Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery including selections from his correspondence, remains in prose and verse, and conversations or various subjects. By John Holland and James Everett |
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| I. | CANTO I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery |  |
CANTO I.
Once on a time,—and you may know
'Tis now three thousand years ago,
Near ancient Troy,—though when and where,
To us is neither here nor there;
Who dare dispute the truth of fable?
When once a poet slips his cable,
He scuds away before the wind,
While in their cockboats, far behind,
Critics in vain pursue the chase,
Distanced alike in time and place.
So the proud swan triumphant sails,
While ducks at distance wag their tails.
'Tis now three thousand years ago,
Near ancient Troy,—though when and where,
To us is neither here nor there;
Who dare dispute the truth of fable?
When once a poet slips his cable,
He scuds away before the wind,
While in their cockboats, far behind,
Critics in vain pursue the chase,
Distanced alike in time and place.
So the proud swan triumphant sails,
While ducks at distance wag their tails.
Achilles dead, his mother Thetis
Bewailed her son in dismal ditties;
And mourned her own immortal lot,
Since he could die and she could not.
Around her cave a beauteous throng
Of mermaids poured the plaintive song,
And all the tears of those sweet girls
Were metamorphosed into pearls;
Which as they fell they caught with care,
And strung them on their sea-green hair.
Stern Neptune shared his daughter's pain,
And Amphitrite shrieked amain;
Through all the sea the sorrow ran,
The Tritons blubbered to a man.
The billows heaved with such emotion,
There seemed an earthquake in the ocean;
While, blest in vain with hearts of stone,
Relenting rocks returned the moan.
Rapacious sharks released their prey,
And swooned delightfully away;
Herrings, like floating islands, hung
In listening millions on her tongue;
And sentimental shrimps did languish
In all the ecstasy of anguish;
Unwieldy turtles bounced their best,
And seemed deliciously distrest;
E'en sympathising lobsters wailed,
And wondered what their pincers ailed;
Oysters lay gasping in their beds,
And cockles shook their sapient heads;
Crabs clasped their claws, with frantic air,
In all the pathos of despair!
Bewailed her son in dismal ditties;
And mourned her own immortal lot,
Since he could die and she could not.
Around her cave a beauteous throng
Of mermaids poured the plaintive song,
And all the tears of those sweet girls
Were metamorphosed into pearls;
Which as they fell they caught with care,
And strung them on their sea-green hair.
318
And Amphitrite shrieked amain;
Through all the sea the sorrow ran,
The Tritons blubbered to a man.
The billows heaved with such emotion,
There seemed an earthquake in the ocean;
While, blest in vain with hearts of stone,
Relenting rocks returned the moan.
Rapacious sharks released their prey,
And swooned delightfully away;
Herrings, like floating islands, hung
In listening millions on her tongue;
And sentimental shrimps did languish
In all the ecstasy of anguish;
Unwieldy turtles bounced their best,
And seemed deliciously distrest;
E'en sympathising lobsters wailed,
And wondered what their pincers ailed;
Oysters lay gasping in their beds,
And cockles shook their sapient heads;
Crabs clasped their claws, with frantic air,
In all the pathos of despair!
At length the tide, that flowed so high,
Began to ebb in every eye;
Thetis resolved to seek relief,
And in a voyage drown her grief.
The Dame was soon equipt for sea,
(A tighter vessel could not be,)
And all her sorrows, all her charms,
Committed to her legs and arms;
No seventy-four, with all its trimming,
Was ever more expert at swimming:
Though wild and high the surges swelled,
Her lightest touch their wrath repelled.
A fleet of dolphins formed her train,
And gaily gambolled through the main.
Swift as the moon's awakening beam,
Swift as a disappearing dream,
Swift as the whirlwind sweeps the sky,
Swift as a spider snaps a fly,
So swift along the yielding spray
Her gallant elbows won their way.
As when the moon and starry host,
On heaven's tempestuous ocean tost,
Bathe their bright forms in billowy clouds,
Then start in splendour from their shrouds,
And braving wind and weather bleak,
Play all night long at hide and seek,
Thus Thetis with her dolphin-crew,
Alternate rose and sunk from view.
Now in the whelming gulf concealed,
Then fresh in rosy bloom revealed,
Light o'er the glistening wave she glides,
With glowing cheek, and panting sides,
Waves her green locks, and winds her limbs,
The surface circling as she swims;
Fond Ocean clasped her on his breast,
And bore her blushing to the West.
Began to ebb in every eye;
Thetis resolved to seek relief,
And in a voyage drown her grief.
The Dame was soon equipt for sea,
(A tighter vessel could not be,)
And all her sorrows, all her charms,
Committed to her legs and arms;
No seventy-four, with all its trimming,
Was ever more expert at swimming:
Though wild and high the surges swelled,
Her lightest touch their wrath repelled.
A fleet of dolphins formed her train,
And gaily gambolled through the main.
Swift as the moon's awakening beam,
Swift as a disappearing dream,
319
Swift as a spider snaps a fly,
So swift along the yielding spray
Her gallant elbows won their way.
