Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric :: :: University of Virginia Library

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

Boyd, Henry

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TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS OF MOIRA, BARONESS HASTINGS, &c. &c

TO THE REV. EDWARD BERWICK,

THE HELOTS. A TRAGEDY.

II.

II.

III.

II.

IV.

THE TEMPLE OF VESTA, A DRAMATIC POEM.

II.

II.

II.

III.

IV.

II.

II.

IV.

III.

II.

III.

IV.

II.

III.

IV.

III.

PRIZE, POEMS, ODES, ELEGIES, &c. &c.

HYMN TO SILENCE,

THE GENIUS OF THE WHITE ROSE,

WOODSTOCK.

THE WANDERER,

ODE THE FIRST. THE SHEPHERD'S DREAM.

ODE THE SECOND. THE SHEPHERD'S NUPTIALS.

ODE THE THIRD. THE SHEPHERD'S VOYAGE.

ODE THE FOURTH. THE SHEPHERD'S RETURN.

ON THE BIRTH DAY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF MOIRA, BARONESS HASTINGS, &c. &c.

ON THE BIRTH DAY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS OF MOIRA, BARONESS HASTINGS, &c. &c.

ON THE BIRTH DAY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF MOIRA, BARONESS HASTINGS, &c. &c.

TO CHARLES WILLIAM BURY, ESQ. ON HIS RETURN FROM ITALY, 1789.

VERSES, LEFT AT THE REV. PETER TURPIN'S,

TO JOSEPH COOPER WALKER, ESQ. M. R. I. A.

TO JOSEPH COOPER WALKER, ESQ. M. R. I. A. &c. &c.

TO WILLIAM PRESTON, ESQ. ON HIS TRAGEDY, ENTITLED DEMOCRATIC RAGE.

ELEGIES.

TO THE REV. JOHN SMYTH, ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG FRIEND, 1779.

HENRIETTA,

ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. THOMAS STEWART,

TO THE REV. DR. LESLIE,

ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR JOHN RAWDON, LATE EARL OF MOIRA,

SPECIMEN OF THE CAPTIVES,

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHARLEMONT, &c.

TO THE RIGHT REVEREND THOMAS PERCY, LORD BISHOP OF DROMORE,

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539

TO CHARLES WILLIAM BURY, ESQ. ON HIS RETURN FROM ITALY, 1789.

I.

Beneath some mould'ring wall's imperial frown,
Or, by some river's flow'ry side,
Of old, in Punic crimson dy'd.
While, thro' the umbrage of the vale,
In liquid accents sweet
Dancing on silver feet,
Her naiads tell the glorious tale;
And, as they seek the neighb'ring deep,
Some ancient warriour seem to weep,
And many a martial form, of gray renown,
Seen by Fancy's kindling eye,
Sweeps in shadowy cohorts by;
Where the mimic eagles gleam
O'er the broad, translucent stream,

540

Engag'd with some Campanian friend
Late, Imagination view'd
Your gently winding footsteps bend.
Then when thy generous grief began to swell
O'er these fair scenes, by Gothic rage defac'd,
O'er the depopulated waste
Where tyranny delights to dwell.
While deeper pangs the bosom wrung,
Of thy sad friend, forbid, with liberal tongue,
His native scandal to proclaim
And propagate Hesperia's shame,
And patriot schemes in vivid colouring wrought,
Engag'd thy kindling thought.
Tracing thy steps, from land to land,
The hasty courier to thy hand
At last, the welcome mandate bore,
That call'd thee to thy native shore.
Thy friend, with sympathetic joy
Thy transport seem'd to share;
But sad Remembrance, to his eye,
Recall'd the bitter tear.
“Thee, perhaps, thy country claims,
“To rank among those noble names,
“Whom the free voice of millions call,
“To think, and act, and speak for all;
“To bless the state with equal laws,
“And earn a people's just applause:

541

“While we, whom erst the world ador'd
“Lords of the balance and the sword;
“Who crush'd the proud, the suppliant sav'd,
“And in his cause the despot brav'd,
“In vain the awful name assume,
“In vain, the pride of ancient Rome,
“Tho' doom'd to muse, in deep despair
“On those proud signs of what we were.”—
—Go then, my friend! to glory go,
Our flowery lawns yield to your hills of snow.
“Old Aneo's wreaths, on other shores bestow'd,
“Perhaps, shall grace the power that rules the Libnian flood.”—

II.

