 | The Poetical Works of John Scott |  |
311
SONNETS AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.
312
[_]
The following Sonnets, and the Stanzas addressed to Mrs. Macaulay, appeared in Pearch's Collection of Poems, published in 1770. The remaining Pieces are now first printed.
313
SONNETS.
SONNET I. APOLOGY FOR RETIREMENT. 1766.
Why asks my Friend what cheers my passing day,
Where these lone fields my rural home inclose,
That all the pomp the crowded City shows
Ne'er from that home allures my steps away?
Where these lone fields my rural home inclose,
That all the pomp the crowded City shows
Ne'er from that home allures my steps away?
Now thro' the upland shade I musing stray,
And catch the gale that o'er the woodbine blows;
Now in the meads on river banks repose,
And breathe rich odour from the new-mown hay:
And catch the gale that o'er the woodbine blows;
Now in the meads on river banks repose,
And breathe rich odour from the new-mown hay:
Now pleas'd I read the poet's lofty lay,
Where music fraught with useful knowledge flows;
Now Delia's converse makes the moments gay,
The Maid for love and innocence I chose:
O Friend! the man who joys like these can taste,
On vice and folly needs no hour to waste.
Where music fraught with useful knowledge flows;
Now Delia's converse makes the moments gay,
The Maid for love and innocence I chose:
O Friend! the man who joys like these can taste,
On vice and folly needs no hour to waste.
314
SONNET II. TO DELIA. 1766.
Thrice has the Year its varied circuit run,
And swiftly, Delia, have the moments flown,
Since with my love for Thee my care begun,
To improve thy tender mind to science prone.
And swiftly, Delia, have the moments flown,
Since with my love for Thee my care begun,
To improve thy tender mind to science prone.
The flatteries of my sex I bade Thee shun,
I bade Thee shun the manners of thy own;
Fictitious manners, by example won,
That ill for loss of innocence atone!
I bade Thee shun the manners of thy own;
Fictitious manners, by example won,
That ill for loss of innocence atone!
Say, generous Maiden, in whose gentle breast
Dwells simple Nature, undisguis'd by Art,
Now amply tried by Time's unerring test,
How just the dictates of this faithful heart;
Which, with the joys thy favouring smiles impart,
Deems all its care repaid, itself supremely blest!
Dwells simple Nature, undisguis'd by Art,
Now amply tried by Time's unerring test,
How just the dictates of this faithful heart;
Which, with the joys thy favouring smiles impart,
Deems all its care repaid, itself supremely blest!
315
SONNET III. AFTER READING SHENSTONE'S ELEGIES. 1766.
The gentle Shenstone much of Fortune' plain'd,
Where Nature's hand the liberal spirit gave;
Partial, her bounty she too oft restrain'd,
But pour'd it full on Folly's tasteless slave.
Where Nature's hand the liberal spirit gave;
Partial, her bounty she too oft restrain'd,
But pour'd it full on Folly's tasteless slave.
By her alike my humble prayer disdain'd,
She stern denies the only boon I crave;
O'er my fields, fair as those Elysian feign'd,
To bid the green walk wind, the green wood wave.
She stern denies the only boon I crave;
O'er my fields, fair as those Elysian feign'd,
To bid the green walk wind, the green wood wave.
On the high hill to raise the higher tower,
To ope wide prospects over distant plains,
Where by broad rivers towns and villas rise;
Taste prompts the wish, but Fortune bounds the power:
Yet while Health cheers, and Competence sustains,
These more than all, Contentment bids me prize.
To ope wide prospects over distant plains,
Where by broad rivers towns and villas rise;
Taste prompts the wish, but Fortune bounds the power:
Yet while Health cheers, and Competence sustains,
These more than all, Contentment bids me prize.
316
SONNET IV. PREFIXED TO LANGHORNE'S POETICAL WORKS. 1766.
Langhorne! unknown to me (sequester'd swain!)
Save by the Muse's soul-enchanting lay,
To kindred spirits never sung in vain;
Accept the tribute of this light essay.
Save by the Muse's soul-enchanting lay,
To kindred spirits never sung in vain;
Accept the tribute of this light essay.
Sweet are thy songs, they oft amuse my day;
Of Fancy's visions while I hear thee 'plain,
While Scotland's honours claim thy pastoral strain,
Or Music comes o'er Handel tears to pay.
Of Fancy's visions while I hear thee 'plain,
While Scotland's honours claim thy pastoral strain,
Or Music comes o'er Handel tears to pay.
