Poems by William Kendall | ||
INVOCATION To LAURA.
To calm the swelling tide of woe,
And where the clouds of sorrow lour
To bid the gales of pleasure blow;
A trembling lover wakes the lay;
For thee, in songs of soft desire
His soul impassion'd melts away.
Approve the measures as they flow:
Thy praise can give eternal fame,
Thy smile eternal bliss bestow!
ELEGIAC STANZAS.
Questi sospiri ardenti
Refrigerio del cuore;
Ma son piuttosto impetuosi venti
Che spiran nel incendio, e'l fan maggiore
Con turbini d'amore.
I. SONG.
Her shadows pale sorrow has thrown,
How soon from the glances of truth
Life's pleasing delusions are flown!
Bright visions illumine the air:
The mountains are clouded—the grove
Resounds with the voice of despair.
And gently deceive my fond mind;
For truth, while she hastens your flight,
Leaves torment unceasing behind!
II. SONG.
My cheek confess'd health's roseate bloom;
My soul, nor love nor sorrow knew—
How beauty's power hath changed my doom!
Wandering I mourn my secret pain:
The passing breeze, with lengthen'd sighs,
In pity murmurs to my strain.
My fears in silent slumber rest;
Now dreams that every thought beguile,
Serenely soothing, chear my breast.
Again tumultuous passions rise;
Again my tortured bosom burns,
And all the dear illusion flies!
III. To MUSIC.
Goddess, awake! dispel the storm.
What varied charms attend thy lay;
What calm delight thy notes serene
Diffuse, to chear life's lonely scene;
Let bards in lofty measures tell,
More skill'd to sound the muse's shell:
Let these, replete with lyric flame,
In rapturous verse exalt thy name,
Inspired with melting sweetness sing,
Or boldly sweep the fervid string.
Be mine an humbler wreath to gain—
To paint a fond enamour'd swain,
By passion's flattering dream betray'd,
Who flew to meet a yielding maid;
But, hapless, for his promis'd fair
Clasp'd the fell demon of despair!
Bright goddess, to record thy power.
Profusely pours her pensive beams
Along the valleys lonely way,
I see the love-lorn mourner stray.
Oft to the skies he turns his sight,
Invokes the living lamps of light,
Or throws convulsive glances round,
Or wildly gazes on the ground.
But ah! no tears bedew those eyes,
From that pale lip no murmur flies:
He faints—he falls! his languid breath
Hangs fluttering o'er the verge of death.
Till sorrow's wound no longer bleed!
Ætherial sounds sublimely rise.
The goddess hears,—she wakes the reed:
The wounds of sorrow cease to bleed;
Nights minstrel emulates the song.
Again her swelling voice prepares
Diviner measures, softer airs.
Swift from their haunts, on slender wing,
The Fairy bands delighted spring!
In crowds they fly—no lingering sprite
Of all the shadowy tribes of night,
In dripping cave, or mossy cell,
Remains to weave the wonted spell.
Retired within a veiling cloud
The listening Fays their numbers shroud;
And as the soaring song aspires
Return the strain with echoing lyres.
The wondrous scene thy lays unfold.
Enchantress! o'er that faded cheek
Serenely stealing tears bespeak
What lenient aid thy notes impart,
What balm to heal a wounded heart.
Grief's raging pang for thee subsides,
And passion checks his whelming tides.
Dispel the louring gloom of death:
He drinks thy spirit chearing note
And all his fears in Lethe float.
The lover's sorrow sinks to peace.
Assembled Elves! in close array
Your squadrons join, and haste away!
In dewy grot, or leafy bower,
With mystic dance consume the hour,
Till orient rays of ruddy light
Announce the falling reign of night.
Awhile farewell! I own thy sway:
My bosom feels thy sacred fire,
I bend obedient to thy lyre.
Lives there a wretch of rugged soul
Unaw'd by Music's soft controul?
Let love the senseless savage wound—
Ev'n he shall own the force of sound.
IV. SONG.
Languid accents, breathing woe,
Sighs of sorrow, throbbing fears—
Lovers, only lovers, know!
Feel awhile the storm of grief;
Hope affords a transient ray,
Fleeting pleasures yield relief.
Time can envy's self destroy:
But o'er love's neglected slave
Ages pass, nor waft a joy.
V. SONG.
Thy songs sincere unheeded pine,
Thy lays too deeply sigh:
Not all the mournful muse's art
Could ever win a woman's heart,
Or melt a scornful eye.
From every line let praises beam,
Divinely paint her charms:
Imperious beauty then may deign
With yielding smiles to meet her swain,
And bless his longing arms!
VI. SONG.
Whose gloom no sounds of joy infest;
Amid your sadly-silent shades
I seek the tranquil seat of rest.
Here let my loud lamenting close:
May no rude voice, no rustling wind
Disturb a mourners sweet repose!
These eyelids ope again to weep;
May death, dissolving sorrow's chain,
Reward my cares with endless sleep!
VII. To INSENSIBILITY.
To calm the restless powers of mind,
O thou, whose solitary sway
The passions' fury train obey;
Whose might, affliction's smiles confess,
Can blunt the dagger of distress:
Too long each agonizing smart
That wakes to woe the feeling heart,
Desponding thoughts and anxious fears
Have bathed these sleepless eyes in tears!
At length from fortune's rage I fly,
And breathe to thee my votive sigh:
Love's faithless shrine I seek no more,
Thee, thee alone my lays adore.
Destroy the tender bloom of life;
No blush on thy smooth cheek appears.
Dim as cool twilight's dawning ray,
E'er yet the vivid tints of day
With orient lustre gild the plains,
Thy never changing eye remains.
Eternal source of soft repose!
From thee nor joy nor sorrow flows:
'Tis thine, with opiate smiles, to tame
Despair's wild wave and envy's flame.
At thy approach, a mournful train,
Love's pining slaves forget their pain,
Or strive with tranquil soul to bear
The sting of heart-corroding care,
Till thou with lenient hand diffuse
On every wound thy balmy dews:
Then, feeling's tyrant reign is o'er
And hope and fear distract no more.
I woo thee with no fruitless vow.
I feel at length unwonted rest
Breathe slowly o'er my labouring breast.
Thus ever let my verse prevail;
Propitious thus my prayer attend
Till life, and pain, and terror end!
Should passion's storm again invade
The slumber of my peaceful shade,
Oh, shield me in thy sheltering arms,
Chase from my soul love's rude alarms;
Wave, gently wave thy magic wand—
In cold oblivion quench his brand!
At thy lov'd fane a languid lay;
Where (charm'd by softly soothing sound,
While listening swains her lyre surround;)
This placid strain shall ever flow:
“If aught can calm a lover's woe,
If aught the captive mind can free—
'Tis blest Insensibility!”
V. To LAURA.
When clouds and gather'd tempests rise;
And pale-eyed spectres urge their flight
In sullen pomp along the skies:
O'er the wide heath—my passing form
A mournful fleeting phantom seems,
A kindred spirit of the storm.
Frowns in the furrows of my cheek;
So sadly thro' the lurid air
My cries of piercing anguish break!
The mountain torrents hoarsely roar:
Unmoved amidst the winds I weep,
Amidst th' affrighted groves deplore.
And flocks and fearful shepherds start;
Yet no tumultuous scenes appal
A lost rejected lover's heart.
Can rushing torrents raise alarms;
With cruel speed while Laura flies
To bless a favour'd Rival's arms!
At the moment this sheet was printing off, the Poems of Mrs. Robinson were sent to the author by a friend. In page 123 of that elegant collection, is contained an answer to the above Elegy, entitled “Echo to him who complains.” The Elegy is stated by Mrs. R. to have appeared in the Oracle of the 25th of June, 1790, addressed to Laura, and signed ‘Ignotus.’ In a note on this signature, the writer is supposed to be Della Crusca. Sufficiently gratified by the flattering mistake and by the exquisite poem to which it has given rise, Mr. K. would not have mentioned this circumstance, had he not been anxious to prevent every suspicion of interfering with the literary property of Mr. Merry.
In the years 1789 and 1790, Mr. K. resided in London, where he wrote this Elegy. Having a particular reason to wish its insertion under the signature Ignotus, he left a copy himself at the Office of The World, where he was unknown. Not observing its appearance, he called a few days after, requesting the composition might be returned, but was informed it had been mislaid. How it came into The Oracle, he cannot explain.
The superior elegance of Mrs. Robinson's Echo, induces the author to present it to the reader, who will perceive a difference in the last stanza of the original Elegy, which in its primitive form, ended thus:
“Awakes the ruthless rage of pain?
“What terror bursting from the sky,
“Like Love distracts the tortur'd brain?”
A slight variation he imagines occurred also in other verses, but the rhimes were similar.
Where the loud tempests yelling rise;
Where horror wings her sullen flight
Beneath the bleak and lurid skies.
O'er the scorch'd wood, thy well-known form
More radiant than an angel seems,
Contending with the ruthless storm.
Drink the big tear that scalds thy cheek;
While thro' the dark and turbid air,
The screams of haggard Envy break.
I hear the dashing waters roar;
Ah! turn thee, turn thee, cease to weep,
Thou hast no reason to deplore.
See Envy from thy glances start;
No more shall howling blasts appall,
Or with'ring grief corrode thy heart.
Drops the fond balm for ev'ry pain
She comes, the offspring of the sky,
“To raze the troubles of the brain.”
IX. To FORTUNE.
With energy to madness wrought—
Burst wildly forth, ye songs of woe,
Ye lyric streams, tumultuous flow!
Of fate's desponding victims rise,
Where discord wakes her thrilling strain,
Where shrieks of war affright the plain;
Where clashing arms terrific shine—
To drench the field in blood be thine!
From scenes like these, avenger, say
What lures thy wandering steps away?
Dispel not thus the sacred charm
That soothed my slumbering soul's alarm,
Nor chase the vision of relief,
Nor whelm a wretch in tenfold grief!
Methought each sense of pain was lost:
Oblivious peace my sighs suppress'd,
And bade my fluttering pulses rest.
But rudely torn from languor's shrine,
O'erwhelm'd with grief, again I pine.
Peace wings afar her trackless flight—
New terrors rise: new fears affright!
The maid that erst awoke thy sighs:
Nor weeping love's unspotted truth,
Nor all the fervid prayers of youth,
Nor virtue's warmest wish could save
The bloom of beauty from the grave.”
Vibrate with more than mortal pains:
My shivering limbs, my visage pale,
Too well affirm the mournful tale.
Can airy phantoms now beguile?
The victor's palm, the poet's bay—
No blooming wreath my songs require,
No ray demand of heavenly fire.
For tearless eyes thy charms unfold,
Thy glittering piles of guilty gold;
Me wealth nor fame nor power can please—
All, all I ask is languid ease,
Lethargic hours from passion free,
Not joy but listless apathy!
To thee I raise my streaming eyes!
Shall life consum'd by slow decay
In lingering torment waste away?
Rouse all thy fury! swiftly shed
Heaven's fiercest horrors o'er my head!
Rend the frail texture of my frame,
With withering heat my blood inflame!
Let death approach with hurried pace
And clasp me in his cold embrace!
OCCASIONAL VERSES.