By no vain hope inspir'd, we hail,
The winds that brought thee to thy native shores;
Already to the vernal gale
We saw thy virtues spread their blooming stores.—
—Thy former day of triumph long is past,
Since mounted on the dry and rigorous blast
Which all the congregated vapours hurl'd,
Voluminous, o'er the vast Atlantic world;
And left behind a cloudless ray
That flash'd intolerable day.
The minister of vengeance rode sublime,
Changing our genial skies to Gombroon's arid clime.

542

Hovering o'er the deep serene
He view'd our fields of fading green;
And heard the gentle naiads mourn,
Their tuneless banks, and dusty urn;
But, when on that devoted town
Doom'd to flames, an instant prey,
He cast a look of sorrow down,
He would have flung his phial far away.
He would have wept—the burning sky
Forbade the streaming grief to flow,
He would have bade the zephyrs blow,
To bring the welcome glooms again
Settling o'er the azure plain;
And many a look he cast around
The wide horizon's sea-girt bound,
To spy the showery bow—
—But Fate forbade—for now beneath,
By Eurus' unrelenting breath
Conceiving life; the seeds of fire
O'er the crackling roofs aspire;
And high the fumy columns rise
Dark'ning half the radiant skies,
While shrieks of matrons rend the air,
And hurrying crowds, in deep despair,
Some, from the scene of horrour fly
Some, the scanty stream supply;
Some, by love, or friendship led
The blazing beams undaunted tread,

543

The screaming infant thence convey
Or bear the precious bales away.—
When, o'er the desolated scene
The melancholy morning springs
But “not with healing on her wings,”
Thro' the late jocund street, with rueful mein
The bankrupt crowd dejected strays,
And each the hideous change surveys;
And each—with many a mournful pause between—
His loss recounts—and not in vain,
Soon the prospect smiles again;
Soon their Lord's benignant hand
Bids their former hopes expand.
With better omens bids the roofs ascend,
With better hopes, the peopled streets extend.—
—Of burning towns let venal poets sing,
When blood and ruin marks the victor's way,
But Fame, exulting, as she spreads the wing,
Towards the realms of empyrean day
Dips thy medallion in the rising flame
And to succeeding times anneals her Bury's name!

IV.

Breathe no more! thou vengeful blast!
The fiery tryal now is past!

544

Vulcan yields to Xanthus now,
See—elate with awful brow,
Where the great Milesian Nile
Leaning on his sculptur'd urn
Broods o'er his future sway,
And calls his subject founts to day
To bid the various prospect smile.
From every green hill round
They hear the potent sound,
And meditate their glittering march afar
In humble tendance on his pearly car.
While, far within his deep majestic grot,
With all his blue-ey'd race, in council nigh,
He shows the watry powers, with wonder caught
Their future course beneath a distant sky
In magic mirrour seen, the shadowy prospect charms;
They see the progress of the humid train;
Thro' the deep glen, o'er the plain;
Thro' solemn groves, and smiling farms
Slowly glides the welcome sail,
Changing the produce of the vale,
For all the variegated store
That commerce wafts from every distant shore.
Yon walls, that felt the dire vulcanian blast
Where erst the flame-rob'd God in vengeance past,

545

Shall feel the gentle wave that murmurs round,
Heal her disastrous scars, and close the fiery wound.
Gladly the sedge-crown'd God shall grant the boon,
Won by the charms of that sequester'd maid,
Who rests at noon in yonder glade;
Or steals away, beneath the rising moon,
To tend her Clodia's deep romantic stream;
Or, from yon dewy rising lawn
To mark, beneath the purpling dawn
The sister lakes responsive gleam,
Or, low reclin'd in yonder cave
List'ning to the dashing wave,
When the red autumnal star
Calls her dark levies to the watry war.

FINIS.

A river in Italy.

The Liffey.

The remarkable dry spring, 1784, when Tullamore was burned.

Mr. B. distributed among the sufferers a very considerable sum of money.

Annealing is the art of fixing colours in painting, by means of fire.

See the contest between Vulcan and the River God, in Homer.

The branch of the New Canal, designed to pass by Tullamore.

The river which runs thro' Charleville, near Tullamore, the seat of Mr. Bury.

The new and old Lake in the demesne of Charleville.

The Grotto.