The Poetical Works of Anna Seward With Extracts from her Literary Correspondence. Edited by Walter Scott ... In Three Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of Anna Seward |  |
160
GLEE.
Now Spring wakes the May-morn, the sweetest of hours
Calls the lark to the sun-beam, the bee to the flowers;
Calls Youth, Love, and Beauty to hail the new day,
And twine their gay garlands in honour of May;
Yet hope not, amid the soft pleasures they bring,
That moments so jocund will pause on their wing!
Calls the lark to the sun-beam, the bee to the flowers;
Calls Youth, Love, and Beauty to hail the new day,
And twine their gay garlands in honour of May;
Yet hope not, amid the soft pleasures they bring,
That moments so jocund will pause on their wing!
Obey, my fair Laura, the summons that breathes
In the hue of the trees, in the scent of the wreaths,
In the song of the woodlands, for love is the lay,
And lustre and perfume are types of his sway;
More tuneful his accents, more rosy his spring,
And O! not less rapid the flight of his wing!
In the hue of the trees, in the scent of the wreaths,
In the song of the woodlands, for love is the lay,
And lustre and perfume are types of his sway;
More tuneful his accents, more rosy his spring,
And O! not less rapid the flight of his wing!
161
ODE TO EUPHROSYNE,
AN EPITHALAMIUM ON THE MARRIAGE OF DOCTOR D--- AND MISS M---.
Daughter of Heaven, and friend of earth,
Who fear'st no cloud upon thy rosy light,
Parent of Health, and Wit, and Mirth,
Dispensing permanence to gay delight,
Euphrosyne, this sacred hour,
Consecrate the mutual vow!—
Impassion'd Love must twine his wreath in vain,
And vainly gild the nuptial chain,
If thou should'st rove more favour'd scenes among,
Goddess of my rising song!
Of texture frail then would each joy be form'd,
And care must chill the hearts enamour'd transport warm'd.
Who fear'st no cloud upon thy rosy light,
Parent of Health, and Wit, and Mirth,
Dispensing permanence to gay delight,
Euphrosyne, this sacred hour,
Consecrate the mutual vow!—
Impassion'd Love must twine his wreath in vain,
And vainly gild the nuptial chain,
If thou should'st rove more favour'd scenes among,
Goddess of my rising song!
Of texture frail then would each joy be form'd,
And care must chill the hearts enamour'd transport warm'd.
Queen of the dimpled smile, be near,
Thy influence on the bridal garland breathe!
Since oft the buds of nightshade darkly peer
Beneath the sprays of that envermeil'd wreath,
Too prone are Grief, Disease, and Care,
To slide those mournful emblems there;
And oft, with pallid lip and furrow'd brows,
Jealousy remorseless throws
Fires on the marriage flame, which soon expand,
And change it to a livid brand;
But thou, gay Goddess, with auspicious mien
Hymen's bright torch can'st guard, his blooming garland screen.
Thy influence on the bridal garland breathe!
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Beneath the sprays of that envermeil'd wreath,
Too prone are Grief, Disease, and Care,
To slide those mournful emblems there;
And oft, with pallid lip and furrow'd brows,
Jealousy remorseless throws
Fires on the marriage flame, which soon expand,
And change it to a livid brand;
But thou, gay Goddess, with auspicious mien
Hymen's bright torch can'st guard, his blooming garland screen.
Come then, on the morning gale,
Chasing every demon pale!
So flies the mist when Phoebus gleams,
Pierced thro' and thro' with arrowy beams
Come then, and the lovers hail,
Worthy all thy dear caressing,
Liveliest smile, and fondest blessing!—
Venus bade the youth inherit
Love, and virtues that endure;
Flames, which fired the lover's spirit,
When time was young, and faith was pure.
Not gay Leander with more ardour warm
When his firm nerves each rising dread withstood;
When, braving night,—the sea,—the howling storm,
He plough'd the billows of the Euxine flood.
This plighted pair should midnight waves divide,
As bold an arm would stem the loud, conflicting tide.
Chasing every demon pale!
So flies the mist when Phoebus gleams,
Pierced thro' and thro' with arrowy beams
Come then, and the lovers hail,
Worthy all thy dear caressing,
Liveliest smile, and fondest blessing!—
Venus bade the youth inherit
Love, and virtues that endure;
Flames, which fired the lover's spirit,
When time was young, and faith was pure.
Not gay Leander with more ardour warm
When his firm nerves each rising dread withstood;
When, braving night,—the sea,—the howling storm,
He plough'd the billows of the Euxine flood.
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As bold an arm would stem the loud, conflicting tide.
A deep glen hides his chosen maid,
The tender flower of that sequester'd vale;
In the sweet lily's charms array'd,
When from the sun its folding leaves conceal
The bending cups of purest snow,
Whence its lavish perfumes flow.
