The Poetical Works of Percival Stockdale In two volumes |
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A POETICAL ADDRESS TO THE SUPREME BEING. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Percival Stockdale |  |
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A POETICAL ADDRESS TO THE SUPREME BEING.
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1764.
If noble thoughts poetic warmth inspire,
No trifle should employ the sacred fire;
Fancy should then her little flowers disdain,
And pour a simple, but a manly strain.
No trifle should employ the sacred fire;
Fancy should then her little flowers disdain,
And pour a simple, but a manly strain.
My raptured soul despises narrow views,
I mount no Pegasus, invoke no Muse;
I neither beg Apollo, nor the Nine
To speed my verse, and live along each line:
Fly hence the whole parade of classic powers,
Castalian beverage, and Castalian bowers.
I mount no Pegasus, invoke no Muse;
I neither beg Apollo, nor the Nine
To speed my verse, and live along each line:
Fly hence the whole parade of classic powers,
Castalian beverage, and Castalian bowers.
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My God! my Father! Lord of Heaven and Earth!
Whose high command spoke Nature into birth;
Parent of intellectual human kind,
Stupendous Former of the reasoning mind;
Of Newton's being the propitious cause,
By whom we viewed Thee through thy wondrous laws;
Whose goodness Milton on mankind bestowed,
Sublime despiser of each beaten road;
Whose ardent flight with pleasing awe we trace,
Darting through chaos, and unmeasured space;
To thee I sing!—Thy poet's numbers aid,
Check him, when rash, and heat him, when afraid;
Accept the pious tribute of his lays.
Who burns, at once, and trembles while he prays!
Whose high command spoke Nature into birth;
Parent of intellectual human kind,
Stupendous Former of the reasoning mind;
Of Newton's being the propitious cause,
By whom we viewed Thee through thy wondrous laws;
Whose goodness Milton on mankind bestowed,
Sublime despiser of each beaten road;
Whose ardent flight with pleasing awe we trace,
Darting through chaos, and unmeasured space;
To thee I sing!—Thy poet's numbers aid,
Check him, when rash, and heat him, when afraid;
Accept the pious tribute of his lays.
Who burns, at once, and trembles while he prays!
If by the errors of my youth distressed,
If by misfortune's galling load oppressed,
From tinsel, and from crouds awhile I steal,
My bleeding heart with serious hours to heal;
From each inferior object if I flee,
And fix my soul on poetry, and thee;
Be to thy servant's virtuous aim benign,
Forgive his faults, and favour his design.
If by misfortune's galling load oppressed,
From tinsel, and from crouds awhile I steal,
My bleeding heart with serious hours to heal;
From each inferior object if I flee,
And fix my soul on poetry, and thee;
Be to thy servant's virtuous aim benign,
Forgive his faults, and favour his design.
207
O Thou! whose mighty mandate can restrain
The whirlwind's force, the thunder of the main;
Now, and at every such important time,
When I would only live to Heaven, and Rhyme,
Soothe, with thy kind omnipotence, to rest
Each perturbation that corrodes my breast;
Present fair Virtue to my longing eyes,
In beauteous prospect let Elysium rise;
Be mine the pictures, and be mine the love
That ravished Plato in his laurel-grove.
The whirlwind's force, the thunder of the main;
Now, and at every such important time,
When I would only live to Heaven, and Rhyme,
Soothe, with thy kind omnipotence, to rest
Each perturbation that corrodes my breast;
Present fair Virtue to my longing eyes,
In beauteous prospect let Elysium rise;
Be mine the pictures, and be mine the love
That ravished Plato in his laurel-grove.
Or give me such a happy mental frame
As rouzes oft the holy Bramin's flame,
Who unemployed, unvexed with aught below,
Stranger to vice, to folly, and to woe,
In sweet retirement fixes his abode,
Marks blooming Nature, and adores her GOD.
Him, reverend sage, nor grief nor pain assail,
Health, peace, and fragrance breathe in every gale:
At eve, when Zephyr waves the stately trees,
His inspiration rises with the breeze;
Quick to the throne of grace his vespers fly,
Mounted with Indian odours to the sky!
As rouzes oft the holy Bramin's flame,
Who unemployed, unvexed with aught below,
Stranger to vice, to folly, and to woe,
In sweet retirement fixes his abode,
Marks blooming Nature, and adores her GOD.
Him, reverend sage, nor grief nor pain assail,
Health, peace, and fragrance breathe in every gale:
At eve, when Zephyr waves the stately trees,
His inspiration rises with the breeze;
Quick to the throne of grace his vespers fly,
Mounted with Indian odours to the sky!
208
Be all my wanderings from this moment o'er,
And let me waste my fleeting life no more;
Be it, henceforth, my steady care to find
Health for my body, virtue for my mind;
Firmly to execute the noble plan
That forms the youth, and dignifies the man;
Enables us each human shock to brave,
To smile in age, nor shudder at the grave.
