Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock Together with an Essay on the Education of the Blind. To Which is Prefixed A New Account of the Life and Writings of the Author |
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HORACE, ODE I. IMITATED. |
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 | Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock |  |
HORACE, ODE I. IMITATED.
INSCRIBED TO Dr. JOHN STEVENSON, Physician in Edinburgh.
O thou, whose goodness unconfin'd
Extends its wish to human kind;
By whose indulgence I aspire
To strike the sweet Horatian lyre:
Extends its wish to human kind;
By whose indulgence I aspire
To strike the sweet Horatian lyre:
There are who, on th' Olympic plain,
Delight the chariot's speed to rein;
Involv'd in glorious dust to roll;
To turn with glowing wheel the goal;
Who by repeated trophies rise,
And share with Gods their pomp and skies.
This man, if changeful crowds admire,
Fermented ev'n to mad desire,
Their fool or villain to elate
To all the honours of the state;
That, if his granary secures
Whate'er th' autumnal sun matures,
Pleas'd his paternal field to plow,
Remote from each ambitious view;
Vast India's wealth would bribe in vain,
To launch the bark, and cut the main.
Delight the chariot's speed to rein;
Involv'd in glorious dust to roll;
To turn with glowing wheel the goal;
2
And share with Gods their pomp and skies.
This man, if changeful crowds admire,
Fermented ev'n to mad desire,
Their fool or villain to elate
To all the honours of the state;
That, if his granary secures
Whate'er th' autumnal sun matures,
Pleas'd his paternal field to plow,
Remote from each ambitious view;
Vast India's wealth would bribe in vain,
To launch the bark, and cut the main.
The merchant, while the western breeze
Ferments to rage th' Icarian seas,
Urg'd by th' impending hand of fate,
Extols to heav'n his country-seat;
Its sweet retirement, fearless ease,
The fields, the air, the streams, the trees;
Yet fits the shatter'd bark again,
Resolv'd to brave the tumid main,
Resolv'd all hazards to endure,
Nor shun a plague, but, to be poor.
Ferments to rage th' Icarian seas,
Urg'd by th' impending hand of fate,
Extols to heav'n his country-seat;
Its sweet retirement, fearless ease,
The fields, the air, the streams, the trees;
Yet fits the shatter'd bark again,
Resolv'd to brave the tumid main,
Resolv'd all hazards to endure,
Nor shun a plague, but, to be poor.
One with the free, the gen'rous bowl,
Absorbs his cares, and warms his soul:
Now wrapt in ease, supinely laid
Beneath the myrtle's am'rous shade;
Now where some sacred fountain flows,
Whose cadence soft invites repose;
While half the sultry summer's day
On silent pinions steals away.
Absorbs his cares, and warms his soul:
Now wrapt in ease, supinely laid
Beneath the myrtle's am'rous shade;
Now where some sacred fountain flows,
Whose cadence soft invites repose;
3
On silent pinions steals away.
Some bosoms boast a nobler flame,
In fields of death to toil for fame,
In war's grim front to tempt their fate;
Curst war! which brides and mothers hate:
As in each kindling hero's sight
Already glows the promis'd fight;
Their hearts with more than transport bound,
While drums and trumpets mix their sound.
In fields of death to toil for fame,
In war's grim front to tempt their fate;
Curst war! which brides and mothers hate:
As in each kindling hero's sight
Already glows the promis'd fight;
Their hearts with more than transport bound,
While drums and trumpets mix their sound.
Unmindful of his tender wife,
And ev'ry home-felt bliss of life,
The huntsman, in th' unshelter'd plains,
Heav'n's whole inclemency sustains;
Now scales the steepy mountain's side,
Now tempts the torrent's headlong tide;
Whether his faithful hounds in view,
With speed some timid prey pursue;
Or some fell monster of the wood
At once his hopes and snares elude.
And ev'ry home-felt bliss of life,
The huntsman, in th' unshelter'd plains,
Heav'n's whole inclemency sustains;
Now scales the steepy mountain's side,
Now tempts the torrent's headlong tide;
Whether his faithful hounds in view,
With speed some timid prey pursue;
Or some fell monster of the wood
At once his hopes and snares elude.
Good to bestow, like Heav'n, is thine,
Concurring in one great design;
To cool the fever's burning rage,
To knit the feeble nerves of age;
To bid young health, with pleasure crown'd,
In rosy lustre smile around.
Concurring in one great design;
To cool the fever's burning rage,
To knit the feeble nerves of age;
To bid young health, with pleasure crown'd,
In rosy lustre smile around.
4
My humbler function shall I name;
My sole delight, my highest aim?
Inspir'd thro' breezy shades to stray,
Where choral nymphs and graces play;
Above th' unthinking herd to soar,
Who sink forgot, and are no more;
To snatch from fate an honest fame,
Is all I hope, and all I claim.
If to my vows Euterpe deign
The Doric reed's mellifluent strain,
Nor Polyhymnia, darling muse!
To tune the Lesbian harp refuse.
But, if You rank me with the choir,
Who touch, with happy hand, the lyre;
Exulting to the starry frame,
Sustain'd by all the wings of fame,
With bays adorn'd I then shall soar,
Obscure, depress'd, and scorn'd no more;
While Envy, vainly merit's foe,
With sable wings shall flag below;
And, doom'd to breathe a grosser air,
To reach my glorious height despair.
My sole delight, my highest aim?
Inspir'd thro' breezy shades to stray,
Where choral nymphs and graces play;
Above th' unthinking herd to soar,
Who sink forgot, and are no more;
To snatch from fate an honest fame,
Is all I hope, and all I claim.
If to my vows Euterpe deign
The Doric reed's mellifluent strain,
Nor Polyhymnia, darling muse!
To tune the Lesbian harp refuse.
But, if You rank me with the choir,
Who touch, with happy hand, the lyre;
Exulting to the starry frame,
Sustain'd by all the wings of fame,
With bays adorn'd I then shall soar,
Obscure, depress'd, and scorn'd no more;
While Envy, vainly merit's foe,
With sable wings shall flag below;
And, doom'd to breathe a grosser air,
To reach my glorious height despair.
| Poems by the Late Reverend Dr. Thomas Blacklock | |