Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock Together with an Essay on the Education of the Blind. To Which is Prefixed A New Account of the Life and Writings of the Author |
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| II. |
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| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
The Author's Answer. |
 | Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock |  |
The Author's Answer.
When Clio seem'd forgetful of my pain,
A soft impatience throbb'd in ev'ry vein;
Each tedious hour I thought an age of woe;
So few their pleasures, and their pace so slow:
But, when your moving accents reach'd my ear,
Just, as your taste, and as your heart, sincere;
My soul re-echo'd, while the melting strain
Beat in each pulse, and flow'd in ev'ry vein.
A soft impatience throbb'd in ev'ry vein;
Each tedious hour I thought an age of woe;
So few their pleasures, and their pace so slow:
But, when your moving accents reach'd my ear,
Just, as your taste, and as your heart, sincere;
My soul re-echo'd, while the melting strain
Beat in each pulse, and flow'd in ev'ry vein.
Ah! teach my verse, like your's, to be refin'd;
Your force of language, and your strength of mind:
Teach me that winning, soft, persuasive art,
Which ravishes the soul, and charms the heart:
Then ev'ry heighten'd pow'r I will employ
To paint your merit, and express my joy.
Less soft the strains, the numbers less refin'd,
With which great Orpheus polish'd human kind;
Whose magic force could lawless vice reprove,
And teach a world the sweets of social love.
Your force of language, and your strength of mind:
Teach me that winning, soft, persuasive art,
Which ravishes the soul, and charms the heart:
Then ev'ry heighten'd pow'r I will employ
To paint your merit, and express my joy.
Less soft the strains, the numbers less refin'd,
With which great Orpheus polish'd human kind;
Whose magic force could lawless vice reprove,
And teach a world the sweets of social love.
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When great Acasto's virtues grac'd your lays,
My soul was lost in the effulgent blaze;
Whose love, like heav'n, to all mankind extends,
Supplies the indigent, the weak defends;
Pursues the good of all with steady aim;
One bright, unweary'd, unextinguish'd flame.
What transport felt my soul, what keen delight,
When its full blaze of glory met my sight!
But soon, too soon, the happy gleam was o'er;
What joy can reign where Clio is no more?
My soul was lost in the effulgent blaze;
Whose love, like heav'n, to all mankind extends,
Supplies the indigent, the weak defends;
Pursues the good of all with steady aim;
One bright, unweary'd, unextinguish'd flame.
What transport felt my soul, what keen delight,
When its full blaze of glory met my sight!
But soon, too soon, the happy gleam was o'er;
What joy can reign where Clio is no more?
Ah! hapless me! must yet more woes inspire
The mournful song, and tune the tragic lyre?
The last and greatest of the sable train?
Her Clio's absence must the muse complain,
From these intrusive thoughts all pleasure flies,
And leaves my soul benighted, like my eyes.
The mournful song, and tune the tragic lyre?
The last and greatest of the sable train?
Her Clio's absence must the muse complain,
From these intrusive thoughts all pleasure flies,
And leaves my soul benighted, like my eyes.
Yet, while absorb'd in thought alone I stray,
On ev'ry sense while silent sorrows prey,
Or from some arbour conscious of my pain,
While to the sighing breeze I sigh in vain;
May each new moment, fraught with new delight,
Crown your bright day, and bless your silent night:
May height'ning raptures ev'ry sense surprise,
Music your ears, gay prospects charm your eyes:
May all on earth, and all in heav'n conspire
To make your pleasures lasting and entire.
'Tis thine alone can sooth my anxious breast,
Secure of bliss, while conscious you are blest.
On ev'ry sense while silent sorrows prey,
Or from some arbour conscious of my pain,
While to the sighing breeze I sigh in vain;
May each new moment, fraught with new delight,
Crown your bright day, and bless your silent night:
May height'ning raptures ev'ry sense surprise,
Music your ears, gay prospects charm your eyes:
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To make your pleasures lasting and entire.
'Tis thine alone can sooth my anxious breast,
Secure of bliss, while conscious you are blest.
| Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock | |