Original poems on several subjects In two volumes. By William Stevenson |
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AN ELEGY Written in a FLOWER-GARDEN.
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 | Original poems on several subjects |  |
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AN ELEGY Written in a FLOWER-GARDEN.
Addressed to ------
Now, when the lone sequester'd Muse invites,
And westward points the sun his setting ray;
Will Maria, whom the solitude delights,
With her enjoy the faint remains of day?
And westward points the sun his setting ray;
Will Maria, whom the solitude delights,
With her enjoy the faint remains of day?
Music around, where arch'd espaliers wreathe,
Would her fine ear in pleasing wonder fix;
Zephyrs for her their humid odours breathe,
And yonder skies unnumber'd colours mix.
Would her fine ear in pleasing wonder fix;
Zephyrs for her their humid odours breathe,
And yonder skies unnumber'd colours mix.
Now, mantled in her suit of sable grey,
Her breeze-fann'd tresses hung with pearls of dew,
Evening arrives; her gentle call obey,
Abroad her darkling footsteps to pursue.
Her breeze-fann'd tresses hung with pearls of dew,
Evening arrives; her gentle call obey,
Abroad her darkling footsteps to pursue.
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How the still silence of embow'ring shades
Transports the mind, urg'd by no fancy'd wants!
Sylvestran scenes, hills, meadows, upland glades,
The cascade's lapse, and wilderness's haunts!
Transports the mind, urg'd by no fancy'd wants!
Sylvestran scenes, hills, meadows, upland glades,
The cascade's lapse, and wilderness's haunts!
Nor, to the sober ear of Fancy, does
The hooting owl, from antiquated tow'r,
Nor hornet, wheeling round in ceaseless buzz,
Abate the sweetness of the solemn hour:
The hooting owl, from antiquated tow'r,
Nor hornet, wheeling round in ceaseless buzz,
Abate the sweetness of the solemn hour:
Nor Philomel, that through the woodbine copse
Pours forth her love-lorn melody of wo;
Kind warbler, when mild Eve her curtain drops,
Whose melting strains no vulgar period know!
Pours forth her love-lorn melody of wo;
Kind warbler, when mild Eve her curtain drops,
Whose melting strains no vulgar period know!
Hark! how yon turtle's sadly-pensive notes
The fix'd dull ear of Melancholy soothe!
How gently down the stream each murmur floats,
Care's ruffled brow by magic charm to smoothe!
The fix'd dull ear of Melancholy soothe!
How gently down the stream each murmur floats,
Care's ruffled brow by magic charm to smoothe!
Not to the wide-stretch'd lawn shall we repair,
Where Beauty's offspring lead ambrosial lives;
Nor sloping hill, from whence, in prospect fair,
An ampler swell the rural scene derives:
Where Beauty's offspring lead ambrosial lives;
Nor sloping hill, from whence, in prospect fair,
An ampler swell the rural scene derives:
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But where Art's finer imagery is shown,
Her pow'rs of fancy, drapery, and taste;
Amid these ranks of lilies, all full-blown,
Where Nature charms the more, the nearer trac'd.
Her pow'rs of fancy, drapery, and taste;
Amid these ranks of lilies, all full-blown,
Where Nature charms the more, the nearer trac'd.
Let Pride's swoln boasts subside to accents meek,
And Passion lull asleep her self-rais'd storm;
Hence, Mirth loquacious, with sarcastic cheek,
With rolling eye, and agitated form.
And Passion lull asleep her self-rais'd storm;
Hence, Mirth loquacious, with sarcastic cheek,
With rolling eye, and agitated form.
Now let the lyre to Elegy be strung,
Obliquely thus to dwell on Maria's praise;
O! would the native music of her tongue
To kindred rapture wake the plaintive lays!
Obliquely thus to dwell on Maria's praise;
O! would the native music of her tongue
To kindred rapture wake the plaintive lays!
Not the vain-letter'd tomb, or sculptur'd bust,
Shall the sad sympathetic strain suggest;
Riches may moulder in congenial dust,
And humbled Grandeur in oblivion rest:
Shall the sad sympathetic strain suggest;
Riches may moulder in congenial dust,
And humbled Grandeur in oblivion rest:
Let faithful pencils, that in just profile
Would place the human portrait, but outline
The naked Lily, when soft Seasons smile,
Or Winter's frosts the stagnate streams confine.
Would place the human portrait, but outline
The naked Lily, when soft Seasons smile,
Or Winter's frosts the stagnate streams confine.
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Here then may Elegy her tale begin,
Your taste will polish, what your fancy chose;
In sprighty circles oft the palm you win,
To twine a nobler wreath the Lily grows.
Your taste will polish, what your fancy chose;
In sprighty circles oft the palm you win,
To twine a nobler wreath the Lily grows.
Nor vainly grows, if, while the Muses sing,
The fair will listen to the friendly lay,
And take, as bees sip honey whilst they cling,
The moral with the lighter sound away.
The fair will listen to the friendly lay,
And take, as bees sip honey whilst they cling,
The moral with the lighter sound away.
Beneath the kindly nurture of the skies,
The Lily her fair Vestal charms unfolds;
No rival beauty near presumes to rise,
And ev'ry eye is ravish'd that beholds.
The Lily her fair Vestal charms unfolds;
No rival beauty near presumes to rise,
And ev'ry eye is ravish'd that beholds.
The florist takes his eve-invited walk,
And round his painted family surveys;
But none her graceful bend of slender stalk,
Her milk-white bosom, soft as down, displays.
And round his painted family surveys;
But none her graceful bend of slender stalk,
Her milk-white bosom, soft as down, displays.
When rosy-featur'd Vesper, from her urn,
The glist'ring dews effusively distills;
The Lily's fragrance welcomes her return,
While she imbibes the moisture's orient rills.
The glist'ring dews effusively distills;
The Lily's fragrance welcomes her return,
While she imbibes the moisture's orient rills.
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To form the Lily fairest flow'r that springs,
A thousand tubes Earth's finest sap convey;
Kind Zephyrs fan her with dew-moisten'd wings,
And day and night their stated turns obey.
A thousand tubes Earth's finest sap convey;
Kind Zephyrs fan her with dew-moisten'd wings,
And day and night their stated turns obey.
The Lily, as in beauty, so in smell,
Claims the first class amongst the flowery tribe;
Singly on either did the numbers dwell,
Scarce would the numbers half her charms describe.
Claims the first class amongst the flowery tribe;
Singly on either did the numbers dwell,
Scarce would the numbers half her charms describe.
So, for the dew-soft twinkle of an eye,
The bloom of features, or the ease of shape,
In Maria's praise did poets merely vie,
Unnoted would her noblest praise escape.
The bloom of features, or the ease of shape,
In Maria's praise did poets merely vie,
Unnoted would her noblest praise escape.
True, she is lovely, as e'er eye beheld,
Lovely, as Nature paints, or Art adorns;
But, though in beauty half her sex excell'd,
That beauty she still heightens, while she scorns.
Lovely, as Nature paints, or Art adorns;
But, though in beauty half her sex excell'd,
That beauty she still heightens, while she scorns.
Merit that still affects to lie conceal'd,
As diamonds sparkle on some rock unknown,
Like light itself, should be to all reveal'd,
Whether it grace a cottage, or a throne.
As diamonds sparkle on some rock unknown,
Like light itself, should be to all reveal'd,
Whether it grace a cottage, or a throne.
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Lucia the young, the sprightly, blooming fair,
To try how far her lover's praises due,
Would with the Lily's whiteness her's compare,
But finds that false she fondly reckon'd true.
To try how far her lover's praises due,
Would with the Lily's whiteness her's compare,
But finds that false she fondly reckon'd true.