Picciole offerte si, ma pero tali
Che se con puro affetto il cor le dona
Anco il ciel non le sdegna.
I. To LAURA.
ON HER PORTRAIT.
She fails thy form to trace.
How faint reflected beauties glow,
How lifeless pictured grace!
Can looks of love display?
Impassion'd blushes, speaking eyes,
What pencil can pourtray?
How coldly colours shine?
Cold as they seem, they yet excel
All mortal charms but thine!
II. To DELIA.
The lingering moments of distress—
While taste refined and polish'd ease,
And grace and matchless beauty please;
So long th' enraptured muse shall raise
To Delia's name the song of praise!
For whom my bosom fondly bled,
For whom with unabating fire
My fervid lips still breathe desire)
More cruel seem'd time's swift career
Than when thy voice entranced my ear;
When wasting magic bliss around,
The harp awoke a plaintive sound;
When Delia's converse lull'd my woes,
And sorrow felt a short repose.
Can dissipate the rage of pain.
III. SONG.
The timid smile of youth;
My soul adored an artless maid,
I vow'd eternal truth.
The glow of summer spread
New beauties sparkled o'er her face—
But all my passion fled!
When morn's first blushes rise,
Than when the sun's maturer beam
Illumes meridian skies!
IV. To JULIA.
The secret shades of mind,
In thee, with ravish'd beam, beholds
A maid from vice refined!
Bespeaks a spotless breast:
The storms that cloud life's dreary scene
Have spared the seat of rest.
Nor darts malignant fire,
Thy modest smile disdains to raise
The tumult of desire.
Assert their fierce controul,
Inflame thy cheek with guilty red,
Or rudely rend thy soul.
Afford a firm defence,
Bright guardians of thine artless youth,
Thy maiden innocence.
Thee love himself reveres;
And when to bless th' exulting plain,
Thy tranquil form appears.
The light of beauty breaks;
Nor scorches with meridian heat
The lillies of thy cheeks.
The troubled streams of woe,
And gloomy terror's frantic tide
Awhile forgets to flow.
Stole all my joys away,
And gave my heart by passion torn
To fierce despair a prey;
Thy voice that breathes delight,
Have bade grief's frowning spectre fly,
And chear'd the gloom of night!
The flood of verse along,
For thee on daring pinions soar
Amid the blaze of song:
Hath torn the sweetest string;
And hopeless love's consuming fire
Hath scorch'd the muse's wing.
V. To MARIA.
On a favourite red-blossomed Thorn.
O'er Heaven's pale azure beam;
With purer lustre, lovely Thorn,
Thy rosy flowerets gleam.
With Mary's blush to vie:
Her blushes chear the wintery gloom
When all thy blossoms die!
VI. To Mr. JACKSON, Of Exeter.
Assuming, gains the steep of fame;
In deathless verse thy skill displays,
With magic sweetness sings thy praise:
Yet, minstrel of the Graces, hear
Unpolish'd songs tho' rude, sincere.
The muse impassion'd prompts thy strain.
Strike, pensive strike the trembling string,
In soul-subduing measures sing!
With melody's divinest fire,
Like Orpheus animate the lyre!
My bosom vibrates at the sound:
In sweet oblivion lost, with thee
I sink in dreams of extasy.
Now, fancy-led my spirit flies
To fairer climes, to purer skies,
No fears disturb, no cares annoy,
Each thought is love, each accent joy.
Of slighted vows the notes deplore.
My soul dissolves in tenderest woe,
Delicious tears unbidden flow!
So sadly pleasing seems my grief,
That scarce my bosom seeks relief;
So sweet the sorrowing songs aspire
I bless the pensive mourner's lyre;
Delighted hear his voice complain,
Nor, drown'd in rapture, heed his pain.
Exalt the muse of elder times,
Were witness'd in Athenian bowers,
Felt the pure bliss thy notes impart;
The Bard had own'd their equal art—
Since all the charms to thine belong,
His lays ascribe to Grecian song.
In the “Lyric Odes to the Royal Academicians,” for 1793, Peter Pindar has addressed an exquisite sonnet to the same gentleman.
VII. To LAURA.
An Imitation from Guarini.
Why frowns my fair? The mighty blissWas bought with equal smart.
I rudely stole a rapt'rous kiss,
I paid thee—with my heart!
Il mio furto soave:
Però non vi sia grave,
Dolci labra amorose,
Ch' a le vostre vermiglie, e fresche rose
Caro cibo involassi a 'i desir mici;
Se per pena del furto il cor perdei.
VIII. SONG.
Hear the Poet breathe desire:
All his graceful numbers blessing,
Sweetly languish o'er his lyre!
Sheds for you her rosy rays;
His soft notes melodious-streaming
Waft to distant climes your praise.
Lost to love no longer glow,
In his verse immortal shining
All your early graces blow!
IX. IMPROMPTU.
Written on the sea-shore with a party of ladies.
Charm'd, we view the stormy mainWhile conflicting winds complain;
Charm'd, behold th' unruffled deep,
While the billowy horrors sleep.
Ever various as the seas
Thus can lovely woman please—
When her beauties smile serene,
Rapture dwells upon her mien;
When they flash their angry fire,
Tho' we tremble, we admire!
X. To MARIA.
On an incident at Chess.
I led to war my sable band,
Where firmly ranged in close array
Thy snow-clad legions urged their way:
Untimely on th' embattled plain
I saw my valiant leader slain,
Untimely mourn'd a slaughter'd host,
Tho' bent victorious wreaths to boast.
Resistless march'd the white-arm'd Queen—
No phalanx check'd her rash career,
Each sable warriour shrunk with fear:
Till proud to shield his monarch's life,
Or perish in the glorious strife;
My turret spread a baleful frown:
The scepter'd Nymph her state maintain'd,
When nought but swift retreat remain'd,
Defenceless stood, delay'd her flight,
And sunk beneath the turret's might.
