Original poems on several subjects In two volumes. By William Stevenson |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
To the Memory of William Shenstone, Esq
|
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
Original poems on several subjects | ||
238
To the Memory of William Shenstone, Esq
Quis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus
Tam chari capitis? ------
Hor.
Tam chari capitis? ------
Hor.
Ye sacred Pow'rs of Harmony! if such
E'er put the sable robe of mourning on;
Now, when no gen'rous eye can weep too much,
Now shed the plaintive tear, for Shenstone's gone.
E'er put the sable robe of mourning on;
Now, when no gen'rous eye can weep too much,
Now shed the plaintive tear, for Shenstone's gone.
Nor fled a kindred spirit to the skies
Lamented more by all the tuneful train!
But him they vain implore, with streaming eyes,
To animate his gentle form again!
Lamented more by all the tuneful train!
But him they vain implore, with streaming eyes,
To animate his gentle form again!
Ah! not for this, Death with officious grasp
Seiz'd the strung lyre that trembled in his hand,
While to his breast his arms tenacious clasp,
And angels round but half-consenting stand!
Seiz'd the strung lyre that trembled in his hand,
While to his breast his arms tenacious clasp,
And angels round but half-consenting stand!
Ah! not for this, the early sudden call,
Some radiant seraph's golden harp to tune,
While humbly he his own on earth let fall,
But ah! Humanity still thinks too soon!
Some radiant seraph's golden harp to tune,
While humbly he his own on earth let fall,
But ah! Humanity still thinks too soon!
239
For Shenstone gone, while Silence muses round,
Hear the sad Genius of each grove bewail!
Villas return the melancholy sound,
And echoes dwell upon the mournful tale!
Hear the sad Genius of each grove bewail!
Villas return the melancholy sound,
And echoes dwell upon the mournful tale!
Sad murmurs waft it down the gurgling brook!
Sad Zephyrs sigh it through the conscious shade!
To Heav'n when he his blissful journey took,
Few pow'rs of song behind their Shenstone staid.
Sad Zephyrs sigh it through the conscious shade!
To Heav'n when he his blissful journey took,
Few pow'rs of song behind their Shenstone staid.
Shenstone! with what inchanting voice he sung!
How smooth, how chaste, how soft, his numbers flow!
How on each note the ravish'd shepherds hung!
How did their hearts dilate! their bosoms glow!
How smooth, how chaste, how soft, his numbers flow!
How on each note the ravish'd shepherds hung!
How did their hearts dilate! their bosoms glow!
For oft he fond deceiv'd the lengthen'd hours,
To copy Nature, made immortal hence—
How delicately Love's all-gentle pow'rs
Touch'd into life his nicely-feeling sense!
To copy Nature, made immortal hence—
How delicately Love's all-gentle pow'rs
Touch'd into life his nicely-feeling sense!
How few, O Nature, happily excel
In thy prime gifts, simplicity and ease?
Thy careless elegance becomes us well,
If we the ear would captivate, or please.
In thy prime gifts, simplicity and ease?
Thy careless elegance becomes us well,
If we the ear would captivate, or please.
240
Say, whence the labour'd strains neglected flow,
Tho' haughty Learning boasts each splendid line?
Hence, would the self-proud critic deign to know,
Beyond thy test, O Nature! we refine.
Tho' haughty Learning boasts each splendid line?
Hence, would the self-proud critic deign to know,
Beyond thy test, O Nature! we refine.
How little Art imparts, when all she gives,
Vainly to rival him by Thee inspir'd,
Let Shenstone tell!—but ah! no Shenstone lives,
Else angels mourn a bard from Heav'n retir'd!
Vainly to rival him by Thee inspir'd,
Let Shenstone tell!—but ah! no Shenstone lives,
Else angels mourn a bard from Heav'n retir'd!
Heav'n claims its bards, a laurel-circled throng,
A few revolving suns to mortals lent;
From Earth, if haply tarrying there too long,
To summon them, Death's on kind message sent.
A few revolving suns to mortals lent;
From Earth, if haply tarrying there too long,
To summon them, Death's on kind message sent.
Thus he, who grew immortal as he sung
The blissful pair in Eden's happy clime;
Rehearses now, with rapture on his tongue,
To gods the wonders of his theme sublime.
The blissful pair in Eden's happy clime;
Rehearses now, with rapture on his tongue,
To gods the wonders of his theme sublime.
Thus, the remembrance all our grief renews,
While we a Pope or Addison deplore;
Thus mourns in elegiac verse the Muse
Britannia's boast, her Shenstone, now no more!
While we a Pope or Addison deplore;
Thus mourns in elegiac verse the Muse
Britannia's boast, her Shenstone, now no more!
241
But Nature means no triumph o'er her son,
For not unkind she earth of him deprives;
Let then no more our tears officious run,
Shenstone still lives, while she herself survives.
For not unkind she earth of him deprives;
Let then no more our tears officious run,
Shenstone still lives, while she herself survives.
Original poems on several subjects | ||