So dwells, beneath that modest air,
A soul, as her complexion fair,
As her quick blush, and sunny tresses warm;
Mindless to fear, or practise harm,
No cold distrust repels its fervent glow,
Closes her liberal hand, or shades her smiling brow.
The tender flower of that sequester'd vale;
In the sweet lily's charms array'd,
When from the sun its folding leaves conceal
The bending cups of purest snow,
Whence its lavish perfumes flow.
So dwells, beneath that modest air,
A soul, as her complexion fair,
As her quick blush, and sunny tresses warm;
Mindless to fear, or practise harm,
No cold distrust repels its fervent glow,
Closes her liberal hand, or shades her smiling brow.
Credulity, of Virtue born,
With the swift-springing drop of pity's dew,
In mild simplicity, adorn,
And shed o'er her ripe youth their freshest hue;
While Taste, arranging Fancy's stores,
A clear libation gently pours
Incessant on the texture of her mind;
By the sparkling streams refined
From rust opake, and from the misty stains
Which languid indolence retains.
Haste then, Euphrosyne, and bless the shrines,
Where the dear artless maid her plighted hand resigns!
With the swift-springing drop of pity's dew,
In mild simplicity, adorn,
And shed o'er her ripe youth their freshest hue;
While Taste, arranging Fancy's stores,
A clear libation gently pours
Incessant on the texture of her mind;
By the sparkling streams refined
From rust opake, and from the misty stains
Which languid indolence retains.
Haste then, Euphrosyne, and bless the shrines,
Where the dear artless maid her plighted hand resigns!
164
Be the faithful, generous pair,
Goddess, thy incessant care!
Wave thou still, with jocund mirth,
Thy light wand o'er their glowing hearth,
Where drops no briny tear!
Wave it, when wintry storms are yelling
Loud around their cheerful dwelling;
When summer rays, the year adorning,
Bless each mountain, dale, and plain,
Light again the crystal morning,
Gild the splendent noon again;
Or tinge the purple clouds of beauteous eve,
Slowly that fade into the stealing night.—
O! may each veering scene from thee receive
White tints of peace, and pleasure's ruddy light!
Since absent thou, how dim our youthful days,
Thou, who canst more illume the gorgeous, solar blaze!
Goddess, thy incessant care!
Wave thou still, with jocund mirth,
Thy light wand o'er their glowing hearth,
Where drops no briny tear!
Wave it, when wintry storms are yelling
Loud around their cheerful dwelling;
When summer rays, the year adorning,
Bless each mountain, dale, and plain,
Light again the crystal morning,
Gild the splendent noon again;
Or tinge the purple clouds of beauteous eve,
Slowly that fade into the stealing night.—
O! may each veering scene from thee receive
White tints of peace, and pleasure's ruddy light!
Since absent thou, how dim our youthful days,
Thou, who canst more illume the gorgeous, solar blaze!
165
PROLOGUE
WRITTEN FOR THE TRAGEDY OF BRAGANZA.
On Britain's stage, when Roman Portia charms,
And female grace with manly courage arms,
Each sex alike her daring virtues fire,
The fair exult, and all the brave admire.
Beyond her Brutus' life the public weal
Nobly she loves, and animates his zeal,
But soon the o'er-strain'd cords of courage break,
And fatal madness triumphs o'er the wreck.
And female grace with manly courage arms,
Each sex alike her daring virtues fire,
The fair exult, and all the brave admire.
Beyond her Brutus' life the public weal
Nobly she loves, and animates his zeal,
But soon the o'er-strain'd cords of courage break,
And fatal madness triumphs o'er the wreck.
More self-sustain'd, pride of a recent age,
Louisa's radiance gilds the historic page,
Her portrait here, display'd in faithful light,
A virgin muse exhibits to your sight.
She pleads the unpractised hand of truant Youth,
But boasts the sacred patronage of Truth.
Louisa's radiance gilds the historic page,
Her portrait here, display'd in faithful light,
A virgin muse exhibits to your sight.
She pleads the unpractised hand of truant Youth,
But boasts the sacred patronage of Truth.
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Oft have you wept Elfrida's fancied woes,
Charm'd with each virtue that her bard bestows;
While Truth indignant fled the varnish'd theme,
He cloth'd the faithless fair with worth supreme;
Each shrinking voice confess'd the touch refined,
That chased the Ethiop blackness of her mind.
O! let those tears for bright Louisa stream,
Around whose brows the genuine virtues beam!
Charm'd with each virtue that her bard bestows;
While Truth indignant fled the varnish'd theme,
He cloth'd the faithless fair with worth supreme;
Each shrinking voice confess'd the touch refined,
That chased the Ethiop blackness of her mind.