As when the moon and starry host,
On heaven's tempestuous ocean tost,
Bathe their bright forms in billowy clouds,
Then start in splendour from their shrouds,
And braving wind and weather bleak,
Play all night long at hide and seek,
Thus Thetis with her dolphin-crew,
Alternate rose and sunk from view.
Now in the whelming gulf concealed,
Then fresh in rosy bloom revealed,
Light o'er the glistening wave she glides,
With glowing cheek, and panting sides,
Waves her green locks, and winds her limbs,
The surface circling as she swims;
Fond Ocean clasped her on his breast,
And bore her blushing to the West.
O for immortal Homer's fire,
Or humbler Virgil's sweeter lyre,
To sing, in strains that wildly weep,
My Lady's dangers in the deep!
How like Æneas and Ulysses,
From Scylla's fangs and Circe's kisses,
From self-consuming Ætna's rage,
From Polyphemus' dreadful cage,
Ten thousand thousand perils past,
She fled,—she triumphed to the last!
Or humbler Virgil's sweeter lyre,
To sing, in strains that wildly weep,
My Lady's dangers in the deep!
How like Æneas and Ulysses,
From Scylla's fangs and Circe's kisses,
From self-consuming Ætna's rage,
From Polyphemus' dreadful cage,
Ten thousand thousand perils past,
She fled,—she triumphed to the last!
Now reaching that divided strand,
Where Hercules' huge pillars stand,
Where proud Gibraltar bullies Spain,
She shoots into the western main;
And there her dolphin-train dismisses,
With briny tears and balmy kisses.
Now tost about by tempests frantic,
She stoutly stems the fierce Atlantic;
And all alone, undaunted braves
The roaring wilderness of waves.
Yet Lisbon's rock she shuns with care,—
She dreads the Inquisition there!
Nor nearer Gallia's coast is seen,—
She fears no less the guillotine!
But O! she hails, with proud emotion,
The mighty magnet of the ocean,
That rules the waves where'er they roll,
From sun to sun, from pole to pole—
That sweet, sequestered island-realm,
Where George the Third directs the helm!
Where Hercules' huge pillars stand,
Where proud Gibraltar bullies Spain,
She shoots into the western main;
And there her dolphin-train dismisses,
With briny tears and balmy kisses.
320
She stoutly stems the fierce Atlantic;
And all alone, undaunted braves
The roaring wilderness of waves.
Yet Lisbon's rock she shuns with care,—
She dreads the Inquisition there!
Nor nearer Gallia's coast is seen,—
She fears no less the guillotine!
But O! she hails, with proud emotion,
The mighty magnet of the ocean,
That rules the waves where'er they roll,
From sun to sun, from pole to pole—
That sweet, sequestered island-realm,
Where George the Third directs the helm!
“The Inquisition?—George the Third?—
The guillotine?—absurd! absurd!
Did ever such abortive blunders
Disgrace the vilest ‘Tale of Wonders,’
Born in despite of Nature's law,
When Bedlam brains were in the straw?
What can the crazy scribbler mean?”—
To leave you to the guillotine;
And in the teeth of railing knaves,
To follow Thetis through the waves.
The guillotine?—absurd! absurd!
Did ever such abortive blunders
Disgrace the vilest ‘Tale of Wonders,’
Born in despite of Nature's law,
When Bedlam brains were in the straw?
What can the crazy scribbler mean?”—
To leave you to the guillotine;
And in the teeth of railing knaves,
To follow Thetis through the waves.
Now dashing through the Straits of Dover,
The German Ocean crossing over,
Lapland's remotest point she doubles—
There falls into a sea of troubles.
Her courage now begins to fail her,
Islands of floating ice assail her,
Bulge her sweet ribs with barbarous shocks,
Amidst the crash of falling rocks;
Not Jove himself was more embarrassed,
When, by rebellious Titans harassed,
The mountains rattled round his ears,
And spoiled the music of the spheres.
The German Ocean crossing over,
Lapland's remotest point she doubles—
There falls into a sea of troubles.
Her courage now begins to fail her,
Islands of floating ice assail her,
Bulge her sweet ribs with barbarous shocks,
Amidst the crash of falling rocks;
Not Jove himself was more embarrassed,
When, by rebellious Titans harassed,
The mountains rattled round his ears,
And spoiled the music of the spheres.
321
The goddess thus besieged around,
Sighs for a foot of solid ground,
Strains every sinew, spends her strength,
And in Siberia lands at length.
What strange adventures there befel,
The Muse another time shall tell;
After such tossing on the billows,
My readers languish for their pillows:
Go, gentle friends, and slumber free
From all the dangers of the sea,
For mightier perils, still in store,
The Fates reserve for you on shore.
Sighs for a foot of solid ground,
Strains every sinew, spends her strength,
And in Siberia lands at length.
What strange adventures there befel,
The Muse another time shall tell;
After such tossing on the billows,
My readers languish for their pillows:
Go, gentle friends, and slumber free
From all the dangers of the sea,
For mightier perils, still in store,
The Fates reserve for you on shore.
| Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery | |