The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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THE VISION. |
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 | The Shamrock |  |
THE VISION.
Inscribed to Mrs. S---.
Some few to please, though ardent my Desire,
With trembling Hand, I touch the sounding Lyre.
O Muse! what honour'd Name canst thou rehearse,
Thy Fame to shield, and patronize thy Verse?
Fearful, and yet ambitious, in her Choice,
To you, Maria, she directs her Voice:
Praise is the Song; and aptly, sure, address'd,
To one, who gives, and who deserves it best.
May this your kind, indulgent Smiles obtain;
'Twill bless my Numbers, and reward my Pain;
And, though, in Strictness, Justice can't commend,
Yet, in the Poet, punish not the Friend.
With trembling Hand, I touch the sounding Lyre.
O Muse! what honour'd Name canst thou rehearse,
Thy Fame to shield, and patronize thy Verse?
Fearful, and yet ambitious, in her Choice,
To you, Maria, she directs her Voice:
Praise is the Song; and aptly, sure, address'd,
To one, who gives, and who deserves it best.
May this your kind, indulgent Smiles obtain;
'Twill bless my Numbers, and reward my Pain;
113
Yet, in the Poet, punish not the Friend.
The Herald Lark had just prepar'd to sing
Glad Salutation to the welcome Spring;
And Somnus, drowsy God, o'er Half the World,
The downy Fumes of sweet Repose had hurl'd;
Attendant Morpheus guards the lonely Bower,
Where, wrapp'd in Silence, dwells the sleepy Power;
And, hovering round, his faithful Envoys wait,
Prompt to disclose the mystic Will of Fate:
When, casting off all anxious Cares, my Mind
To needful Ease her Faculties resign'd;
Peace lock'd me in her Arms; and mimic Thought
This visionary Scene distinctly wrought.
Glad Salutation to the welcome Spring;
And Somnus, drowsy God, o'er Half the World,
The downy Fumes of sweet Repose had hurl'd;
Attendant Morpheus guards the lonely Bower,
Where, wrapp'd in Silence, dwells the sleepy Power;
And, hovering round, his faithful Envoys wait,
Prompt to disclose the mystic Will of Fate:
When, casting off all anxious Cares, my Mind
To needful Ease her Faculties resign'd;
Peace lock'd me in her Arms; and mimic Thought
This visionary Scene distinctly wrought.
To distant Realms, where, copious, every Field,
And every Tree their Fruits, spontaneous, yield,
And Flocks, and Herds, safe from the murderous Knife,
Crop the green Herb 'till Nature sickles Life,
Pleas'd Fancy lead; while, through the enliven'd Spray,
The Birds in Concert made all Nature gay:
Here, journeying on, encircled with Delight,
Far East, a Mountain rose, obscure to Sight;
But, near approach'd, rob'd in celestial Sheen,
Parnassus' classic Marks are plainly seen;
Fame, on the Top, her dubious Form display'd,
And to her Sons loud Proclamation made,
Strictly commanding that, without Delay,
To streaming Helicon all speed their Way;
For there they'd, in harmonious Congress, find
The Nine propitious, and Apollo kind.
Selected from the Throng appear'd a Youth,
By Merit influenc'd in Support of Truth;
For though sometimes applausive Strains he sung,
Deceit, or Flattery ne'er defil'd his Tongue;
A blushing Diffidence, at first, suppress'd
His faultering Speech, and labour'd in his Breast;
But Phœbus soon, attentive to his Care,
Dispell'd his Fears; and thus he form'd his Prayer.
And every Tree their Fruits, spontaneous, yield,
And Flocks, and Herds, safe from the murderous Knife,
Crop the green Herb 'till Nature sickles Life,
Pleas'd Fancy lead; while, through the enliven'd Spray,
The Birds in Concert made all Nature gay:
Here, journeying on, encircled with Delight,
Far East, a Mountain rose, obscure to Sight;
But, near approach'd, rob'd in celestial Sheen,
Parnassus' classic Marks are plainly seen;
Fame, on the Top, her dubious Form display'd,
And to her Sons loud Proclamation made,
Strictly commanding that, without Delay,
To streaming Helicon all speed their Way;
For there they'd, in harmonious Congress, find
The Nine propitious, and Apollo kind.
Selected from the Throng appear'd a Youth,
By Merit influenc'd in Support of Truth;
114
Deceit, or Flattery ne'er defil'd his Tongue;
A blushing Diffidence, at first, suppress'd
His faultering Speech, and labour'd in his Breast;
But Phœbus soon, attentive to his Care,
Dispell'd his Fears; and thus he form'd his Prayer.
Father of Verse! and you, ye tuneful Choir!
Assist my Numbers, and my Song inspire!
Yet not, presuming, do I ask my Name
To shine conspicuous in the Rolls of Fame:
Let but your Aid my humble Verses bring
To meet Proportion with the Dame I sing,
And, if Perfection can the Lay secure,
'Till Time's last Sand be run this must endure.
Assist my Numbers, and my Song inspire!
Yet not, presuming, do I ask my Name
To shine conspicuous in the Rolls of Fame:
Let but your Aid my humble Verses bring
To meet Proportion with the Dame I sing,
And, if Perfection can the Lay secure,
'Till Time's last Sand be run this must endure.
Train'd in the Sunshine of parental Love,
By Pallas honour'd, and approv'd by Jove,
She, not on Toys like Half the Sex employ'd,
Lays all their flirting idle Airs aside;
And, not the Dupe of Fashion, strives to steer
Between the Extremes of trifling and severe,
Yet, due Respect she not to Rank denies;
While Moderation all her Wants supplies.
Social by Nature, yet not fond to roam,
Her Soul prefers the better Part at Home;
And studies with calm Influence to preside,
Sweet Peace her Aim—Her just, and only Pride,
To form her Offspring, as a Parent should,
Gentle, discreet, benevolent, and good,
To solid Glory; and their Minds to improve,
To rise, illustrious in their Country's Love;
Not, Slaves to Chance, on foreign Whims to rate,
Tools, and Train-bearers to another's State,
But be themselves the Masters of their Fate.
Here, yield the Palm, proud Rome! all must allow,
Thy fam'd Cornelia we have rival'd now.
By Pallas honour'd, and approv'd by Jove,
She, not on Toys like Half the Sex employ'd,
Lays all their flirting idle Airs aside;
And, not the Dupe of Fashion, strives to steer
Between the Extremes of trifling and severe,
Yet, due Respect she not to Rank denies;
While Moderation all her Wants supplies.
Social by Nature, yet not fond to roam,
Her Soul prefers the better Part at Home;
And studies with calm Influence to preside,
Sweet Peace her Aim—Her just, and only Pride,
To form her Offspring, as a Parent should,
Gentle, discreet, benevolent, and good,
To solid Glory; and their Minds to improve,
To rise, illustrious in their Country's Love;
Not, Slaves to Chance, on foreign Whims to rate,
Tools, and Train-bearers to another's State,
But be themselves the Masters of their Fate.
115
Thy fam'd Cornelia we have rival'd now.
If e'er, by powerful Precedent betray'd,
In Folly's flowery Paths her Fancy stray'd—
In human Bosoms, human Passions reign,
And they 're the wisest who can best restrain;—
Not less her Merit, then; for soon the Maid
Heard Wisdom's Voice, and chearfully obey'd.
Now, by Reflection, and Experience taught
The Force of Habit, and right Use of Thought,
From settled Principle, despising Art,
She guides the Motions of her tutor'd Heart,
And, as the Turns of Place, and Seasons fall,
Adapts her Manners, and she charms in all:
With Age, respectful; prudent, with the Wise;
Yet, still, consistent, and without Disguise;
Mild, with the gentle; with the Sprightly, gay;
And, with the Cautious, as reserv'd as they;
Even Rage, and Tumult, Trial too severe,
Skill'd to appease, or with good Sense to bear.
With brilliant Fancy grac'd, her Reason shines;
This Penetration gives, and that refines;
While native Eloquence informs her Tongue,
Smooth as her Beauty, as her Virtue strong;
With Sentiment and Truth it sweetly flows,
And the fit Emblem of her Conduct shews;
Though free, correct; though lively, never vain,
Piercing, though candid; elegant, though plain.
In Folly's flowery Paths her Fancy stray'd—
In human Bosoms, human Passions reign,
And they 're the wisest who can best restrain;—
Not less her Merit, then; for soon the Maid
Heard Wisdom's Voice, and chearfully obey'd.
Now, by Reflection, and Experience taught
The Force of Habit, and right Use of Thought,
From settled Principle, despising Art,
She guides the Motions of her tutor'd Heart,
And, as the Turns of Place, and Seasons fall,
Adapts her Manners, and she charms in all:
With Age, respectful; prudent, with the Wise;
Yet, still, consistent, and without Disguise;
Mild, with the gentle; with the Sprightly, gay;
And, with the Cautious, as reserv'd as they;
Even Rage, and Tumult, Trial too severe,
Skill'd to appease, or with good Sense to bear.
With brilliant Fancy grac'd, her Reason shines;
This Penetration gives, and that refines;
While native Eloquence informs her Tongue,
Smooth as her Beauty, as her Virtue strong;
With Sentiment and Truth it sweetly flows,
And the fit Emblem of her Conduct shews;
Though free, correct; though lively, never vain,
Piercing, though candid; elegant, though plain.
In her we prove the generous, open Friend,
Fearless to blame, yet studious to commend;
Whose firm Attachments, not the Frowns of Fate,
Nor Fortune's Smiles, can e'er obliterate;
Whose Eye no Pomp or Splendor can divert;
And whose Esteem still waits upon Desert.
Conscious of Merit, not of Merit proud,
Judiciously she shuns the worthless Crowd;
Yet, with Compassion, not to Scandal prone,
Sees others' Errors, and corrects her own:
Envy herself allows her, for she must,
Humane, in Censure; in Resentment, just.
Endu'd with Spirit, and possess'd of Taste,
Too great to spare, too sensible to waste,
Whate'er of Lustre, Wealth, to others gives,
Bestow'd on her, it adds not, but receives:
Riches, in her Enjoyments, bear no Part,
Which, active, flows not from a feeling Heart,
Where reigns Benevolence without Parade,
In all she does so amiably display'd,
That Goodness seems enamour'd of her Aid:
Seeking the Griev'd, and mingling with their Tears,
Her tender Sympathy their Anguish chears;
With liberal Hand she succours the Distress'd;
And is most happy making others bless'd.
Fearless to blame, yet studious to commend;
Whose firm Attachments, not the Frowns of Fate,
Nor Fortune's Smiles, can e'er obliterate;
116
And whose Esteem still waits upon Desert.
Conscious of Merit, not of Merit proud,
Judiciously she shuns the worthless Crowd;
Yet, with Compassion, not to Scandal prone,
Sees others' Errors, and corrects her own:
Envy herself allows her, for she must,
Humane, in Censure; in Resentment, just.
Endu'd with Spirit, and possess'd of Taste,
Too great to spare, too sensible to waste,
Whate'er of Lustre, Wealth, to others gives,
Bestow'd on her, it adds not, but receives:
Riches, in her Enjoyments, bear no Part,
Which, active, flows not from a feeling Heart,
Where reigns Benevolence without Parade,
In all she does so amiably display'd,
That Goodness seems enamour'd of her Aid:
Seeking the Griev'd, and mingling with their Tears,
Her tender Sympathy their Anguish chears;
With liberal Hand she succours the Distress'd;
And is most happy making others bless'd.
Nor, fondly partial to yourselves, refuse,
Ye Fair, due Reverence to the faithful Muse,
Who, though to one she consecrate the Lay,
A pleasing Moral would to all convey;
And wishes all, even as her Theme, to shine,
In Charms resistless, shall I say divine?
From this bright Model your Perfections raise;
For know, to imitate, is sometimes Praise:
By her Example study and improve;
And, with Desert, assure yourselves of Love.
The Maid, who, with incessant Ardor, reads
Wild legendary Tales of brainsick Deeds,
Atchiev'd in airy Regions of Romance;
And such, as flimsy, modern Dreams entrance;
Or, she, who would her Sex's Fame restore,
By tumbling musty Tomes of Science o'er,
With her, may, justly, Ignorance despise,
And be, at once, both amiable, and wise.
If beauteous, learn, from her, not to be vain;
Nor, yet, invidious, if you are but plain;
And that, essential Bliss would you receive,
The Soul must, rather than the Body, give:
External Charms a transient Homage claim;
To love sincerely, we must first esteem.
Ye Fair, due Reverence to the faithful Muse,
Who, though to one she consecrate the Lay,
A pleasing Moral would to all convey;
And wishes all, even as her Theme, to shine,
In Charms resistless, shall I say divine?
From this bright Model your Perfections raise;
For know, to imitate, is sometimes Praise:
By her Example study and improve;
And, with Desert, assure yourselves of Love.
The Maid, who, with incessant Ardor, reads
Wild legendary Tales of brainsick Deeds,
117
And such, as flimsy, modern Dreams entrance;
Or, she, who would her Sex's Fame restore,
By tumbling musty Tomes of Science o'er,
With her, may, justly, Ignorance despise,
And be, at once, both amiable, and wise.
If beauteous, learn, from her, not to be vain;
Nor, yet, invidious, if you are but plain;
And that, essential Bliss would you receive,
The Soul must, rather than the Body, give:
External Charms a transient Homage claim;
To love sincerely, we must first esteem.
O! learn, sweet Sex; for Men are prone to change;
Fond of new Objects, and at large to range;
From Fair to Fair, insidiously, they run,
To all devoted, but attach'd to none;
And, as their queasy Appetites direct,
The Lore of Honour reverence, or reject;
'Till one, like her, more lovely than the Rest,
In the dear Luxury of Merit dress'd,
Fixes the Choice, with that unerring Dart,
Which, in the Judgement, captivates the Heart.
The vagrant Bee so skims it o'er the Plain,
Sips every Flower, then quits with cold Disdain;
But, in his Rambles, if the Rose he meets,
He dwells upon the Magazine of Sweets.
Fond of new Objects, and at large to range;
From Fair to Fair, insidiously, they run,
To all devoted, but attach'd to none;
And, as their queasy Appetites direct,
The Lore of Honour reverence, or reject;
'Till one, like her, more lovely than the Rest,
In the dear Luxury of Merit dress'd,
Fixes the Choice, with that unerring Dart,
Which, in the Judgement, captivates the Heart.
The vagrant Bee so skims it o'er the Plain,
Sips every Flower, then quits with cold Disdain;
But, in his Rambles, if the Rose he meets,
He dwells upon the Magazine of Sweets.
This, no licentious Rhapsody of Words,
Nor Fancy's Coinage, which my Verse affords;
From Observation's nice, impartial Laws,
Fair Nature dictates what my Pencil draws—
O Gratitude! thou loveliest, and the best,
Of all the Virtues which adorn the Breast;
For where thou dwell'st, there center all the Rest;
Thou favourite Child of Heaven! who canst dispense
Delights above the vulgar Joys of Sense,
Home-felt Delights, which Knavery, and Art,
Can ne'er enjoy, nor ever can impart,
Thy sacred Laurels plant around her Head;
Strike Envy dumb; and crush foul Slander dead.
Lo! crowding Wretches, Wretches, now, no more,
Age, Sickness, Poverty, reliev'd by her,
Men, Women, Children, launch her Praises forth,
Pour down glad Blessings, and attest her Worth:
To this, the glowing Muse her Voice confines;
To this, she dedicates these heart-felt Lines.
Nor Fancy's Coinage, which my Verse affords;
From Observation's nice, impartial Laws,
Fair Nature dictates what my Pencil draws—
O Gratitude! thou loveliest, and the best,
Of all the Virtues which adorn the Breast;
For where thou dwell'st, there center all the Rest;
118
Delights above the vulgar Joys of Sense,
Home-felt Delights, which Knavery, and Art,
Can ne'er enjoy, nor ever can impart,
Thy sacred Laurels plant around her Head;
Strike Envy dumb; and crush foul Slander dead.
Lo! crowding Wretches, Wretches, now, no more,
Age, Sickness, Poverty, reliev'd by her,
Men, Women, Children, launch her Praises forth,
Pour down glad Blessings, and attest her Worth:
To this, the glowing Muse her Voice confines;
To this, she dedicates these heart-felt Lines.
And, yet, her Person, well, she might admire;
For, there, the Graces, emulous, conspire,
And all the Loves are visibly combin'd,
To render that accomplish'd as her Mind:
In each bright Feature, Innocence is seen;
Fase guides her Steps, and dignifies her Mien;
Troops of young Decencies around her move,
And every Charm distinguish, and improve:
Through her fine Form diffus'd, a thousand Ways,
The Soul of Beauty, sweet Expression, plays;
Varying in every Movement, ambush'd lies;
Smiles on her Lips, and triumphs in her Eyes:
The opening Rose breathes on her Cheek—But, here,
Modest Decorum checks my fond Career;
Free to Reproof the Muse unfolds her Breast,
And, in submissive Silence, veils the Rest.
For, there, the Graces, emulous, conspire,
And all the Loves are visibly combin'd,
To render that accomplish'd as her Mind:
In each bright Feature, Innocence is seen;
Fase guides her Steps, and dignifies her Mien;
Troops of young Decencies around her move,
And every Charm distinguish, and improve:
Through her fine Form diffus'd, a thousand Ways,
The Soul of Beauty, sweet Expression, plays;
Varying in every Movement, ambush'd lies;
Smiles on her Lips, and triumphs in her Eyes:
The opening Rose breathes on her Cheek—But, here,
Modest Decorum checks my fond Career;
Free to Reproof the Muse unfolds her Breast,
And, in submissive Silence, veils the Rest.
He bow'd—Loud Fame her silver Trumpet blew,
And own'd the Likeness, though far short, of You.
Rous'd with the Sound, I woke; and, pleas'd, beheld
The Morn, rejoicing, o'er the World reveal'd.
And own'd the Likeness, though far short, of You.
Rous'd with the Sound, I woke; and, pleas'd, beheld
The Morn, rejoicing, o'er the World reveal'd.
| The Shamrock | |