When grief disturb'd thy pensive mien
When angry accents mourn'd the Queen:
(Misdeeming all my valour won
By swift surprise alone undone)
Reluctant to the chequer'd board
My lingering hand the chief restored:
But e'er my foe resum'd her ground
Insulting triumph breathed a sound.
Resentment roused thee to complain:
From eyes that once serenely beam'd,
Indignant flashes wildly stream'd;
That placid form in anger rose,
Nor deign'd the doubtful fight to close.
My bosom glow'd with conscious shame.
New courage rose! ah, then, no more
His rashness could the bard deplore;
For, lovely mid thy soul's alarm,
Disdain had heighten'd every charm.
The rising blush expressive spread
O'er all thy cheek delicious red,
And sparkling glances fiercely bright
On every feature beam'd delight.
So well reveal a feeling heart;
That while I pour this artless rhime,
I languish to repeat my crime!
XI. To MARIA.
If smiles that sweetly bless
At every dear-bought conquest fly;—
Farewell, ye fields of chess!
No more I tempt the fight:
One look of peace by thee suppress'd,
Not vanquish'd kings requite!
XII. To JULIA.
Let rapture burst from every string—
Let eyes of heavenly radiance shine
With equal light from lays divine!
With laurel wreaths her tresses bound,
Lo! pure-eyed virtue lends her aid
To celebrate a spotless maid.
Cœlestial sweetness fills the skies,
Airs melting airs soft winds prolong,
While listening love applauds the song.
Relentless sorrow chills the strain:
Yet, every charm my song conceals,
My ravish'd soul in silence feels!
SONNETS.
'E di sfogare il doloroso core—
Non d'acquistar fama.
I. SONNET. To a poetical friend.
Waste not in fruitless toil youth's fleeting prime,Nor genial love's delight too long refuse:
Scorn wisdom's lore, and scorn the tempting muse!
On lowly pinions skim the realm of time,
Careless of all who gain a loftier clime,
Who bathe their tresses in Castalian dews;
Yet sorrows cannot shun, of varied hues,
Sorrows, that ever haunt the sons of rhime.
What dream of airy joy deludes thy mind?
Ill can the muse thro' life's tempestuous glade
Thy wanderings chear—she weeps herself to find
How oft the fairest hopes of merit fade,
How oft the world, to worth, to genius blind,
Deems wisdom air, and virtue's self a shade!
II. SONNET. In the manner of the earlier poets.
Thy yellow tresses floating in the windLoose o'er thy breast a sportive lustre throw,
Like scatter'd sun-beams dancing o'er the snow:
Oh! could their warm effulgence melt thy mind,
Unfeeling nymph, or teach thee to be kind,
As frost dissolves before the sunny glow;
Propitious gales of love should ever blow,
Scatter thy locks, their beamy gold unbind,
And thro' thy bosom kindle soft desire.
Then should I pierce that adamantine heart,
That polar ice with genial heat inspire.
Ah me! no ray thro' polar ice can dart—
Unchanging rock! To thee fierce passion's fire,
To thee love's burning sighs no warmth impart!
III. SONNET. To a dissolute character.
Who that can breathe the fragrant air of dayDelighted roves beneath nocturnal skies,
When chilling dews, and noisome vapours rise:
Who but a wretch like thee to vice a prey?
Ah, thou canst spurn immortal beauty's sway!
Endearing looks, pure blushes, tender sighs,
Not all the melting eloquence of eyes
From senseless revellers thy steps delay,
Who hail thee Lord, and bow to thy behest.
Wilt thou for this love's sacred rites forego,
Licentious monarch of the ribbald jest?
Vain as thy rival, man's insensate foe,
Who proudly scorn'd obedience with the blest,
To reign in realms of death and endless woe.
IV. SONNET.
[“On hope's alluring scenes tho' fortune frown]
“On hope's alluring scenes tho' fortune frown,“If love's gay radiance yield a transient light,
“Fearless of want, fearless of envy's might,
“I'll win the fairest guerdon of renown,
“Or pluck bright honour's wreath my verse to crown:
“Whate'er betide, whate'er my toil requite,
“Lead, glory lead! I'll soar a lofty flight
“Till loud acclaims my ravish'd senses drown,
“Till fame in Laura's heavenly smile appears.”
Thus vaunted erst the victim of desire—
But glory's meed no more his bosom chears,
With dying love the poet's lays expire:
The muse dissolv'd her lyric strain in tears,
When sorrow quench'd ambition's eager fire.
V. SONNET.
[The hero, dauntless, on war's crimson plain]
The hero, dauntless, on war's crimson plainHears shouts of joy proclaim the foe's success:
Soon fiercely-rushing myriads round him press—
No coward fears his rapid steps restrain;
With tenfold fury fir'd, he breathes disdain,
Riots in blood, and struggling with distress,
As dangers thicken, heeds the peril less;
Till faint, he falls by matchless numbers slain:
Thus He who long unpitied pour'd his sighs,
Or wept in fruitless grief the hours away;
Tho' scarce one cloud of early passion flies,
Tho' deepen'd shades obscure the passing day;
Yet feels mid frequent storms new courage rise:
His spirit strengthens, while his hopes decay.
VI. SONNET. On LAURA's illness.
Spirits of death, your fatal rage forbear!Shall beauty's orient beam with ruthless pain
For ever veil'd, in dim eclipse remain,
In dim eclipse of health-consuming care?
Disperse, ye dreary phantoms! hear my prayer!
