The peripatetic or, Sketches of the heart, of nature and society; In a series of politico-sentimental journals, in verse and prose, of the eccentric excursions of Sylvanus Theophrastus; Supposed to be written by himself [by John Thelwall] |
 | [I]. |
[And hence, my Stella! from thy feeling breast] |
 | II. |
| III. |
 | The peripatetic |  |
[And hence, my Stella! from thy feeling breast]
And hence, my Stella! from thy feeling breast
Oft steals the fondness of a murmuring sigh,
What time the cherub, downy-pinion'd Rest,
The couch of anxious Care is doom'd to fly;—
And oft (oh! painful to the generous heart
To view the anguish of the soul we love!)
Thy looks, expressive of the inward smart,
The frowns of wayward Destiny reprove,
While from the languid eye affection's glow
Efulgent beams, suffus'd with tearful woe.
Oft steals the fondness of a murmuring sigh,
What time the cherub, downy-pinion'd Rest,
The couch of anxious Care is doom'd to fly;—
6
To view the anguish of the soul we love!)
Thy looks, expressive of the inward smart,
The frowns of wayward Destiny reprove,
While from the languid eye affection's glow
Efulgent beams, suffus'd with tearful woe.
Ah! yet again Hygeia! yet return—
For thee I'll wakeful tune the matin song;
No more on high my watchful lamp shall burn,
Startling the midnight silence, to prolong
The 'laborate search; for dull as chaos prove
(Thy smile refus'd) clear truth and radiant fame;
Dull as the night of ignorance!—and Love—
Love's balmy touch, that joys the healthful frame,
The painful nerve of saddest sympathy
Alone can move, while all his roses die!
For thee I'll wakeful tune the matin song;
No more on high my watchful lamp shall burn,
Startling the midnight silence, to prolong
The 'laborate search; for dull as chaos prove
(Thy smile refus'd) clear truth and radiant fame;
Dull as the night of ignorance!—and Love—
Love's balmy touch, that joys the healthful frame,
The painful nerve of saddest sympathy
Alone can move, while all his roses die!
His genial torch no more the cheerful rays
That gild the fane of social Mirth can boast;
But faint a melancholy gleam displays—
(Its radiance faded, and its incense lost!)—
A sullen lamp thro' the funereal dome
That sheds its lustre o'er the sculptur'd name
Of joys low mouldering in the cheerless tomb.
Return then, roseate nymph! this drooping frame,
Woe-worn, renew with thy ethereal flame.
So shall the Muse intrusive care forego,
And Grief no more—dim Grief! while sighs the gale
Of love-instructed fears, her misty veil,
O'er fond Affection's brow shall envious throw,
Her smiles to cloud, and check her radiant glow.
That gild the fane of social Mirth can boast;
But faint a melancholy gleam displays—
(Its radiance faded, and its incense lost!)—
A sullen lamp thro' the funereal dome
That sheds its lustre o'er the sculptur'd name
Of joys low mouldering in the cheerless tomb.
Return then, roseate nymph! this drooping frame,
Woe-worn, renew with thy ethereal flame.
So shall the Muse intrusive care forego,
And Grief no more—dim Grief! while sighs the gale
Of love-instructed fears, her misty veil,
O'er fond Affection's brow shall envious throw,
Her smiles to cloud, and check her radiant glow.
| The peripatetic | |