Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric by the Revd. H. Boyd ... containing the following dramatic poems: The Helots, a tragedy, The Temple of Vesta, The Rivals, The Royal Message. Prize Poems, &c. &c |
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| THE WANDERER,
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 | Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric |  |
483
THE WANDERER,
A LYRIC POEM, IN FOUR IRREGULAR ODES.
485
ODE THE FIRST. THE SHEPHERD'S DREAM.
I.
“Trench the turf, and delve it deep“Raise my camp's eternal mound
“Build the long embattled sweep
“Flanking wide the vale profound!
“Point the passes, dark and dread
“Where my free-born sons afar
“Thund'ring down, with measur'd tread
“Oft shall turn the tide of war
“Encamp ye storms! on yonder brow
“Tow'ring o'er the Leman wave
“Doom'd to whelm the hostile prow
“That dares her sacred flood to brave.”
Freedom thus to Nature spoke
When the Alpine range arose
486
O'er their height his virgin snows.
II.
Cradle of heroes! hail!Hail, proud hills, whose giant arms
Of marble mold, repell the storms
From the high-favour'd vale.
All hail! ye cloud-capt mounds, which nature gave
To check the proud barbarians headlong range.
To stem the northern tide's impulsive wave
And save the happy tribes from sudden change!
There like thy blue expanded lake
That drinks the Arar and the Rhone,
Thy native tribes a tincture take
Of those who from a colder zone
In daring search of sunnier vales
In thy deep glens a shelter found.
And yet, the dauntless stock prevails
Old Leman's lawny borders round
Before, the frontier lake extends
Swept ever by the mountain gale,
Rude ranger of her awful deep,
Whose high-commission'd whirlwinds keep
From the vext wave the hostile sail.
Behind the Alpine barrier bends,
Here Jura from his high cerulean brow
Surveys an hundred realms below
There Sion lifts his cloudy cone
Aspiring to the midnight moon
487
O'er thy proud ramparts to the welkin pil'd
The awful sound of revolution goes,
Oft, shadowing their eternal snows
Fell Tyranny hath wing'd her vulture flight
Nor on thy green vales dar'd to light
Scar'd at Freedom's dauntless eye
That flash'd defiance thro' the sky.
Southward she wheel'd, from her undaunted foes
On tamer tribes to prey.
When ancient Rome, with wild affray
Saw her new-rais'd temples fall.
Thou Helvetia! lent thine aid,
From thy vales, fermenting deep
Revolting from their iron sleep
O'er thy hills, the living tide
Swept the astonish'd vales in surging pride.
Desponding mute and still
Jove trembled for his hill,
Supprest his thund'ring pride,
And laid his bolts aside.
To them what were his mimic sires
Who from old Cenis awful spires
Or from Pennino's breezy brow
Heaven's light'ning oft had seen with dauntless eye
Glance along the frozen sky,
488
Nor had the Tullian thunders more prevail'd
The fate of Rome, by Heaven withheld
Had yet the start of yon revolving sphere
Before the destin'd year,
But Tyranny with wild alarm
Beheld the coming storm
And sent mistrust and breach of faith
(Her favourite ministers of old)
The bold confederates, bent on death
Disband, by Roman arts controll'd.
She call'd her Cæsar from his dark retreat,
Not “in loose numbers wildly sweet,”
And sent him forth to search the source
Whence those ills deriv'd their force.
He, as a chief whose troops invest the wall
Of some beelaguered castle strong,
Wanders, the shelving hills among
To find the spring, whose subterranean maze
The garrison's fierce thirst allays,
And keeps alive the war.
Thus, to the climes that front the Boreal star
He took his dauntless way.
489
From Berne and Uris' watry dales,
And Bafil's meads, and Leman's strand,
Burst away the countless band.
Pent in their narrow glens they long had mourn'd,
And for an ampler range of glory burn'd.
The demons of despotic sway,
With stern regard, from Sion's height
Saw the torrent burst away,
And bade their Cæsar check its flight.
Back to its source he bade the living torrent flow,
Back to its source the living torrent flow'd
The smother'd flame indignant glow'd
Ages long of torpid woe—
III.
Long centuries of chearless gloomLike a live lamp laid in a tomb,
It burn'd, and now the raging north
Had call'd again the conflagration forth.
But ere it blew, the demon of the soul
Had stretch'd his sway from pole to pole
And, not content, with iron rod
To sink to slaves the sons of God.
His Mulciberian arts refin'd
Forg'd the fetters of the mind,
490
Profane at will the curtain'd sleep
Display the blest Elysian bowers
The sentenc'd dead, the burning shores.
