Poems on Various Subjects By John Thelwall. In Two Volumes |
 |
 | 1. |
| II. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. | ELEGY XII. The SWALLOWS.
|
|
|
|
 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
126
ELEGY XII. The SWALLOWS.
[_]
WHILE the author was, one summer's evening, sitting among the branches of a young, but antic-twisted oak, which hangs over a favourite and most romantic dell, (the scenery of which is equally heightened by the bubbling and unequal stream which runs through it, and by the corn-fields, precipices, dingles and bushes, trees, and flowers which adorn its winding brink, and add a beautiful and wild variety to the prospect) two swallows settled on the boughs of the same tree. The noise the first made before he was joined by his companion, together with the romantic scene, suggested to his mind the ideas he has endeavoured to convey in the following Elegy.
Here, 'mongst the branches of this spreading oak,
(Where Philomela's wont to build her bow'r)
Which wreathes fantastic o'er the babbling brook,
To mournful thought I'll dedicate an hour.
(Where Philomela's wont to build her bow'r)
Which wreathes fantastic o'er the babbling brook,
To mournful thought I'll dedicate an hour.
The blushing West, with glowing zone unbrac'd,
To her bright bosom takes the panting Sun;
Who journeys down, behind yon hill, in haste
Obtruding eyes of prying man to shun.
To her bright bosom takes the panting Sun;
Who journeys down, behind yon hill, in haste
Obtruding eyes of prying man to shun.
127
Now 'gins the mournful nightingale to sing,
And with her pipe salute departing day;
Each feather'd songster baits his tired wing,
And calls his partlet to the wonted spray.
And with her pipe salute departing day;
Each feather'd songster baits his tired wing,
And calls his partlet to the wonted spray.
The verdant tenants of the dewy fields
With wonted vespers make each meadow ring;
With sweets surcharg'd, which gaudy Flora yields,
The bee, soft murmuring, homeward bends his wing.
With wonted vespers make each meadow ring;
With sweets surcharg'd, which gaudy Flora yields,
The bee, soft murmuring, homeward bends his wing.
And see where Phrogne steers her fearless flight,
And, perching near me, from the distant spray
Thus seems her tim'rous partner to invite:
“Oh guide, my love! thy purple wing this way.
And, perching near me, from the distant spray
Thus seems her tim'rous partner to invite:
“Oh guide, my love! thy purple wing this way.
“Oh come, my love! devoid of Fear's alarm:
“It is no foe invades our peaceful bow'r;
“But Strephon 'tis, who scorns a bird to harm,
“But ever guards them with his utmost pow'r.
“It is no foe invades our peaceful bow'r;
“But Strephon 'tis, who scorns a bird to harm,
“But ever guards them with his utmost pow'r.
“Forlorn he loves to seek the dimpled rills
“Which thro' the winding dells meanders stray;
“For here the Muse his throbbing bosom fills,
“And Fairies drive his pensive thoughts away.
“Which thro' the winding dells meanders stray;
“For here the Muse his throbbing bosom fills,
“And Fairies drive his pensive thoughts away.
128
“One night I saw him by this bushy dell,
“Which shone reflecting mild Lucina's sheen;
“I stretch'd the wing, to bid my bow'r farewel,
“When strait before me stood the Fairy Queen.
“Which shone reflecting mild Lucina's sheen;
“I stretch'd the wing, to bid my bow'r farewel,
“When strait before me stood the Fairy Queen.
‘Restrain thy flight, sweet chatterer!’ she cried,
‘Thy fluttering heart divest of needless fear:
‘By no unfeeling swain thou art espied:—
‘The friend and lover of our haunts is here.
‘Thy fluttering heart divest of needless fear:
‘By no unfeeling swain thou art espied:—
‘The friend and lover of our haunts is here.
‘He never climb'd the tree at midnight hours
‘To rob the stock-dove of her callow young;
‘Nor stole the eggs from out the linnet's bow'rs;
‘Nor cag'd the sky-lark for his dulcet song.
‘To rob the stock-dove of her callow young;
‘Nor stole the eggs from out the linnet's bow'rs;
‘Nor cag'd the sky-lark for his dulcet song.
‘The fairies love him, and his steps attend,
‘From damps protect him, and his sorrows soothe:
‘For ever they the love-lorn swain befriend,
‘And ever pity unrewarded truth.
‘From damps protect him, and his sorrows soothe:
‘For ever they the love-lorn swain befriend,
‘And ever pity unrewarded truth.
‘Full oft the youth, the anxious hours to kill,
‘Will, with no skilless toil, our haunts improve;
‘Encrease the murmurs of each babbling rill
‘With stone-built falls, and grots which fairies love.
‘Will, with no skilless toil, our haunts improve;
‘Encrease the murmurs of each babbling rill
‘With stone-built falls, and grots which fairies love.
129
‘Then fear not him, but tranquil keep thy bow'r;
‘For love his feeling bosom has refin'd;
‘To ev'ry tender passion added pow'r,
‘And wak'd each chord of pity in his mind.
‘For love his feeling bosom has refin'd;
‘To ev'ry tender passion added pow'r,
‘And wak'd each chord of pity in his mind.
‘Oh that that love which prompts each gen'rous deed,
‘Which harmonizes, humanizes life,
‘Should make the lover's inward bosom bleed!
‘Give peace to others, but to him give strife!
‘Which harmonizes, humanizes life,
‘Should make the lover's inward bosom bleed!
‘Give peace to others, but to him give strife!
‘Thus scorching flames on Ætna's bowels prey,
‘And with convulsions rend her tortur'd womb,
‘While the heat makes surrounding vallies gay,
‘And decorates them with each brighter bloom.
‘And with convulsions rend her tortur'd womb,
‘While the heat makes surrounding vallies gay,
‘And decorates them with each brighter bloom.
“So spoke the Queen; then gliding light away,
“Her mystic train she sought beside the stream,
“Where to the tinkling rill they sportive play,
“And bask and frolick in the yellow beam.
“Her mystic train she sought beside the stream,
“Where to the tinkling rill they sportive play,
“And bask and frolick in the yellow beam.
“Then come, my love, nor let his presence chace
“Our trembling pinions from the wonted bow'r;
“But, side by side, we'll keep our tranquil place,
“And to delight him try our skilless pow'r.
“Our trembling pinions from the wonted bow'r;
“But, side by side, we'll keep our tranquil place,
“And to delight him try our skilless pow'r.
130
“Tho' with the lark's shrill pipe we can't compare,
“Nor can we match the tuneful linnet's throat,
“Yet our rude lays may mitigate his care,
“And tho' unskilful, friendly is our note.
“Nor can we match the tuneful linnet's throat,
“Yet our rude lays may mitigate his care,
“And tho' unskilful, friendly is our note.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |