The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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AN HYMN TO HARMONY.
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 | The Shamrock |  |
AN HYMN TO HARMONY.
Pindar, Olymp. II.
From Nothing, bade this wonderous All
In beauteous Order rise;
Thou, who, at Nature's earliest Birth,
Saw'st vernal Fragrance cloathe the Earth,
And brighten all the Skies!
Hath bound the Earth, the Air, and Sea,
In one eternal Chain:
Come then, O come, celestial Maid;
Be present to thy Votary's Aid;
And harmonize the Strain!
On Herbs, and Trees, and Fruits, and Flowers,
His vivifying Ray;
So may thy hallow'd Fire impart
Fresh Joy, and Gladness to the Heart,
Along the Realms of Day.
Extends her Empire o'er the Land,
And stalks, with Giant-Stride;
O prop fair Virtue's sinking Cause;
Defend our Rights; protect our Laws;
And stem Corruption's Tide!
Eternal Nature shall decay;
Whilst thy prolific Beam
Rolls on, and shall for ever roll,
From Day to Day, from Pole to Pole,
An unexhausted Stream.
Thy Power, thy Energy sublime,
With dazzling Lustre shone;
And shall, when Time, and Space are past,
In undiminish'd Glory last,
Immortal, and alone.
The Spark, that warms thy vital Frame,
Ascends its Kindred Skies;
Then, like the Phœnix from the Fire,
An Offspring, beauteous as its Sire,
Shall from thy Ashes rise.
Divine Benevolence, be near;
And Fortitude, thy Friend;
Let firm Integrity be nigh;
And Freedom, with terrific Eye,
Thy solemn Steps attend:
Display'd the Impotence of Power,
And Vanity of Pride;
Warm'd by whose Flame, great Tully taught;
And Cato bled; and Cæsar fought;
And Alexander dy'd:
Our great Fore-fathers did inspire
To vindicate their Right—
O let us now transmit it down,
From Age to Age, from Sire to Son,
With everlasting Light!
Unbodied Multitudes prepare
To join the festive Throng:
All Nature celebrates thy Praise;
And Dryads, Fauns, and Satyrs raise
The Hymenæal Song.
Then Music waves her purple Wings;
And undulates around;
The Groves, with all their Echoes mourn;
And sympathetic Rocks return
The inexpressive Sound.
The Writer does not presume to offer this as an original Composition of his own; it is a Translation of an antient Greek Ode, which, though never hitherto published, the critical Eye will discover to have been well known to, and carefully studied by most of the modern Lyric Writers; who have, without Scruple or Acknowlegement, copied from it the most brilliant Passages of many of their Odes: The Original, which (it must be acknowleged) in many Places, particularly in the Simile with which it concludes, soars a Flight beyond modern Daring, will shortly be presented to the Public, accompanied with a copious Commentary and Illustrations, tending chiefly to shew in what Instances some late Writers of the first Reputation have borrowed from this valuable Remnant of antient Literature.
| The Shamrock | |