O! let those tears for bright Louisa stream,
Around whose brows the genuine virtues beam!
Contempt of death, in Freedom's glorious cause,
By sterner manhood shown, demands applause;
Such glorious heights when softer woman soars,
Awaken'd Sympathy her tribute pours;
The heart's quick throb, sweet sigh, and raptured tear,
For Love and Beauty, that so greatly dare.
By sterner manhood shown, demands applause;
Such glorious heights when softer woman soars,
Awaken'd Sympathy her tribute pours;
The heart's quick throb, sweet sigh, and raptured tear,
For Love and Beauty, that so greatly dare.
Oft has your rigid justice been disarm'd
When graceful Cleopatra spoke and charm'd.
Still the imperial criminal inspires
Some kind compassion for unhallow'd fires,
Tho' worlds ill-lost o'erwhelm her hero's fame,
And victim millions curse the guilty flame;
Yet still, beneath her self-inflicted fate,
You feel her guilty, but confess her great;
Own the rash deed high-soul'd,—in that dark time
Stampt with no dire reproach, no impious crime.
Long years of error thus the generous mourn,
When Courage clasps the expiatory urn.
When graceful Cleopatra spoke and charm'd.
Still the imperial criminal inspires
Some kind compassion for unhallow'd fires,
Tho' worlds ill-lost o'erwhelm her hero's fame,
And victim millions curse the guilty flame;
Yet still, beneath her self-inflicted fate,
You feel her guilty, but confess her great;
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Stampt with no dire reproach, no impious crime.
Long years of error thus the generous mourn,
When Courage clasps the expiatory urn.
A purer spirit now demands acclaim,
True patriot virtue in a female frame,
And more than Roman firmness.—In that cause,
Ye Britons, mitigate the critics' laws!
For her dear sake, who your own spirit breathes,
Adorn her poet with your honour'd wreaths!
On you his hopes, on you his fears await,
Your smile is glory, and your frown is fate.
True patriot virtue in a female frame,
And more than Roman firmness.—In that cause,
Ye Britons, mitigate the critics' laws!
For her dear sake, who your own spirit breathes,
Adorn her poet with your honour'd wreaths!
On you his hopes, on you his fears await,
Your smile is glory, and your frown is fate.
168
PROLOGUE
WRITTEN FOR MR PENN.
With Nature's truth, be it the actor's care,
By turns, each passion's varied form to wear;
Assume the joy, the grief, the fear, the rage,
That charm, and thrill, and fire the scenic page;
Bid Rowe, bid Otway's magic softness rise,
Steal o'er his form, and languish in his eyes;
Melt in his voice, till Memory hints no more
The woes unreal; but, with forfeit power,
Resigns her empire o'er the yielding soul
To sighs and tears she ceases to controul.
By turns, each passion's varied form to wear;
Assume the joy, the grief, the fear, the rage,
That charm, and thrill, and fire the scenic page;
Bid Rowe, bid Otway's magic softness rise,
Steal o'er his form, and languish in his eyes;
Melt in his voice, till Memory hints no more
The woes unreal; but, with forfeit power,
Resigns her empire o'er the yielding soul
To sighs and tears she ceases to controul.
169
Take heed that energy, sublimely strong,
Imbibe the meteor-fires of gloomy Young;
When, as scorn'd love paternal envy goads,
Fierce Perseus invocates the dire abodes;
To aid grim Vengeance, calls their demon hosts
From the red confines of sulphureous coasts;
Or, when fell Zanga's sable hand shall spread
“Eternal curtains round Alonzo's bed.”
Imbibe the meteor-fires of gloomy Young;
When, as scorn'd love paternal envy goads,
Fierce Perseus invocates the dire abodes;
To aid grim Vengeance, calls their demon hosts
From the red confines of sulphureous coasts;
Or, when fell Zanga's sable hand shall spread
“Eternal curtains round Alonzo's bed.”
Now, as the powers of later genius shine,
And Jephson glows along his nervous line,
Ne'er may unskilful acting cloud the rays,
Inferior only to his Shakespear's blaze!
Whether, with every anguish Love can feel,
Braganza tremble at th' impending steel;
Or the devoted Narbonne's passions lead,
Headlong and fierce, to the accursed deed,
While rolls the thunder, and the lightnings glare
On the proud Filiacide's upstarting hair.
And Jephson glows along his nervous line,
Ne'er may unskilful acting cloud the rays,
Inferior only to his Shakespear's blaze!
Whether, with every anguish Love can feel,
Braganza tremble at th' impending steel;
Or the devoted Narbonne's passions lead,
Headlong and fierce, to the accursed deed,
While rolls the thunder, and the lightnings glare
On the proud Filiacide's upstarting hair.
In scenes like these, the just performer draws
The fixed attention, and the mute applause;
Yet most his powers enkindle rising fame
From mighty Shakespear's orb of solar flame.
The fixed attention, and the mute applause;
Yet most his powers enkindle rising fame
From mighty Shakespear's orb of solar flame.
But real grief, the scenic Proteus knows,
Will blunt the mimic joys, the mimic woes.
How hard to breathe, tho' loftiest themes inspire,
The monarch's dignity, the warrior's fire;
The phrenzied passion, in its dreariest glare,
Love's tender grace, and Hope's energic air,
When sharp Distress, the bane of studious Art,
Sits, like a vulture, on the bleeding heart.
Will blunt the mimic joys, the mimic woes.
170
The monarch's dignity, the warrior's fire;
The phrenzied passion, in its dreariest glare,
Love's tender grace, and Hope's energic air,
When sharp Distress, the bane of studious Art,
Sits, like a vulture, on the bleeding heart.
Long 'twas my fate its ravenous tooth to feel,
Yet, unrepining, every pang conceal;
But, at the public smile, the bird of prey
Spreads his dark wing, and swiftly flies away.
Yet, unrepining, every pang conceal;
But, at the public smile, the bird of prey
Spreads his dark wing, and swiftly flies away.
With generous voice, and liberal hands, that know
Warmly to praise, and nobly to bestow,
My honour'd patrons, your protecting power,
So kindly active in this anxious hour,
Soft in my recent wounds pours oil and wine,
And bids the health of peace once more be mine!
Warmly to praise, and nobly to bestow,
My honour'd patrons, your protecting power,
So kindly active in this anxious hour,
Soft in my recent wounds pours oil and wine,
And bids the health of peace once more be mine!
An itinerant performer of great ability, whom indiscretion, and an extravagant wife, had prevented from attaining better situations, which his talents would have adorned. This prologue was spoken by him very finely, for his benefit, at Birmingham, in the spring 1782.
171
PROLOGUE
TO THE CIRCASSIAN,
WRITTEN IN AUTUMN 1782.
Slow from an ebon throne's majestic height,
A beauteous form glides mournful on my sight,
The floating purple, and the lofty mien,
Proclaim the empress of the tragic scene;
Divine Melpomene!—aggrieved she stands,
Tears fast descending on her folded hands;
The showery clouds thus dim the azure skies,
Thus round the moon the misty halos rise.
A beauteous form glides mournful on my sight,
The floating purple, and the lofty mien,
Proclaim the empress of the tragic scene;
Divine Melpomene!—aggrieved she stands,
Tears fast descending on her folded hands;
The showery clouds thus dim the azure skies,
Thus round the moon the misty halos rise.
But soft!—the Muse of Anguish sighing speaks,
Faint on my ear the murmuring accent breaks;
Low hollow gales the plaintive sounds convey,
And thus the mourner says,—or seems to say:
Faint on my ear the murmuring accent breaks;
Low hollow gales the plaintive sounds convey,
And thus the mourner says,—or seems to say:
“Can then the tender female bosom prove
“A keener pang than disappointed love?
“Ah me! for light Thalia more than shares
“My darling Sheridan's devoted cares!
“On her vain brows his lavish wreaths are thrown,
“His thousand radiant gems emblaze her zone.
“A keener pang than disappointed love?
172
“My darling Sheridan's devoted cares!
“On her vain brows his lavish wreaths are thrown,
“His thousand radiant gems emblaze her zone.
“What tho' her bounty gave to his bright wand
“O'er each gay grace of wit supreme command,
“Yet, with sublimer force, my chemic fire
“With proud distinction deck'd his sacred lyre;
“To purest gold its warbling wires I turn'd,
“When their sweet lays o'er lifeless Garrick mourn'd.
“O'er each gay grace of wit supreme command,
“Yet, with sublimer force, my chemic fire
“With proud distinction deck'd his sacred lyre;
“To purest gold its warbling wires I turn'd,
“When their sweet lays o'er lifeless Garrick mourn'd.
“And once he sung, in elevated strain,
“My charms superior, and my right to reign;
“When, with the majesty my impulse throws
“In chasten'd splendour, on the poet's brows,
“He bade the tears, that stream'd o'er Asia's Queen,
“Flow soft in real Sorrow's lonely scene:
“And, while they melt the heart, inspire its zeal
“To sooth by pity, or by bounty heal.
“Ah! soon he smiled those graceful tears away,
“And for my frolic Rival wore the lay.
“My charms superior, and my right to reign;
“When, with the majesty my impulse throws
“In chasten'd splendour, on the poet's brows,
“He bade the tears, that stream'd o'er Asia's Queen,
“Flow soft in real Sorrow's lonely scene:
“And, while they melt the heart, inspire its zeal
“To sooth by pity, or by bounty heal.
“Ah! soon he smiled those graceful tears away,
“And for my frolic Rival wore the lay.
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“Yet let me hope the jocund pride of youth
“Alone has warpt from me his love and truth;
“That soon the rover may again be mine,
“And with unfading laurels deck my shrine.
“Alone has warpt from me his love and truth;
“That soon the rover may again be mine,
“And with unfading laurels deck my shrine.
“To-night an humbler hand the meed bestows,
“And on my shrine the cypress garland throws.
“O! may the fost'ring breath of public praise,
“Preserve from cruel blight the votive sprays!”
“And on my shrine the cypress garland throws.
“O! may the fost'ring breath of public praise,
“Preserve from cruel blight the votive sprays!”
I hear no more—for, with a pensive smile,
Slow glides the Muse down yonder winding isle.
Slow glides the Muse down yonder winding isle.
May you, ye brave, ye wise, ye good, ye fair,
Fulfil, with suffrage kind, her fervent prayer!
And since no force of wit, or comic art,
Can shut to Sorrow's plaint the British heart,
Hope whispers that your praise may bless the Bard,
His first ambition, and his bright reward.
Fulfil, with suffrage kind, her fervent prayer!
And since no force of wit, or comic art,
Can shut to Sorrow's plaint the British heart,
Hope whispers that your praise may bless the Bard,
His first ambition, and his bright reward.
174
PROLOGUE
TO THE FORTUNATE DISAPPOINTMENT.
To teach our ductile youth the pleasing art,
Whose powers persuasive steal into the heart,
When graceful motion, and when accent just,
Prove faithful ever to the writer's trust,
No idle aim, no light design betrays,
For virtue smiles on generous thirst of praise:
And oft exterior elegance we find
Give added influence to the noble mind!
Since warmest glow the emulative fires,
If, while our sense approves, our taste admires.
Whose powers persuasive steal into the heart,
When graceful motion, and when accent just,
Prove faithful ever to the writer's trust,
No idle aim, no light design betrays,
For virtue smiles on generous thirst of praise:
And oft exterior elegance we find
Give added influence to the noble mind!
Since warmest glow the emulative fires,
If, while our sense approves, our taste admires.
But more important, more exalted views
Prompt the kind efforts of our moral muse.
Still (that the youthful maid each fault may scorn,
Of cold reserve, or baser malice born)
Bid fair Ingenuousness each thought reveal,
To the mild guardians of her studied weal,
Whom long experience has empower'd to know,
When fleeting pleasures lead to lasting woe.
Prompt the kind efforts of our moral muse.
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Of cold reserve, or baser malice born)
Bid fair Ingenuousness each thought reveal,
To the mild guardians of her studied weal,
Whom long experience has empower'd to know,
When fleeting pleasures lead to lasting woe.
Thus, while forewarn'd by them, ye shun the bowers
Where serpents lurk beneath the gaudy flowers,
Oft will their cares the passing hour employ
To ope for you the springs of genuine joy;
Point the safe track where Life's worst perils cease,
The ways of pleasantness, the paths of peace.
Where serpents lurk beneath the gaudy flowers,
Oft will their cares the passing hour employ
To ope for you the springs of genuine joy;
Point the safe track where Life's worst perils cease,
The ways of pleasantness, the paths of peace.
176
EPILOGUE
TO THE FORRUNATE DISAPPOINTMENT.
To-night the scene display'd what secret smart,
What self-reproach must wound the virgin's heart,
Rashly who dares from monitory eyes
Veil her increasing passions, as they rise!—
Ah thankless!—cold!—she has no middle choice,
But long repentance, or enduring vice,
Eliza's tears, or the detested guile
Of artful Caroline's betraying smile;
Fault leads to fault, till all the soul's defiled,
And in base woman, ends the cunning child.
What self-reproach must wound the virgin's heart,
Rashly who dares from monitory eyes
Veil her increasing passions, as they rise!—
Ah thankless!—cold!—she has no middle choice,
But long repentance, or enduring vice,
Eliza's tears, or the detested guile
Of artful Caroline's betraying smile;
Fault leads to fault, till all the soul's defiled,
And in base woman, ends the cunning child.
Eliza,
drooping, seems a blighted rose,
That, while each sister-bud in beauty blows,
Deep in its core the cankering worm receives,
Whose sickly slime cements the yellowing leaves.
That, while each sister-bud in beauty blows,
Deep in its core the cankering worm receives,
Whose sickly slime cements the yellowing leaves.
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Thus Disingenuousness, with chill controul,
Contracts the worth, the gladness of the soul;
Dims all the rays that light the artless eye,
Pales the soft cheek, and prompts the secret sigh.