On silken ground would Art attempt to draw
The Lily, with the needle's mimic pow'r;
But who so poor a counterfeit e'er saw,
That e'er beheld a nature-portray'd flow'r?
The Lily, with the needle's mimic pow'r;
But who so poor a counterfeit e'er saw,
That e'er beheld a nature-portray'd flow'r?
Dipt in the choice of artificial paint,
The pencil too a like vain task essays;
But how, compar'd, inelegant and faint!
How pigmy Art her littleness betrays!
The pencil too a like vain task essays;
But how, compar'd, inelegant and faint!
How pigmy Art her littleness betrays!
Want we some softer epithet to name
Native unspotted maiden virtue by,
That turn of thought not Maria's self can blame?
All by the Lily's whiteness we imply.
Native unspotted maiden virtue by,
That turn of thought not Maria's self can blame?
All by the Lily's whiteness we imply.
To give proud Beauty her intrinsic praise,
Nor yet a well-tim'd compliment unpaid;
It the pure ivory's polish scarce conveys,
The Lily's white we summon to our aid.
Nor yet a well-tim'd compliment unpaid;
It the pure ivory's polish scarce conveys,
The Lily's white we summon to our aid.
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But ah! though dress'd in Beauty's choicest robe,
Though eastern kings less glorious to behold;
When Winter sends his tempests round the globe,
Those graces fade that now so gay unfold.
Though eastern kings less glorious to behold;
When Winter sends his tempests round the globe,
Those graces fade that now so gay unfold.
His ruffian colds her root's soft tendrils seize,
His blasts deep riot on her snowy charms;
Vainly she courts, intent as wont to please,
The dew that moistens, or the ray that warms.
His blasts deep riot on her snowy charms;
Vainly she courts, intent as wont to please,
The dew that moistens, or the ray that warms.
Faded, the eye no virgin whiteness meets,
The sordid weed in beauty rudely vies;
Her breath too loses all its fragrant sweets,
She sinks her head, droops, languishes, and dies.
The sordid weed in beauty rudely vies;
Her breath too loses all its fragrant sweets,
She sinks her head, droops, languishes, and dies.
Just emblem, Maria, though discern'd by few,
Of that soft sex, whose ornament you shine;
This maxim, grav'd on adamant, how true,
“Sure as arise, must Beauty's sun decline!”
Of that soft sex, whose ornament you shine;
This maxim, grav'd on adamant, how true,
“Sure as arise, must Beauty's sun decline!”
To-day, we flourish in vertumnal bloom,
Display'd our blossoms and our foliage gay;
Next, Winter comes, deep-muffled up in gloom,
Tears up our roots, and sweeps our charms away.
Display'd our blossoms and our foliage gay;
Next, Winter comes, deep-muffled up in gloom,
Tears up our roots, and sweeps our charms away.
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Not surer Beauty dyes the virgin's lip
In vermile, rich as roses blown enjoy,
Than Death, who loves the fairest buds to nip,
With cold, cold touch, that vermile will destroy.
In vermile, rich as roses blown enjoy,
Than Death, who loves the fairest buds to nip,
With cold, cold touch, that vermile will destroy.
Let then each Lily youthful Celia views,
How fair remind her, but how fading too;
That, hence, will sweets more exquisite diffuse,
Celia boast charms before she never knew.
How fair remind her, but how fading too;
That, hence, will sweets more exquisite diffuse,
Celia boast charms before she never knew.
For, haply, some sad twilight-vagrant swain
Shall oft revolve, engrav'd, the fair one's doom,
Cut off, the fam'd Monimia of the plain,
In Youth's gay spring, and Health's unsully'd bloom.
Shall oft revolve, engrav'd, the fair one's doom,
Cut off, the fam'd Monimia of the plain,
In Youth's gay spring, and Health's unsully'd bloom.
| Original poems on several subjects | |