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The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour

collated with the ms. volume of his poems, and containing several pieces hitherto unpublished; with illustrative notes, and an account of the life of the author. By James Paterson

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HORACE, BOOK II., ODE IV., IMITATED.
  
  
  
  
  
  
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HORACE, BOOK II., ODE IV., IMITATED.

TO THE EARL MARSHAL OF SCOTLAND.
“Ne sit ancillæ tibi amor pudori.”

I.

A vow, my noble friend, thy kind desires,
If Phillis' gentle form thy breast inspires,
Nor glory, nor can reason disapprove;
What tho' unknown her humble name,
Unchronicled in records old,
Or tale by flatt'ring poets told:
She to her beauties owes her noblest fame,
Her noblest honours to thy love.

II.

Know Cupid scorns the trophied shield,
Vain triumph of some guilty field,
Where dragons hiss and lions roar,
Blazon'd with argent and with or,
His heraldry is hearts for hearts,
He stamps himself o'er all, and dignifies his darts.

III.

Smote by a simple village maid,
See noble Petrarch night and day
Pour his soft sorrows thro' the shade;
Nor could the muse his pains allay:
What tho' with hands pontific crown'd,
With all the scarlet senate round;
He saw his brows adorn the living ray,
Tho' sighing virgins tried each winning art,
To cure the gentle poet's love-sick heart:
Cupid more pow'rful than them all,
Resolv'd his tuneful captive to enthral,

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Subdued him with a shepherdess's look;
He wreathes his verdant honours round her crook,
And taught Vall Clusa's smiling groves,
To wear the sable liveries of his loves.

IV.

But this example scarce can move thy mind,
The gentle power with verse was ever join'd:
Then hear, my Lord, a dreadful tale,
Not known in fair Arcadia's peaceful vale,
Nor in the Academic grove,
Where mild philosophy might dwell with love;
But poring o'er the mystic page,
Of old Stagira's wond'rous sage,
In the dark cave of syllogistic doubt,
Where neither muse, nor beauty's queen,
Nor wand'ring grace was ever seen.
Love found his destined victim out,
And put the rude militia all to rout:
For whilst poor Abelard, ah! soon decreed
Love's richest sacrifice to bleed,
Unwitting drew the argumental thread,
A finer net the son of Venus spread:
Involving in his ample category,
With all his musty schoolmen round,
Th' unhappy youth, alike renown'd
In philosophic and in amorous story.

V.

Inflexible and stern the Czar,
Amidst the iron sons of war,
With dangers and distress encompass'd round,
In his large bosom deep receiv'd the wound.
No Venus she, surrounded by the Loves,
Nor drawn by cooing harness'd doves;
'Twas the caprice love to yoke,
Two daring souls, unharness'd and unbroke.
When now the many-laurell'd Swede,
The field of death his noblest triumph fled,
And forc'd by fate, but unsubdued of soul,
To the fell victor left the—conquest of the pole.

VI.

Henry, a monarch to thy heart,
In action brave, in council wise,
Felt in his breast the fatal dart,
Shot from two snowy breasts, and two fair lovely eyes;
Tho' Gallia wept, tho' Sully frown'd,
Tho' raged the impious league around,
The little urchin entrance found,

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And to his haughty purpose forc'd to yield
The virtuous conqueror of Coutra's field.

VII.

Who knows but some four-tail'd Bashaw
May hail thee, Peer, his son-in-law,
Some bright Sultana, Asia's pride,
Was grandame to the beauteous bride:
For sure a girl so sweet, so kind,
Such a sincere and lovely mind,
Where each exalted virtue shines,
Could never spring from vulgar loins.
No, no some chief of great Arsaces' line,
Has form'd her lineaments divine;
Who Rome's imperial fasces broke,
And spurn'd the nation's galling yoke,
Tho' now, oh! sad reverse of fate,
The former lustre of her royal state,
She sees injurious Time deface,
And weeps the ravish'd sceptres of her race.

VIII.

Her melting eye and slender waste,
Fair tap'ring from the swelling breast,
All nature's charms, all nature's pride,
Whate'er they show, whate'er they hide,
I owe.—But swear by bright Apollo,
Whose priest I am, nought, nought can follow;
Suspect not thou a poet's praise,
Unhurt I hear, uninjur'd gaze:
Alas! such badinage but ill would suit
A married man, and forty years to boot.
 

The Jacobite, forfeited Earl.