Propitious hear a weeping wretch complain,
And, moved to pity by his pensive strain,
Life's tender flower from withering tempests spare!
They hear, my love—they heed the fond request.
Thy smiles revive to chase the gloom of night!
Smiles that alone can lull my fears to rest,
Smiles that unfading shine, divinely bright,
Whether in sickly pale thy cheek be drest,
Or health's warm roses blush delicious light!
VII. SONNET.
[Ambitious worldlings! count not him supine]
Ambitious worldlings! count not him supine,Who fame's seductive voice unmoved can hear:
Worthless to him her proffer'd gifts appear.
He shuns the field where glittering trophies shine—
For honor's high reward let others pine;
Him humbler toils await; not less severe:
To check the passions in their mad career;
With virtue's smile enamour'd, to resign
Each rapturous joy of youth's enlivening age;
To waste the silent hour in anxious pain,
And every fear and every hope assuage:
To feel corroding cares yet ne'er complain—
Labours like these his weary thoughts engage,
Whom the world deems of folly's listless train.
VIII. SONNET. To the SPIRIT of LAURA.
Shade of delight! shade whom my sighs revere!Oh lead thy love where blissful phantoms dwell:
Whether in radiant bowers or lonely cell
Thy spirit rest, there let his form appear;
There haply feel, if spirits feel, the tear
Warm from relenting eyes spontaneous swell,
Bathe his wan cheek and all his woes dispel.
Vain are his hopes on earth and vain his fear:
A purer realm the mourner's toil repays,
Where spotless pleasure blooms eternal youth.
Not long his lingering flight thy love delays,
Not long laments thy loss in strain uncouth—
Hark! angels wake their harps, while he displays
Angelic charms—simplicity and truth!
IX. SONNET. On the dismemberment of Poland, and the events of 1793.
Of spirit valiant, weak of outward frame,Too weak to bear the boisterous din of men,
I'll hide me in some solitary glen,
Where never vice unveil'd her scenes of shame.
Riot and war the maddening world inflame:
Unblushing tyranny deserts his den—
Come, sweet concealment! shroud me from his ken,
Nor let his bloody record boast my name!
Ye thoughts for others' weal that vainly pined,
Ye faded cheeks with deadly paleness spread,
Eyes, whose cold languor speaks a sorrowing mind,
Declare, how oft my heart profusely bled,
When kingly ruffians triumph'd o'er mankind,
And british vengeance—british honor—fled!
X. SONNET.
[Ill fated oak, dark frowning o'er the plain!]
Ill fated oak, dark frowning o'er the plain!Amidst thy tresses of luxuriant green,
The wood's wild choristers were whilom seen,
Chaunting their melodies of simple vein:
When vollied thunder tore thy trunk amain,
Fearless, unbending was thy lofty mien;
Majestic ruin! safe from storms I ween
The supple weeds beneath thy wreck remain.
Ruin'd in innocence, like thee I stand;
Youth's wither'd front with dauntless courage rear,
To brave corruption raging o'er the land:
When blasting calumnies my visage sear,
When vice triumphant joins the yelling band;
Like thee, I meet my fate, and feel no fear!
XI. SONNET.
[Yes, Fancy yields me love's resistless lyre!]
Yes, Fancy yields me love's resistless lyre!To wake the song of melody is mine,
Smoothly to modulate the luscious line,
With rapture melt, or tenderness inspire:
The breath of genius fans my youthful fire,
Celestial harmony forsakes the shrine,
Where erst she sat amid the choral nine,
And listening to my lays that breathe desire,
Marks the warm tears from Laura's eye-lid steal!
Those sacred drops no mortal measure drew—
I rave! I dream! Can death's pale shadow feel?
Silent, for ever cold!—Renew, renew
Thy plaint, that well might rend a heart of steel!
Not Fancy's self conceives the vision true!
XII. SONNET.
[Console a mourner, nymphs! no longer coy]
Console a mourner, nymphs! no longer coy,Frown on my blighted youth: from cares I fly.
The mellow beamings of an artless eye,
The blush of innocence, the breath of joy,
Enchanting accents, smiles that chase annoy,
Ye will not, cannot to a wretch deny,
Whom lingering misery condemns to sigh,
Till pity's tear the flame of grief destroy.
No venal slave am I, the muse's scorn,
No base idolater of filthy gold—
Victim of beauty's power, with passion lorn,
The sport of fortune, virgins, ye behold.
Unveil your charms! recall hope's vernal morn!
E'er shades of endless sleep my form enfold!
FAIRY FANTASIES.
Chase not the phantoms of my FAIRY DREAM,
Phantoms that fade at reason's painful gleam.’
I. PRELUDE.
And breathed my soft sorrows in vain:
My tears but awaken her pride,
My verse but invites her disdain.
Shall grief ever doom me to pine?
Forbid it, delusions of joy!
Let Fancy's bright empire be mine.
I'll rove the gay realms of delight;
In the cloud, in the whirlwind I'll ride—
Or flit with the visions of night.
I'll mount in the foam of the deep;
'Mid ruins hear spectres deplore,
Or wander the desart and weep;
Lakes, mountains, and cool-dripping cells;
With Fairies strew flowers on the grass,
And gaily dance over the dells.
Ye shadows! that soften desire,—
Ah shroud a fond youth with your charms,
Till love's gloomy tempests retire!
II. CAVERN.
Daring view our mysteries—
Thro' the cavern as ye fled
Heard ye not a mortal tread?
E'er he rashly venture near,
Warn we thus his eager ear:
‘Softly, softly stalk around:
‘Silent view the wondrous scene,
‘Work divine of forms unseen—
‘Trembling gaze, nor rudely brave
‘Spirits of the secret cave!