The silver fee, the sanguine scourge
That rescued from the flaming surge
And Mammon kept the door
Disguis'd in humble fisher's weed.
Like him of old by Heaven decreed,
To call the Gentile world from Jordan's hallow'd shore.
And here the demons too were found
Who on Bœotia's flow'ry bound
And Athens, erst with mystic rite
And orgies wild profan'd the night.
The archimage in saintly stole array'd
And she, like Una, heavenly maid
By wicked wiles, seductive art
Allur'd the crowd of simple heart.
They, in the symbols given to memorize
The dread event on which they built their faith.
Behold with fascinated eyes
Like Egypt's sons, a vegetable god
Spring in the green blade, flourish in the stem
And load, with seeming life, the bending ear.
At the lying wizard's word
A spell-wrought banquet crown'd the board,
491
Streaming from their Saviour's side.
Bland Ceres' gifts, by holy fraud
Instinct, with mystic life, became
Emanuel's rent, and agonizing frame
The living cates, receiv'd within
They taught, had power to cleanse the taint
Of new-committed sin
And of a murtherer make a saint.
The crowd in fancy, saw their bounteous Lord
And, hoodwink'd by the charm, they swallow'd and ador'd.
Repentance chang'd to mimic rites
To mutter'd prayers, and easy slights
The penal maze they trode with pain
And hasten'd back to sin again.
Or, was the penitent of wealth possest
The pious magian sooth'd his holy fears
With sovereign touch, the silver wand
Dry'd the salt spring of salutary tears
And calm oblivion touch'd his wounds with torpid hand.
The magic rites the fancy sir'd
Of the initiate train inspir'd
With visions new of op'ning glory
And, show'r'd like manna, heav'nly grace
Like him who erst in fabled story
At Jove's own banquets found a place.
Cemented now by magic slight
492
Despotic o'er the soul.
Beneath the moon the fabric rose
Sacred to Hades and old Night
And low'r'd defiance on her ancient foes.
But lo! the turns of fate
By night it rose and by a dream it fell,
The edifice of hell!
'Twas something more than fancy's plastic power
That fir'd the slumb'ring boy's extatic thought
(Whether in him the soul of Athens' sage
Walk'd again this earthly stage,
Or old Elijah's wrath at rites profane
Led him to leave the starry plain)
And held him high, by holy rapture caught
Above the haunted vale
Unfam'd by many an hideous tale
Of midnight spectres seen
Sweeping o'er the dewy green.
There many a baleful simple grew
Batt'ning in the midnight dew,
Two spectral forms he there beheld
Wand'ring round in vapours blue
The powers they seem'd, whose names of old
The Pagan world ador'd
The harvest Queen, the vineyard's Lord,
His bowl's red juice the Bromian King
Temper'd at Lethe's lurid spring
493
Portentous from the nether skies)
The wizard thus, and in her shadowy lap
The witch was seen to crop
The seeds of Lotos where it seem'd to grow
In many a goodly row.
She mixt it with the golden grain,
She fann'd it with her mystic vane.
IV.
A gorgeous temple in his dream appear'dAnd there an altar high was rear'd
And there the magic cup, the venom'd feast
Inviting every guest.
The suppliants came, they gorg'd, they quaff'd
And Folly rav'd and Frenzy laught,
Bland Superstition's trickling balm
Shed o'er each mind an holy calm.
Conscience felt the deadly wound
And sunk in vap'ry trance profound.
He wakes—he hears the fancy'd bell
That call'd the madding crowd
Distinct and loud
Again he hears
And hardly trusts his trembling ears
Again the brazen summons sounds
Again his trembling ear it wounds
494
He enters now the opening fane
He sees the magic bowl once more
The cates prepar'd with mystic lore
Where, as he gorg'd the magic food
The haughty mortal seem'd a God.
Heaven had purg'd the stripling's eyes,
Or active fancy drew
Again to his astonish'd view
The natives of the nether skies.
Flashing anger, pale surprize,
Alternate froze, alternate glow'd
On his pale cheek as he stood
And “oh,” he cry'd, “forbear, forbear!”
(The crowd their orisons withheld)
“See the fraudful phantoms there
“Whose sway the ancient world bewail'd
“They mix their dark spells with the saintly rite
“And haunt the holy roof in Heaven's despite
“See Ceres there, and Bacchus stand
“The magian with commission'd wand
“Deals on this forbidden ground
“His fell demonian charms around.”
“In league with fell despotic sway
“He bends your free-born souls to tremble and obey.
“Seize him,” the Flamen cry'd
(His bosom burning with pontific pride)
“Haste, bring that youth! some imp of hell
495
“Haste, exorcise the latent pest
“That harbours in his heaving breast
“And interrupts our heavenly rite!
“Hurl him to Hades and old Night.”
The Ministers obey'd the stern command
And seiz'd the youth with potent hand
The Priest his mutter'd spells began
And o'er his incantations ran.
The sacring bell began to toll
To disengage the lab'ring soul.
In vain—his eyes began to glow
His giant nerve repell'd the foe
While, from the full vase sprinkled frore
The sacred lymph bedew'd the floor.
With vigorous arm he dash'd around
The lifted cross,—the vase profound.
The magic book he hurls afar
And all the sacerdotal war.
Prostrate on earth in wild affray
Around the pale assistants lay
Sudden, the strange contagion spread
Revolt and faction rais'd its head
The madding crowd, as well as he
Clearly saw, or seem'd to see
The demon gods of ancient days
Partners of celestial praise.
496
Following their youthful guide, like Moses, to the wild.
V.
With more than moonstruck rage tyrannic powerBann'd aloud the luckless hour.
“Oh! had I been content,” he cry'd,
“With war and slaughter by my side
“To trust the trenchant sword alone
“Nor call for succour to the gown
“Nor let their cobweb arts essay
“To lead the multitude astray,
“Even ignorance, to thought unus'd
“Feels its implicit faith abus'd.
“But haste, ye Ministers of mine, who wield
“Far other and more deadly arms
“Nor vainly trust to futile charms!
“Pursue the fugitives, pursue
“While yet the bold revolt is new
“While yet it lies in woods conceal'd
“Ere thro' the long Helvetian vales
“This home-bred lunacy prevails.
“Call to the Tiber, Seine, and Loire
“To quench the rising flame, to join their liquid store
“And bid my favour'd Elbe and Rhine
“To aid my cause their force combine.”
Instant, his legions heard their Lord
Havock rous'd her northern horde
Discord fires the kindred trains
And Leman's lake with crimson stains.
497
'Mongst the shadowy cliffs combining
Feed the fray with magic breath
Bright conquest now to this, now that enclining.
Murther now, with stealthy pace
Wand'ring thro' the midnight gloom
The bold reformer holds in chace
To mark him for the tomb.
Safety is there for him no more
Tho' his faction still survives
And the blest energy to other realms derives.
Yet still by civil conflicts tost
Religion's patron seeks a safer coast
And in the northern ocean dips his oar.
Expedition of Cæsar in Gaul, his prevention of the Helvetic migration and conquest of that warlike people. Cæsar Com. l. 1.
Effects of papal superstition, which in some respects, prevented the good consequences which might have attended the irruption of the Goths.
There is, it is owned, something of anachronism in the foregoing ode. Religion had very little immediate influence on the first commencement of Helvetic liberty, which happened near a century before the reformation; whatever share the latter revolution might have had in the subsequent establishment of the Helvetic constitution.
498
ODE THE SECOND. THE SHEPHERD'S NUPTIALS.
I.
Citadel of freedom, hail!Majestic rising o'er the tempest-beaten main
Who to the persecuted train
On every blast, from every shore
Where regal frenzy dips his foot in gore
Giv'st an asylum in thy wave-worn pale
And beckonest with dumb welcome o'er
The far-discovered sail!
And not for nought,—for soon at hand
Yon pinace furls her sail, the Exile seeks the land.
Oh England! if thou lik'st to sleep
In tranquil slumbers folded deep
And hatest proud innovation's name,
Her lifted ax, her brandish'd flame,
499
The moody wanderer far from thee!
For this is he whose chanted psalm
Broke old Uris holy calm
In Berne the flag of freedom wav'd
And Rome's cowl'd squadrons singly brav'd
Loos'd the charms that lock'd the mind
And from thick films the mental eye refin'd
The chief to thee is fled, but leaves behind
Discord's rage that drowns the wind
Fierce debates, and wordy wars
Faction's feuds and kindred jars.
Till dear-bought freedom sends again
Her holy calm to bless her mountain reign.
II.
Has no sign his coming toldNo cause the refluent surge controll'd
No meteor fir'd the angry air
No comet stream'd a length of hair?—
Time should now affrighted stand
His idle weapon in his hand
The sun should halt in mid career
To see the wond'rous birth appear.—
His coming by no sign is told
The refluent surge is uncontroll'd.
No meteor fires the angry air,
No comet streams a length of hair,
Nor Time astonish'd seems to stand
Nor holds his scythe with idle hand,
500
To see the wond'rous birth appear.—
The simple train, that sees him land
With rustic welcome line the strand.