For all thy Irwan's flowery banks display,
Thy Persian Lover, and his Indian fair;
For all Theodosius' mournful lines convey,
When Pride and Avarice part a matchless Pair;
Receive just praise, and wreaths that ne'er decay,
By Fame and Virtue twin'd for thee to wear.
Thy Persian Lover, and his Indian fair;
For all Theodosius' mournful lines convey,
When Pride and Avarice part a matchless Pair;
Receive just praise, and wreaths that ne'er decay,
By Fame and Virtue twin'd for thee to wear.
317
SONNET V. TO BRITAIN. 1766.
Renown'd Britannia! lov'd Parental Land!
Regard thy welfare with a watchful eye!
Whene'er the weight of Want's afflicting hand
Wakes in thy vales the Poor's persuasive cry—
Regard thy welfare with a watchful eye!
Whene'er the weight of Want's afflicting hand
Wakes in thy vales the Poor's persuasive cry—
When wealth enormous sets the Oppressor high,
When bribes thy ductile senators command,
And slaves in office freemen's rights withstand;
Then mourn, for then thy fate approacheth nigh!
When bribes thy ductile senators command,
And slaves in office freemen's rights withstand;
Then mourn, for then thy fate approacheth nigh!
Not from perfidious Gaul or haughty Spain,
Nor all the neighbouring nations of the main,
Tho' leagued in war tremendous round thy shore—
But from Thyself, thy ruin must proceed!
Nor boast thy power; for know it is decreed,
Thy freedom lost, thy power shall be no more!
Nor all the neighbouring nations of the main,
Tho' leagued in war tremendous round thy shore—
But from Thyself, thy ruin must proceed!
Nor boast thy power; for know it is decreed,
Thy freedom lost, thy power shall be no more!
318
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.
STANZAS
ON READING MRS. MACAULAY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 1766.
To Albion's bards the Muse of History spoke:
‘Record the glories of your native land,
‘How Power's rude chain her sons' brave efforts broke,
‘And the keen scourge tore from Oppression's hand.
‘Record the glories of your native land,
‘How Power's rude chain her sons' brave efforts broke,
‘And the keen scourge tore from Oppression's hand.
‘Give to renown the Patriot's noble deeds;
‘Brand with disgrace the Tyrant's hated name;
‘Tho' Falsehood oft awhile the mind misleads,
‘Impartial Time bestows impartial fame.’
‘Brand with disgrace the Tyrant's hated name;
‘Tho' Falsehood oft awhile the mind misleads,
‘Impartial Time bestows impartial fame.’
319
She said; and soon the lofty lyre they strung,
But artful chang'd the subject and the lore;
Of kings, and courts, and courtly slaves they sung,
And gloss'd with vain applause their actions o'er.
But artful chang'd the subject and the lore;
Of kings, and courts, and courtly slaves they sung,
And gloss'd with vain applause their actions o'er.
The servile strain the Muse indignant heard;
Anxious for truth, for public virtue warm,
She Freedom's faithful advocate appear'd,
And bore on earth the fair Macaulay's form.
Anxious for truth, for public virtue warm,
She Freedom's faithful advocate appear'd,
And bore on earth the fair Macaulay's form.
320
ELEGY IN THE MANNER OF HAMMOND;
SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN IN THE AUTHOR'S GARDEN, DURING A STORM. 1756.
Blow on, ye Winds! exert your utmost rage,
Sweep o'er the dome, or thro' the forest howl!
Could North with South, or East with West engage,
What were their war to that within my soul?
Sweep o'er the dome, or thro' the forest howl!
Could North with South, or East with West engage,
What were their war to that within my soul?
There adverse passions fierce contention hold,
There Love and Pride maintain alternate sway,
There fell Despair's dark clouds on clouds are roll'd,
And veil Hope's transient, faint, delusive ray!
There Love and Pride maintain alternate sway,
There fell Despair's dark clouds on clouds are roll'd,
And veil Hope's transient, faint, delusive ray!
Too charming Sylvia! dear capricious Fair!
What strange perplexing change of mind is thine!
No more thy smiles I'll trust, thy frowns I'll bear;
I'll shun the beauty that must ne'er be mine!
What strange perplexing change of mind is thine!
No more thy smiles I'll trust, thy frowns I'll bear;
I'll shun the beauty that must ne'er be mine!