Contracts the worth, the gladness of the soul;
Dims all the rays that light the artless eye,
Pales the soft cheek, and prompts the secret sigh.
But guilty Caroline we shuddering view,
Like the fell spider, weave her treacherous clue.
Emblem of hearts, where Envy's venom swells,
That dark, sly, solitary reptile dwells;
Bane to the heedless insect of the meads,
That near the gleaming maze of viscous threads
Waves the light wing, which now no more shall bear
The entangled victim thro' the sunny air.
Like the fell spider, weave her treacherous clue.
Emblem of hearts, where Envy's venom swells,
That dark, sly, solitary reptile dwells;
Bane to the heedless insect of the meads,
That near the gleaming maze of viscous threads
Waves the light wing, which now no more shall bear
The entangled victim thro' the sunny air.
Thus spirits mischievous, who ne'er can prove
Joys, or of sisterly, or social love,
Stung by their conscious worthlessness, prepare,
For others' peace, the smooth insidious snare.
Joys, or of sisterly, or social love,
Stung by their conscious worthlessness, prepare,
For others' peace, the smooth insidious snare.
O! be it ours to watch each thought betimes,
Ere errors grow, by habit, into crimes!
To think the counsels guardian friends impart
Best shield from ill the inexperienced heart;
Cherish each virtuous impulse, and improve
To fairest flowers the seeds of duteous love!
Ere errors grow, by habit, into crimes!
To think the counsels guardian friends impart
Best shield from ill the inexperienced heart;
Cherish each virtuous impulse, and improve
To fairest flowers the seeds of duteous love!
Flowers of the mind, ye fear no winter's rage,
Grace our gay prime, adorn our fading age,
If still, to strengthen their yet fragile stems,
And in unfading colours tint their gems,
Enlivening Gratitude, and generous Truth,
Shine the warm day-stars of our rising youth.
Grace our gay prime, adorn our fading age,
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And in unfading colours tint their gems,
Enlivening Gratitude, and generous Truth,
Shine the warm day-stars of our rising youth.
179
COMPLAINT OF AN ARABIAN LOVER.
ODE.
Wide o'er the drowsy world, incumbent Night,
Sullen and drear, his sable wing has spread!
The waning moon, with interrupted light,
Gleams cold and misty on my fever'd bed!
Cold as she is, to her my bursting heart
Shall pour its waste of woe, its unavailing smart.
Sullen and drear, his sable wing has spread!
The waning moon, with interrupted light,
Gleams cold and misty on my fever'd bed!
Cold as she is, to her my bursting heart
Shall pour its waste of woe, its unavailing smart.
Thro' the long hours—ah me! how long the hours!
My restless limbs no balmy languors know;
Grieved tho' I am, yet grief's assuaging showers
From burning eye-balls still refuse to flow;
Love's jealous fires, kindled by Aza's frown,
Not the vast watery world, with all its waves can drown.
My restless limbs no balmy languors know;
Grieved tho' I am, yet grief's assuaging showers
From burning eye-balls still refuse to flow;
Love's jealous fires, kindled by Aza's frown,
Not the vast watery world, with all its waves can drown.
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Slow pass the stars along the night's dun plain!
Still in their destined sphere serene they move;
Nor does their mild effulgence shine in vain,
Like the fierce blazes of neglected love:
But this—this pang dissolves the galling chain!
Aza, a broken heart defies thy fix'd disdain!
Still in their destined sphere serene they move;
Nor does their mild effulgence shine in vain,
Like the fierce blazes of neglected love:
But this—this pang dissolves the galling chain!
Aza, a broken heart defies thy fix'd disdain!
A critical friend of the author's seemed to doubt whether a frown kindling fire was just metaphor; but, since it is poetically orthodox to say that the flame of love is lighted by the sunny ray of a smile, that of jealousy may certainly be said to enkindle from the lightning ofa frowning eye. There are lurid and dismal fires, as well as bright and cheerful ones.
181
BLINDNESS,
A POEM.
WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF AN ARTIST, WHO LOST HIS SIGHT BY THE GUTTA SERENA, IN HIS TWENTY-EIGHTH YEAR, AND WHO WAS THEREFORE OBLIGED TO CHANGE HIS PROFESSION FOR THAT OF MUSIC.
Long for my circling years the Lord of Day
Illumed creation with his glorious ray;
And long of youth and health the rosy hours
Saw liberal toil, with promissory powers,
Preparing, against faded age, the peace
Of modest competence, when strength might cease.
Then,—as with cheerful hope my earnest sight
Imbibed the blessings of the sacred light,
Slow on that sight the mists preclusive stole;
Dim and more dim the gathering shadows roll,
Till, with the last thick drop, the visual boon
Sunk into darkness 'mid the blaze of noon!
Illumed creation with his glorious ray;
And long of youth and health the rosy hours
Saw liberal toil, with promissory powers,
Preparing, against faded age, the peace
Of modest competence, when strength might cease.
Then,—as with cheerful hope my earnest sight
Imbibed the blessings of the sacred light,
Slow on that sight the mists preclusive stole;
Dim and more dim the gathering shadows roll,
182
Sunk into darkness 'mid the blaze of noon!
How have I loved the changeful year to trace,
Each laughing beauty, each terrific grace;
To see warm Spring her vital influence pour,
Green the bleak field, and gild the balmy shower;
Tint the young foliage with her tenderest hue,
And feed the opening flowers with richest dew!
Each laughing beauty, each terrific grace;
To see warm Spring her vital influence pour,
Green the bleak field, and gild the balmy shower;
Tint the young foliage with her tenderest hue,
And feed the opening flowers with richest dew!
Charm'd did I see bright Summer climb the sky,
Leave half the river's pebbly channel dry,
On breathing meads the fragrant haycocks pile,
Till the ripe Year's consummate glories smile:—
Leave half the river's pebbly channel dry,
On breathing meads the fragrant haycocks pile,
Till the ripe Year's consummate glories smile:—
View'd jocund Autumn rear her rival sheaves,
With gold and purple tip the unfaded leaves;
Crown amber morning with serenest noons,
And night's dark zenith with protracted moons;
Shake the rich fruit from every loaded bough,
And with the wheaten wreath adorn her brow;
Till colder gales the paled horizon roam,
And stain and smear the gold-empurpled bloom,
While sweeping fogs, conglobing as they pass,
Bend with their silent drops the long coarse grass,
And change, as on screen'd plat it timid blows,
To livid hue the lone and lingering rose;
Bare the rude thorns on all the russet hills,
And crust with ice the borders of the rills;—
Pensive I mark'd, when, with reverted eyes,
Disorder'd garments and foreboding sighs,
The last fair season left hill, dale, and plain,
The yielded victims of the iron reign:—
With gold and purple tip the unfaded leaves;
Crown amber morning with serenest noons,
And night's dark zenith with protracted moons;
Shake the rich fruit from every loaded bough,
And with the wheaten wreath adorn her brow;
Till colder gales the paled horizon roam,
And stain and smear the gold-empurpled bloom,
While sweeping fogs, conglobing as they pass,
Bend with their silent drops the long coarse grass,
And change, as on screen'd plat it timid blows,
To livid hue the lone and lingering rose;
183
And crust with ice the borders of the rills;—
Pensive I mark'd, when, with reverted eyes,
Disorder'd garments and foreboding sighs,
The last fair season left hill, dale, and plain,
The yielded victims of the iron reign:—
Saw Winter rove the dun and whistling heath,
Swoln floods arresting with petrific breath,
Send round the mountains all his winds to howl,
Pale the slow morn, and bid the long night scowl;
But ah! the glowing hearth, the neat repast,
Derided oft the despot's power to blast,
Since, if without his furious storms might pass,
Boom thro' the vales, and rattle on the glass,
Within was the gay talk, the flowing bowl,
And Friendship's smile, that summer of the soul!
Swoln floods arresting with petrific breath,
Send round the mountains all his winds to howl,
Pale the slow morn, and bid the long night scowl;
But ah! the glowing hearth, the neat repast,
Derided oft the despot's power to blast,
Since, if without his furious storms might pass,
Boom thro' the vales, and rattle on the glass,
Within was the gay talk, the flowing bowl,
And Friendship's smile, that summer of the soul!
Beloved vicissitudes! to me ye live
Only on memory's record;—yet ye give
The retrospective pleasure, ne'er to rise
To the sad few, of ever-rayless eyes,
Whose infant orbs, not opening on the light,
From night maternal sprung to ceaseless night;
Lost to their sense each charm kind Nature shews,
That dawns and spreads, that varies and that glows.
Only on memory's record;—yet ye give
The retrospective pleasure, ne'er to rise
To the sad few, of ever-rayless eyes,
Whose infant orbs, not opening on the light,
From night maternal sprung to ceaseless night;
Lost to their sense each charm kind Nature shews,
That dawns and spreads, that varies and that glows.
184
Then grateful let me prove, indulged to find
Exemption from those pangs which rack the mind,
Springing from foil'd solicitude to reach
What Genius cannot paint, nor Wisdom teach;
Pangs which the fruitless thirst to know inspires
With ever-craving, never-fed desires!
Exemption from those pangs which rack the mind,
Springing from foil'd solicitude to reach
What Genius cannot paint, nor Wisdom teach;
Pangs which the fruitless thirst to know inspires
With ever-craving, never-fed desires!