Nor, tho' he wears a look severe
His unthought coming seem to fear.
For not on them his coming lours
Who pass their spotless hours
In hamlets poor, an harass'd train
Up the hill, or o'er the plain.
No—yonder Flamen's proud abode
Fanes, which belie the name of God
Cloister'd cells, where prison'd deep
The mental powers in Lethes' sleep
Repose, or pamper'd passions rave
Like pent up storms in Æol's cave
Where Luxury pants, and oft by stealth
Draws a blinded nation's wealth,
They may fear, but they are drown'd
By wayward Fate in sleep profound
Nor mind (by torpid Sloth subdued,)
The menace of the mountain flood
Fed by many a secret rill
As the dews of evening still.
But soon the thund'ring tide will sweep
Their golden harvests to the deep
501
For many a winter seem to lye
Shall join the torrent's rapid flow
And lay your haughty fabrics low
For now the stranger in the wild
Late from Uris' bounds exil'd
Far within a sacred glade
Where hawthorns grew, a fenceful shade
Found a weeping widow, late
Sever'd from her faithful mate,
Her faithful mate, by cleric spite
(She thought) had sunk to endless night,
And now resolv'd to quit the shore
The reliques of their ancient store
They glean'd, resolv'd to cross the main
With her young blooming orphan train
Of these, a maid with heav'nly charms
The stranger's rugged bosom warms.
His suit the young Helvetian prest
And form'd an interest in her breast.
The matron heard the lover's prayer
And soon consenting blest the pair.
She seem'd her longing to retain
Of following Fate across the main,
502
And the blest exile clasp'd a son,
Short liv'd joy, to anguish turn'd!
Soon his loss the parents mourn'd.
Whether by vagrant thieves purloin'd
Who chanc'd the wand'ring boy to find,
Or moonlight fays (from bless exil'd)
Who fear'd the fortunes of the child
Not yet was known, And loud and long
His parents wail'd, by anguish stung
And both at once devoutly swore
To leave that sad, ill-omen'd shore,
They hoist the sail and court the wind
Leaving their eldest hope behind.
III.
Their eldest hope, an ancient croneHad borne away to glins unknown.
Skill'd in witching love was she
Her cot was by the ancient Dee,
Ancient Dee, of wizard name
Where still the fays their sabbath claim,
There, beneath the moony light
O'er the watry mirrour bright
Oft he saw his sires advance
Gleaming in the lunar glance,
Warriours old of Saxon brood
Who the tyrant sway withstood.
Now in wild, expressive strains
Bloody fields and broken chains.
503
Circling round in mazy ring.
The boy attends with sparkling eyes
To dauntless deeds of high emprize,
The glorious visions haunt his sleep
And shed th'infusion full and deep.
Now of heavenly truths she tells
Taught in hamlets, and in cells
By the Arimathæan old
Wafted here in times of gold.
Nothing now he seems to breathe
But ancient freedom, ancient faith,
Ancient laws, and ancient tales
And spreads them thro' the list'ning vales,
Like his restless sire of yore
Round old Leman's winding shore.
Soon the simple swains began
To crowd around the wond'rous man
And propagate his rapt'rous strains
O'er Britannia's list'ning plains.
Despotic power, with wild alarm
Call'd her levied bands to arm,
And bar'd her blade, and wav'd her brand
To drive the rebels from the land.
Captivity disclos'd her glooms
And peopled all her noisome rooms.
504
To crush the still encreasing train,
Who claim'd their rights, and knew their force,
Their bard had taught the sacred source
From which they drew their charters old
By ancient Monemon's care enroll'd.
But ah! too feeble is my song
To sing the conflict stern and strong,
The stratagems, the rage employ'd
The mighty quarrel to decide.
And now the roving muse the flight explores
Of that desponding pair who left Britannia's shores.
Origin of the puritanic spirit occasionally augmented by a communication with Geneva, and from a dislike of ecclesiastical government, causing frequent emigrations to New England and Pennsylvania, during the reigns of James the First and Charles.
The epithet despotic will not be thought too severe for the 12 first years of Charles First's reign, distinguished by arbitrary taxation, and a difuse of Parliament.
505
ODE THE THIRD. THE SHEPHERD'S VOYAGE.
I.
