Original poems on several subjects In two volumes. By William Stevenson |
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 | Original poems on several subjects |  |
I. PART I.
Now pale Aurora, after long delay
From eastern climes to usher in the day,
On Night's dark face reflects a transient glance,
Which scarce perceiv'd spreads through the murk expanse;
Till, from the dewy radiance of her eyes,
Another ray, and yet another, flies.
These gradual, from the same effulgent store,
Succeeded still to infinite by more;
Till all the air, unbounded to the sight,
Seems one continu'd stream of orient light.
Meantime, the forest dun, and mountain blue,
Rise in uncouth magnificence to view;
The city next, the villa, cottage, fold,
And landscape, far as eye can well behold;
The cottage, villa, forest, landscape wide,
Stript by the rig'rous North of all their pride.
No jocund call of music loving Spring
As yet invites the feather'd tribe to sing.
Winter his frown delights still to assume,
Wrapt dreary round in congregated gloom.
A sullen stillness universal reigns,
And hushes all the mirth-abandon'd plains.
A lifeless torpor, centre-felt, invades
The woods and groves, unconscious of their shades.
With ev'ry blast unusual coldness chills,
And deep-form'd mists invest the naked hills.
From eastern climes to usher in the day,
On Night's dark face reflects a transient glance,
Which scarce perceiv'd spreads through the murk expanse;
Till, from the dewy radiance of her eyes,
Another ray, and yet another, flies.
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Succeeded still to infinite by more;
Till all the air, unbounded to the sight,
Seems one continu'd stream of orient light.
Meantime, the forest dun, and mountain blue,
Rise in uncouth magnificence to view;
The city next, the villa, cottage, fold,
And landscape, far as eye can well behold;
The cottage, villa, forest, landscape wide,
Stript by the rig'rous North of all their pride.
No jocund call of music loving Spring
As yet invites the feather'd tribe to sing.
Winter his frown delights still to assume,
Wrapt dreary round in congregated gloom.
A sullen stillness universal reigns,
And hushes all the mirth-abandon'd plains.
A lifeless torpor, centre-felt, invades
The woods and groves, unconscious of their shades.
With ev'ry blast unusual coldness chills,
And deep-form'd mists invest the naked hills.
On a fine eminence, of slow ascent,
The landscape round stretch'd to a vast extent;
An ancient Oak its infant juices drew,
And to full majesty of stature grew.
Of bulk immense crouds yearly flock'd to see
In leafy pomp the celebrated tree;
Charm'd to contemplate Nature's giant-son,
Fed by the genial seasons as they run.
The landscape round stretch'd to a vast extent;
An ancient Oak its infant juices drew,
And to full majesty of stature grew.
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In leafy pomp the celebrated tree;
Charm'd to contemplate Nature's giant-son,
Fed by the genial seasons as they run.
Some tell of elves, and fairy people, seen
Here dancing round their little-bodied queen,
In antic measures and vagaries light,
While conscious shines the kindred orb of night;
Of rites perform'd, with odd romantic signs,
Mysterious circles, and fantastic lines:
Others, of voices heard, and accents strange,
Confus'dly mix'd in busy interchange,
Still render'd stranger by invention's pow'r,
Assisted by the silent, solemn hour.
Here dancing round their little-bodied queen,
In antic measures and vagaries light,
While conscious shines the kindred orb of night;
Of rites perform'd, with odd romantic signs,
Mysterious circles, and fantastic lines:
Others, of voices heard, and accents strange,
Confus'dly mix'd in busy interchange,
Still render'd stranger by invention's pow'r,
Assisted by the silent, solemn hour.
How proud its summits mount into the sky,
As if the rage of tempests to defy!
The circuit of its branchy arms how wide,
In leafless pomp diffus'd on ev'ry side,
Which now thrice thirty summer-suns have seen,
O'erspread luxuriant with returning green!
Vain ostentation! unavailing state!
Which serve but to accelerate its fate!
The hind, unconscious, from his hostile stand,
Whirls round the guilty hatchet in his hand,
Anon to strike the unrelenting blow,
The trunk that severs from its root below.
So, when his stern commission Death receives,
When hope itself the sick man's pillow leaves;
In vain would Fortune her first offers make,
No bribe the king of terrours deigns to take.
The pomp of palaces, the glare of state,
And all the proud regalia of the great,
May add distinction to Death's gloomy hour,
But not prevent the triumph of his power:
His dart once pointed, must unerring fly,
One victim perish, or a thousand die.
As to the prize, his arrows love the dark,
To him alike the mean and noble mark,
The lowly cottage, and the lordly dome,
Which kings or simple peasants make their home.
As if the rage of tempests to defy!
The circuit of its branchy arms how wide,
In leafless pomp diffus'd on ev'ry side,
Which now thrice thirty summer-suns have seen,
O'erspread luxuriant with returning green!
Vain ostentation! unavailing state!
Which serve but to accelerate its fate!
The hind, unconscious, from his hostile stand,
Whirls round the guilty hatchet in his hand,
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The trunk that severs from its root below.
So, when his stern commission Death receives,
When hope itself the sick man's pillow leaves;
In vain would Fortune her first offers make,
No bribe the king of terrours deigns to take.
The pomp of palaces, the glare of state,
And all the proud regalia of the great,
May add distinction to Death's gloomy hour,
But not prevent the triumph of his power:
His dart once pointed, must unerring fly,
One victim perish, or a thousand die.
As to the prize, his arrows love the dark,
To him alike the mean and noble mark,
The lowly cottage, and the lordly dome,
Which kings or simple peasants make their home.
Now all about the previous circlet made,
Through its firm vitals cuts the keen-edg'd blade;
Or in its side, drawn by alternate toil,
The sharp-tooth'd saw sinks deep with slight recoil.
A thousand echoes, from their slumbers woke,
Lend their reluctant ears to ev'ry stroke;
And mix their voices sad, to tell around
The woods, what means each unaccustom'd sound.
The woods throughout return the loud uproar,
By rocks and hills repeated o'er and o'er,
While all abrupt afford it ampler swell,
Struck from each cliff, and shook in every dell.
Each woodland youth the din confus'd enjoys,
And with redoubled pith his axe employs.
Through its firm vitals cuts the keen-edg'd blade;
Or in its side, drawn by alternate toil,
The sharp-tooth'd saw sinks deep with slight recoil.
A thousand echoes, from their slumbers woke,
Lend their reluctant ears to ev'ry stroke;
And mix their voices sad, to tell around
The woods, what means each unaccustom'd sound.
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By rocks and hills repeated o'er and o'er,
While all abrupt afford it ampler swell,
Struck from each cliff, and shook in every dell.
Each woodland youth the din confus'd enjoys,
And with redoubled pith his axe employs.
Inhuman wretch!—but why this hated name?
Let those receive who justly merit blame—
The plexus spun so admirably fine,
The net-work pipes, and tubes in artful twine,
Through which Earth's vegetative fluids glide,
By heat fermented to a living tide;
The strongly-woven tunics wrapt about,
And exquisite contexture form'd throughout;
These hid from common observation lie,
Nor court the wonder of the vulgar eye.
Few daring minds are born sublime to range
Yon argent fields, where orbs successive change;
On ev'ry planet's fiery axle hurl'd,
To make the tour of the celestial world:
Few chosen spirits form'd divine to know
The secret wonders of our earth below;
Surpassing wonders, wisdom's nicer work,
That through the vegetable kingdom lurk!
Let those receive who justly merit blame—
The plexus spun so admirably fine,
The net-work pipes, and tubes in artful twine,
Through which Earth's vegetative fluids glide,
By heat fermented to a living tide;
The strongly-woven tunics wrapt about,
And exquisite contexture form'd throughout;
These hid from common observation lie,
Nor court the wonder of the vulgar eye.
Few daring minds are born sublime to range
Yon argent fields, where orbs successive change;
On ev'ry planet's fiery axle hurl'd,
To make the tour of the celestial world:
Few chosen spirits form'd divine to know
The secret wonders of our earth below;
Surpassing wonders, wisdom's nicer work,
That through the vegetable kingdom lurk!
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Next, to the lofty stems the cordage fix'd,
The lofty stems with clouds aspiring mix'd,
To try what strength still unsubdu'd remains,
What vigour swells its yet unmangled veins,
Convuls'd throughout, it totters on its base,
Reluctant to forsake its native place,
That airy station it enjoy'd so long,
A kind asylum to the feather'd throng,
Where ever their Vertumnal strains began,
Safe in its bosom from the grasp of man!
Where oft beneath its mantle hung of green,
From noon's intrusive glance a present screen,
The shepherd wander'd with his fleecy care,
To breathe the cooly fragrance of the air!