321
Was it for thee I form'd this fair retreat,
Bade thro' the grove the smooth walk wind away,
Adorn'd that walk with many a rustic seat,
And by those seats bade tinkling runnels stray;
Bade thro' the grove the smooth walk wind away,
Adorn'd that walk with many a rustic seat,
And by those seats bade tinkling runnels stray;
Along my sunny wall the fruit-tree spread,
Upon my eves expos'd the curling vine,
Around my door the spicy woodbine led,
Beneath my window saw the jasmine twine?
Upon my eves expos'd the curling vine,
Around my door the spicy woodbine led,
Beneath my window saw the jasmine twine?
Blow on, ye Winds! exert your utmost power,
Rage thro' my groves, and bear down every tree;
Blast the fair fruit, and crush the blooming flower—
For Sylvia's lost, and these are nought to me!
Rage thro' my groves, and bear down every tree;
Blast the fair fruit, and crush the blooming flower—
For Sylvia's lost, and these are nought to me!
322
THE AUTHOR TO HIS WIFE. 1776.
Friend of my heart, by favouring Heaven bestow'd,My lov'd Companion on Life's various road!
Now six swift years have wing'd their flight away
Since yon bright Sun adorn'd our nuptial day—
For thy sweet smiles, that all my cares remove,
Sooth all my griefs, and all my joys improve;
For thy sweet converse, ever fram'd to please,
With prudence lively, sensible with ease;
To Thee the Muse awakes her tuneful lay,
The thanks of gratitude sincere to pay!
Thus long may Hymen hold for us his reign,
And twine with wreaths of flowers his easy chain;
Still may fond love and firmest faith be mine,
Still health, and peace, and happiness be thine!
323
STANZAS
WRITTEN AT MEDHURST IN SUSSEX,
ON THE AUTHOR'S RETURN FROM CHICHESTER, WHERE HE HAD ATTEMPTED IN VAIN TO FIND THE BURIAL-PLACE OF COLLINS.
To view the beauties of my native land,
O'er many a pleasing distant scene I rove;
Now climb the rock, or wander on the strand,
Or trace the rill, or penetrate the grove.
O'er many a pleasing distant scene I rove;
Now climb the rock, or wander on the strand,
Or trace the rill, or penetrate the grove.
From Baia's hills, from Portsea's spreading wave,
To fair Cicestria's lonely walls I stray;
To her fam'd Poet's venerated grave,
Anxious my tribute of respect to pay .
To fair Cicestria's lonely walls I stray;
To her fam'd Poet's venerated grave,
Anxious my tribute of respect to pay .
324
O'er the dim pavement of the solemn fane,
'Midst the rude stones that crowd the adjoining space,
The sacred spot I seek, but seek in vain;
In vain I ask—for none can point the place.
'Midst the rude stones that crowd the adjoining space,
The sacred spot I seek, but seek in vain;
In vain I ask—for none can point the place.
What boots the eye whose quick observant glance
Marks every nobler, every fairer form?
What the skill'd ear that sound's sweet charms intrance,
And the fond breast with generous passion warm?
Marks every nobler, every fairer form?
What the skill'd ear that sound's sweet charms intrance,
And the fond breast with generous passion warm?
What boots the power each image to pourtray,
The power with force each feeling to express?
How vain the hope that thro' Life's little day,
The soul with thought of future fame can bless?
The power with force each feeling to express?
How vain the hope that thro' Life's little day,
The soul with thought of future fame can bless?
While Folly frequent boasts the insculptur'd tomb,
By Flattery's pen inscrib'd with purchas'd praise;
While Rustic Labour's undistinguish'd doom
Fond Friendship's hand records in humble phrase;
By Flattery's pen inscrib'd with purchas'd praise;
While Rustic Labour's undistinguish'd doom
Fond Friendship's hand records in humble phrase;
325
Of Genius oft and Learning worse the lot;
For them no care, to them no honour shown :
Alive neglected, and when dead forgot,
Even Collins slumbers in a grave unknown.
For them no care, to them no honour shown :
Alive neglected, and when dead forgot,
Even Collins slumbers in a grave unknown.
Flow, Lavant, flow! along thy sedgy shore
Bear the fraught vessel from the neighbouring main!
Enrich thy sons!—but on thy banks no more
May lofty Poet breathe his tuneful strain!
Bear the fraught vessel from the neighbouring main!
Enrich thy sons!—but on thy banks no more
May lofty Poet breathe his tuneful strain!