‘We the lucid gems have strung,
‘Flashing on thy ravish'd sight
‘Quivering floods of liquid light;
‘Than the solar beam displays.
‘We the ponderous arch have bent;
‘Streams assuming shapes unknown
‘Pendant frown, congeal'd to stone;
‘Monstrous forms, to daunt thine eyes,
‘At our bidding instant rise.
‘Hie thee to the realms of day!
‘E'er our mystic shouts rebound
‘Dreadful, thro' the vast profound;
‘E'er we shroud thy soul in night;
‘Swiftly, swiftly speed thy flight!’
III. BURNING MOUNTAIN.
Hear the task your Queen assigns;
Quit the caverns' chrystal hall,
Yawning gulphs, and gloomy mines;
Pierce the mountains' secret cells:
Here mid struggling vapours pent,
Thunder forth terrific yells!
Hurl aloft the riven rock;
Till the kindled sulphur gleams
Bursting with redoubled shock:
Thro' the deepening shadows stray,
Bid the smoky volume rise,
In the livid lightening play!
Floating flame in torrents urge,
Dreadful thro' the deluge ride,
Riot on the fiery surge!
Seek with me the central deep;
There the radiant horrors shun,
There in cooling grottoes sleep!
IV. LAKES.
Winds beneath o'erhanging trees;
There your Elfin empress wanders,
There she quaffs the morning breeze:
Round the moss-clad rock she plays;
Leaning on her pearly billow,
All the liquid realm surveys:
Shades my radiant mirror shroud:
See the glossy stillness vanish—
Chase oh chase that ruffling cloud!
Down the pendent forest flow;
Foaming high, or faintly falling,
Join the lucid lake below!
Spread with vapoury veil the scene;
Misty steams and mountains blending,
Soften nature's savage mien!
To your rocks, my Fays, repair!
There in caves with thickets bounded
Wake your woe-dispelling air.
Owns the magic of your songs;
While amidst your Fairy cluster
Echo every note prolongs;
Till the star of evening glows:
Lap me in oblivious slumbers,
Wave the wand of soft repose!
V. DREAMS.
Now the din of nature ends—
Visions! hear our Elfin cries,
Phantoms! airy spectres, rise!
Well ye know to us belongs
Power to rule your mingled throngs!
Glide the murderer's couch around;
Near the base seducer lie,
Wildly shriek, and sadly sigh:
Or in sable robes array'd,
Flit before the faithless maid!
Soothe with slumber soft his woes;
Lull the restless swain's alarms,
Lead the virgin to his arms,
Bathe his ravish'd soul in bliss!
Wander where we point the way—
Soon, too soon, unwelcome light
Melts the parting shades of night;
Then must we our sports forbear,
Then with you dissolve in air!
VI. GLACIERES.
Mid rattling hail, and sleety showers,
In realms of frost we spirits reign;
In varied sport consume the hours.
Oft from the hoary mount we tear;
Deep-thundering down the vale below,
Or whirl'd in eddies thro' the air.
Fantastic scenes our skill displays:
Their snow-built spires the cities rear,
The groves their chrystal branches raise.
O'er all our wild creations throw,
Cold saphire radiance, emerald streams,
And blushing rays of ruby-glow.
What secret wonders might we tell!
But, hark—our queen forbids the strain,
And calls us lingering to her cell.
VII. RUINS.
DEMONS.Rocking whirlwinds shake the dome—
Fays of darkness, hither roam!
Shapeless legions, shades of fear,
Heed ye not? appear! appear!
Earthquakes heave the panting ground,
Fanes dismantled totter round:
Hark! with hideous roar they fall!
Loudly bursts the shatter'd wall!
Columns quiver! arches groan!
Sinks the mighty mass of stone—
Wherefore Fairies thus delay?
Hither, hither haste away!
FAIRIES.
Yes, we hear; but hear in vain:
Fate forbids her Fays to fly.
Fays serener bliss enjoy.
O'er the ruin'd temples rise:
Thro' the vaulted roof o'erthrown
Some in hollow murmurs moan;
Some upon the moon-beam sail
Dimly clad in glimmering mail;
Some, to brave the wintery wind,
Falling piles with ivy bind;
Some along the mouldering heap
Teach the hoary moss to creep:
All in tranquil scenes delight,
All in peace consume the night.
Fays serener bliss enjoy.
VIII. LIGHT.
Shall we float on the beams of the moon;
Illumine the shadows of night,
Or brighten the lustre of noon?
The gay-coloured arch to adorn;
Strew meteors, in crowds as we run,
Or blush in the crimson of morn?
And o'er the cool azure diffuse
Pale glances quick-trembling in air,
Warm flashes and fiery hues?
With Elves of the tempest we'll fly:
While they in the storm shrilly sing,
We'll glare thro' the gloom of the sky!
IX. GROVES, &c.
Retired from mortal haunts afar,
When rising o'er the shadowy green
Appears mild evening's welcome star;
Join on the flower-enamell'd ground,
To celebrate our festive rites,
Or lead the mazy dance around.
Beneath whose sheltering shade we stray,
And deeper verdure decks the plain
Where'er our magic circles play.
Now, smoothly sliding o'er the grass,
We haste Titania's train to meet
Nor shake a dew-drop as we pass:
Thro' the dim air our sports pursue;
Till scatter'd by the breeze of morn,
We quickly vanish from the view!
X. FEMALE BEAUTY.
Sweeter far than opening flowers,
Fond seducers! would ye know
Whence your soft allurements flow?
Elves alone by nature led,
Elves your morn of beauty spread!
Thrice refine the rose's blush;
For your veins' delicious blue,
Steep a violet leaf in dew;
For your skins' resplendent white,
Steal a ray of lunar light;
For the glances of your eyes,
Snatch a sunbeam from the skies!