Should some strong hand unmoon the skyAnd spread from Demogorgon's loom
The curtain deep of Stygian gloom,
Nor leave a star, with twinkling eye
Our wand'ring planet to illume,
(Except some meteor broke the sable woof,
Shot thro' Heaven's umbrageous roof)
'Twould shew, our world's lamented plight,
Sunk in Slavery's thickest night,
When Freedom's ever-moving tide
From our sadden'd shores retir'd
Except one favour'd land, where fate conspir'd
To bid the doubtful blessing still abide,
Like the star that rules the flood
She bade her retinue obey
506
And mov'd in order west away.
Hesperia's groves obedient bow'd
As the pomp aerial past,
As o'er Oswego's tranquil flood
Her breezy robe the goddess cast,
With murmurs low the foamy waters curl'd
And hail'd the mistress of the we stern world.
The genii of the woods and waves
The spirits of the hills and caves
Her presence felt; the savage tribes
Each the sacred power imbibes,
But intellectual light alone
Could give the Queen a stedfast throne
Cecropia's old and equal laws
Rome's well digested code, and Alfred's ancient saws.
II.
Religion too, seraphic maidThe goddess call'd to aid,
Then to the climes from whence the day-spring flows
Where the confed'rate powers of heaven and earth
Matur'd of old the intellectual birth,
Where blooms the citron, and, the palm tree blows
She look'd for aid, for with the rising sun
The dawn of science first begun,
And with slow progress verging west
The world's revolving shores like travelling summer blest
507
Ordain'd from shore to shore to cull her precious freight,
The broad Atlantic first she skims,
Zibalterras sea-beat brims
She leaves, and many a far fam'd isle
To where Emanuel clos'd his earthly toil—
Thence, North by West the winged vessel steers
And from each Dorian, each Ionian coast,
Climes renown'd in ancient days
Themes of everlasting lays
A willing exile bears.
Thro' seas, by many a Land emboss'd
To Luna's port she plows her liquid road
Thence, by Massilia, thro' the midland flood
Then stems the tide to Calpes strand
To Britain thence, by Fate's command
Where on the shore the youthful stranger stood
Desponding on his wayward fate
With him his young and lovely mate
Ready to pass the foaming flood,
The vessel moor'd
They haste aboard,
The last of that heaven-destin'd freight.
III.
Now, 'twixt the old world and the newSuspended, like that favour'd crew
508
To save the last remains of mans' devoted seed,
They hover on the Atlantic deep.
Ah! would the banded West but rise
And drive them back to Dover's steep
Ere old Columbus gain the prize!
In vain the wish, in vain the prayer!
They go, transplanted to a kindlier mold
Where warmer suns sublime the year
Before our vales their blooms unfold!—
As Egypt fabled, from the west
Forgetful of his Indian bed
In new-born state triumphant drest
Another sun shall lift his head
And eastward turn his ardent face
And backward tread th'ecliptic way
The muses shall attend his race
And all the arts in bright array.
Hyperion's son shall wond'ring view
His glittering rival cross his car,
His steeds of mere ethereal hue
Whose footsteps sire the ambient air.
Of ripen'd fruits Hyperion boasts
The spreading palm, the sparkling gem
The golden hoard, the spicy coast
The offspring of his potent beam.
Not so, the lord of intellectual light
He bids the purest germs of genius bloom
509
And bids Virginia's warriours equal Rome.
See! how the rising zephyrs breathe away
Yon envious clouds that hide his sapphire throne!
See, Tyranny beholds with dire dismay,
And flies before the God from zone to zone.
IV.
But oh! presumptuous muse! detainThe frenzy of the rising strain—
—Yet, but the dubious dawn is seen
O'er th'Atlantic wavy green,
Columbus' world in soft repose
Yet no startling signal knows.
For yet her heavenly guests on alien ground
Roam in disguise like weary pilgrims round,
Yet, where they walk, the lawns extend
Desolation leaves the path
And, with less savage wreath
The woods around the hills their less'ning umbrage bend
The wood nymphs forc'd to leave the strand
Left a fearful curse behind,
And see it settles o'er the land
It blackens in the wind!
Hovering o'er the old world far
Brews the stygian storm
The god of battles climbs his car
Oppression, avarice, factious rage
Fanatic feuds, by many an age
510
See! where their victims crowd the strand
Some from the pressure of the tyrant's hand
Some by the spectre Want pursue'd
Some, by the restless spark within
Impell'd the watry world to roam
Impatient of a settled home,
Or by some stroke of cruel fate,
Hapless love, or ruthless hate,
Doom'd to trust the fickle wind
And leave their loves, their cares behind.
Each fiery spirit check'd at home
Or pent in deep oblivion's gloom,
There hop'd an ample range to find
For th'excursions of the mind.
With joy Oppression saw them go
And smooth'd his formidable brow
When those, he deem'd the demons of the storm
Who us'd to spread the wild alarm
And oft unsettled all his schemes
And often broke his golden dreams
Were gone, she hoped again to know
The halcyon days of bliss below,
As when Assyria felt his rod
And Persia own'd an earthly God.
Nor more the Spartan fife to hear
Deadly music to her ear.
511
In Lydian measure breath'd to soothe his tyrant reign.
V.
Oh! ill advis'd! because the parched valeRises in dust beneath the Orient blast.
To think the western storm no more will swell
To lay at once thy waving harvest waste?
That power which keeps the air in equal poise
And bids the viewless current ebb and flow,
Who now bids Auster load the humid skies
And now Aquilon sift his virgin snow.
That power, for wiser ends has sent the scourge
Of lawless power this weeping planet round,
He'll waft again his exile o'er the surge
And nations tremble at her Clarion's sound.
When he would call some great event to birth
To startle heaven, and shake the sons of earth,
He bids men's selfish views the fabric raise
And from his stormy rage elicits praise.
He calls the mental beam away
To the source of endless light
The passions hail the welcome night
And domineer with furious sway.
Then drives the vessel of the state
On the rocks of mad debate.
Despotic power, in the fierce conflict spent,
To fill her faint, exhausted veins
Quaffs the life-blood of the swains.
512
And their rous'd vengeance sweeps away
At once the plunder and the prey.
Thus man, by others harm untaught
Learns moderation from his own disastrous lot.
VI.
And thou, perfidious GaulThat lend'st thy weak hand to thy neighbour's ponderous fall
And swell'st the loud alarm afar
Where Boston breathes revenge and war
Ill does thy feeble pipe, with tuneful strife
Aspire to join its sounds with Sparta's fife.
Yet long enur'd to themes of glory
Soon it leaves the Lydian measure
Learn'd in scenes of courtly pleasure
Ere freedom op'd her wond'rous leaf of story.
O brainsick men! to think each slavish tool
Will come from this tremendous school,
With the same habitudes he felt before
On your voluptuous, smooth, seductive shore.
No—like the fam'd Trophonian grot
Where oft the sons of dance and song
At their first entrance frisk'd along
Then visited the world with alter'd sober thought.
Thy merry slaves are taught another mood
In yonder solemn groves beyond the flood.
Like Britons now they learn to think and feel,
And in the tyrant's face to lift the light'ning steel!
513
Felt by that Helvetian swain,
The Leman lake's resounding shore
Mourn'd thro' all her wide domain.
Him tho' thy dark, pernicious arts annoy'd,
And drove to Britain, thence to Georgia's wild;
And thought the spirit-stirring race destroy'd,
The parent lives, transplanted in the child.
Machinations of the French against the liberties and religion of Switzerland; and the persecutions of the puritans in England; set on foot partly by French politics.
514
ODE THE FOURTH. THE SHEPHERD'S RETURN.
I.
Who yon fated pipe bestow'dOn that wayward shepherd boy?
Hark! he charms the list'ning crowd
Where yon hill salutes the sky!
From Helvetian race he comes,
Of that haughty line is he
Which relentless Fortune dooms
Still to range from sea to sea.
On yon hill he takes his post,
Where advancing, van to van,
Leagu'd against the freeborn host
England's legions sweep the lawn.
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Freedom beats the jocund round,
While, unsinew'd by his lays
Britain stands in torpor bound.
Soon the tints of memory fade,
Glory warms her sons no more;
Factious feuds their ranks invade,
Selfish aims, and pleasures lore.
Strange effects of mingled strains!
Here in phalanx firm unite,
Levied new, the rustic swains,
And like veterans, brave the fight.
Blindfold there their foes invade,
Thoughtless march, and thoughtless fall;
In the gloomy ambuscade,
Like a net, surrounding all.
Rouse, Britannia, rouse to arms!
See another foe appear,
Gallia joins the loud alarms,
Point anew thy dreadful spear!
Again, old England's native courage glows,
She pours vindictive on her ancient foes.
Hastings draws the lineal sword,
By brave Plantagenet, in slaughter dy'd.
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And drop'd her libid pride.
But all in vain,
The wily train,
Avoids the coming foe;
His rage beguiles
And mocks his toils,
And wards the lifted blow.
Rest of her conquests, by their usual art,
Britannia mounts the deck with vengeful heart;
Resolv'd, since all her toils by land are vain,
To vindicate the waves, and chace them from the main.
II.
