Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Hail, lovely nymph! upon whose dimpled cheek
Sits ever-smiling Candor! thee I wooe
At morn, at eve, and in my mid-day song,
To bless my social walk.—Thou art the sun,
Its light, its lustre to the moral world
Dispensing: darkness broods, and sullen gloom
Spreads her black pall o'er every scene of joy,
Where thy soft eyes with-hold the genial smile.

List to thy suitor, nymph; extend thine hand,
White as the swan's soft down, to lead me home,
That I may dwell, for ever dwell with thee;
And hold familiar converse with thy sire

Good Sense, alert and vigorous old man:
And with thy sister Pity oft retire
Into the lonely grove, to drop the tear,
To vent the sigh humane!—For thou, sweet nymph,
Perfection's queen, Good Nature,—thou wast born
Of Tenderness, the woodland fair, whom erst
Strong Sense, thy sire robust, in greenwood shade,
Fast by a brook, which babbles thro' the dell,
By russet fern surrounded; whom he met,
As wearied from the chace, he sought the stream
To slake his thirst, and graceful bore his bow
Unstrung upon his shoulder:—There he met,
He saw, he lov'd, and to his fond embrace
Woo'd her, and won; and cropt the precious rose
Of her virginity: while Hymen's torch
Blaz'd with a double splendor: thou, sweet nymph,
Wast the lov'd produce of their first young bliss;
Good Nature, sprung from Tenderness, the bride,
And manly Sense, the jolly, happy groom!

Thee, thee, I woo, sweet nymph, at morn, at eve,
At noon, at mid-day; for thy tender heart,
Studious to kindle Satisfaction's glow
In each rose-tinctur'd cheek, disdains to wound,
With slightest pain, the humblest; thou wouldst wipe
The tear from ev'ry eye; and even the worm
Beneath thy feet, compassionate, wouldst save
From the least pang of corporal sufferance!
Yet, to the stoic apathy estrang'd,
Thou canst, with steady courage, probe to th' quick
The wound thou mean'st to cure; thou canst reprove
With all the sweet persuasion of esteem:
And give a momentary pang, to free

The worthy mind from its ignoble chain.
Tho' on the swiftest wings of panting love
Thou wouldst fly forth to work a brother's weal,
Thoughtless of toil;—yet art thou never led
An easy captive, with compliance mean,
At the soft lure of every syren song,
Which trills delusive: thou art of thy steps
No less observant, than of thy compeers,
Slow chosen, long approv'd; and firm can'st stand
The noisy dash of ignorant Vice's waves.
Not so that counterfeit, who oft assumes
Thy name respectful, giglet, light, and base,
Daughter of Folly; whose unmeaning front
Wears the soft simper of perpetual smiles!
Unballasted by virtue, and seduc'd
Ever to follow the gay painted barge,
That with obstreperous tumult spreads its sails,
Its silken sails, as pleasure's gales shall blow
Upon Simplicity's most perilous main:
Improvident of danger; and of chart,
Of compass, and of anchor, madly void!

No, gentle nymph, thy solid, soberer joys,
Approv'd while felt, and pleasing on review,
Thy joys, of soft benignity, I'd taste;
Thy joys,—which give its dignity, its worth
To this life,—painful boon, when discontent
Inverts the prospect-glass, and all things kens
Enlarg'd in foul Malignity's thick mist.
Then, soft Good-Nature, shed, oh shed thy light;
Deign, Nymph, thy vivifying smile; may all
Before my sight be beautified by thee!
Whether in solitude's meandring shades,

Amidst the upland copse, or by the side
Of sedgy-fringed brook, along the mead
Bedeck'd with flowers, I stray; thou, thou, fair nymph,
Illume the prospect, thou the upland copse,
And thou the sedgy-fringed brook, or mead,
Bedeck'd with flowrets, give me to behold
With placid smiles, and approbation's warmth.

When by my Charmer's side, my bride, my love,
List'ning I drink the music of her tongue,
Oh still and e'er be present; give me eyes
To trace her every amiable perfection;
To magnify her graces; and to draw
The veil of fond affection,—fond, not blind—
O'er her minuter foibles, whence alas!
Mortality, most refin'd, shall ne'er be free!