Fairies every grace illume:
Tranquil hour of artless truth—
Pleased when mortal charms dispense
Lovely looks of innocence!
Sheds th' untimely blight of age;
When delusive art appears,
Faithless accents, feigning tears—
All your blest protectors fly!
All your beauties fade and die!
XI. SEA.
Scale the billow, fleet Elves! boldly dash in the spray!
When clouds veil the skies,
The gleam of your eyes
Tho' mild as the moonbeam is radiant as day.
Smoothe the wide-swelling surge! clothe the waters in fire!
Leave the mist-cover'd steep!
Hurry on to the deep!
Protect the swift pinnace till dangers retire!
“The storm disappears that o'ershadow'd the main:
“On the cliff, on the sand,
“In clusters we stand:
“We twinkle like stars on the sea's level plain!”
Should the nymphs lave their limbs let the tide gently flow;
Soft smiles from the fair
Rewarding your care,
While ye sport with the wave on their bosoms of snow!
Beneath whose pure roof pearly hues love to dwell;
Bring leafllets, bring flowers
From coralline bowers,
Bring gems of rich lustre to lighten my cell!
“With gems of rich lustre we'll rival the sky,
“We'll bring thee bright flowers
“From coralline bowers,
“And carol thy praises till ocean reply!”
XII. DESART.
TRAVELLERS.False Arab! faithless robber, stay!
When water fails, will guides betray?
We faint with thirst! no drop remains
To slake our lips, or cool our veins!
He flies—he flies—with treacherous haste
He leaves us on the dreary waste:
Clear springs, he said, or verdure mild
Would chear us o'er the trackless wild,
Or stars of gold the sand illume,
Or groves of cool acacia bloom:
'Twas falsehood all—no verdant scene
But bitter senna's barren green,
No woods appear, no waters bless—
Unbounded, hideous wilderness!
Fill the solitary plain:
Spirits of the desart—rise!
Rise! 'tis man's insensate train.
Avarice leads their impious crew!
Withering squadrons, blast their way—
Ruthless fiends! their steps pursue!
Thro' the dusty whirlwind glare,
Stalk amid the pillar'd sand,
Scorch the breezes, taint the air!
Live beneath the venom'd gale—
Spread the purple haze of death,
Turn the sultry planets pale!
FURIES.
Fiend of death! the work is done.
Sandy whirlwinds sweep the ground—
Fiery columns close them round—
Now they tremble! Now they sink!
Haste thee life's last sob to drink!
Poison taints the blushing sky,
Winds breathe flame—they die! they die!
XIII. FLOWERS.
We must waken day's delight!
We must weave in nature's loom
Summer radiance, vernal bloom.
Morning opes her purple eyes—
Orient colours, countless dies
Dissipate the spell of sleep:
Weep, deserted poppies, weep!
Fays no more in filmy trance
Round your slumbering leaflets dance.
Now we gambol o'er the green;
Flit where noon-tide fervors shine,
Fan the blossoms e'er they pine,
Cooling airs on welcome wing
To the fainting lilly bring;
Laugh in every bud that blows.
See, the misty gloom descends.
Stay thee—bright-hair'd imp of light!
Check thy steeds' ungovern'd flight!
Eve's triumphant shadow lours:
Round her visage, dim with showers,
Shrivelling moon-beams faintly play:
We must leave ye, buds of day!
Fays your filmy trance restore.
Softest dews of slumber fell,
While we breathed that opiate spell:
Silent poppies! cease your fears—
Visionary bliss appears.
XIV. CONCLUSION.
Each rapturous dream of bliss is flown:
To slow-consuming cares a prey,
I feel of love the pangs alone.
And darkness reassumes her reign;
Eager I seek the midnight shade,
There midst imbowering woods complain.
And chear'd my path with glittering dreams;
Once Fancy own'd me for her guest:
Ah! then I lov'd the moon's pale beams!
In deepest woods I shroud my care;
For Hope is lost in endless night,
And Fancy dwells not with despair!
IMITATIONS OF CATULLUS.
To Lesbia's Sparrow.
Sweet Sparrow, all my Love's delight,Whose wanton frolics charm her sight;
By Lesbia's playful hand caress'd,
As oft she lays thee on her breast,
Her taper fingers tempting seek
The sportive vengeance of thy beak:
When cares oppress,—the soft relief,
The soothing solace of her grief!
With thee, like Lesbia, might I play;
Like her my weary woes allay:
With softer joy should I be blest
Than Atalanta's self confess'd;
When gold, amidst the rapid race,
Unbound her zone and check'd her pace.
On the Death of Lesbia's Sparrow.
Lament, ye men of softer vein!
Her soul's delight, her Sparrow dies,
More loved by Lesbia than her eyes:
The sweetest bird! as honey mild!
He follow'd Lesbia like a child—
He never from her bosom stray'd,
For her alone he fondly play'd,
Now here, now there, while leaping light,
He chirp'd his lay and charm'd her sight;
Who now a dreary road must fly,
Whence all return the fates deny.
May tenfold gloom your realms invest!
On all that lovely lives ye prey,
Ye tore my lovely bird away.
Oh luckless bird! Oh cruel deed!
For thee my heart is doom'd to bleed—
For thee forlorn my Love appears,
Swoln her soft eyes and red with tears!
To Lesbia.
Nor heed what wrinkled sages say!
The setting sun relumined shines—
When once our shortlived day declines,
We hail, alas! no dawning light,
We sleep one long eternal night.
Swift with a hundred more caress!
A rapturous thousand yet impart—
Still with a hundred chear my heart!
A thousand yet! a hundred more!
With glowing myriads swell the store!