This censure may seem too general—perhaps it is so. But must it not be allowed that the Public is capricious in bestowing its honours? Does not Westminster Abbey show monuments erected to men, as poets, who had little or no title to the name, while it contains no memorials of writers of far superior merit?
326
VERSES
TO A FRIEND, PLANTING.
Proceed, my Friend, pursue thy healthful toil,—Dispose thy ground, and meliorate thy soil;
Range thy young plants in walks, or clumps, or bowers,
Diffuse o'er sunny banks thy fragrant flowers;
And, while the new creation round thee springs,
Enjoy uncheck'd the guiltless bliss it brings:
But hope no more. Tho' Fancy forward stray
There scenes of distant pleasure to survey,
To expatiate fondly o'er the future grove,
The happy haunt of Friendship and of Love;
Know, each fair image form'd within thy mind,
Far wide of truth thy sickening sight shall find!
327
TO AN ABSENT FRIEND.
While thou far hence on Albion's southern shore,
View'st her white rocks, and hear'st her ocean roar;
Thro' scenes, where we together stray'd, I stray,
And think o'er talk of many a long-past day.
View'st her white rocks, and hear'st her ocean roar;
Thro' scenes, where we together stray'd, I stray,
And think o'er talk of many a long-past day.
That favourite park now tempts my steps again,
On whose green turf so oft at ease we have lain;
While Hertford's turrets rose in prospect fair,
And my fond thought beheld my Sylvia there;
And much the Muse rehears'd in careless lays
The Lover's sufferings and the Beauty's praise.
On whose green turf so oft at ease we have lain;
While Hertford's turrets rose in prospect fair,
And my fond thought beheld my Sylvia there;
And much the Muse rehears'd in careless lays
The Lover's sufferings and the Beauty's praise.
Those elm-crown'd fields now oft my walk invite,
Whence Lee's wide vale lies pleasant to the sight;
Where, as our view o'er towns and villas roll'd,
Our fancy imag'd how they look'd of old;
When Gothic mansions there uprear'd their towers,
Their halls for banquet, and for rest their bowers.
Whence Lee's wide vale lies pleasant to the sight;
Where, as our view o'er towns and villas roll'd,
Our fancy imag'd how they look'd of old;
328
Their halls for banquet, and for rest their bowers.
But, O my Friend! whene'er I seek these scenes
Of lovely prospects and delightful greens;
Regardless idly of the joy possess'd,
I dream of days to come, of days more blest,
When thou with me shalt wander here once more,
And we shall talk again our favourite topics o'er.
Of lovely prospects and delightful greens;
Regardless idly of the joy possess'd,
I dream of days to come, of days more blest,
When thou with me shalt wander here once more,
And we shall talk again our favourite topics o'er.
On Time's smooth current as we glide along,
Thus Expectation ever tunes her song:
‘Fair these green banks with gaudy flow'rets bloom,
‘Sweet breathe these gales, diffusing rich perfume;
‘Heed, heed them not, but carelessly pass by,
‘To-morrow fairer, sweeter will supply.’
To-morrow comes—the same the Syren's lay—
‘To-morrow sweeter gales, and flow'rets still more gay.’
Thus Expectation ever tunes her song:
‘Fair these green banks with gaudy flow'rets bloom,
‘Sweet breathe these gales, diffusing rich perfume;
‘Heed, heed them not, but carelessly pass by,
‘To-morrow fairer, sweeter will supply.’
To-morrow comes—the same the Syren's lay—
‘To-morrow sweeter gales, and flow'rets still more gay.’
329
THE SHEPHERD's ELEGY;
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF AN INGENIOUS FRIEND.
Upon a bank with spreading boughs o'erhung,
Of pollard oak, brown elm, and hornbeam grey,
The faded fern and russet grass among,
While rude winds swept the yellow leaves away,
And scatter'd o'er the ground the wild fruits lay;
As from the churchyard came the village throng,
Down sat a rural bard, and rais'd his mournful song.
Of pollard oak, brown elm, and hornbeam grey,
The faded fern and russet grass among,
While rude winds swept the yellow leaves away,
And scatter'd o'er the ground the wild fruits lay;
As from the churchyard came the village throng,
Down sat a rural bard, and rais'd his mournful song.
‘Nature's best gifts, alas, in vain we prize!
‘The powers that please, the powers that pleasure gain!
‘For O with them, in full proportion, rise
‘The powers of giving and of feeling pain!
‘Why from my breast now bursts this plaintive strain?
‘Genius, my Friend! with all its charms was thine,
‘And sensibility too exquisite is mine!
‘The powers that please, the powers that pleasure gain!
‘For O with them, in full proportion, rise
‘The powers of giving and of feeling pain!
‘Why from my breast now bursts this plaintive strain?
330
‘And sensibility too exquisite is mine!
‘There low he lies!—that head in dust repos'd,
‘Whose active thought scann'd every various theme!
‘Clos'd is that eye, for ever, ever clos'd,
‘Whence wont the blaze of sentiment to beam!
‘Mute is that tongue, whence flow'd the copious stream
‘Of eloquence, whose moral lore so rare
‘Delighted and improv'd the listening Young and Fair.
‘Whose active thought scann'd every various theme!
‘Clos'd is that eye, for ever, ever clos'd,
‘Whence wont the blaze of sentiment to beam!
‘Mute is that tongue, whence flow'd the copious stream
‘Of eloquence, whose moral lore so rare
‘Delighted and improv'd the listening Young and Fair.
‘Witness for me, ye rain-polluted rills;
‘Ye desart meads, that one brown hue display;
‘Ye rude east-winds, whose breath the dank air chills;
‘Ye hovering clouds, that veil the Sun's faint ray!
‘Witness, as annual here my steps shall stray,
‘How his dear image thought shall still recall,
‘And oft the sigh shall heave, and oft the tear shall fall!’
‘Ye desart meads, that one brown hue display;
‘Ye rude east-winds, whose breath the dank air chills;
‘Ye hovering clouds, that veil the Sun's faint ray!
‘Witness, as annual here my steps shall stray,
‘How his dear image thought shall still recall,
‘And oft the sigh shall heave, and oft the tear shall fall!’
331
As cease the murmurs of the mantling pool,
As cease the whispers of the poplar spray,
While o'er the vale the white mist rises cool
At the calm sunset of a summer's day—
So softly, sweetly ceas'd the Shepherd's lay:
While down the pathway to the hamlet plain
Return'd, with lingering steps, the pensive rural train.
As cease the whispers of the poplar spray,
While o'er the vale the white mist rises cool
At the calm sunset of a summer's day—
So softly, sweetly ceas'd the Shepherd's lay:
While down the pathway to the hamlet plain
Return'd, with lingering steps, the pensive rural train.
332
ON THE INGENIOUS MR. JONES'S ELEGANT TRANSLATIONS AND IMITATIONS OF EASTERN POETRY,
AND HIS RESOLUTION TO DECLINE TRANSLATING THE PERSIAN POETS.
The Asian Muse, a Stranger fair!Becomes at length Britannia's care;
And Hafiz' lays, and Sadi's strains,
Resound along our Thames's plains.
They sing not all of streams and bowers,
Or banquet scenes, or social hours;
Nor all of Beauty's blooming charms,
Or War's rude fields, or feats of arms;
But Freedom's lofty notes sincere,
And Virtue's moral lore severe.
333
The scarcely-tasted pleasure's o'er!
For He, the Bard whose tuneful art
Can best their varied themes impart—
For He, alas! the task declines;
And Taste, at loss irreparable, repines.
334
CONCLUSION.
TO A FRIEND.
When erst the Enthusiast Fancy's reign
Indulg'd the wild, romantic thought,
That wander'd 'midst Arcadian vales,
Sicilian streams, Arabian gales;
Blest climes, with wond'rous pleasures fraught,
Sweet pleasures, unalloy'd with pain!
Indulg'd the wild, romantic thought,
That wander'd 'midst Arcadian vales,
Sicilian streams, Arabian gales;
Blest climes, with wond'rous pleasures fraught,
Sweet pleasures, unalloy'd with pain!
When Observation's calmer view
Remark'd the real state of things;
Whate'er amusive one obtain'd,
Whate'er of use the other gain'd,
To thee my verse a tribute brings,
A tribute to thy friendship due.
Remark'd the real state of things;
Whate'er amusive one obtain'd,
Whate'er of use the other gain'd,
To thee my verse a tribute brings,
A tribute to thy friendship due.
335
Accept then this, nor more require:
The Muse no further task essays;
But 'midst the sylvan scenes she loves,
The falling rills, and whispering groves,
With smiles her labours past surveys,
And quits the syrinx and the lyre.
The Muse no further task essays;
But 'midst the sylvan scenes she loves,
The falling rills, and whispering groves,
With smiles her labours past surveys,
And quits the syrinx and the lyre.
| The Poetical Works of John Scott | |