And let me waste my fleeting life no more;
Be it, henceforth, my steady care to find
Health for my body, virtue for my mind;
Firmly to execute the noble plan
That forms the youth, and dignifies the man;
Enables us each human shock to brave,
To smile in age, nor shudder at the grave.
When Pleasure courts me to her fatal arms
With all the glitter of delusive charms;
When Habit steps forth from her gaudy train,
And strives to lead me captive in his chain,
Let thy strong influence cheer my languid heart,
Bravely to act the moral hero's part,
To think how odious any deed must be
Ever condemned, in Nature's course, by Thee:
Before me too let Virtue be pourtrayed,
In all her winning majesty arrayed;
Let Memory ancient precedents compare,
Examples hideous, and examples fair;
Observe how Macedonia's frantic youth,
Deserting all his Aristotle's truth,
To passion, and excess his life resigned,
The murderer of himself, and human kind!
With all the glitter of delusive charms;
When Habit steps forth from her gaudy train,
And strives to lead me captive in his chain,
Let thy strong influence cheer my languid heart,
Bravely to act the moral hero's part,
To think how odious any deed must be
Ever condemned, in Nature's course, by Thee:
Before me too let Virtue be pourtrayed,
In all her winning majesty arrayed;
Let Memory ancient precedents compare,
Examples hideous, and examples fair;
Observe how Macedonia's frantic youth,
Deserting all his Aristotle's truth,
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The murderer of himself, and human kind!
Let Brutus to my fancy next appear,
Brutus, whose name commands a patriot's tear!
Who in a factious, dissipated state,
Aspired by goodness only to be great;
Still perfect rectitude he strove to gain,
Unmoved by fear, by pleasure, or by pain;
And closed his conduct with a glorious doom,
Victim to Virtue, Liberty, and Rome!
Brutus, whose name commands a patriot's tear!
Who in a factious, dissipated state,
Aspired by goodness only to be great;
Still perfect rectitude he strove to gain,
Unmoved by fear, by pleasure, or by pain;
And closed his conduct with a glorious doom,
Victim to Virtue, Liberty, and Rome!
Still warm me with thy true Religion's flame,
Benevolence and it are sure the same;
Let me not form instead of substance court,
The idiot-actor of a holy sport;
Let me detest a furious party zeal,
And strive to forward universal weal:
Where'er thy providence and rule extend,
There let my interest, my affections blend;
Let me the Good as friends and neighbours view,
An honest Turk, a Christian, or a Jew.
Benevolence and it are sure the same;
Let me not form instead of substance court,
The idiot-actor of a holy sport;
Let me detest a furious party zeal,
And strive to forward universal weal:
Where'er thy providence and rule extend,
There let my interest, my affections blend;
Let me the Good as friends and neighbours view,
An honest Turk, a Christian, or a Jew.
210
Inspire my breast with sentiments humane,
And let me listen when the poor complain:
Let me make all their hapless chance my own,
Heave sigh for sigh, and echo groan for groan;
Be mine the joy to bid the hungry live,
And prop the being Thou art pleased to give.
And let me listen when the poor complain:
Let me make all their hapless chance my own,
Heave sigh for sigh, and echo groan for groan;
Be mine the joy to bid the hungry live,
And prop the being Thou art pleased to give.
My Poetry to Thee, my God, I owe;
And Thou, again, hast given my verse to flow.
Then never may the talent be applied
To plead for villainy, or flatter pride:
Thou, and the Good be subjects of my praise;
Free from corruption let my generous lays
Defend the worthy, and the bad assail,
Though legal tyrants hawl me to a jail.
And Thou, again, hast given my verse to flow.
Then never may the talent be applied
To plead for villainy, or flatter pride:
Thou, and the Good be subjects of my praise;
Free from corruption let my generous lays
Defend the worthy, and the bad assail,
Though legal tyrants hawl me to a jail.
Oh! let me studiously my soul refine!
Henceforth be knowledge, and be virtue mine!
Undaunted let me urge the glorious aim,
Let nought beneath it my attention claim,
And yet thy vital spirit longer give:
Let me not die till I have learnt to live!
This maxim to my mind be present still,
“Our happiness depends upon our will;”
That no peculiar station it assumes,
Is not essential to the warriour's plumes,
The king's dominion, or the hermit's beads;
The sure reward alone of virtuous deeds:
With gold and titles will not always thrive,
And dwells, perhaps, with Conway more than Clive.
Henceforth be knowledge, and be virtue mine!
Undaunted let me urge the glorious aim,
Let nought beneath it my attention claim,
And yet thy vital spirit longer give:
Let me not die till I have learnt to live!
This maxim to my mind be present still,
“Our happiness depends upon our will;”
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Is not essential to the warriour's plumes,
The king's dominion, or the hermit's beads;
The sure reward alone of virtuous deeds:
With gold and titles will not always thrive,
And dwells, perhaps, with Conway more than Clive.