So swiftly then we'll mingle blisses,
Not Envy's self shall count our kisses!
To Lesbia.
How many kisses must I sipTo satiate love from Lesbia's lip?—
O seek Cyrene's fragrant shore,
The countless Lybian sand explore,
From where Jove's fervid fane is rear'd
To antient Battus' tomb revered;
Or swift the sum of stars unfold—
Of stars that secret joys behold,
When night in silent splendor glows
And all but lovers seek repose:—
So many kisses must I sip
To satiate love from Lesbia's lip!
With these my raging passion bless—
Catullus only feels excess,
When no keen eye can count his joy,
No envious spell his bliss annoy!
The influence of Magic did not extend (according to ancient superstition) beyond the limit of numbers.
On the Nuptials of Julia and Manlius.
From Helicon's bright summit glide:
Thou, who to bless her eager swain
Leadst swiftly on the virgin bride,
For thee our choral measures rise—
With Hymen's name we wake the skies!
Of marjoram a garland lend.
Haste, bring the veil! thy snowy feet
Adorn'd with yellow sock, descend!
Awake, awake the nuptial sound!
O wave thy piny torch on high,
And beat with measured step the ground!
When Paris view'd her glowing charms,
See Julia, spotless maid, repair
In happy hour to Manlius' arms.
On Asia's odour-breathing shore;
Whose blossoms, nursed with pearly dew,
The sportive wood-nymphs sprinkle o'er.
Leave, Hymen, leave Aonian caves:
Quit Thespia's rock, whose tuneful brow
Cool-streaming Aganippe laves!
Her soul with love's soft fetters bind;
In circling folds on every side
As trees with ivy wreaths are twined.
Assigns connubial joys to meet;
Accordant join the choral song,
In loudly-warbled notes repeat:
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Invoked prepare his hallow'd rite;
And, pleased to hear your songs aspire,
On swifter pinions urge his flight.
Shall ardent lovers worship more?
What favouring god, with purer prayer,
With warmer vows shall man adore?
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Unloose their zones for thy delight:
The parent breathes an anxious prayer,
The fervid youth invokes thy rite.
To yield the beauteous maid is thine:
With trembling haste, at thy command,
Maternal arms their charge resign!
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Unhallow'd, unapproved by fame,
Till nuptial rites their influence lend,
Till Hymen consecrate the flame:
What god with Hymen can compare?
Shall time to lasting fame consign;
His sire no glorious heirs shall grace
Till thou protect the lengthening line:
What god with Hymen can compare?
No guardian power shall e'er command:
Nor kings, nor honour'd heroes rise,
Till thou descending bless the land:
What god with Hymen can compare?
The torches' waving tresses shine!
Appear, appear, sweet bride, behold
The lucid stars of eve decline!
The shouts redoubled rend her ear:
She weeps!—The fleeting hours decay,
O virgin bride, appear, appear!
Aurunculeia! cease to weep:
A fairer nymph ne'er smiled to see
The day-star rising from the deep.
The hyacynth in vernal pride!
But see the star of eve declines,
Appear, appear, unspotted bride.
Sweet maid, our clamours reach thine ear!
The torches wave their locks of gold—
O virgin bride, appear, appear!
Nor cloy'd, nor faithless to thy charms,
That softly-swelling bosom leave
To riot in a wanton's arms.
As elms invite the circling vine.
Appear, appear, sweet bride, behold
The lucid stars of eve decline!
Confess the happiest aid of art,
How soon on thee shall Manlius meet
A bliss too mighty to impart!
What joys the conscious night endear!
But see the lamp of eve decay—
O virgin bride, appear appear!
Remove the torches' ardent light!
Boys, loudly swell the choral lay,
Hail with shrill shouts th' auspicious night!
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
With nuts profusely strew the ground:
Enough! Thalassius swells the song:
The Fescenninian jests resound!
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
That youth's unfetter'd warmth allows:
These roving pleasures now resign,
A purer bliss awaits a spouse.
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Nor shun a husband's eager arms!
Grant all he asks, lest vice ensnare
His soul to court illicit charms.
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Delighted there each hour employ,
Till age approach with hoary brows
And all the bloom of life destroy.
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Swift o'er the polish'd threshold glide;
With happy omen haste to greet
The youth who fondly seeks his bride.
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Sweet bride, thy longing husband see!
Thy blushing beauties fire his mind,
Each ardent sigh is full of thee.
The throbbing tumult of desire:
Love, inly gliding thro' his frame,
Consumes his soul with fiercer fire.
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Support no more her polish'd arms;
Swift to the couch attend the maid,
Soothe, gently soothe her love's alarms.
To hoary husbands long allied,
With speed instruct her artless age:
On nuptial vestments lay the bride!
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!
Stretch'd on the couch her limbs recline—
Love's lillies blossom on her breast,
Her cheeks like opening poppies shine!
Hath Venus view'd thee, beauteous boy!
But see thick darkness veils the sky,
Haste, haste, the rapid hours employ.
Love smiles propitious on the youth
That artless won a yielding maid
By vows sincere and manly truth.
Should strive by numbers to explore,
As well might count the stars of night
Or sands on Erythræa's shore.
Let children crown the chaste embrace!
Ah sure that glorious name from fate
May justly claim a lengthen'd race.
Lean from his mother's breast awhile;
Stretch to his sire his infant arms,
Half ope his little lips and smile!
Appears to every gazing eye,
May youthful innocence bespeak
A lovely mother's purity!
Penelope's unrivall'd fame;
May Julia's son illustrious own
His spotless mother's equal name!
Close now the gates and cease your strain—
Blest pair! enjoy life's fleeting day,
While youth and genial years remain!
Poems by William Kendall | ||