spirit yell,
As 'neath the Trembling of the Moon he walks,
Within the Circle of thy still Domain.
He comes! he comes! the reconciling Pow'r
Of Pain, Vexation, Care, and Anguish comes!
He hovers in the lazy Air:—He melts,
With Honey-heaviness, my Senses down.—
—I thank thee, Sleep!—Heav'ns! is the Day restor'd
To my desiring Eyes? their Lids, unglew'd,
Admit the long-lost Light, now streaming in
Painfully clear!—O check the rapid Gleam
With shading Silk, 'till the weak visual Orb,
Stronger and stronger, dares imbibe the Sun,
Nor, wat'ring, twinkles at unfolded Day.
As, where, in Lapland, Night collects her Reign,
Oppressive, over half the rounded Year
Uninterrupted with one struggling Beam;
Young Orra-Moor, in furry Spoils inroll'd,
Shagged and warm, first spies th' imperfect Blush
Of op'ning Light, exulting; scarce her Eyes
The Lustre bear, tho' faint; but, wid'ning fast
Th' unbounded Tide of Splendor covers, fair,
Th' expanded Hemisphere; and fills her Sight
With Gladness, while her Heart, warm-leaping, burns.
To my desiring Eyes? their Lids, unglew'd,
Admit the long-lost Light, now streaming in
Painfully clear!—O check the rapid Gleam
With shading Silk, 'till the weak visual Orb,
Stronger and stronger, dares imbibe the Sun,
Nor, wat'ring, twinkles at unfolded Day.
As, where, in Lapland, Night collects her Reign,
284
Uninterrupted with one struggling Beam;
Young Orra-Moor, in furry Spoils inroll'd,
Shagged and warm, first spies th' imperfect Blush
Of op'ning Light, exulting; scarce her Eyes
The Lustre bear, tho' faint; but, wid'ning fast
Th' unbounded Tide of Splendor covers, fair,
Th' expanded Hemisphere; and fills her Sight
With Gladness, while her Heart, warm-leaping, burns.
Sight, all-expressive! Tho' the feeling Sense
Thrills from Ianthe's Hand; at Handel's Lyre
Tingles the Ear; tho' Smell from blossom'd Beans
Arabian Spirit gathers; and the Draught,
Sparkling from Burgundy's exalted Vines,
Streams Nectar on the Palate: Yet, O Sight!
Weak their Sensations, when compar'd with Thee.
Without Thee, Nature lies unmeaning Gloom.
Whatever smiles on Earth, or shines in Heav'n,
From Star of Venus to Adonis Flow'r;
Whatever Spring can promise; Summer warm
To rich Maturity; gay Autumn roll
Into the Lap of Plenty, or her Horn;
Winter's majestic Horrors;—all are Thine.
All varying in Order's pleasing Round,
In regular Confusion grateful All!
Thrills from Ianthe's Hand; at Handel's Lyre
Tingles the Ear; tho' Smell from blossom'd Beans
Arabian Spirit gathers; and the Draught,
Sparkling from Burgundy's exalted Vines,
Streams Nectar on the Palate: Yet, O Sight!
Weak their Sensations, when compar'd with Thee.
Without Thee, Nature lies unmeaning Gloom.
Whatever smiles on Earth, or shines in Heav'n,
From Star of Venus to Adonis Flow'r;
Whatever Spring can promise; Summer warm
285
Into the Lap of Plenty, or her Horn;
Winter's majestic Horrors;—all are Thine.
All varying in Order's pleasing Round,
In regular Confusion grateful All!
And now progressive Health, with kind Repair,
My fever-weaken'd Joints and languid Limbs
New-brace. Live Vigour and auxiliar'd Nerves
Sinew the freshen'd Frame in Bands of Steel.
As in the Trial of the furnace Ore,
From baser Dregs refin'd, and drossy Scum,
Flames more refulgent, and admits the Stamp
Of Majesty to dignify the Gold,
Cæsar or George! the human Body, thus,
Enamel'd, not deform'd, from Sickness' Rage
More manly Features borrows, and a Grace
Severe, yet worthier of its Sovereign Form.