Oft let me from a jarring world retire,
And wake Philosophy's ecstatic fire;
Think on my God along the sounding shore,
And listen to his power in Ocean's roar;
Reflect how great the Lord of all things reigns,
Who heaves the billows, and their force restrains.
Oft through the fragrant meadow let me rove,
And catch a lecture in the tuneful grove:
For Thou inspirest Philomela's note,
And pourest music from the linnet's throat;
From Thee the thrush hath his melodious trill;
Thine are the soothings of the gentle rill;
Stronger by Thee the rapid river flows,
By Thee the oak magnificently grows:
Thy energy the heavenly host pervades,
Not merely vigorous in our tranquil shades;
Thou art not stinted to this little ball,
Thy presence fills, connects, and governs all.
And wake Philosophy's ecstatic fire;
Think on my God along the sounding shore,
And listen to his power in Ocean's roar;
Reflect how great the Lord of all things reigns,
Who heaves the billows, and their force restrains.
Oft through the fragrant meadow let me rove,
And catch a lecture in the tuneful grove:
For Thou inspirest Philomela's note,
And pourest music from the linnet's throat;
From Thee the thrush hath his melodious trill;
Thine are the soothings of the gentle rill;
Stronger by Thee the rapid river flows,
By Thee the oak magnificently grows:
Thy energy the heavenly host pervades,
Not merely vigorous in our tranquil shades;
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Thy presence fills, connects, and governs all.
Yet let me frequently thy goodness trace,
And power amazing in the human race;
Worship with gratitude, the bounteous hand
That formed the social, adamantine band;
That varying geniuses on man bestowed,
As vegetation lives in many a mode:
As here a tulip, there a lily blows,
Here too a Shakespeare, there a Locke arose;
Harmonious differences compose the whole,
Bright emblems of the Universal Soul!
And power amazing in the human race;
Worship with gratitude, the bounteous hand
That formed the social, adamantine band;
That varying geniuses on man bestowed,
As vegetation lives in many a mode:
As here a tulip, there a lily blows,
Here too a Shakespeare, there a Locke arose;
Harmonious differences compose the whole,
Bright emblems of the Universal Soul!
Nor may I sourly scruple to engage
In customs, and amusements of the age,
So long as neither my attention draw
From Thee, GREAT GODHEAD, and Thy sacred law!
Yes, let me ever study to endear
Myself to man (for man's Thy image here)
Whilst I discharge to Virtue what I owe,
Nor dignity, by cringing, feels a blow.
What boots, alas! a stupid Roman spell,
The cruel sackcloth, and the moss-grown cell?
Can such vain gew-gaws our Creator please?
No,—there's no purity, no sense in these:
And though the passion may not be avowed,
Becket, the saint, is Becket, still, the proud.
In customs, and amusements of the age,
So long as neither my attention draw
From Thee, GREAT GODHEAD, and Thy sacred law!
Yes, let me ever study to endear
Myself to man (for man's Thy image here)
Whilst I discharge to Virtue what I owe,
Nor dignity, by cringing, feels a blow.
213
The cruel sackcloth, and the moss-grown cell?
Can such vain gew-gaws our Creator please?
No,—there's no purity, no sense in these:
And though the passion may not be avowed,
Becket, the saint, is Becket, still, the proud.
And if a noble-minded friend I find,
Mild to my failings, to my virtues kind;
Who ever holds my smiling fortune dear,
And o'er my misery drops a tender tear;
Oh! let my breast with equal transport burn,
Ready such tribute always to return;
From gratitude not meanly to be scared,
Though gibbets, wheels, and faggots were prepared.
Mild to my failings, to my virtues kind;
Who ever holds my smiling fortune dear,
And o'er my misery drops a tender tear;
Oh! let my breast with equal transport burn,
Ready such tribute always to return;
From gratitude not meanly to be scared,
Though gibbets, wheels, and faggots were prepared.
Assist me, ever, Nature's course to steer,
My body healthful, and my conscience clear;
Discharging all my duties here below,
All that to others, and myself I owe:
These points alone the real owners bless,
More makes none happy, happy none with less!
My body healthful, and my conscience clear;
Discharging all my duties here below,
All that to others, and myself I owe:
These points alone the real owners bless,
More makes none happy, happy none with less!
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Thus, when at last, my strenuous race I've run,
No business of importance left undone;
When strength no more it's force elastic lends,
And flagging life to it's conclusion tends;
Let not my age contempt by bustling meet,
But may I wisely seek some calm retreat;
For action, and for books, alike unfit,
Down to sweet recollection let me sit;
Hope humbly for compassion at Thy throne,
And glide serenely to a world unknown!
No business of importance left undone;
When strength no more it's force elastic lends,
And flagging life to it's conclusion tends;
Let not my age contempt by bustling meet,
But may I wisely seek some calm retreat;
For action, and for books, alike unfit,
Down to sweet recollection let me sit;
Hope humbly for compassion at Thy throne,
And glide serenely to a world unknown!
| The Poetical Works of Percival Stockdale | |