 | The Poetical Works of John Scott |  |
323
STANZAS
WRITTEN AT MEDHURST IN SUSSEX,
ON THE AUTHOR'S RETURN FROM CHICHESTER, WHERE HE HAD ATTEMPTED IN VAIN TO FIND THE BURIAL-PLACE OF COLLINS.
To view the beauties of my native land,
O'er many a pleasing distant scene I rove;
Now climb the rock, or wander on the strand,
Or trace the rill, or penetrate the grove.
O'er many a pleasing distant scene I rove;
Now climb the rock, or wander on the strand,
Or trace the rill, or penetrate the grove.
From Baia's hills, from Portsea's spreading wave,
To fair Cicestria's lonely walls I stray;
To her fam'd Poet's venerated grave,
Anxious my tribute of respect to pay .
To fair Cicestria's lonely walls I stray;
To her fam'd Poet's venerated grave,
Anxious my tribute of respect to pay .
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O'er the dim pavement of the solemn fane,
'Midst the rude stones that crowd the adjoining space,
The sacred spot I seek, but seek in vain;
In vain I ask—for none can point the place.
'Midst the rude stones that crowd the adjoining space,
The sacred spot I seek, but seek in vain;
In vain I ask—for none can point the place.
What boots the eye whose quick observant glance
Marks every nobler, every fairer form?
What the skill'd ear that sound's sweet charms intrance,
And the fond breast with generous passion warm?
Marks every nobler, every fairer form?
What the skill'd ear that sound's sweet charms intrance,
And the fond breast with generous passion warm?
What boots the power each image to pourtray,
The power with force each feeling to express?
How vain the hope that thro' Life's little day,
The soul with thought of future fame can bless?
The power with force each feeling to express?
How vain the hope that thro' Life's little day,
The soul with thought of future fame can bless?
While Folly frequent boasts the insculptur'd tomb,
By Flattery's pen inscrib'd with purchas'd praise;
While Rustic Labour's undistinguish'd doom
Fond Friendship's hand records in humble phrase;
By Flattery's pen inscrib'd with purchas'd praise;
While Rustic Labour's undistinguish'd doom
Fond Friendship's hand records in humble phrase;
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Of Genius oft and Learning worse the lot;
For them no care, to them no honour shown :
Alive neglected, and when dead forgot,
Even Collins slumbers in a grave unknown.
For them no care, to them no honour shown :
Alive neglected, and when dead forgot,
Even Collins slumbers in a grave unknown.
Flow, Lavant, flow! along thy sedgy shore
Bear the fraught vessel from the neighbouring main!
Enrich thy sons!—but on thy banks no more
May lofty Poet breathe his tuneful strain!
Bear the fraught vessel from the neighbouring main!
Enrich thy sons!—but on thy banks no more
May lofty Poet breathe his tuneful strain!
This censure may seem too general—perhaps it is so. But must it not be allowed that the Public is capricious in bestowing its honours? Does not Westminster Abbey show monuments erected to men, as poets, who had little or no title to the name, while it contains no memorials of writers of far superior merit?
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