The Patriarch of Uz, Son of the Morn,
Envy'd of Lucifer, by Sores and Blanes
Sharply improv'd, to fairer Honours rose;
Less his Beginning blest than latter End.
How late a tortur'd-Lump of baleful Pain,
The Soul immerg'd in one inactive Mass
Of breathing Blanes, each Elegance of Sense,
Each intellectual Spark and fiery Seed
Of Reason, Mem'ry, Judgment, Taste and Wit,
Extinct and smother'd in unwieldy Clay
Scarce animated: and (O Blessing!) now
I seem to tread the Winds; to overtake
The empty Eagle in her early Chase,
Or nimble-trembling Dove, from preyful Beak,
In many a rapid, many a cautious Round,
Wheeling precipitant: I leave behind,
Exulting o'er its aromatic Hills,
The bounding Bether-Roe. The Poet's Mind,
(Effluence essential of Heat and Light!)
Not mounts a loftier Wing, when Fancy leads
The glitt'ring Track, and points him to the Skies,
Excursive: He empyreal Air inhales,
Earth fading from his Flight! triumphant soars
Amid the Pomp of Planetary Worlds,
Ranging Infinitude, beyond the Stretch
Of Newton's Ken, Reformer of the Spheres,
And, gaining on the Heav'ns, enjoys His Home!
My fever-weaken'd Joints and languid Limbs
New-brace. Live Vigour and auxiliar'd Nerves
Sinew the freshen'd Frame in Bands of Steel.
As in the Trial of the furnace Ore,
From baser Dregs refin'd, and drossy Scum,
Flames more refulgent, and admits the Stamp
Of Majesty to dignify the Gold,
Cæsar or George! the human Body, thus,
Enamel'd, not deform'd, from Sickness' Rage
More manly Features borrows, and a Grace
Severe, yet worthier of its Sovereign Form.
The Patriarch of Uz, Son of the Morn,
Envy'd of Lucifer, by Sores and Blanes
Sharply improv'd, to fairer Honours rose;
286
How late a tortur'd-Lump of baleful Pain,
The Soul immerg'd in one inactive Mass
Of breathing Blanes, each Elegance of Sense,
Each intellectual Spark and fiery Seed
Of Reason, Mem'ry, Judgment, Taste and Wit,
Extinct and smother'd in unwieldy Clay
Scarce animated: and (O Blessing!) now
I seem to tread the Winds; to overtake
The empty Eagle in her early Chase,
Or nimble-trembling Dove, from preyful Beak,
In many a rapid, many a cautious Round,
Wheeling precipitant: I leave behind,
Exulting o'er its aromatic Hills,
The bounding Bether-Roe. The Poet's Mind,
(Effluence essential of Heat and Light!)
Not mounts a loftier Wing, when Fancy leads
The glitt'ring Track, and points him to the Skies,
Excursive: He empyreal Air inhales,
Earth fading from his Flight! triumphant soars
Amid the Pomp of Planetary Worlds,
287
Of Newton's Ken, Reformer of the Spheres,
And, gaining on the Heav'ns, enjoys His Home!
The Winter of Disease all pass'd away,
The Spring of Health, in bloomy Pride, calls forth
Embosom'd Bliss, of rosy-winged Praise
The rising Incense, the impassion'd Glance
Of Gratitude, the Pant of Honour, quick
With emulating Zeal; the florid Wish
For sacred Happiness, and cordial Glow
From conscious Virtue felt: all the sweet Train
Of Vernal Solitude's refining Walks,
Best Gift of Heav'n, and Source of nameless Joys!
The Spring of Health, in bloomy Pride, calls forth
Embosom'd Bliss, of rosy-winged Praise
The rising Incense, the impassion'd Glance
Of Gratitude, the Pant of Honour, quick
With emulating Zeal; the florid Wish
For sacred Happiness, and cordial Glow
From conscious Virtue felt: all the sweet Train
Of Vernal Solitude's refining Walks,
Best Gift of Heav'n, and Source of nameless Joys!
The End of the Fourth Book.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |