The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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| III. | CANTO III. |
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
CANTO III.
My course pursue, while I, unerring, guide
Thy wat'ry way o'er Envy's wrecking tide;
Where plies a grisly ferryman his bark,
Whose sails are scandals, and surmises dark,
That wing with swiftest flight the liquid plain,
But plunge poor wretches in the sable main,
While anxious friends in vain may strive to save,
And innocence scarce struggles with the wave;
For at one dash the winds of malice urge
The fainting carcase with the boiling surge,
And the most gallant vessel, soonest lost,
With shatter'd trophies strews Contention's coast.
Yet now we're past: the billows rage no more,
And bless'd Perfection gains the welcome shore.
O'er yonder realm the nymph Indifference reigns,
Queen of all ancient prudes, and silly swains,
She views without emotion navies sink,
And trav'llers stand on deep Destruction's brink;
Deep learn'd in French, though seldom seen in France,
She tattles of sans froid and nonchalance;
And when her lovers die, with modest air
And flippant phrase she sighs: “The de'l may care.”
Pride is her worthy minister of state;
Bold Fashion now exalts her plumed pate;
And Routs, quaint daughters of old Madam Spleen!
Are maids of honour to the well-lov'd Queen.
Philosophy here studies toys of brass;
The art Linnean pores on braided grass,
And Poetry too rhymes with half an eye,
“Indifferent in her choice, to print or die;”
While mild Critique, with pigeon-heart essays
A panegyric on the poorest lays;
Nor minds, with milk of human kindness full,
Whether the work is eminent or dull.
Thy wat'ry way o'er Envy's wrecking tide;
Where plies a grisly ferryman his bark,
Whose sails are scandals, and surmises dark,
That wing with swiftest flight the liquid plain,
But plunge poor wretches in the sable main,
While anxious friends in vain may strive to save,
And innocence scarce struggles with the wave;
For at one dash the winds of malice urge
The fainting carcase with the boiling surge,
And the most gallant vessel, soonest lost,
With shatter'd trophies strews Contention's coast.
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And bless'd Perfection gains the welcome shore.
O'er yonder realm the nymph Indifference reigns,
Queen of all ancient prudes, and silly swains,
She views without emotion navies sink,
And trav'llers stand on deep Destruction's brink;
Deep learn'd in French, though seldom seen in France,
She tattles of sans froid and nonchalance;
And when her lovers die, with modest air
And flippant phrase she sighs: “The de'l may care.”
Pride is her worthy minister of state;
Bold Fashion now exalts her plumed pate;
And Routs, quaint daughters of old Madam Spleen!
Are maids of honour to the well-lov'd Queen.
Philosophy here studies toys of brass;
The art Linnean pores on braided grass,
And Poetry too rhymes with half an eye,
“Indifferent in her choice, to print or die;”
While mild Critique, with pigeon-heart essays
A panegyric on the poorest lays;
Nor minds, with milk of human kindness full,
Whether the work is eminent or dull.
We've cross'd her kingdom now; for, lo! I see
Our wish'd-for end, the shrine of Sympathy.
Ledinia, mark what various figures stand
Obedient to the sculptor's forming hand:
Some weep, reclining o'er a wreathed urn,
Some in dumb agony expressive mourn;
While some, in dire extravagance of woe,
Bid from the marble trickling torrents flow.
Our wish'd-for end, the shrine of Sympathy.
Ledinia, mark what various figures stand
Obedient to the sculptor's forming hand:
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Some in dumb agony expressive mourn;
While some, in dire extravagance of woe,
Bid from the marble trickling torrents flow.
Behold yon prospect of excelling grief,
Where destitute of any kind relief
A lovely damsel, in the bloom of age,
Languid resigns her to the ocean's rage,
Till a fond youth from the tremendous steep
Despairing plunges on the flashing deep,
And while the humid sparkles gleam around,
To save her drowning, is himself the drown'd!
Clasp'd in embrace the hapless lovers lie,
While o'er their cold grave sobbing zephyrs sigh.
Where destitute of any kind relief
A lovely damsel, in the bloom of age,
Languid resigns her to the ocean's rage,
Till a fond youth from the tremendous steep
Despairing plunges on the flashing deep,
And while the humid sparkles gleam around,
To save her drowning, is himself the drown'd!
Clasp'd in embrace the hapless lovers lie,
While o'er their cold grave sobbing zephyrs sigh.
Through the red ruins of the ruthless flame,
To save his friend, along yon burning beam
How forces Edward his resistless way,
While death's dire forms th'heroic deed repay?
To save his friend, along yon burning beam
How forces Edward his resistless way,
While death's dire forms th'heroic deed repay?
But, oh! where Calpe's hideous heights arise,
Where conflagration mingles with the skies,
There Sympathy erects her lofty throne,
And claims the godlike Britons for her own,
While through the ruddy war they rush to save
The fainting Spaniards from the fiery wave.
Where conflagration mingles with the skies,
There Sympathy erects her lofty throne,
And claims the godlike Britons for her own,
While through the ruddy war they rush to save
The fainting Spaniards from the fiery wave.
Hail, sacred passion! hail, celestial glow,
That lends the hand of mercy to a foe;
That nobly ardent, with a gen'rous flame,
Mak'st friendship and hostility the same;
That shew'st the thoughts of an exalted breast,
Where Nature's self benignant stands confess'd!
Long may men cherish the immortal heat,
While soft souls feel themselves more truly great!
That lends the hand of mercy to a foe;
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Mak'st friendship and hostility the same;
That shew'st the thoughts of an exalted breast,
Where Nature's self benignant stands confess'd!
Long may men cherish the immortal heat,
While soft souls feel themselves more truly great!
On that pure throne, magnetic structure, where
Sweet Sympathy is seated, charming fair,
Thine eye-balls turn, and view the needle roll,
True to her heart as to the faithful pole:
“She speaks to thee!” mild Ariel rejoin'd,
(For so the fay was titled by mankind.)
“Blest Queen,” the alter'd belle extatic cry'd,
“Blest Queen, my pensive joy, my bosom's pride,
To thy best pow'r I bow, to thee import
The sway, the conquest of my milden'd heart.
For thee I bid the giddy world farewel,
For thee who all the tricks of ton excel;
And take, my varied turn of mind to prove,
The man of merit to my constant love.
Come, Henry, come.”—“Enough,” the sprite exclaim'd,
Thy soul the fire of Pity has inflam'd;
Thy humid eye with tears the goddess arms,
And gives new graces to thy bright'ning charms.
My charge is o'er.” He said, and stole away,
Forth from the hollow bracelet where he lay.
Quick when he flew, a band of sylphids rear
The beaming sorcery sublime in air;
And as it rose, in jewell'd letters flame,
Those words divine around the glitt'ring frame,
“From this device, unfeeling mortals learn,
That Pity always must to Goodness turn.”
Sweet Sympathy is seated, charming fair,
Thine eye-balls turn, and view the needle roll,
True to her heart as to the faithful pole:
“She speaks to thee!” mild Ariel rejoin'd,
(For so the fay was titled by mankind.)
“Blest Queen,” the alter'd belle extatic cry'd,
“Blest Queen, my pensive joy, my bosom's pride,
To thy best pow'r I bow, to thee import
The sway, the conquest of my milden'd heart.
For thee I bid the giddy world farewel,
For thee who all the tricks of ton excel;
And take, my varied turn of mind to prove,
The man of merit to my constant love.
Come, Henry, come.”—“Enough,” the sprite exclaim'd,
Thy soul the fire of Pity has inflam'd;
Thy humid eye with tears the goddess arms,
And gives new graces to thy bright'ning charms.
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Forth from the hollow bracelet where he lay.
Quick when he flew, a band of sylphids rear
The beaming sorcery sublime in air;
And as it rose, in jewell'd letters flame,
Those words divine around the glitt'ring frame,
“From this device, unfeeling mortals learn,
That Pity always must to Goodness turn.”
| The Harp of Erin | |