Softly to warble, on sylvestran reed,
While round his lambs, as if attentive, feed,
Such simple notes as rural love inspires,
The blooming lass his witless heart admires;
Perhaps, in some close shelter out of sight,
By her regarded with a fond delight.
The lofty stems with clouds aspiring mix'd,
To try what strength still unsubdu'd remains,
What vigour swells its yet unmangled veins,
Convuls'd throughout, it totters on its base,
Reluctant to forsake its native place,
That airy station it enjoy'd so long,
A kind asylum to the feather'd throng,
Where ever their Vertumnal strains began,
Safe in its bosom from the grasp of man!
Where oft beneath its mantle hung of green,
From noon's intrusive glance a present screen,
The shepherd wander'd with his fleecy care,
To breathe the cooly fragrance of the air!
Softly to warble, on sylvestran reed,
While round his lambs, as if attentive, feed,
Such simple notes as rural love inspires,
The blooming lass his witless heart admires;
Perhaps, in some close shelter out of sight,
By her regarded with a fond delight.
But what avails this fond indulg'd delay?
Can it the rage of furious axes stay?
Alas! expectant of its speedy doom,
The frighted birds depart with undress'd plume.
The cattle fly ingrate the luckless spot,
Their former stated haunts at noon forgot.
Men too predictive prudently withdraw,
Waiting the final stroke with silent awe.
What then remains, abandon'd thus by all,
But a mark'd victim in despair to fall?
Can it the rage of furious axes stay?
Alas! expectant of its speedy doom,
The frighted birds depart with undress'd plume.
157
Their former stated haunts at noon forgot.
Men too predictive prudently withdraw,
Waiting the final stroke with silent awe.
What then remains, abandon'd thus by all,
But a mark'd victim in despair to fall?
Thus on the man, beneath misfortune's frown,
The supercilious eye looks meanly down,
That once (so Fortune's changing wheel requires)
Sparkled with Adulation's partial fires.
Amid the sunshine of a monarch's smile,
While slaves approach'd his seat with fulsome style,
How did each sycophant dance in his train,
Of but a look's unguarded wafture vain!
With what respectful air each dangler trips!
What smooth-form'd speeches flutter on his lips!
How shines each Proteus-feature with esteem!
What he is not the labour great to seem!
But lo! the tide of royal favour ebbs,
A passing breath breaks Grandeur's court-spun webs;
Where now the venal tribe, the courteous race?
Gone to the levee of the next—in place.
The supercilious eye looks meanly down,
That once (so Fortune's changing wheel requires)
Sparkled with Adulation's partial fires.
Amid the sunshine of a monarch's smile,
While slaves approach'd his seat with fulsome style,
How did each sycophant dance in his train,
Of but a look's unguarded wafture vain!
With what respectful air each dangler trips!
What smooth-form'd speeches flutter on his lips!
How shines each Proteus-feature with esteem!
What he is not the labour great to seem!
But lo! the tide of royal favour ebbs,
A passing breath breaks Grandeur's court-spun webs;
Where now the venal tribe, the courteous race?
Gone to the levee of the next—in place.
With frequent look the workman lifts his eye,
Long anxious the declining top to spy;
Nor is his worn-out patience further tried,
The feeble structure seems to lean aside.
From the pent clouds a sudden gust descends,
And full among the boughs its fury spends;
Weak and more weak the wounded fabric grows,
Strong pulls the rope, and blows succeed on blows:
The shock conjoin'd unable to sustain,
It stoops, it groans, it thunders to the plain;
A cumb'rous ruin wide extended lies,
Thrown from the middle region of the skies.
Long anxious the declining top to spy;
158
The feeble structure seems to lean aside.
From the pent clouds a sudden gust descends,
And full among the boughs its fury spends;
Weak and more weak the wounded fabric grows,
Strong pulls the rope, and blows succeed on blows:
The shock conjoin'd unable to sustain,
It stoops, it groans, it thunders to the plain;
A cumb'rous ruin wide extended lies,
Thrown from the middle region of the skies.
But shall the conscious muse unmov'd remain,
Nor mourn its fate in elegiac strain?
To verse still consecrated trees have stood,
And oaks are styl'd the monarchs of the wood.
Let then in pity her sad numbers flow,
And heave her bosom with ingenuous wo.