And as in love, so teach me to converse
In friendship's social intercourse; oh teach
Each action to behold in fairest light:
Best motives to assign: to palliate faults:
Exculpate, where I may: and from the worst
Extract, and hold to view the worthy part:
While for the best, the generous, and the good,
With joy exalted, I stand up, and say,
“Behold his virtues; mark, and imitate.”
—But never may the curse of envy's guilt
Lead me to pry out littleness and faults,
Where merit claims my praise: and basely cause
Even in a nut-shell to comprise the worth,
While half the world will scarce suffice to hold
The thousand faults, which my quick-sighted pride
Discerns in him I envy.—Hence the thought;
Touch with the lenient balm of thy soft love,

Good-Nature, gentle Nymph, the heart morose,
The self-tormenting heart, where thoughts, like these,
Corrosive gnaw!—Or if, my social friends,
With whom, regretful, late I intermix'd
The parting palm,—if hap'ly hearts like these
Be found amidst the bevy of bright nymphs,
Or swains assiduous on fair Margate's shore,
Ah, let us to Good-Nature strait prefer
A common prayer; that either she would tear
The black empoison'd drop forth from their breasts:
Or wash off every tinge, defiling tinge
Of foul Malevolence, in old Ocean's waves,
The common purifier of human ills.

So shall a general candor dwell serene
On every brow; and each, with generous toil,
Shall labour to diffuse the heart-felt bliss
Of sweet benevolence: so a dawn of Heaven
Shall beam upon the mind, where saints feel joy
Consummate; ever lov'd, because in love
They ever live harmonious; ever blest,
For blessing is the business of their lives!

Oh! while on Margate's sea-worn coast you tread,
And court the rosy nymph, Hygeia blest,
To your embraces, in the briny waves:—
May soft Good-Nature, on each social scheme
Attend concomitant: whether you tread
With jocund feet to Draper's , or Nash-court :
Or, with profound amaze, from Light-house , view
The vast domain of Neptune, and admire

His azure waves, fring'd with the silver foam;
Whether on sober palfry, or in coach
Drawn by Margatian steeds, much toil'd, ill fed,
You visit, or fam'd Ramsgate's rising pier,
Slow work of public cost: or the vast cliffs
And scenes romantic of fair Dover view;
Whence late, so late, we saw with cheerful eye,
The chalky face of Gallia's hostile coast,
Nor felt a terror (sons of dauntless prowess)
So near us tho' the foe;—where late we stood
Mere pigmies on the strand; and strain'd our sight
To reach the top of that cloud-vested cliff,
Meet emblem of his genius , high who towers
Above his brother bards, as that white rock,
Firm-rooted as his fame, rears o'er the rest
Its fearful nodding summit!—or if at home,
In all the elegance of dress, you tread,
And give a lustre to the sprightly rooms,
Where beams young Love in many a fair one's eye;
Where-e'er you pass; ah! may the smiling nymph
Diffuse her joys emollient; she can gild
The gloomiest scenes; and, perfect chemist she,
Whate'er she touches turns to purest gold.

Then farewell, oh my friends! and, ye white cliffs,
Beneath whose towering height so oft I walk'd
On the smooth level sand; while all my soul
Was wrapt into astonishment and praise
At thy tremendous works, Maker omnipotent!
Then farewell, oh my friends! but thou, lov'd nymph,
Good-Nature, sprung from Tenderness and Sense,

I bid not thee farewell; no; till the hour
When the Great Master summons me to leave
Terrestrial peace and harmony, for peace
And harmony, perennial, in the realms
Of bliss unutterable; thee will I woo!
Oh, still attend me thro' the walk of life,
Smile on my brow, and triumph in my heart.—
So shall I rest me on the down of peace;
So shall my weeping friends, when the last sigh
Declares departed life, smiting their breasts
Say—“Lov'd he liv'd, and loving:—peace to his shade,
“Embalm him, Memory, and receive him, Heaven!”

Goddess of health.

Places of usual resort near Margate.

Shakespeare.