Comparing thus severer with severe,
Arrested by my groan, exhaled my tear!
Yet, yet Creation stands a blank to me,
Her face now cover'd with a sable sea;
Still am I doom'd thro' life's rough paths to stray,
A long, deprived, and desolated way.
Arrested by my groan, exhaled my tear!
Yet, yet Creation stands a blank to me,
Her face now cover'd with a sable sea;
Still am I doom'd thro' life's rough paths to stray,
A long, deprived, and desolated way.
But, to relieve inevitable woes,
To my internal sight auspicious rose
A beauteous pair:—Music, the nymph sublime,
With stores increasing from the morn of Time;
Such melodies as, slowly rising, stole
On Saul's distracted sense with sweet controul,
Till frantic Rage and fell Despair were flown,
And Hope resumed her abdicated throne.
To my internal sight auspicious rose
A beauteous pair:—Music, the nymph sublime,
With stores increasing from the morn of Time;
Such melodies as, slowly rising, stole
On Saul's distracted sense with sweet controul,
Till frantic Rage and fell Despair were flown,
And Hope resumed her abdicated throne.
Thus, Music, it was thine, by high behest,
To charm and tranquillize the stormy breast,
Ere harmony began her mazy rounds,
Blending accordant with discordant sounds,
Till thro' the ear the mingled currents roll,
One sweet, one perfect, one revolving whole;
Its charm with melody and verse combined,
And bade thee, Music, reign o'er every mind.
Rebellious only theirs, who breathe and move,
Palsied to sympathy and dead to love;
Dull as the rank, gross weeds, that feed and sleep,
Where silent Lethe's opiate waters creep.
To charm and tranquillize the stormy breast,
Ere harmony began her mazy rounds,
Blending accordant with discordant sounds,
Till thro' the ear the mingled currents roll,
One sweet, one perfect, one revolving whole;
185
And bade thee, Music, reign o'er every mind.
Rebellious only theirs, who breathe and move,
Palsied to sympathy and dead to love;
Dull as the rank, gross weeds, that feed and sleep,
Where silent Lethe's opiate waters creep.
Nymph of all climes by Nature, and thy code,
By Art invented, thro' the wide abode
Of civilized existence, power obtains
Social to spread th' intelligible strains.
While varying language, in each foreign clime,
Is only known by study and by time,
One are thy symbols, and where'er they come,
At once perceived, escape the Bable doom.
“Sphere-born,” thou com'st from black Despair to save,
And sooth me fall'n into a living grave.
By Art invented, thro' the wide abode
Of civilized existence, power obtains
Social to spread th' intelligible strains.
While varying language, in each foreign clime,
Is only known by study and by time,
One are thy symbols, and where'er they come,
At once perceived, escape the Bable doom.
“Sphere-born,” thou com'st from black Despair to save,
And sooth me fall'n into a living grave.
Another comes, of mission more benign,
In mortal semblance, tho' with soul divine!
And whose the form the gentle Seraph wears,
Scattering her roses o'er this vale of tears?
Example bright to these degenerate times,
Dark with the Ethiop stains of female crimes;
She, whom no levity allures to stray
Near e'en the confines of the faithless way;
Who sooths the wretched and the hungry feeds,
Heaven calls her Mercy, but Earth names her Leeds;
This morning star, this fair, diffusive light,
That sparkles by, and gilds my live-long night.
In mortal semblance, tho' with soul divine!
And whose the form the gentle Seraph wears,
Scattering her roses o'er this vale of tears?
Example bright to these degenerate times,
Dark with the Ethiop stains of female crimes;
She, whom no levity allures to stray
Near e'en the confines of the faithless way;
186
Heaven calls her Mercy, but Earth names her Leeds;
This morning star, this fair, diffusive light,
That sparkles by, and gilds my live-long night.
187
VERSES,
SENT WITH SOME ORNAMENTS FOR THE HAIR TO MISS MARGARET KNOWLES,
ON HER RECOVERY FROM INOCULATION FOR THE SMALL POX, IN HER 17TH YEAR.
WRITTEN IN THE SPRING.
Nymph, for the giver's sake, thy tresses bind
With these slight tokens of her wishes kind,
Mix'd with her praise for having dared disarm
The dread contagion of its power to harm,
Furrow the cheeks, and blast their rising bloom,
Or prove the loathsome escort to the tomb.
Now, blithe as morning larks, thy steps shall stray,
Fearless, tho' beauty's demon cross thy way.
His fell effluvia, when it loads the gale,
Thy rosy breath untainted may inhale,
And waft thy pious gratitude to Heaven,
Who with the bane, the antidote has given.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.
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