Late trembling she essay'd the Dorian lyre ,
By Thomson erst wak'd to unusual fire;
With trembling pencil, caught on Fancy's wing,
Sketch'd an imperfect landscape of the Spring.
Delightful task! to mark the new-blown flow'r,
The fragrant herb, and plant of healing pow'r;
The shoot of forward growth, and turgid stem,
Sparkling with dew conglob'd in many a gem;
Prolific clouds in kindly rain dissolv'd,
Soft months return'd, and genial suns revolv'd!
Delightful task! with curious eye to trace
Each change progressive on Creation's face;
In numbers art to make like nature look,
To imitate the murmur of the brook;
The love-sigh wafted through the green alcove,
The zephyr's plaint, and warble of the grove!
Delightful task! attentive to survey
Winter as he from earth directs his way;
To see him all his icy chains unloose,
And lessen his impetuous rains to dews;
To hear his storms, still'd their sonorous roar,
Sink to the breeze that pants along the shore;
To see gay Spring, invok'd long to appear,
Succeed the gloomy tyrant of the year;
Beauty and Youth her handmaids from the sky,
Health in their look, and radiance in their eye:
While sun-warm'd gales shed odours from their wings,
And ev'ry thicket, clad in verdure, sings.
Ah! now, a sad reverse her strain demands,
Not plenty lavish'd with unsparing hands,
Not Beauty's touches exquisitely just,
But her first glory levell'd with the dust!
Nor mourn its fate in elegiac strain?
To verse still consecrated trees have stood,
And oaks are styl'd the monarchs of the wood.
Let then in pity her sad numbers flow,
And heave her bosom with ingenuous wo.
Late trembling she essay'd the Dorian lyre ,
By Thomson erst wak'd to unusual fire;
With trembling pencil, caught on Fancy's wing,
Sketch'd an imperfect landscape of the Spring.
Delightful task! to mark the new-blown flow'r,
The fragrant herb, and plant of healing pow'r;
159
Sparkling with dew conglob'd in many a gem;
Prolific clouds in kindly rain dissolv'd,
Soft months return'd, and genial suns revolv'd!
Delightful task! with curious eye to trace
Each change progressive on Creation's face;
In numbers art to make like nature look,
To imitate the murmur of the brook;
The love-sigh wafted through the green alcove,
The zephyr's plaint, and warble of the grove!
Delightful task! attentive to survey
Winter as he from earth directs his way;
To see him all his icy chains unloose,
And lessen his impetuous rains to dews;
To hear his storms, still'd their sonorous roar,
Sink to the breeze that pants along the shore;
To see gay Spring, invok'd long to appear,
Succeed the gloomy tyrant of the year;
Beauty and Youth her handmaids from the sky,
Health in their look, and radiance in their eye:
While sun-warm'd gales shed odours from their wings,
And ev'ry thicket, clad in verdure, sings.
Ah! now, a sad reverse her strain demands,
Not plenty lavish'd with unsparing hands,
160
But her first glory levell'd with the dust!
This is a subject unessay'd before,
Catastrophes far other we deplore;
Things animate alone engage our sigh,
Or draw the tear impassion'd to our eye.
Yet shall the Muse a rule establish'd break,
And boldly teach Creation dumb to speak;
Converse with Nature's silent offsprings round,
And tread, though cautious, on forbidden ground.
Nor rashly blame, upon a slight review,
Uncommon things seem censurable too.
Catastrophes far other we deplore;
Things animate alone engage our sigh,
Or draw the tear impassion'd to our eye.
Yet shall the Muse a rule establish'd break,
And boldly teach Creation dumb to speak;
Converse with Nature's silent offsprings round,
And tread, though cautious, on forbidden ground.
Nor rashly blame, upon a slight review,
Uncommon things seem censurable too.
O! could I boast his more than mortal art,
To touch the noblest springs that move the heart;
Finely instruction with delight to mix,
Convince the judgment, and the fancy fix;
Who bade, though dead some thousand years before,
Mæonides revive on Albion's shore,
Mæonides, whate'er fam'd test we seek,
Not less renown'd a Briton, than a Greek!
Or could I soar, like his rapt muse sublime,
Unfetter'd by the stiff restraints of rhyme,
Who, with the swell of music on his tongue,
The Pleasures of Imagination sung;
And while he sings, displays her finest pow'rs,
Which, tracing out, we wish devoutly ours;
Virtue's own feelings to our sense conveys,
His polish'd diction but his second praise!
To touch the noblest springs that move the heart;
Finely instruction with delight to mix,
Convince the judgment, and the fancy fix;
Who bade, though dead some thousand years before,
Mæonides revive on Albion's shore,
Mæonides, whate'er fam'd test we seek,
Not less renown'd a Briton, than a Greek!
Or could I soar, like his rapt muse sublime,
Unfetter'd by the stiff restraints of rhyme,
Who, with the swell of music on his tongue,
The Pleasures of Imagination sung;
161
Which, tracing out, we wish devoutly ours;
Virtue's own feelings to our sense conveys,
His polish'd diction but his second praise!
Of Virtue too I sing, Celestial Pow'r,
That still befriends us in the pressing hour!
Fir'd by whose beauty, and beneath whose smile,
Would I my thoughts improve, correct my style.
He merits fame, who writes on Virtue's plan,
The friend of Virtue, is the friend of man.
O Virtue! source of chaste refin'd desire,
Thee when I cease to honour and admire;
Cease, though in poor endeavours, to practise
Thy laws, and recommend them to the wise,
Or, when with doubts perplex'd, from Reason stray'd,
Cease to implore thy guidance and thy aid;
May my ungrateful heart forget to throb,
And life end in one agonizing sob!
Shall that vain thankless being be prolong'd,
By whose existence Thou art basely wrong'd?
—But let the elegiac strain begin,
At least the prize of meaning well to win.
That still befriends us in the pressing hour!
Fir'd by whose beauty, and beneath whose smile,
Would I my thoughts improve, correct my style.
He merits fame, who writes on Virtue's plan,
The friend of Virtue, is the friend of man.
O Virtue! source of chaste refin'd desire,
Thee when I cease to honour and admire;
Cease, though in poor endeavours, to practise
Thy laws, and recommend them to the wise,
Or, when with doubts perplex'd, from Reason stray'd,
Cease to implore thy guidance and thy aid;
May my ungrateful heart forget to throb,
And life end in one agonizing sob!
Shall that vain thankless being be prolong'd,
By whose existence Thou art basely wrong'd?
—But let the elegiac strain begin,
At least the prize of meaning well to win.
Had the dire axe, O much lamented Oak!
That gave thy aged form the mortal stroke,
Remain'd yet unattemper'd in the mine,
Unwhetted for so cruel a design;
Far other scenes the Muses now had sung,
To sadness the according lyre unstrung:
Of Nature, form'd in all her works alike
To fix the judgment, and the fancy strike;
Of Merit, plac'd in infinite degrees,
Such as the eye by Truth's fair optics sees;
Of Friendship, manly, gen'rous, and refin'd,
The gentle inmate of the noble mind;
Of Beauty, heighten'd by the blushing charm
Of Modesty, which tyrants must disarm;
Of Fame, dispensing to her votive croud
The laurel crown, with sound of clarions loud.
But though a mangled carcase on the ground,
Thy honours scatter'd in disgrace around;
Immortal shalt thou live, renown'd in song,
If to the verse immortal can belong—
For here the Muse would intermit her grief,
A glorious scene supplies a kind relief.
To Britain sacred be the patriot strain,
And who in Britain's ear would dare complain?
That gave thy aged form the mortal stroke,
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Unwhetted for so cruel a design;
Far other scenes the Muses now had sung,
To sadness the according lyre unstrung:
Of Nature, form'd in all her works alike
To fix the judgment, and the fancy strike;
Of Merit, plac'd in infinite degrees,
Such as the eye by Truth's fair optics sees;
Of Friendship, manly, gen'rous, and refin'd,
The gentle inmate of the noble mind;
Of Beauty, heighten'd by the blushing charm
Of Modesty, which tyrants must disarm;
Of Fame, dispensing to her votive croud
The laurel crown, with sound of clarions loud.
But though a mangled carcase on the ground,
Thy honours scatter'd in disgrace around;
Immortal shalt thou live, renown'd in song,
If to the verse immortal can belong—
For here the Muse would intermit her grief,
A glorious scene supplies a kind relief.
To Britain sacred be the patriot strain,
And who in Britain's ear would dare complain?
By thee supported, O imperial tree,
Through ev'ry age invincible by thee,
Albion the fam'd, the great, the mighty, reigns
Unrivall'd empress of the watery plains;
In floating bulwarks, Freedom's flag unfurl'd,
Points the wing'd thunder, and o'erawes a world.
Hence to her sceptre kings shall subject be,
And haughty tyrants bend on suppliant knee.
Hence shall her empire through the earth extend,
And only with time's latest period end.
Through ev'ry age invincible by thee,
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Unrivall'd empress of the watery plains;
In floating bulwarks, Freedom's flag unfurl'd,
Points the wing'd thunder, and o'erawes a world.
Hence to her sceptre kings shall subject be,
And haughty tyrants bend on suppliant knee.
Hence shall her empire through the earth extend,
And only with time's latest period end.
O! let Britannia still her oak revere,
Her chief defence should claim her chiefest care.
The naval pillar that her throne supports,
Her wave-built castles, her breeze-wafted forts;
Her magazines of death, with canvas wings,
Should still to Britons be momentous things.
While other nations lie expos'd a prey
To tyrants bent on universal sway;
Nature bestow'd, rais'd at her own expense,
To Britons wooden walls for their defence.
Let Britons then within these walls reside,
Their strength combin'd no factions to divide;
Defend with valour, guard with watchful eye,
As if an angel, beck'ning each, stood by;
Valour with unanimity, that boast
The noblest deeds, where dangers threat the most.
Britannia, long superiour to decline,
May with her oak her diadem resign;
As heroes by some vulgar shaft may die,
When, too secure, their armour they lay by;
Fate wills them on each other to depend,
As one at first, to meet one common end.
Her chief defence should claim her chiefest care.
The naval pillar that her throne supports,
Her wave-built castles, her breeze-wafted forts;
Her magazines of death, with canvas wings,
Should still to Britons be momentous things.
While other nations lie expos'd a prey
To tyrants bent on universal sway;
Nature bestow'd, rais'd at her own expense,
To Britons wooden walls for their defence.
Let Britons then within these walls reside,
Their strength combin'd no factions to divide;
Defend with valour, guard with watchful eye,
As if an angel, beck'ning each, stood by;
Valour with unanimity, that boast
The noblest deeds, where dangers threat the most.
164
May with her oak her diadem resign;
As heroes by some vulgar shaft may die,
When, too secure, their armour they lay by;
Fate wills them on each other to depend,
As one at first, to meet one common end.
Illustrious tree! what honours on thee wait,
The sov'reign's safety, and a kingdom's fate;
That glory which prosperity attends,
Which age to age, increasing still, extends!
As thou art timely summon'd to our aid,
Fame's circling laurels bloom afresh, or fade;
The gem in Albion's crown looks doubly bright,
Or foully tarnish'd to the Patriot's sight
Once too, within thy hospitable trunk,
Faint thro' fatigue, and with misfortunes sunk,
A monarch rested, friendless and alone,
A solitary exile from his throne.
A kind retreat thy loyal arms supply,
Where injur'd Majesty secure may lie;
Hither no traitor foe his step directs,
No hostile eye the royal shade suspects.
The sov'reign's safety, and a kingdom's fate;
That glory which prosperity attends,
Which age to age, increasing still, extends!
As thou art timely summon'd to our aid,
Fame's circling laurels bloom afresh, or fade;
The gem in Albion's crown looks doubly bright,
Or foully tarnish'd to the Patriot's sight
Once too, within thy hospitable trunk,
Faint thro' fatigue, and with misfortunes sunk,
A monarch rested, friendless and alone,
A solitary exile from his throne.
A kind retreat thy loyal arms supply,
Where injur'd Majesty secure may lie;
Hither no traitor foe his step directs,
No hostile eye the royal shade suspects.
Ye monarchs, hear! ye scepter'd sons of pride,
Who haughtily Europa's states divide!
Be the vain competition heard no more,
Your lordly claims, your boasted triumphs o'er,
Whose shall the empire of the ocean be,
Bestow'd on Albion, by divine decree.
And justly too the diadem she craves,
Who dwells, her native clime, amid the waves;
Guarded by rocks projecting o'er the deep,
Banks inaccessible, and mountains steep;
Tremendous bulwarks rear'd by Nature's hand,
Against Ambition's proud assaults to stand;
To check each tyrant's insolent approach,
Who would on Freedom's darling spot encroach;
A spot mark'd out by Heav'n's approving eye,
To share the choicest blessings of the sky;
Albion the just, whom Fate below employs,
To keep the interests of a world in poise;
No diminution e'er her power to know,
Till oaks themselves in forests cease to grow.
Who haughtily Europa's states divide!
165
Your lordly claims, your boasted triumphs o'er,
Whose shall the empire of the ocean be,
Bestow'd on Albion, by divine decree.
And justly too the diadem she craves,
Who dwells, her native clime, amid the waves;
Guarded by rocks projecting o'er the deep,
Banks inaccessible, and mountains steep;
Tremendous bulwarks rear'd by Nature's hand,
Against Ambition's proud assaults to stand;
To check each tyrant's insolent approach,
Who would on Freedom's darling spot encroach;
A spot mark'd out by Heav'n's approving eye,
To share the choicest blessings of the sky;
Albion the just, whom Fate below employs,
To keep the interests of a world in poise;
No diminution e'er her power to know,
Till oaks themselves in forests cease to grow.
Thus on thy fame the Muse would fondly dwell,
Thus would thy praise in faithful numbers tell;
Thy praise, that must descend through ev'ry age,
While British deeds adorn the lib'ral page.
But ah! how short the respite now enjoy'd!
The plaintive lyre must be again employ'd
At sight of thee thrown headlong on the plain,
Pity renew'd demands the mournful strain.
For, whether youthful in Vertumnal bloom,
Wisdom solac'd beneath thy solemn gloom;
Or stretch'd the earth, a rootless trunk, along,
Still art thou form'd alike to live in song.
Thus would thy praise in faithful numbers tell;
Thy praise, that must descend through ev'ry age,
While British deeds adorn the lib'ral page.
But ah! how short the respite now enjoy'd!
The plaintive lyre must be again employ'd
166
Pity renew'd demands the mournful strain.
For, whether youthful in Vertumnal bloom,
Wisdom solac'd beneath thy solemn gloom;
Or stretch'd the earth, a rootless trunk, along,
Still art thou form'd alike to live in song.
Thus he, deep learn'd in Virtue's sacred lore,
Who practises her precepts o'er and o'er;
Whose bright example daily shows mankind,
How near perfection brought the human mind;
Alive or dead, with equal merit draws,
Claims our esteem, and rivets our applause;
For though depriv'd of temporary breath,
He speaks in silence, and he lives in death.
Who practises her precepts o'er and o'er;
Whose bright example daily shows mankind,
How near perfection brought the human mind;
Alive or dead, with equal merit draws,
Claims our esteem, and rivets our applause;
For though depriv'd of temporary breath,
He speaks in silence, and he lives in death.
No more shall Spring thy torpid roots revive,
Pervious thy tubes, thy dormant sap alive.
No more expand thy cold-contracted pores,
Pointing the ray thy freshness that restores.
No more shall moisture through thy bark transude,
Or summer-heats thy infant stems protrude.
No more soft foliage mantle thee around,
To cast refreshing shadows on the ground.
No more the bees thy close recesses haunt,
With honey homeward bound for future want.
No Zephyr flutter through thy umbrage dun,
To cool the fervours of the noontide sun.
Music no more attentive nature charms,
From the hid centre of thy circling arms,
While Echo, mindful of the list'ning swain,
Repeats the dying cadence of each strain.
No more the rook, returning home, shall see
Far off her airy build aloft on thee,
Lin'd warm within from incommoding air,
A fit example of parental care;
No more her down-cloth'd young with rapture view,
Agape for food, her labours to renew;
Now, taught their nests instinctive to forsake,
Around its edge the offer'd morsel take;
Now hopping, half afraid, from spray to spray,
Ere through mid-air they dauntless wing their way.
Pattern to man, ere launch'd out any length
In bold designs, to estimate his strength.
Pervious thy tubes, thy dormant sap alive.
No more expand thy cold-contracted pores,
Pointing the ray thy freshness that restores.
No more shall moisture through thy bark transude,
Or summer-heats thy infant stems protrude.
No more soft foliage mantle thee around,
To cast refreshing shadows on the ground.
No more the bees thy close recesses haunt,
With honey homeward bound for future want.
167
To cool the fervours of the noontide sun.
Music no more attentive nature charms,
From the hid centre of thy circling arms,
While Echo, mindful of the list'ning swain,
Repeats the dying cadence of each strain.
No more the rook, returning home, shall see
Far off her airy build aloft on thee,
Lin'd warm within from incommoding air,
A fit example of parental care;
No more her down-cloth'd young with rapture view,
Agape for food, her labours to renew;
Now, taught their nests instinctive to forsake,
Around its edge the offer'd morsel take;
Now hopping, half afraid, from spray to spray,
Ere through mid-air they dauntless wing their way.
Pattern to man, ere launch'd out any length
In bold designs, to estimate his strength.
Nor let it pique his pride, that tow'rs aloft,
To learn from instinct, though despis'd so oft.
Instinct, howe'er fam'd moralists define,
Is reason, but a little less divine,
More circumscrib'd, or languid in its power,
Though not less steady in the trying hour.
For travel its dominion, you will find,
It differs in degree, but not in kind;
As stars, of various distance through the skies,
Or diamonds, not in water, but in size.
Descend then, man, from insolence and scorn,
Reason, your boast, is but the elder born;
One common parent both respective claim,
Alike in nature, though distinct in name;
For though vain man so arrogantly wise,
Instinct itself may reason oft advise.
Nor instinct only, trees may silence break,
And to mankind's confusion learn to speak.
To learn from instinct, though despis'd so oft.
Instinct, howe'er fam'd moralists define,
Is reason, but a little less divine,
More circumscrib'd, or languid in its power,
Though not less steady in the trying hour.
168
It differs in degree, but not in kind;
As stars, of various distance through the skies,
Or diamonds, not in water, but in size.
Descend then, man, from insolence and scorn,
Reason, your boast, is but the elder born;
One common parent both respective claim,
Alike in nature, though distinct in name;
For though vain man so arrogantly wise,
Instinct itself may reason oft advise.
Nor instinct only, trees may silence break,
And to mankind's confusion learn to speak.
Trees represent the characters of men,
Beyond the vulgar daubings of the pen.
Spread out in full luxuriancy of shade,
Which vainly storms and hurricanes invade,
We in the oak's strong lineaments behold
The brave, unshaken, masculine, and bold.
The flexile, wav'ring, and enervate heart,
Subject at ev'ry accident to start,
At trifles scar'd, as at death's final stroke,
Boast no resemblance to the manly oak.
When the warm sun advances in his signs,
And with invigorating radiance shines;
When nipping frosts and blasting winds are gone,
Last of the grove his raiment he puts on;
Or when the lord of day his heat withdraws,
And seasons change by universal laws;
Last of the forest too, with decent pride,
His robes of shining green he lays aside.
Thus he, the rational consistent man,
Who acts on Virtue's fair and steady plan,
Feels no abrupt elation in his mind,
When Fortune, fickle favourite, is kind;
Nor mean depression, though her wheel cast up
Some evil to embitter life's sad cup.
Some men, quite soft and feminine in make,
At common things prophetically quake.
If but disease attacks his neighbour's fold,
Or on his barns the casual flame takes hold;
If an eclipse (foretold) the welkin shrouds,
Or thunders burst from agitated clouds;
If but a meteor shoots across the sky,
Or some untimely funeral passes by:
His mind with omens and forebodings swells,
And ev'ry look his superstition tells.
Such in the Oak no pleasing likeness find,
Foes to themselves, nor friends to humankind.
Beyond the vulgar daubings of the pen.
Spread out in full luxuriancy of shade,
Which vainly storms and hurricanes invade,
We in the oak's strong lineaments behold
The brave, unshaken, masculine, and bold.
The flexile, wav'ring, and enervate heart,
Subject at ev'ry accident to start,
At trifles scar'd, as at death's final stroke,
Boast no resemblance to the manly oak.
When the warm sun advances in his signs,
And with invigorating radiance shines;
169
Last of the grove his raiment he puts on;
Or when the lord of day his heat withdraws,
And seasons change by universal laws;
Last of the forest too, with decent pride,
His robes of shining green he lays aside.
Thus he, the rational consistent man,
Who acts on Virtue's fair and steady plan,
Feels no abrupt elation in his mind,
When Fortune, fickle favourite, is kind;
Nor mean depression, though her wheel cast up
Some evil to embitter life's sad cup.
Some men, quite soft and feminine in make,
At common things prophetically quake.
If but disease attacks his neighbour's fold,
Or on his barns the casual flame takes hold;
If an eclipse (foretold) the welkin shrouds,
Or thunders burst from agitated clouds;
If but a meteor shoots across the sky,
Or some untimely funeral passes by:
His mind with omens and forebodings swells,
And ev'ry look his superstition tells.
Such in the Oak no pleasing likeness find,
Foes to themselves, nor friends to humankind.
| Original poems on several subjects | |