And now, perfidious Gaul, to vast designsExpands the powers of her ambitious soul;
In fancy now she grasps Potosi's mines,
And rules the western world from pole to pole:
And many a province, for her equal meed,
In thought she claims, rapacious as of old,
When sad Alsatia saw her shepherds bleed
And Belgia's plains a tale of carnage told.
But when the Guardian of the clime,
Heard from her cloudy throne, afar,
The murmurs of the sinking war;
From her seat sublime
She watch'd the future births of time,
And saw the dangers dread, and near
To her nacent realm appear:
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To the fount of Niagar,
As the pale night's witching noon,
The mighty mother bent her car.
She call'd the Power who sends the flood
Down the loud resounding steep,
Before her face the vision stood,
Like blue mist steaming from the deep.
“Haste,” she cry'd, “your parent power
“Seek beneath the briny wave,
“Revolutions charge the hour
“Man's best rights his aidance crave.
“Tell the floods, when you convene
“In the palace of your sire,
“Rapid Rhone, imperial Seine,
“Reed-crown'd Scheld, and viny Loire.
“Tell what Freedom here has done,
“And give to each this sovereign juice
“Gather'd in the night's pale noon
“And bid him in his streams infuse.
“Mingled with the nation's bowl,
“Soon their fervent sons shall feel
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“And proudly grasp the Freeman's steel.”
III.
The spectre stretch'd his shadowy hand,And the magic mixture took;
Of potent drugs, from many a land,
Flowers from fair Ilyssus' brook.
Roots that love the rocky mound,
When the royal Spartan bled,
Herbs that spring on sacred ground
Where the soul of Brutus fled.
Pansies pale that love the bourne
Where Eurotas' naiads stray,
Daffodils, that ever mourn,
Where the slaughter'd Wallace lay.
King-cups fair, profusely fed,
By the chiding brook that flows
Round the skirts of Runnimede,
Where Britannia's Freedom rose.
Thus, surcharg'd, he left the steep,
And sunk beneath the beating brine,
Where the seniors of the deep
Round their hoary King combine.
Then he dealt the limpid prize
To his brethren, first decreed,
When they sought the upper skies,
Freedom's nascent stem to feed.
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By the fierce influx of domestic woes,
And break the purple tyrant's golden dreams,
By the dire tale of subjects turn'd to foes.
IV.
Hence the goddess to her chargeOver forest, over plain
Hastens to the sea-beat verge
Of her wide Atlantic reign.
Thence the shepherd boy she brought
Viewless to her shady grot,
Bade his ringlets flow with grace,
Breathed the cherub in his face;
Taught his pipe a softer sound,
The ear to soothe, but not to wound.
Then, amid the Gallic train
Led the blooming boy again,
The victor Gaul resigns his arms
And clasps the minstrels heavenly charms:
See the vett'rans thronging round
All caress the wond'rous boy;
Soon his pipe's enchanting sound,
Fills their hearts with frantic joy.
Ah! the soldiers little know
While upon his charms they gaze.
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And his mien's ethereal grace.
Little do they dream what ills
His infectious presence brings;
What a charm his pipe instills,
Fierce revolt, and hate of Kings!
Cupid, not so fierce a flame,
Wak'd in fair Eliza's breast,
When the fair Sidonian dame
That insidious child carest!
Now the groaning deck he climbs,
Her proud charge the vessel bears,
While his pipe and rustic rhyme,
Soothes the seamens raptur'd ears.
Now the fated vessel moors
On fair Gaul's unconscious strand;
Fashion's vot'ries crowd the shores,
Fashion hails him come to land.
Fashion! proud fantastic Queen
Fond of every foreign toy,
Wilt thou dote upon his mein,
Canst thou clasp a shepherd boy?
Soon upon the banks of Seine
Royal eyes shall weep the day
When thine ear, fantastic Queen
Listen'd to the shepherd's lay!
Yet, ye Nobles! tho' his lay
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Drive suspicion far away,
Show no dastard signs of fear.
No, ah no—with gentle words,
Soothe the wayward boy awhile;
Dream no more of binding cords,
Open force, or latent guile!
Let him wander at his will,
Let him chant his simple song
And from thicket, glade, or hill
Charm at large the rustic throng!
For he is of that wand'ring race
Blest with unsuppressive might,
Erst they gain'd that sovereign grace
From the source of life and light.
Dungeon deep, nor castle strong
E'er shall see him brook the chain;
Soon the base intended wrong
Viewless aid shall render vain.
See! like attraction's world-pervading might,
Soon as the general ear has drunk his lay,
Regardless of their tenements of clay
Their spirits press to him with fierce delight!
V.
But now the Monarch's jealousy is rous'd,The royal lips pronounce his doom;
The wand'rer from his simple cot unhous'd
Is borne to sigh amid the dungeon's gloom.
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When first the swain was lodg'd below;
And some beheld the turrets quake
Presageful of their overthrow.
And to the moon, full many a martyr'd sprite,
Wan tenants of her cells, in ancient days,
Stole a short respite from the realms of night,
And sung in ghostly quires, a song of solemn praise.
The morning came, the pipe was mute,
That us'd to wake the new-born beam;
The crowd who lov'd to hear his flute,
By spreading oak, or falling stream;
Trac'd his steps, nor sought him long
By instinct led, or black surmise,
To those imperial rampires strong,
Where, shut from day, the captive lies.
Within they heard, or thought they heard,
The shepherd's morning roundelay;
Whether their hopes some spirit chear'd,
Or Fancy charm'd their doubts away.
As when old Æol's signal shrill
Awakes the wind's intestine rage,
And heard from high Olympus' hill
Breathes the loud summons to engage.
So the tide of frenzy rose,
So the haughty wall they scale,
Soon their oft repeated blows
Shake the proud relentless jail.
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“Bring the engines, bring the flame.”
Freedom thus her cohorts chear'd
Hurrying on with loud acclaim.
Soon the simple strain is lost,
In Bellona's thund'ring sound;
Soon these walls, the tyrant's boast,
In long ruin spread the ground.
Now the shepherd swain is free,
Loud resounds the plausive strain,
From the bounds of Normandy
To the Scandinavian main!
When the sun begins his race
Cynthia sinks in western gloom—
Soon a King shall take his place
And in woe his days consume.
Soon a Queen shall mourn the day,
Doom'd in durance long to sigh.
Ah! how dear a price ye pay,
Ye who scorn'd the shepherd boy!—
VI.
But he that loves the wild extreme,To swell the soft breeze to a storm,
And bid the gently winding stream
With giant sweep the sylvan scene deform.
Combin'd with him, whose jaundic'd eye,
Hates ascending worth to spy;
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To blast the great design.
One in the cup of Freedom throws
That infernal drug, which grows
In the verge of Stygian gloom;
Foster'd by Cerberean foam,
(Mingled with Echidna's gall,
'Tis quaffed in Demogorgon's hall.
Where by the gleam of moon-struck eyes
Flashing o'er the nether skies.
Riot's griesly bands advance,
And Anarchy conducts the dance.
Chaos with his hundred choirs,
Still the moody maze inspires.)
The nations pledge it round and round,
And deem the cup with blessings crown'd;
'Till the poison fires the veins,
Strings the nerves and seethes the brains.
VII.
His brother fiend, to loose the tiesThat fasten mankind to the skies,
Hastes the shepherd boy to find,
Where, under shade, the youth reclin'd,
Sitting, like a rural King;
His brother captives in a ring,
Hail the hand that struck the blow
Which laid the house of bondage low!
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“Never will the rights of man
“Find a basis deep and broad,
“While the sons of holy fraud
“Hold their title by the charm;
“Whose narcotic powers disarm
“Every function of the soul.
“By terrours feign'd above the pole,
“See them in their station high,
“Pretended Lords of earth and sky;
“Dispensing life, dispensing death,
“In a breeze of mortal breath.
“Then they range in black array
“Guardians of despotic sway.
“Haste and drive them from their post,
“Haste! or Liberty is lost!”
VIII.
The swain believ'd, his pipe he blew,And soon appear'd the frantic crew.
(For now the deep envenom'd bowl
Had fir'd to madness every soul.)
The fiend that came in Freedom's mask,
Urg'd them to the bloody task.
Rapine shew'd the glittering spoil,
The fruit of many an ages toil.
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Beneath the glimpses of the moon,
Their deeds profane the sacred light
And add new horrours to the night.—
But wand'ring muse, resign the lyre,
Such deeds would fright the virgin quire,
They ask a deeply plaintive string,
Strains that the hardest heart could wring.
Old Avon's matchless bard could paint alone
The bloody pall that hovers o'er the throne!—
Opposite effects of the same education and sentiments of liberty, in the English invaders and the American defenders.
The present Earl of Moira, then Lord Rawdon, descended from the Royal Family of Plantagenet, by the line of Clarence.
From the restless spirit of the French, it may well be supposed that if their former government had continued the jealousy of despotism might have induced them, at some period, to endeavour to weaken the power of the American Union, by open or secret means, if Providence had not interfered in favour of the United States, by giving the French liberty.
| Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric | |