Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric by the Revd. H. Boyd ... containing the following dramatic poems: The Helots, a tragedy, The Temple of Vesta, The Rivals, The Royal Message. Prize Poems, &c. &c |
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| ELEGIES. |
 | Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric |  |
559
ELEGIES.
561
TO THE REV. JOHN SMYTH, ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG FRIEND, 1779.
Tho' Heaven with sacred sorrow wounds thy heart;
Tho' bleeding Friendship claims the falling tear,
While, new to woe, her agonizing smart,
Seems to thy tender feelings too severe.
Tho' bleeding Friendship claims the falling tear,
While, new to woe, her agonizing smart,
Seems to thy tender feelings too severe.
Yet learn, fond youth! with reverential awe,
The secret steps of Providence to scan:
Learn by what mystic ways she deigns to draw
To opening bliss, her wayward creature, man.
The secret steps of Providence to scan:
Learn by what mystic ways she deigns to draw
To opening bliss, her wayward creature, man.
She sow'd the genuine virtues in thy breast,
Nor was the copious seed bestow'd in vain,
The generous crop the hand of culture blest,
And Alma's care matur'd the golden grain.
Nor was the copious seed bestow'd in vain,
The generous crop the hand of culture blest,
And Alma's care matur'd the golden grain.
562
Soon learn'd thy breast with others joy to glow,
Nor sick'ning Envy damp'd the rising flame;
For others too it felt the shaft of woe,
And own'd, with more than words, the wretches claim.
Nor sick'ning Envy damp'd the rising flame;
For others too it felt the shaft of woe,
And own'd, with more than words, the wretches claim.
Heaven sent a friend—Heaven saw thy op'ning worth,
Reflecting full, a stronger tint receive,
His fires responsive call'd thy ardours forth,
And meeting hearts a mutual impulse gave.
Reflecting full, a stronger tint receive,
His fires responsive call'd thy ardours forth,
And meeting hearts a mutual impulse gave.
Thy feelings soon the strong attraction knew,
Soon learn'd, with his, to shift their changeful air,
In social joy, they took a livelier hue,
Or mimick'd sad the sober tint of Care.
Soon learn'd, with his, to shift their changeful air,
In social joy, they took a livelier hue,
Or mimick'd sad the sober tint of Care.
Thro' Learning's mazy course, with him, you ran,
Travers'd, with him, “her studious cloisters pale,”
When now the smiling boy, chastis'd by man,
His friendship felt with nobler ardour swell.
Travers'd, with him, “her studious cloisters pale,”
When now the smiling boy, chastis'd by man,
His friendship felt with nobler ardour swell.
Heaven mark'd the hour—and bade thy friend depart,
Ere yet the world had dimm'd his chearful eye;
With him she claims thy sympathizing heart,
And bids thy kindling soul affect the sky.
Ere yet the world had dimm'd his chearful eye;
With him she claims thy sympathizing heart,
And bids thy kindling soul affect the sky.
With what regret thine angel-friend beholds,
Thine humble sorrows, grovelling on the earth,
And blames afar, the sullen orb, that rolls
So tardy on, to bring thy second birth.
Thine humble sorrows, grovelling on the earth,
And blames afar, the sullen orb, that rolls
So tardy on, to bring thy second birth.
563
Then weep no more, nor grieve his sainted breast,
With wayward grief, and earthly cares profane;
Let no fond sighs disturb his sacred rest,
Nor cares for thee his holy raptures stain.
With wayward grief, and earthly cares profane;
Let no fond sighs disturb his sacred rest,
Nor cares for thee his holy raptures stain.
Nor dream how immature his virtues fell,
Unripen'd, crude, beneath the spoiler's hand;
Ere yet the generous fruit had learn'd to swell,
By suns matur'd, by genial breezes fann'd.
Unripen'd, crude, beneath the spoiler's hand;
Ere yet the generous fruit had learn'd to swell,
By suns matur'd, by genial breezes fann'd.
See yon fair tree, beneath November's flaw,
How low it lies, from yonder bank uptorne,
Its stem no more the genial juice shall draw,
Nor May's sweet blossoms deck its boughs forlorn.
How low it lies, from yonder bank uptorne,
Its stem no more the genial juice shall draw,
Nor May's sweet blossoms deck its boughs forlorn.
Yet, had it stood, the pride of many a spring,
And moonlight fairies danc'd around the shade;
Some hand had dar'd an alien bough to bring,
And to the alliance strange its youth betray'd.
And moonlight fairies danc'd around the shade;
Some hand had dar'd an alien bough to bring,
And to the alliance strange its youth betray'd.
Then his degenerate brood, with fruitless tears,
The fire, perhaps, had mourn'd, but mourn'd in vain;
Inglorious then, beneath a weight of years,
Slow had he sunk, the burthen of the plain.
The fire, perhaps, had mourn'd, but mourn'd in vain;
Inglorious then, beneath a weight of years,
Slow had he sunk, the burthen of the plain.
Some fostering hand, perhaps, misled by love,
Had borne it hence, to some less genial soil,
Taught it to scorn its old, paternal grove,
Its planter's tender care, and pious toil.
Had borne it hence, to some less genial soil,
Taught it to scorn its old, paternal grove,
Its planter's tender care, and pious toil.
564
Or all the sad, ill-omen'd birds of night,
Had tamely perch'd his weeping boughs among;
The baleful troop had thither bent their flight,
And claim'd its fruits to pay their boding song.
Had tamely perch'd his weeping boughs among;
The baleful troop had thither bent their flight,
And claim'd its fruits to pay their boding song.
Or, bid to deck some foreign idol's shrine,
Prun'd to fantastic forms, it long had stood;
While tasteless Vandals hail'd the low design,
Or bent, with hands profane, the hallowed wood.
Prun'd to fantastic forms, it long had stood;
While tasteless Vandals hail'd the low design,
Or bent, with hands profane, the hallowed wood.
Then weep no more—His branches wave sublime
To other gales, and shade a richer mould;
While fruits that scorn the tardy lapse of time,
Deck his unfading boughs, with rip'ning gold.
To other gales, and shade a richer mould;
While fruits that scorn the tardy lapse of time,
Deck his unfading boughs, with rip'ning gold.
FINIS.
565
HENRIETTA,
A MONODY, ON THE DEATH OF MISS HENRIETTA FRANCES DIGBY, OF GEASHILL, DAUGHTER OF THE REV. WILLIAM DIGBY, DEAN OF CLONFERT, 1780.
567
What envious hand has twice profan'd my bower,
My myrtle bow'r, with slips of baleful yew,
E'er April's sweets had twice adorn'd the vale,
Or call'd the primrose pale,
To mix her odorous scents with zephyrs new?
Was it for this I left yon mountains blue,
Where harsher seasons rule the bleak domain?
For this, ye nymphs, I heard your gurgling rills,
Invite me down the gentle vale with you,
To taste the softer breezes of the plain.
With you to rove among the sunny hills,
Or indolently laid, remote from view,
To court the woodland muse, with jocund reed,
And never more the sorrowing strain renew?
My myrtle bow'r, with slips of baleful yew,
E'er April's sweets had twice adorn'd the vale,
Or call'd the primrose pale,
To mix her odorous scents with zephyrs new?
Was it for this I left yon mountains blue,
Where harsher seasons rule the bleak domain?
For this, ye nymphs, I heard your gurgling rills,
Invite me down the gentle vale with you,
To taste the softer breezes of the plain.
With you to rove among the sunny hills,
Or indolently laid, remote from view,
To court the woodland muse, with jocund reed,
And never more the sorrowing strain renew?
568
Ah, Henrietta! much I hop'd for thee,
With other notes to wake the woodland choir,
When Time had seen thy full-blown charms entire,
Transplanted hence, to deck another mold,
Had seen thy virtues hold;
Their tenour, bright'ning on for many a year,
But Heav'n forbids the tear;
Heaven saw, perhaps, some dim disaster wait,
Far in the bosom of futurity,
And kindly seal'd the seeming stern decree!
With other notes to wake the woodland choir,
When Time had seen thy full-blown charms entire,
Transplanted hence, to deck another mold,
Had seen thy virtues hold;
Their tenour, bright'ning on for many a year,
But Heav'n forbids the tear;
Heaven saw, perhaps, some dim disaster wait,
Far in the bosom of futurity,
And kindly seal'd the seeming stern decree!
Thine was the blooming wreath of early worth,
And every choicest boon that Heaven bestows;
No dark contagion check'd them in the birth,
Untainted, fair, the vigorous stems arose:
Not such as aged Penitence uprears,
A puny growth, besprent with sickly tears,
When half the vigour of the soul is flown!
Ye parents hear, and mark the warning song,
Time, as he steals along,
And marks the infant mind, with weeds o'ergrown,
Shakes the hoar head, and waves th'impeaching scroll,
Then hurries frowning to th'eternal goal.
And every choicest boon that Heaven bestows;
No dark contagion check'd them in the birth,
Untainted, fair, the vigorous stems arose:
Not such as aged Penitence uprears,
A puny growth, besprent with sickly tears,
When half the vigour of the soul is flown!
Ye parents hear, and mark the warning song,
Time, as he steals along,
And marks the infant mind, with weeds o'ergrown,
Shakes the hoar head, and waves th'impeaching scroll,
Then hurries frowning to th'eternal goal.
Fair soul! it was not half thine early praise,
That every ornamental grace was thine,
The vivid pencil and the chorded shell,
Whatever charms, in these degenerate days,
That unexhausted mine,
Seen only by thy brethren of the skies,
Was hid from common eyes!
Thy soul, was all harmonious as thy lyre,
Thy lyre, attun'd to David's leading strain,
Or Asaph's lute, when full of heavenly fire,
The anthem swell'd beneath his skilful hand,
And halleluias loud, were heard to ring,
Revolving, length'ning thro' the choral band.
That every ornamental grace was thine,
The vivid pencil and the chorded shell,
Whatever charms, in these degenerate days,
569
Seen only by thy brethren of the skies,
Was hid from common eyes!
Thy soul, was all harmonious as thy lyre,
Thy lyre, attun'd to David's leading strain,
Or Asaph's lute, when full of heavenly fire,
The anthem swell'd beneath his skilful hand,
And halleluias loud, were heard to ring,
Revolving, length'ning thro' the choral band.
Warm Faith, and Hope, inspir'd thy angel song,
'Twas Faith that bade thy infant hand explore
The sacred leaves, and trace their sense along;
While on the lap reclin'd of flow'ry May,
Thine equals languish'd out the livelong day,
Or led the dance, or dar'd, devoid of fear,
To weave the amorous snare;
'Twas then, when all enjoy'd the social hour,
The seraph Hope, in saintly stole array'd,
Oft led thee forth, to some sequester'd bow'r,
To talk, with her, of heavenly things unseen,
Where she and angels shar'd the hallow'd shade;
'Twas there, alas! from this sublunar scene,
At the stol'n hour, the sad divorce was made.
'Twas Faith that bade thy infant hand explore
The sacred leaves, and trace their sense along;
While on the lap reclin'd of flow'ry May,
Thine equals languish'd out the livelong day,
Or led the dance, or dar'd, devoid of fear,
To weave the amorous snare;
'Twas then, when all enjoy'd the social hour,
The seraph Hope, in saintly stole array'd,
Oft led thee forth, to some sequester'd bow'r,
To talk, with her, of heavenly things unseen,
Where she and angels shar'd the hallow'd shade;
'Twas there, alas! from this sublunar scene,
At the stol'n hour, the sad divorce was made.
570
Not always thus, in lonely bow'r immur'd,
Meek Charity! thy soul expanding beam,
Found thy sweet pupil lost to human ties,
Reckless of earth, conversing with the skies;
From Want's pale eye, from Pity's melting claim,
And Poverty's imploring call, secur'd;
With ready ear, she heard the orphans pray'r,
With stealthy hand, she dealt the lib'ral boon,
And priz'd the power, to wipe the widows tear,
O'er all the joys that fleet beneath the moon;
O'er all that charms the eye, or sooths the ear.
For what are ye, ye transient gifts of Time,
Compar'd with those that scorn the wasting year,
Gifts from above, immortal as their clime;
When the warm impulse to the soul is given,
That bids her think of Heaven;
When first th'unshackled soul is taught to soar,
And launches from this dull, disastrous shore,
A virgin, tracing out her upward course?—
Ye living precepts! come! my song attest,
That still survive, and warm the grateful breast.
Meek Charity! thy soul expanding beam,
Found thy sweet pupil lost to human ties,
Reckless of earth, conversing with the skies;
From Want's pale eye, from Pity's melting claim,
And Poverty's imploring call, secur'd;
With ready ear, she heard the orphans pray'r,
With stealthy hand, she dealt the lib'ral boon,
And priz'd the power, to wipe the widows tear,
O'er all the joys that fleet beneath the moon;
O'er all that charms the eye, or sooths the ear.
For what are ye, ye transient gifts of Time,
Compar'd with those that scorn the wasting year,
Gifts from above, immortal as their clime;
When the warm impulse to the soul is given,
That bids her think of Heaven;
When first th'unshackled soul is taught to soar,
And launches from this dull, disastrous shore,
A virgin, tracing out her upward course?—
Ye living precepts! come! my song attest,
That still survive, and warm the grateful breast.
For well she lov'd the Pastor's hallow'd trade,
Nor thought it much, to raise with gentle hand,
The lamb, deserted in the thorny glade,
Or on the barren strand,
At random cast, of mother's care forlorn,
Nor Indolence, nor Scorn,
Forbad the nymph, her orphan charge to tend,
To ward the weakly wretch, from nightly spell;
For she had charms to counterwork the guile,
Of dæmon imp, and all the elvish train,
Given by that ancient swain,
Who bade the fisher leave his simple wile,
And learn the mighty shepherd's flock to feed;
What time Tiberias' flood, from shore to shore,
Heard the shrill summons of his vocal reed:
From realm to realm, the thrilling call was heard,
And alien flocks, a mighty train appear'd,
Obsequious, list'ning to his magic lore.
Nor thought it much, to raise with gentle hand,
571
Or on the barren strand,
At random cast, of mother's care forlorn,
Nor Indolence, nor Scorn,
Forbad the nymph, her orphan charge to tend,
To ward the weakly wretch, from nightly spell;
For she had charms to counterwork the guile,
Of dæmon imp, and all the elvish train,
Given by that ancient swain,
Who bade the fisher leave his simple wile,
And learn the mighty shepherd's flock to feed;
What time Tiberias' flood, from shore to shore,
Heard the shrill summons of his vocal reed:
From realm to realm, the thrilling call was heard,
And alien flocks, a mighty train appear'd,
Obsequious, list'ning to his magic lore.
Unusual theme! in these inglorious days,
When the dim cross, that whilom shone so bright,
Scattering the fog of Superstition's night,
So sickly seems to shed her waning light;
And Irreligion, o'er her ancient right,
The leaden sceptre sways!
Yet deem'd ye not your pious labour lost,
Blest pair! when o'er th'expiring saint ye hung,
With all a parents woes, your bosoms wrung,
And saw at once your fondest wishes crost!
Not all the fading charms, by poets sung,
Of ages, long expir'd, the empty boast,
Could match the glories of thy dying bed!—
Tho' Helen's fatal charms, on Asia's coast,
Kindled, of old, the flame of wasting war;
Tho' fierce Zenobia rul'd the rushing car,
And Caria's Queen the line of battle led.
Tho' great Eliza saw th'eternal bar,
Of dashing waves, defend her favour'd strand,
And quench in storms, the flaming wrath of Spain:
Where now are all the mighty deeds they plann'd,
Their names, to more than half the world unknown,
In some old minstrel's song, preserv'd in vain,
Or on some fragment of a mouldering stone,
Not such the portion of the silent train.
Favour'd by him, who fills the sapphire throne,
Who led them onward thro' the vale of pain,
Tho' their hard brethren scarce the wand'rers own.
For them the saints prepare the splendid seat,
Far, far, above the guilty and the great.
When the dim cross, that whilom shone so bright,
Scattering the fog of Superstition's night,
So sickly seems to shed her waning light;
And Irreligion, o'er her ancient right,
The leaden sceptre sways!
Yet deem'd ye not your pious labour lost,
Blest pair! when o'er th'expiring saint ye hung,
572
And saw at once your fondest wishes crost!
Not all the fading charms, by poets sung,
Of ages, long expir'd, the empty boast,
Could match the glories of thy dying bed!—
Tho' Helen's fatal charms, on Asia's coast,
Kindled, of old, the flame of wasting war;
Tho' fierce Zenobia rul'd the rushing car,
And Caria's Queen the line of battle led.
Tho' great Eliza saw th'eternal bar,
Of dashing waves, defend her favour'd strand,
And quench in storms, the flaming wrath of Spain:
Where now are all the mighty deeds they plann'd,
Their names, to more than half the world unknown,
In some old minstrel's song, preserv'd in vain,
Or on some fragment of a mouldering stone,
Not such the portion of the silent train.
Favour'd by him, who fills the sapphire throne,
Who led them onward thro' the vale of pain,
Tho' their hard brethren scarce the wand'rers own.
For them the saints prepare the splendid seat,
Far, far, above the guilty and the great.
More glorious far, to follow such a bier,
And more your triumph, than in ermin'd pride
To see her rais'd on Fortune's fickle sphere,
With Flattery cringing by her chariot's side.
And thou, sweet maid, who feel'st the knot unty'd,
Which once united to thy faithful heart
The lost companion of thy tuneful art,
And mourn'st her fall, as some lone nightingale,
Remote from view, the midnight groves among,
With dying dirge renews her plaintive song,
Tho' yet the recent pang thy heart assail,
Tho' now thou tun'st a solitary string;
Yet know, that still a sympathizing hand
Attunes her virgin harp, to thine above,
Among the choirs of love:
These choirs, whose anthem seem'd a while to stand,
When thro' their bands was heard the summons loud:
“ Go bid the flaming car, thy call obey,
“And half the burning seat, ye seraphs! shroud,
“Dispensing gently round a milder ray,
“When yon fair saint resigns her mortal veil;
“Go gently soothe away her tender fears,
“And waft her up the sky on softest sail.”
The wond'ring saints lean'd forward from their spheres,
To see th'unusual pomp ascend the skies;
And from their thrones, the hero and the seer,
Names which had long ennobled many a clime,
The saint, the chief, the mighty, and the wise,
Exclaim'd “sure some unwonted birth of time,
“Some soul, whose morals warm'd a languid age,
“Some holy pastor comes, from care releast,
“Some gifted bard, or deep reflecting sage;
“Else why in haste, descends the fiery team,
“Like that which bore the saint from Jordan's stream?
“No sage or moralist, “a voice rejoins,
“No pastor late releast, the call obeys,
“No gifted bard his earthly load resigns,
“And claims his wreath of Amaranthine bays!
“A simple maid, unsung by mortal lays.”
“In early youth, the blest assembly joins,
“A fairer soul was ne'er dislodg'd by death,
“Nor sought a purer mind the upward path.
“Heaven on her soul its choicest gifts distill'd,
“And blest with golden fruit the narrow span,
“A few short years, with num'rous virtues fill'd
“The genuine off'rings Heaven expects from man.
“Early recall'd, to shew the thoughtless train,
“Why still 'tis given the ling'rers to remain;
“And what important posts they fill below,
“How short, how insecure, their giddy reign,
“Then why, ye languid triflers, why so slow?
“Haste, seize the golden moments as they fly,
“See! how the fugitives ascend the sky.
“Minute your faults, and chide the fond delay,
“Protracted long by many a faint essay!”—
—Thus sung the youth Ophalia's glades among,
Tuning his ditty to the doleful knell,
Till now approaching near, the funeral throng,
Darken'd the hill, and pour'd adown the dell:
But when the plum'd hearse slowly pac'd along,
His smother'd woe began afresh to swell,
He turn'd him round, and wip'd the falling tear,
Then slowly sad, pursued the passing bier.
And more your triumph, than in ermin'd pride
To see her rais'd on Fortune's fickle sphere,
With Flattery cringing by her chariot's side.
573
Which once united to thy faithful heart
The lost companion of thy tuneful art,
And mourn'st her fall, as some lone nightingale,
Remote from view, the midnight groves among,
With dying dirge renews her plaintive song,
Tho' yet the recent pang thy heart assail,
Tho' now thou tun'st a solitary string;
Yet know, that still a sympathizing hand
Attunes her virgin harp, to thine above,
Among the choirs of love:
These choirs, whose anthem seem'd a while to stand,
When thro' their bands was heard the summons loud:
“ Go bid the flaming car, thy call obey,
“And half the burning seat, ye seraphs! shroud,
“Dispensing gently round a milder ray,
“When yon fair saint resigns her mortal veil;
“Go gently soothe away her tender fears,
“And waft her up the sky on softest sail.”
The wond'ring saints lean'd forward from their spheres,
To see th'unusual pomp ascend the skies;
And from their thrones, the hero and the seer,
Names which had long ennobled many a clime,
The saint, the chief, the mighty, and the wise,
Exclaim'd “sure some unwonted birth of time,
“Some soul, whose morals warm'd a languid age,
574
“Some gifted bard, or deep reflecting sage;
“Else why in haste, descends the fiery team,
“Like that which bore the saint from Jordan's stream?
“No sage or moralist, “a voice rejoins,
“No pastor late releast, the call obeys,
“No gifted bard his earthly load resigns,
“And claims his wreath of Amaranthine bays!
“A simple maid, unsung by mortal lays.”
“In early youth, the blest assembly joins,
“A fairer soul was ne'er dislodg'd by death,
“Nor sought a purer mind the upward path.
“Heaven on her soul its choicest gifts distill'd,
“And blest with golden fruit the narrow span,
“A few short years, with num'rous virtues fill'd
“The genuine off'rings Heaven expects from man.
“Early recall'd, to shew the thoughtless train,
“Why still 'tis given the ling'rers to remain;
“And what important posts they fill below,
“How short, how insecure, their giddy reign,
“Then why, ye languid triflers, why so slow?
“Haste, seize the golden moments as they fly,
“See! how the fugitives ascend the sky.
“Minute your faults, and chide the fond delay,
“Protracted long by many a faint essay!”—
—Thus sung the youth Ophalia's glades among,
Tuning his ditty to the doleful knell,
575
Darken'd the hill, and pour'd adown the dell:
But when the plum'd hearse slowly pac'd along,
His smother'd woe began afresh to swell,
He turn'd him round, and wip'd the falling tear,
Then slowly sad, pursued the passing bier.
FINIS.
The elder Miss Digby had died about a year before;—shortly after the author's acquaintance with the family commenced.
Whatever pecuniary present the young lady received, she either distributed among the poor, or bought religious books, for the instruction of the young and ignorant in the neighbourhood.
Alluding to her care in instructing the younger maid servants (particularly one who had been an orphan) in the principles of religion.
576
ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. THOMAS STEWART,
LATE RECTOR OF HOWTH, AND PREBEND OF ST. PATRICK'S, DUBLIN, 1789.
I.
Ye groves! whose umbrage to the rising sun,Romantic, falling o'er the dewy dell,
And shadowing half way up the hills majestic swell,
I us'd to mark, when Fancy first begun,
To muse with wild, creative eye,
On the rich scenes of earth and sky;
Or view the meek, retiring day,
Stealing in purple tints away;
Or, when the world was hush'd asleep,
And Dian climb'd the cloudless steep,
577
The deep stream's solemn fall to hear.
Oh, Fairy stream, along whose daisied shore,
I first the rising rapture prov'd,
When Milton's epic numbers mov'd
The master chords of young delight,
And brought all Heaven before my sight.
Hark! to yon deep-ton'd bell! those pleasures are no more!
II.
—Ye glades, where oft in evening walk,Methought, I heard the Dryads talk;
Or seem'd to spy, at blush of day,
The blue-stol'd naiads steal away,
Before the sun's intruding eye,
Their fairy gambols could espy.
Ye hills! who lock'd your long embrace,
Round that lov'd, sequester'd place;
At whose majestic, mingled feet,
Where Logri's stream, and Mona's meet,
Stands the venerable dome,
The good Palemon's ancient home;
“How your echoes seem to languish
“Mute, but to the voice of anguish!”
III.
Wizard stream! unknown to song,That thro' old Loughrea's solemn wood,
O'er rude rocks flingst thy foaming flood;
578
Thro' the lovely vale delays.
(Lovely vale! tho' still unsung,
Unless some Doric reed obscure
Piping near thy waters pure,
Calls to dance the sylvan throng.)
Along your hazle borders fair,
How oft you heard the fervent prayer,
And rustic vows, with holy strife,
Ascending for the forfeit life!
IV.
Oh! early fallen! ere half your days were run!Long must I mourn thy unexpected doom;
Did thy full blossoms court the morning sun,
So soon to fall and wither on thy tomb?
Was it for this, so oft you bent your way,
With heaven-born charity, thy lov'd compeer;
And meek Humanity, an hermit gray,
From Want and Pain to wipe the falling tear?—
Heedless of his lofty birth,
Or proud of that sole title given,
To dignify the race of earth,
“The delegate of bounteous Heaven.
Scorning Ambition's wild career,
The noisy bar, the tempting main,
Where Av'rice spreads the sail for gain,
Following the journies of the year.
579
He chose to guide the simple swain,
Thro' the long sequester'd way,
That leads to everlasting day.—
—Long, long I have not seen that daisied shore,
Yet there fond Memory loves at times to dwell;
Haunts of my childhood! half your charms are o'er,
Ye Fairy streams! and haunted woods! farewell!
V.
Her plunder'd nest the stock dove mourns,Her bright'ning day is soon o'ercast;
But soon the tide of Hope returns,
And his instinctive pangs are past.—
Not so, the fond and virtuous pair,
By Wisdom and Religion taught,
Gently to rear the tender thought;
And, (as the mind expands apace,)
With every virtue, every grace,
The tissue of the soul to blend,
And raise the pupil to a friend.
Theirs is the pang—when in the zephyr's breath,
The viewless messenger of death,
While Hope and Joy are smiling round,
Deals the dark insidious wound.
Malignant Fate sits by and smiles,
While yet the florid cheek and sparkling eye,
580
And promises a long arrear of joy.
And hid beneath the placid mien,
The subtle miner lurks unseen.
VI.
Theirs is the pang—but oh! much honour'd pair!Think not your pious, fond, parental care,
Your early joy, your early boast,
Your kind solicitudes are lost!—
—Old Time, a glad return will yield,
To yonder hind that sows the field;
Tho' now, to lawless chance a prey,
He seems to fling his hopes away.
—And shall the nobler toils that form the mind,
Despair a due return to find,
When he that tames th'unconscious clod,
See tenfold gifts by Heaven bestow'd?
No—your generous labours live,
In brighter climes, they yet survive
That power, which ripens earth to ore,
Beneath Potosi's mountains hoar:
That sees the sanguine ruby glow,
In Golconda's gloom below;
And bids a vagrant drop condense,
An Orient pearl, with light intense;
Shall behold thy labours crown'd,
Tho' seeming sunk in night profound.
581
And your living hopes survey.
A long procession bright and gay;
Led by him , who nurst in arms,
All alive to glory's charms,
Fac'd the proud encroaching Gaul:
And now the Senate sees him wield,
Virtue's arms, in Freedom's field;
Remember still his gallant stand,
With that high distinguish'd band,
When Usurpation own'd her fear,
And crouch'd beneath Juverna's spear.
Thus your living hopes recall,
And check the tears incessant fall.
FINIS.
James Stewart, Esq; representative for the county Tyrone.—He made several campaigns in Germany, and behaved with uncommon intrepidity, when only a stripling.
582
TO THE REV. DR. LESLIE,
OF TANDRAGEE, COUNTY DOWN, ON A LATE MELANCHOLY EVENT IN HIS FAMILY, 1792.
Would Heaven that Promethean art were mine,
To bid the languid look revive again;
O could the magic of the muses line,
Lead health meand'ring thro' the seats of pain.
To bid the languid look revive again;
O could the magic of the muses line,
Lead health meand'ring thro' the seats of pain.
Leslie! that mind which feels for others smart,
For many a year had 'scap'd this cruel stroke,
Till Pity's self had wish'd the soul to part,
From Age's leaden gripe, and galling yoke.
For many a year had 'scap'd this cruel stroke,
Till Pity's self had wish'd the soul to part,
From Age's leaden gripe, and galling yoke.
While others skim'd along the vernal road,
Where fleeting pleasure led the hair-brain'd chace;
She trac'd the dark vale to the lone abode,
Where anguish hid her pale, autumnal face.
Where fleeting pleasure led the hair-brain'd chace;
She trac'd the dark vale to the lone abode,
Where anguish hid her pale, autumnal face.
583
Like the sweet bee, that from the dew-bent flower,
Extracts the lymph, that crowns the cup of joy;
From grateful tears she drew her nectar'd store,
Then with her freight complete, she sought the sky.
Extracts the lymph, that crowns the cup of joy;
From grateful tears she drew her nectar'd store,
Then with her freight complete, she sought the sky.
That glorious essence would'st thou wish to find,
Here darkling fixt to mourn at others woe;
Heaven's denizen, to slavish task assign'd,
To bid a purple current ebb and flow?—
Here darkling fixt to mourn at others woe;
Heaven's denizen, to slavish task assign'd,
To bid a purple current ebb and flow?—
Fond Sympathy, indeed, that heart could warm,
The glow of friendship, and domestic joy;
Hope's chearful tinge, on Sorrow's faded form,
Seem'd all Elysium to her glist'ning eye.
The glow of friendship, and domestic joy;
Hope's chearful tinge, on Sorrow's faded form,
Seem'd all Elysium to her glist'ning eye.
The Heavenly tenant of that gentle breast,
Eternal vigour from the task inhal'd;
But, the frail lodging of th'empyreal guest,
Sunk, by the siege of unseen foes assail'd.
Eternal vigour from the task inhal'd;
But, the frail lodging of th'empyreal guest,
Sunk, by the siege of unseen foes assail'd.
Yet, what she was, in some distinguish'd hour,
When meek Benevolence and Joy combin'd;
When thro' each look, with soul-enchanting power,
Beam'd the pure essence of th'æthereal mind.
When meek Benevolence and Joy combin'd;
When thro' each look, with soul-enchanting power,
Beam'd the pure essence of th'æthereal mind.
She now exceeds—Behold her where she moves,
In the full noon of everlasting light!—
Yon radiant crown each heavenly charm improves,
With sapphires beam'd, unsufferably bright!
In the full noon of everlasting light!—
Yon radiant crown each heavenly charm improves,
With sapphires beam'd, unsufferably bright!
584
Yon gems, that sparkle o'er her flowing vest,
Are grateful tears, in heavenly mines congeal'd;
While in the swelling anthems of the blest,
Wond'ring, she hears, her modest worth reveal'd.
Are grateful tears, in heavenly mines congeal'd;
While in the swelling anthems of the blest,
Wond'ring, she hears, her modest worth reveal'd.
Wond'ring, she sees, in that resplendent robe,
Emblazon'd by the pencil of the skies,
Her deeds, while yet she walk'd this nether globe,
Tended by fervent prayers, and glist'ning eyes.
Emblazon'd by the pencil of the skies,
Her deeds, while yet she walk'd this nether globe,
Tended by fervent prayers, and glist'ning eyes.
Thee too, the crown and splendid robe attend,
(If aught the muse beholds, of things above;)
Even now the texture grows, the colours blend,
For other nuptials, midst the choirs of love.
(If aught the muse beholds, of things above;)
Even now the texture grows, the colours blend,
For other nuptials, midst the choirs of love.
The heavenly artist tends thy steps below,
(An unseen form, but by the gifted sight,)
Who, in the tints of Heaven's unfading bow,
Sketches thy virtues, as they rise to light!
(An unseen form, but by the gifted sight,)
Who, in the tints of Heaven's unfading bow,
Sketches thy virtues, as they rise to light!
Swift pursuivants, the pictures waft away,
Where, far above, the glorious texture grows,
Glittering in bright diversities of day,
And heavenly looms thy storied life compose.
Where, far above, the glorious texture grows,
Glittering in bright diversities of day,
And heavenly looms thy storied life compose.
Still grows the texture, may it long extend,
Till thy late progeny thy virtues learn!
Celestial visitant! thy charge attend,
And soothe with whispers bland, his deep concern!
Till thy late progeny thy virtues learn!
Celestial visitant! thy charge attend,
And soothe with whispers bland, his deep concern!
585
Long may his fond, paternal eyes survey,
The sainted mother in the daughter smile;
And may the Author of this grateful lay,
From such a model learn to raise his style.
The sainted mother in the daughter smile;
And may the Author of this grateful lay,
From such a model learn to raise his style.
FINIS.
586
ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR JOHN RAWDON, LATE EARL OF MOIRA,
JUNE, 1793.
No venal bard, with personated pain,
And studied Sympathy's fictitious glow,
Presumes to mingle with the mourning train,
Intrusive on their dignity of woe.
And studied Sympathy's fictitious glow,
Presumes to mingle with the mourning train,
Intrusive on their dignity of woe.
Not many moons have taught the azure tide,
In deeper deluge on our shores to roll,
Since, in that social circle, he enjoy'd
“The feast of Reason, and the flow of soul.”
In deeper deluge on our shores to roll,
Since, in that social circle, he enjoy'd
“The feast of Reason, and the flow of soul.”
That gloomy warning of the sinking mind,
(Which oft forebodes, when heaven-sent ills impend)
With dumb, internal prophecy, divin'd,
(Ere Rumour spoke) the parting of a friend.
(Which oft forebodes, when heaven-sent ills impend)
With dumb, internal prophecy, divin'd,
(Ere Rumour spoke) the parting of a friend.
587
Pensive I sit, and ask the midnight breeze,
How she supports the shock, that sever'd life;
And Fancy still, in mournful vision, sees
Her feelings, and her fortitude at strife.
How she supports the shock, that sever'd life;
And Fancy still, in mournful vision, sees
Her feelings, and her fortitude at strife.
Oh! how with soft Solicitude she strove,
To draw the barbed shaft of length'ned pain;
To smooth his couch, with kind, connubial love,
And gild the gloom of Sorrow's dark domain!
To draw the barbed shaft of length'ned pain;
To smooth his couch, with kind, connubial love,
And gild the gloom of Sorrow's dark domain!
What need for her such deep and poignant woe?
Must she?—but Heaven forbids to scan our fate,
Nor yet allows the various ends to know,
For which she proves us, in this mortal state.
Must she?—but Heaven forbids to scan our fate,
Nor yet allows the various ends to know,
For which she proves us, in this mortal state.
Support her, Heaven! for she that feels for all,
As spirits feel, from earthly dregs refin'd:
How was she startled at the awful call?
How bore the lacerations of the mind?
As spirits feel, from earthly dregs refin'd:
How was she startled at the awful call?
How bore the lacerations of the mind?
Support her, Heaven! for thou alone canst shed
That holy balm, that heals th'internal wound;
And bid th'enlight'ned soul, devoid of dread,
Look o'er the gloomy world's mysterious bound.
That holy balm, that heals th'internal wound;
And bid th'enlight'ned soul, devoid of dread,
Look o'er the gloomy world's mysterious bound.
To those, whose converse most he lov'd below,
The great, the good, the useful, and the wise,
Who here vouchsaf'd a visit to bestow,
Their fated task perform'd, and sought the skies.
The great, the good, the useful, and the wise,
Who here vouchsaf'd a visit to bestow,
Their fated task perform'd, and sought the skies.
588
For not like gaudy insects of an hour,
Who waste in trifles, Time's penurious boon;
He learn'd to manage well the frugal dower,
And liv'd whole ages in a single moon.
Who waste in trifles, Time's penurious boon;
He learn'd to manage well the frugal dower,
And liv'd whole ages in a single moon.
To that fair morn, when first the sun look'd forth,
His mind, pursuing up the maze of time,
Saw social Life, and Science, in their birth,
And mark'd, with studious eye, their march sublime.
His mind, pursuing up the maze of time,
Saw social Life, and Science, in their birth,
And mark'd, with studious eye, their march sublime.
The lamp he lighted, by Experience given,
At those twin stars that glimmer'd o'er the waste;
And, like Prometheus, dealt the boon of Heaven
Around, and show'd the future in the past.
At those twin stars that glimmer'd o'er the waste;
And, like Prometheus, dealt the boon of Heaven
Around, and show'd the future in the past.
From this, he learn'd the dignity of man;
From this, his duties, and his claims he knew;
And, from the study of the mighty plan,
The richest stores of mingled knowledge drew.
From this, his duties, and his claims he knew;
And, from the study of the mighty plan,
The richest stores of mingled knowledge drew.
His polish'd manners spread a social ease,
Round the gay circle of his festal board;
Even in the lap of pain, he strove to please,
Improv'd the subject, or the theme restor'd.
Round the gay circle of his festal board;
Even in the lap of pain, he strove to please,
Improv'd the subject, or the theme restor'd.
He lov'd the muse: his kind, protecting hand,
Cherish'd her labours with parental care:
He strove to plant the arts on Eirin's strand,
And hop'd to see them brave the rigorous air.
Cherish'd her labours with parental care:
589
And hop'd to see them brave the rigorous air.
'Twixt Factious frenzy, and imperial power,
He took, like Publius, his determin'd stand,
With Roman spirit fraught, and Attic lore,
Full in the vaward of the patriot band.
He took, like Publius, his determin'd stand,
With Roman spirit fraught, and Attic lore,
Full in the vaward of the patriot band.
His shield has left its place, in Tamor's hall;
His column strip'd of all its scutcheon'd pride.—
—But Hasting's arms, with his, shall deck the wall,
That crest of eagle plume, to crowns ally'd.
His column strip'd of all its scutcheon'd pride.—
—But Hasting's arms, with his, shall deck the wall,
That crest of eagle plume, to crowns ally'd.
Ah! could thy country claim thee for her own!
Could'st thou descend to low, provincial care!—
But claims imperial, calls of high renown,
And more extensive plans thy bosom share!
Could'st thou descend to low, provincial care!—
But claims imperial, calls of high renown,
And more extensive plans thy bosom share!
Our Senate waits, to give thy virtues room,
Thy sires' and country's friends, thy presence greet;
But thy lov'd England points the wreath to come,
And calls thee hence to fill a nobler seat.
Thy sires' and country's friends, thy presence greet;
But thy lov'd England points the wreath to come,
And calls thee hence to fill a nobler seat.
Fancy, beholds thee in a nobler seat,
Whence thy wide range of vision might divine,
Where best our long, discordant claims should meet;
Like blended colours, in one radiant line.
Whence thy wide range of vision might divine,
Where best our long, discordant claims should meet;
Like blended colours, in one radiant line.
His Lordship's literary acquisitions exhibited an extent and variety which marked a great comprehension and activity of mind, and a memory uncommonly tenacious.
590
SPECIMEN OF THE CAPTIVES,
A ROMANCE,
(READY FOR THE PRESS.)
The exordium gives a short view of the invasion of England by the Danes, in the tenth century, and their defeat by Alfred.
XIII
And now the hurricane was over blown,And to the North retir'd the ruffian blast:
Again the victor climb'd the regal throne,
With Scandinavian spoils superbly grac'd,
And o'er old England's harrast plains, at last,
The dawn of Freedom led the golden day,
While, tir'd of arms, the power of battles cast
His polish'd helm and brigantine away,
And thro' the summer groves, pursu'd the sylvan prey.
591
XIV
With clamorous hounds, to chace the flying doe,The Royal Saxon, on a summer morn,
(While yet the welkin wore a crimson glow)
Awoke the woodland choirs with jocund horn.
And Sol, at last, by flaming coursers borne,
Emerging from the pomp of woods afar,
Began, in umber'd radiance to adorn
The wide, delightful scene, of sylvan war,
From Windsor's purple hills, to Dover's chalky bar.
XV
Following the chace, along the opening vale,Which points its bosom to the passing flood,
They saw a brigantine, with easy sail,
Which up majestic Thames it's course pursu'd,
Borne on the swelling tide: the hunters stood,
And saw the strangers slack the toiling oar,
Awhile, the wond'ring bands each other view'd,
At length the hardy sailors sought the shore,
And in the friendly creek, the wave-worn vessel moor.
XVI
Forth from the Royal retinue, with speed,At Alfred's word, a youthful Baron sprung;
And, as the strangers crost the level mead,
With hasty words addrest the weary throng:
592
Those hostile waters, with forbidden prow;
No more the sons of violence and wrong,
Around our shores in sable squadrons go,
Or dare to ravage here, since Denmark's overthrow!”
XVII
He spoke, and thus the senior of the band,“Say, ere we answer, has our search an end?
We seek the sovereign of this happy land,
And at the awful throne adoring bend?
When first we saw this noble train descend,
Thro' the green forest, to the azure flood,
In glad presage, we deem'd the royal friend
Of Liberty, the sylvan chace pursu'd,
To this delightful shore, along the ecchoing wood.”
XVIII
O gallant youth! confirm this augury,And take the thanks of this o'erlabour'd train!
From Iverdon, beyond the western sea;
We come, the aid of Alfred to obtain,
To rescue from the foe, our lost domain,
Who rages in the centre of our isle;
Where after many battles fought, in vain,
He lords it o'er Juverna's choicest spoil,
While scarce the slender bands support the strenuous toil.”
593
XIX
The wond'ring youth the foreigners survey'd,And gently thus return'd: “Ye guess'd aright!
Come! follow me to yonder welcome shade,
Where yon broad sycamore excludes the light,
For now the burning sun ascends the height
Of Heaven, and yonder halts the royal crew.”
In grateful thanks for this auspicious sight,
They bow to Heaven, and straight their guide pursue,
Where the attendant train the slaughter'd quarry drew.
XX
There sate the Saxon Lord, in royal state,And saw his train prepare the rich repast;
But now, the messenger of Eirin's fate,
By the young Baron led, with fervent haste,
To the green summer hall of Audience prest;
And kneeling low, with supplicating strain,
With pious tears, and ardent prayers, addrest
The warlike Chief, of England's wide domain;
And thus began the guide of Eirin's suppliant train:
XXI
“Father of Freedom! Hear the fervent prayerOf Iverdon, that calls aloud for aid!
While Windsor's woods resound the sylvan war,
And the brown tenants of the summer shade,
Lead on the flying chace, from glade to glade.
594
There Scandinavia's sons in slaughter wade;
While from the breezy hill, and winding dell,
Borne on the sighing gale, the notes of anguish swell.”
XXII
“O leave the flying wolf, and timorous doe,And spend your fury on a nobler game!
The Dane will meet your lance, a daring foe,
And add new glories to your deathless name.
Soon as the winds your mighty march proclaim,
The sacrilegious raven quits her prey,
And, when you lance abroad the bolted flame
Mounts on the winged winds, and sails away,
Like Night's ill omen'd birds, before the shafts of day!”
XXIII
Irresolute the royal warriour stood,While Memory call'd to view, the hated forms
Of burning towns, and fleets, and fields of blood,
And nightly ambuscades, and wild alarms.
His hardy train, tho' terrible in arms,
Yet shudder'd at the sound of Denmark's name;
All who remember'd how the Northern swarms,
On their pale strand, like inundations, came,
And spread along the shore like wide, consuming flame.
595
XXIV
They saw the Saxons doubt, and thus againThe hoary messenger renew'd his plea:
“Think on the moment, when the cruel Dane,
Sagacious of your flight, from sea to sea
Pursu'd your steps, when sacred Athelney,
By many a marsh, and sounding flood secur'd,
The last retreat of parting liberty;
Preserv'd the reliques of the conqu'ring sword,
And in her solemn shades her flying King immur'd.”
XXV
“Who bade the guardian spirit of the night,Wake in her lonely moors the lamping blaze,
That led the Danes, with long, fallacious light,
Far from the path, in many a winding maze,
Where never mortal trode the faithless space;
While the green sward, that felt unusual weight,
With horrid chasm, their flying march betrays;
And all at once, ingulfs the living freight,
While Ivar blam'd their stay, unconscious of their fate.”
XXVI
“He, whose nocturnal flame, and cloud by day,Secur'd thy safety, now thine arm demands!
596
The baffled rage of Scandinavia's bands.
That power, whose mandate mov'd the shifting sands,
And fleets and armies from the port repell'd,
Requires the help of thy victorious hands!
Forbid it, Heaven! the Dane should brave the field,
While Alfred hunts the doe, in summer woods conceal'd!
XXVII
“If pure Religion at thy footstool bends,And seeks thine aid, to hold the foe at bay;
Oh! think thy life was sav'd for nobler ends,
Than with the herd of Kings, to spend in play,
The fleeting hours of Life's uncertain day.
To England's glory, and to Alfred's fame,
Enough was given in many a bloody fray;
Now, let Humanity thy valour claim,
And our insulted Faith thy pious mind inflame!”
XXVIII
Fir'd at the bold address, the courtier crew,Murmur'd, and look'd intolerable scorn;
But the great Regent, to whose mental view,
The gradual chain of events yet unborn;
Rose in clear series, like the dawning morn,
To the sage Envoy thus his answer gave:
“Ierne's unexampled woes I mourn;
And, could my single arm her millions save,
The Scandinavian soon should fill the longing grave!”
597
XXIX
“But well ye know, the general voice must aidThe feeble movements of my bounded sway;
For here no King, in barb'rous pomp array'd,
With arbitrary nod, can raise or lay
Bellona's storm at will: But sage delay,
And public wisdom, strikes a surer wound.
The states assemble with the coming day,
Where fair Augusta shows her hallow'd mound,
Then to the wise Divan your embassy propound.”
XXX
He spoke, with reverence low, the suppliant bandDepart, and soon the brigandine ascend;
The jolly hunters, at their King's command,
To fair Augusta's walls their journey bend;
Behind, in close debate, as friend with friend,
The King with Landin rode, a Neustrian Knight,
In peaceful arts and arms completely train'd,
With whom he us'd to share the social rite,
And on his converse dwelt with ever new delight.
XXXI
For well he knew, with serious themes, or gay,To suit the moment, and the man to please;
And ev'ry land he knew, from Calpes bay,
To where Visurgis meets the northern seas:
598
And ev'ry scene renown'd of modern days,
Were his; and well he knew the mind to seize,
With the resistless charm of artful praise,
On which the sagest mind with ling'ring love delays.
XXXII
And well he knew to ward, with ready thought,Impending peril, or elude the blow;
With stratagems and wiles innumerous fraught,
To baffle or surprize the raging foe.
And well he knew to bid the passions glow,
Or soothe, to sudden calm, the ductile mind;
The royal Saxon seem'd his worth to know,
Often dependant on his arts refin'd,
When perils, mustering round, against his peace combin'd.
XXXIII
Him Alfred lov'd, but cautious still, and just,Resolv'd his favourite's honour to explore,
And find, if public love, or sacred lust
Of sway, his bosom rul'd with sovereign power;
Ere he disclos'd to light the hallow'd store,
Of sapient counsels in his breast conceal'd.—
—Then musing, as they trac'd the level shore;
A crisis fit, the prudent chief beheld,
And thus, with aspect grave, his seeming views reveal'd.
599
XXXIV
“How blest the Ministers of Life and Light,Whose flaming charity can never fail,
For lack of means!—But we, immerst in night,
And doom'd to wander this sublunar vale,
Where, for a day, we fill the lowest scale
Of intellectual life, lament to see,
Passion, and Prejudice, and Fear prevail;
And sordid Self, with interested plea,
Against the struggling soul's seraphic energy.”
XXXV
“Oh! were it mine!—the soul-ennobling spell,With solitary voice to wake the war;
Soon should resounding Fame my trophies tell,
And purple conquests guide my lofty car!
Nor should the haughty Lord of Denmark dare
To waft his levy'd legions o'er the main!—
—But oh! the cruel Fates have plac'd a bar
Before my hopes!—and Law's unfeeling train
Baffles my ardent prayer, and bids me wish in vain!”
XXXVI
“How do I burn to share the bloody fray,And meet with mutual shock my ancient foe;
But Senates interpose, with cold delay,
And dull debates retard the falling blow.
600
Yet do I love, with sudden powers combin'd
To bear destruction on my sounding prow,
And leave the flying march of Fame behind,
Till Lochlin, in her doom, my dread arrival find!”
XXXVII
In thought, the fond believing minion spy'd,In Alfred's sudden wish, his inmost mind;
And, all too credulous his joy to hide,
The secret byas of the King to find:
Like a light skiff that veers with every wind,
Thus sooth'd the purpose of the royal soul:
“Shall narrow laws the heavenly temper bind?
Shall human ties the hero's hand controll,
Fitted to spread his sway from Indus to the Pole?”
XXXVIII
“Oh Alfred! seize at once the golden hour,That bounteous Heaven by Eirin's doom bestows;
England shall build thy formidable power,
A power, so dreadful to her ancient foes!—
The state must raise a barrier, to oppose
The fierce invasion of the cruel Dane;
And, taught on thy firm valour to repose,
Shall yield to thee, and thy victorious train,
The sovereignty, by land, and fasces of the main!”
601
XXXIX
“Levy thy legions! and if deep Surmise,With jealous eye, thy purpose seem to dread;
Point to the tempest in the northern skies,
Threat'ning afar, and gathering to a head.
Tell of Ierne's plains, with slaughter red!
Show how the conflagration rolls along,
Still with a large supply of fuel fed.
Till Britain's sons, and Gallia's martial throng,
Shall scarce repel the tide of Violence and wrong!”
XL
“Like Julius, thus the trembling senate fill,With constant rumours of invasions nigh;
And dark presages in their hearts instill,
From all the quarters of the angry sky.
Let their great edict bid thy banners fly,
And teach the frighted isle thy need to know;
Yet, suffer not thy legions long to lye
In torpid sloth, but bid their ardour glow
On Gaul's unguarded coast, or Scandinavia's snow!”
XLI
“Old England, soon accustom'd to the sight,Their glorious arbiter shall learn to boast,
And view thy armaments, with proud delight,
The guards of Freedom call'd on every coast;
602
In sweet oblivion of insulting war;
Thy skilful hand, unthought, and unopposed,
With master-movement winds the silken snare
Around their torpid limbs, and crowns reward thy care!”
XLII
“Oh! Alfred! then thy strong benevolence,No more by Senates awed, by forms confin'd,
Shall sally round the world, like light'nings glance,
And match the emanations of thy mind!—
—The Regent of the day, in light enshrin'd,
Shall stop awhile her burning wheels, to see
The fasces of his favour'd isle, resign'd
By the immediate hand of Heav'n, to thee,
Whilst Love, and filial Fear, applaud thy victory!”
XLIII
Some moments, lost in thought, the Monarch stood,While Indignation, join'd with generous Shame,
O'er his warm cheek suffus'd the mantling blood,
And shook with sudden throes his manly frame.
At length, he cry, “Oh Wisdom! Heavenly flame!
In love detach'd, from the primæval light,
To guide our feet, and lift the mortal name,
By just gradations, to an angel's height;
How are thy glories sunk in unsubstantial night?”
603
XLIV
“I ask not power, nor love despotic sway,That slippery boon, so much by mortals sought;
Nor, ask I Reason's clear unclouded ray,
Content to share the less invidious lot
Of virtuous lore, by Heaven, in mercy taught
To erring man, his fault'ring steps to guide!
Be Memory! Fancy! Intellect forgot!
All bounteous Heaven! the dangerous talent hide
If thus ev'n Reason falls to ruin, missapply'd!”
XLV
“How oft thy words, like op'ning summer, clear'dThe clouds, that settled on the deep debate!
How oft, assisted by thy skill, I steer'd
Thro' swallowing sands, the vessel of the state!
Thou subtle, mining spirit! seen too late!
O say what spell, in what portentous hour,
Led thee to brave the storm of public hate;
To mar thy vintage in th'unfolding flower,
To taint my honour first, and then abuse my power?”
XLVI
“Unhappy man! with all thy matchless sense,Thou saw'st not how I led thee to thy shame;
And now, what subterfuge? what weak pretence
Canst thou suggest to veil thy blasted fame?
604
Thy name, once glorious! now alas! how lost!
And know, thy injur'd King would rather claim,
In Freedom's band, his delegated post,
Than all the royal pomp of Asia's splendid coast!”
XLVII
“Go! thou ill-fated man! thy merits past,Ward from thy head the well deserved doom!
But from the hostile plains of Albion, haste!
Wherever Fortune leads thy steps to roam
The land of Liberty denies a home
To such as thee!—and may she still deny
Even the asylum of a quiet tomb,
To that foul hand that labours to untye
The hallow'd cords that bind her freeborn family!”
XLVIII
He spoke, and turn'd away:—With guilty shameOpprest, the favourite found his utterance fail;
Nor dar'd an audience of the King to claim,
His guilt to clear; but down the winding vale
His courser turn'd, while shadowy ev'ning pale
Wav'd o'er the purple hills her banner gray:
Meantime, the Monarch, in a flowery dale,
Joining his jolly troop, at close of day,
To fair Augusta's walls conducts the long array.
605
XLIX
Too generous failing of the manly breast?—The children yet unborn shall rue the day,
When Alfred's pitying hand the wretch releast,
And sent him, like a pestilence, away,
Over the unsuspecting world to stray,
At large, in specious Virtue's fair disguise!
Thus the fair mirrour, with fallacious ray,
Allures the sweet lark from the liquid skies,
And brings the warbler down, ah! never more to rise.
L
Landin the courtiers mist, but nought enquir'd,For oft the King, on expedition bent,
When any sudden call the thought inspir'd,
On errands of deep trust his fav'rites sent:
And oft the night, her cloudy curtain lent,
From prying Fame, their stealthy march to hide.
Thoughtful the Monarch seem'd, and all intent
On public cares, as thro' the portal wide,
And down the crowded way he led the living tide.
LI
In revelry and sport, the evening clos'd,Sweet relaxation of their woodland toil!
Then leaden Sleep his soothing spell impos'd
On every sense:—But Alfred, yet awhile,
Smit with the sufferings of the Sainted Isle,
606
The pleasing charm; and by the wasting oil
Of the nocturnal lamp, at large, pursu'd
His salutary schemes of wide-diffusive good.
LII
Then, closing all with prayer, the royal sage,To the primæval cause his vows addrest;
“O thou! whose power on this sublunar stage,
Me, all unfit, with regal honours grac'd;
And, by my hand, the cruel Dane represt;
Accept my thanks, that from a deadlier foe,
Pride, and the lust of power, thy love releast
Thy delegate, commission'd here below,
To bid thy blessings round in equal measure flow!”
LIII
“So may I ever by cælestial sight,From coward Doubt, and wild Ambition clear;
'Twixt the extremes, direct my course aright,
And thro' the dreadful shelves securely steer!
Still may I scorn the selfish call to hear,
When Duty pleads, or Glory points the way:
Or pure Religion, from her radiant sphere
Descends, with Freedom at her side, to pray
Her champion's aid, in arms, to chace the fiend away!”
607
LIV
The Monarch thus his aspirations breath'd,While, kept at distance by the solemn prayer,
The power of Slumber stood; then softly wreath'd
Around the regal brow, with gentle care,
The poppy crown, and many a vision fair,
Of op'ning glory, sooth'd the godlike breast:
There first, the fluctuating pomp of war,
The fairy scene in countless horrours drest,
Then golden days come on, and images of rest.
LV
But not compos'd by images of rest,The Gallic fugitive, by Conscience driv'n,
To Edric's stately hall his course addrest,
Beneath the midnight frown of angry Heaven;
Already the reproof, by Alfred giv'n,
Fermented deep, and fir'd his haughty mind,
Nor long his passions kept the balance even;
But soon to dark Revenge the scale enclin'd,
Which soon he thought to sate, with haughty Edric join'd.
LVI
Edric was born of Ina's royal blood,Factious in peace, but nameless in the field.
608
Whose eagle-winged merit oft compell'd
The reverence of immortal hate, and held
Her foes in awe; but haughty Edric thought
His elder line, by policy expell'd
From England's throne, and each occasion sought,
By clamour, force, or fraud, to cross the royal vote.
LVII
Astonish'd to behold his look of care,The malecontent receiv'd his midnight guest,
Who told how Alfred, with the morning star,
Meant to convene the Saxon Thanes in haste,
To treat of Eirin's call, by war opprest:
And in ambiguous phrase he seem'd to tell
Some foul concealment lab'ring in his breast;
Some dark design conceiv'd in lowest hell,
And nourish'd by the King, his subjects rights to quell.
LVIII
And Friendship seem'd with Honour to contend,Whether the secret to conceal, or show;
Yet seem'd his keen, expressive look to lend
A dark, malignant light, that led to know
The secret meaning of his smother'd woe.
And flash'd conviction on the kindling mind
Of Ina's heir, who saw a deadly blow,
Or thought he saw, at Liberty design'd,
And many an image foul of latent fraud combin'd.
609
LIX
Again the Lord of Day illum'd the pole,And all the godlike energies of mind;
And all the tyrants of the human soul,
Envy, and Love, and Hope, and Fear, combin'd;
And Intellect, and Fancy, unconfin'd,
Touch'd into being by the heavenly ray,
Rush'd into life, like the imprison'd wind:
And first Juverna's sons prevent the day,
And to the solemn dome pursue their dubious way.
LX
The valves unfold; the Senatorial band,With din confus'd, the solemn passage throng,
And range in order due, on either hand,
Around the throne, with Danish trophies hung.
But soon, by acclamations loud and long,
The coming father of the state was told:
“Father of Freedom! Hail!” from every tongue
Was heard, and myriads crowded to behold
Their King, as down the lines the long procession roll'd.
LXI
Arriv'd, he sate, and soon the mournful soundOf Supplication in the hall was heard;
And soon Juverna's train, with awe profound,
Before the assembled Potentates appear'd;
And told their tale, in deep distress preferr'd;
610
Abroad, with rising hope alternate chear'd,
And fear deprest, while long in close debate,
Britannia's mighty Thanes, with godlike Alfred sate.
LXII
“Fellows in arms,” the placid Monarch said,“Ye hear Ierne's call, her fervent plea;
Her hamlets and her folds in ruin laid,
And desolation spread from sea to sea.
There Odin's sons, elate with victory,
Follow the banners of the ruthless God.
And shall we bear their horrid blasphemy,
That the great founder of our faith, o'eraw'd,
Suffers the savage foe to waste his fair abode?”
LXIII
“To us, who saw reveal'd, his thund'ring armAnd all the pageants of his power display'd
Strong is the solemn call! the loud alarm
That leads us hence, the falling cross to aid!
Nor shall the arduous business be delay'd
By me, nor will I plead my years decline;
Soon shall the wish of England be obey'd,
Whether, in arms, our western friends to join,
Or to some younger Chief, the glorious post resign.”
611
LXIV
First Redowald, in prudent counsels old,Arose, of large and comprehensive mind;
But his tame spirit sunk, by caution cool'd,
And artful schemes, and politics refin'd;
On that sad morning, ere the battles join'd
On Wilton's Moor, his too sagacious care,
Dishearten'd England, while the Dane, combin'd
With bold Mervinia's legions, rush'd to war,
And Mercia lost the day, and fled the field afar.
LXV
“Is there no charm in peace, or peaceful toils,That thus in search of ill we roam the flood,
And wing our way to the surrounding isles,
Like vultures, following far the scent of blood?
For evermore pursuing or pursu'd?—
—The gods, my friends! a floating barrier drew
Around our shores, and built a bulwark rude,
Of cilffs embattled high, in dreadful view,
From England, to repell the bold invasive crew.”
LXVI
“This awful theatre, by nature made,The circle of our glory seems to bound;
612
This little respite seize, in peace profound,
And glad repose, to heal our ancient wound;
Nor dare to tempt the Scandian arms again,
Nor think the trump of fame will cease to sound
Britannia's martial deeds, by land and main,
The triumphs of our King, and Denmark's broken chain.”
LXVII
“O rather let us hear, with ev'ry moon,The noise of battle ring around our coast,
Young Eldred cry'd “Than soil our trophies won,
With torpid sloth, and leave our gallant host
To linger out their lives, to glory lost;
And, in the tempest of the nations, sleep!
Till Denmark, and Norwegia, unopposed,
With their Milesian allies, cross the deep,
The long expected meed of many an age to reap!”
LXVIII
“Should Freedom's call, and warm Compassion fail,With Piety combin'd, your souls to bend;
Yet, let the voice of policy prevail,
Your idle legions, o'er the sea to send,
And, with the sons of Iverdon, defend
The common bounds, 'gainst the common foe.
In vain, alas! with Sitric you contend,
In vain your navies meet with tilting prow,
If sad Ierne sinks beneath the menac'd blow.
613
LXIX
“In vain, old Ocean guards your threat'ned land,With all her chosen terrours frowning round;
In vain your native valour dyes the strand
With Danish blood, returning wound for wound.
If Eirin's breezy hills, and dale's profound,
And flowery lawns, with lowing herds replete,
And mountains blue, with piny chaplets crown'd
Old Denmarks powers renew, and freight her fleet,
While her embosom'd bays afford a safe retreat!”
LXX
“I see, from all her ports, the sable swarmInsult our frontiers, and our fleet repell.
I see her hundred mouths emit the storm,
Like Hecla's Hill, or flaming Mongibel,
Then re-admit them, like the gorge of hell,
When English valour threats the baleful brood!
Till rallying from the long-retreating dell,
Or gloomy grove, with spirit unsubdu'd,
Their legions launch again, and hide the western flood.”
LXXI
“To arms, to arms,” the gallant Esmond cry'd,“And tear from Dania that distinguish'd prize,
614
Or on our walls her sable standard flies.
To us, old Iverdon, for aid applies,
Her homage, our protection best will pay;
Let Hermon's son, by old experience wise,
To England's care, resign the rescu'd prey,
England, accustom'd long to hold the Dane at bay.”
LXXII
“And, who the bloody purchase ought to share,With honourable toil, by England bought?
Who guards the common bulwark of the war,
But she, that saves Milesius' ancient lot,
Free to her sons?”—The whole assembly caught,
With kindling rapture, thunder'd loud applause,
Till Ardulph rose, and audience calm besought;
Ardulph, the friend of man, and Freedom's cause,
Whose steady wisdom still maintain'd her sacred laws.
LXXIII
“Ignoble thought! unworthy Albion's race!—For the poor title to an harrast shore,
To sell our proud alliance, and deface
That blazonry of fame, our fathers wore!
If warlike Hengist, thus, in days of yore,
His mercenary aid, to England sold,
No heavenly precept tam'd her lust of power,
615
No law of sympathy, his proud ambition cool'd!”
LXXIV
“Shall she, like ruffians, on the desart strand,When angry Neptune scales the bending skies,
Forbid the toiling mariner to land,
Heedless of prayers, and agonizing cries,
Unless he gives away the golden prize,
The last, sad relique of his naval hoard?—
O let us yet revere the sacred ties,
That fasten man to man, with firm accord,
Nor cause of obloquy to Alfred's name afford.”
LXXV
He spoke, in murmurs low, the list'ning crowd,Their dubious praise, and mingled censure spoke;
But Edric next, his gloomy aspect show'd,
A soul of sullen fire, that scorn'd the yoke
Of regal sway, nor 'vail'd his lofty look,
To Kesar, or to King, whoever frown'd:
From Landin, late, a dark surmise he took,
Of some foul pest, from Eirin's vales profound,
That aim'd the lofty stem of Liberty to wound.
616
LXXVI
He rose, and in his look defiance flamed,And jealousy, matur'd to lasting hate;
And thus, aloud, the malecontent exclaim'd:
“Ye gallant Thanes! that love Britannia's state,
I see the closure of this deep debate,
Pregnant with ills! I see the fabric fair,
Of Liberty, beneath the whelming weight
Of foreign trophies lost, and needless war,
While ages toil in vain, her ruins to repair!”
LXXVII
“Pardon! thou generous friend to England's weal,Whose strenuous arm, with more than mortal might,
Was seen to check the adamantine wheel,
Turn'd by the daughters of eternal night,
That spun our purple doom! our lowly plight
To laurel'd triumphs, and convivial joys
Thy prowess turn'd! But now a sudden blight,
Sent from the awful Regent of the skies,
Sickens our summer blooms, and all the year destroys.”
LXXVIII
“As some pale warriour, when the fever's fire,With scenes of battle fills the madding brain,
617
To reap the harvest of the bloody plain,
And try the tumult of the field again:
Dreaming his strength return'd, while fell disease
New threds his nerves, and boils in every vain;
Thus, the fair visions of fallacious peace,
Tempts us our arms to try beyond the western seas!”
LXXIX
“Can we forget the foe, whose labour tillsThe Mercian vallies, and the Sunward Mound,
Who colonize along the sable hills
Of Cumberland, and Cheviot's utmost bound,
And Deira's plains to Neptune's stormy sound?—
Half these are Danes, and like the brooding storm,
Wait but the heavenly sign, to spread around
Tumult, and disarray, and loud alarm,
Tho' now they seem withheld by Alfred's dreaded arm.”
LXXX
“I see the living rancour of their eye,(Tho' now beneath the yoke they seem to bend)
Like the red promise of the evening sky,
The tempest of the coming day portend.—
Go now—to Eirin's woods your victims send,
Where ruin lurks in deadly ambush near.
Soon yonder clouds, that on your hills impend,
618
Shall deluge all the plain, and mar the mellow year.”
LXXXI
“Ev'n tho' the terrour of the sanguine scourge,Should hold in awe the oft-defeated foe,
While England's heroes o'er the sable surge,
To green Ierne point the lofty prow;
Yet Conquest calls alike, and Overthrow,
For numerous legions still, and new supplies;
Low droops proud Victory, with faded brow,
And moulted plume, beneath yon weeping skies,
If our too cautious hands the levied aid denies.”
LXXXII
“But, verst in plunder, and the waste of war,The veteran soon will scorn our peaceful toil;
And, should some young, ambitious Prince, prepare
To forge new fetters for his native isle,
The warlike band, enured to annual spoil,
To ruin'd provinces, and scenes of blood;
And us'd to purchase the imperial smile
By moonlight wars, beyond the western flood,
Round the tyrannic flag, with chearful haste will crowd.”
LXXXIII
“Then sad Ierne to his standard won,Shall fling her legions in the Royal scale,
619
Shall waste away, or o'er the bosom pale
Of Ocean, fleet before the rising gale,
To other worlds, beyond the Western Main;
Or, like an hermit, in Mervinia's vale,
Live with the mountain hind and toiling swain,
Their hamlets to protect against the ruffian train.”
LXXXIV
“Our laurel'd Chief, beneath the setting star,Shall teach the conquer'd clans the trade of blood,
And from Ierne lead the moving war,
To pale Britannia, o'er the toiling flood,
A savage foe! while England, overaw'd,
Falls to her parricides an easy prize,
Our choicest blood and treasures sent abroad,
To yonder climes that front the western skies,
In vengeance shall return, with ever new supplies.”
LXXXV
“Thus shall our vital moisture drain away,By parching suns, in deadly blights return,
Or, in contagious vapours blot the day,
While our pale shores the dark Invasion mourn.—
Rather let Eirin fall!—let Tamor burn!—
Or bid their King resume his glory lost,
And snatch the wreath away, by Dania worn
620
Against the common foe, to rouse the Celtic host.”
LXXXVI
“Perish the thought!” young Adelmar reply'd,“That Gaul should claim the honourable meed,
The doom of conquered Eirin to decide,
And with presumptuous hand their canvass spread,
On our insulted seas! Let Dania bleed!
Bleed England! Eirin! ere an alien power,
From her blue promontories lift his head,
And looks, with lordly frown, the ocean o'er,
On the proud armaments that line our native shore!”
LXXXVII
Alfred arose, his generous heart was pain'dTo find the sland'rous tongue attaint his fame;
He, whose intrepid hand, so long sustain'd
The drooping glories of Britannia's name.
“My friends,” he cry'd, “No more assert the claim
Of England's glory, or religion's aid,
Since cold Suspicion damps the warriours flame,
And candid Virtue, pines in Envy's shade,
Let Denmark, ar her will, our trembling shores invade!”
LXXXVIII
“Say, is your love of freedom more than mine—Ungrateful men!—but let my deeds defend
621
Those brows again, nor shall the Monarch blend
His peaceful hours, with broils that never end,
For transient glory, which the baleful breath
Of pois'nous envy, to the dust can send,
Or low-born jealousy, whose causeless wrath,
Can touch with ranc'rous gall, the most unblemisht faith.”
LXXXIX
“Let the Milesians tell their harrast lord,That England's warlike thanes, with caution wise,
No longer trust their saviour with the sword,
Deaf to the prayers, the supplicating cries,
Of Iverdon! regardless of the ties
Of pure religion, and a common blood!
For me, I here implore the awful skies,
If Alfred e'er forgot the public good,
Be his detested name with obloquy pursu'd!”
XC
“I too have friends! and soon could turn the tideOf clamorous faction, to demand the war,
Or with my solitary voice, decide
The long debate, and for the field declare!
But my consummate glory well can spare
The test, and much I scorn the little art,
To win my people's vote, by means unfair!
622
I love unbounded sway, and scorn to rule a part!”
XCI
“But ye! bold hearts in vain! whose gen'rous voiceIs all for war, who scorn to wait the foe!
In torpid sloth, beneath your native skies;
But pass the barrier, and prevent the blow!
If still your hearts with native ardour glow,
In voluntary bands, to cross the main,
Go! in the name of martial glory! go!
With ardour new, inspire the harrast train,
And with collected strength, repell the raging Dane!”
XCII
He ceast, and sate; a deep, portentous cloud,The sullen brow of Faction overhung;
But now the hour dismist the martial crowd,
And thro' the op'ning valves, the noble throng,
In deep, unsocial silence, pac'd along.
The sad Milesians stood in dumb despair,
With grief, and generous indignation stung,
To find their hopes of new-enkindled war,
And all their prospects gone, like images of air.—
End of the First Canto
623
A band of Saxon Volunteers, under the command of Albert, a Northumbrian, embark for Ireland, to assert the natives against the Danes: They find peace restored, but are detained in Ulster by contrary winds.
Now Calga's walls they gain'd where Nigel's care,
With genial gifts, delay'd the gallant train;
Their navy now, from Curan's eastern bar
Came round, and now the Saxon Lord again
Resolv'd to man his fleet, and tempt the main,
Since unexpected peace had sheath'd his blade.
With hospitable care, the noble Thane,
From day to day, the gallant youth delay'd,
Till Albert's haste, at length, his fervent prayers outweigh'd.
With genial gifts, delay'd the gallant train;
Their navy now, from Curan's eastern bar
Came round, and now the Saxon Lord again
Resolv'd to man his fleet, and tempt the main,
Since unexpected peace had sheath'd his blade.
With hospitable care, the noble Thane,
From day to day, the gallant youth delay'd,
Till Albert's haste, at length, his fervent prayers outweigh'd.
624
But now, as Heaven ordain'd, the wat'ry star,
Which rules the flood, and bids the tempest rise,
Gave the red signal to the windy war,
And the deep ferment stain'd the angry skies.
The fresh gale sunk, and soon the awful voice
Of the Norwegian wind forbid the sail;
Full thirty days it storm'd: The new allies:
In Nigel'a hall, attend the vocal shell,
That now no more was heard of bloody wars to tell.
Which rules the flood, and bids the tempest rise,
Gave the red signal to the windy war,
And the deep ferment stain'd the angry skies.
The fresh gale sunk, and soon the awful voice
Of the Norwegian wind forbid the sail;
Full thirty days it storm'd: The new allies:
In Nigel'a hall, attend the vocal shell,
That now no more was heard of bloody wars to tell.
O vagrant muse! the wond'rous cause unfold,
Which held Juverna's haughty foe at bay;
And the proud wheels of victory controll'd,
When hapless Iverdon at mercy lay,
And seem'd to wait her doom? Upon a day,
As Sitric led along his weary host,
And thro' Ophalia's woods explor'd his way,
Between two hills, with bow'ry shades embost,
His long laborious march a strange adventure crost.
Which held Juverna's haughty foe at bay;
And the proud wheels of victory controll'd,
When hapless Iverdon at mercy lay,
And seem'd to wait her doom? Upon a day,
As Sitric led along his weary host,
And thro' Ophalia's woods explor'd his way,
Between two hills, with bow'ry shades embost,
His long laborious march a strange adventure crost.
Amid the music of the martial fife,
They heard a pausing strain salute the ear,
Along the vale. But soon, in tuneful strife,
And concert full, arose the anthem clear,
Harmonious psalmody, distinct and near!
And soon emerging full, the cause was seen,
An holy brotherhood, contemning fear,
Led by their Lord, a man of awful mien,
Forsook the gloomy shade, and crost the level green.
They heard a pausing strain salute the ear,
Along the vale. But soon, in tuneful strife,
And concert full, arose the anthem clear,
Harmonious psalmody, distinct and near!
And soon emerging full, the cause was seen,
An holy brotherhood, contemning fear,
625
Forsook the gloomy shade, and crost the level green.
But soon, as by an holy impulse driven,
They wheel'd around, the pagan's march to meet;
Like men, who seem'd to wait the will of Heaven,
Wav'ring, the Scandians stood, nor dar'd to threat
The holy train, who soon, with hasty feet
Arrived, and stood in silence, van to van,
While every heart a falt'ring measure beat;
At length, the leader of the holy clan,
Breaking the solemn pause, in accents slow began.
They wheel'd around, the pagan's march to meet;
Like men, who seem'd to wait the will of Heaven,
Wav'ring, the Scandians stood, nor dar'd to threat
The holy train, who soon, with hasty feet
Arrived, and stood in silence, van to van,
While every heart a falt'ring measure beat;
At length, the leader of the holy clan,
Breaking the solemn pause, in accents slow began.
“Paynim! behold th'inviolable Fair,
The baffled fury of her foes disdains,
From her high battlements, with scornful air,
She waves her hand aloft, and mocks thy pains;
Not her thou tyrant, thy bold voice profanes,
But him who made thee; him, whose sov'reign will,
With matchless patience, still, thine arm sustains,
Thy motions governs, and inspires thy skill,
Tho', oft and oft, forewarn'd, a flagrant rebel still.”
The baffled fury of her foes disdains,
From her high battlements, with scornful air,
She waves her hand aloft, and mocks thy pains;
Not her thou tyrant, thy bold voice profanes,
But him who made thee; him, whose sov'reign will,
With matchless patience, still, thine arm sustains,
Thy motions governs, and inspires thy skill,
Tho', oft and oft, forewarn'd, a flagrant rebel still.”
“Like thee, the minions of thy power blaspheme,
And all thy frantic motions idolize;
Thus, after thee, they chant the baleful theme.
“Ye venerable groves; that proudly rise
“Favorites of Heav'n! usurpers of the skies;
“And you, ye pines! that fan the wint'ry air,
“Whose giant height, the stormy north defies,
“Sublimely waving to the windy war!
“Alas! the edge comes down, which never knew to spare!
And all thy frantic motions idolize;
Thus, after thee, they chant the baleful theme.
626
“Favorites of Heav'n! usurpers of the skies;
“And you, ye pines! that fan the wint'ry air,
“Whose giant height, the stormy north defies,
“Sublimely waving to the windy war!
“Alas! the edge comes down, which never knew to spare!
“Where'er my legions sweep the sandy plain,
“Perennial fountains scarce the draught supply,
“The floods forget their journey to the main,
“And sudden leave their gaping channels dry;
“But hark! blasphemer; to thy lords reply!
“Son of perdition! know thy abject birth,
“Rais'd, like a meteor, to the wondering sky,
“Or, like the whirlwinds of thy native north,
“The rampires of my foes, to level with the earth.
“Perennial fountains scarce the draught supply,
“The floods forget their journey to the main,
“And sudden leave their gaping channels dry;
“But hark! blasphemer; to thy lords reply!
“Son of perdition! know thy abject birth,
“Rais'd, like a meteor, to the wondering sky,
“Or, like the whirlwinds of thy native north,
“The rampires of my foes, to level with the earth.
“For this, my light'nings wither'd all their force,
“For this, their nerveless hands resign'd the spear,
‘As when red Sirius leads the sultry hours,
“And fires to tenfold rage the fervid year!
“They pin'd away, beneath the blast severe,
“Like gray grass, waving o'er the ruin'd wall,
“But now my bridle checks thy mad career;
“Stand! harken! and obey thy sovereign's call,
“Or the horizon round shall tremble at thy fall.”
“For this, their nerveless hands resign'd the spear,
‘As when red Sirius leads the sultry hours,
“And fires to tenfold rage the fervid year!
“They pin'd away, beneath the blast severe,
“Like gray grass, waving o'er the ruin'd wall,
“But now my bridle checks thy mad career;
“Stand! harken! and obey thy sovereign's call,
“Or the horizon round shall tremble at thy fall.”
627
“Slacken thy march, and dread my injur'd name,
“Thou scourge of angry Heaven! thy task is o'er!
“Juverna's Lord, by long affliction tame,
“Acknowledges the rod, and sins no more.
“Thou wast not call'd to lay the realm in gore,
“To sack his towns, and desolate the plain,
“But, by the timely penance to restore
“The chastis'd rebel to his God again,
“And from the spreading taint, to vindicate his reign.
“Thou scourge of angry Heaven! thy task is o'er!
“Juverna's Lord, by long affliction tame,
“Acknowledges the rod, and sins no more.
“Thou wast not call'd to lay the realm in gore,
“To sack his towns, and desolate the plain,
“But, by the timely penance to restore
“The chastis'd rebel to his God again,
“And from the spreading taint, to vindicate his reign.
“That power, whose nod arrests the rolling wave,
“Who rules the whirlwind, and directs the storm;
“Whose sovereign word the dread permission gave,
“Which rous'd to blood thy far destroying arm,
“Now sends his messenger, with mightier charm,
“To take the temper from thy thirsty spear,
“To bid thee sheath the sword, with slaughter warm,
“And from thy brow thy bloody laurel tear;
“Obey the present God, and stop thy mad career!”
“Who rules the whirlwind, and directs the storm;
“Whose sovereign word the dread permission gave,
“Which rous'd to blood thy far destroying arm,
“Now sends his messenger, with mightier charm,
“To take the temper from thy thirsty spear,
“To bid thee sheath the sword, with slaughter warm,
“And from thy brow thy bloody laurel tear;
“Obey the present God, and stop thy mad career!”
“Dreamer! avaunt!” the haughty Monarch cries,
“Nor tempt the sword that spares thy trembling age.”
“O thou, whose volleying thunder shakes the skies,”
The sage exclaims, “behold the Scandian's rage,
“And bid the heav'nly truth his heart engage:
“Struck by that hand, which caus'd the rock to flow,
“Let thy descending peace his fury suage,
“And teach the haughty rebel to forego
“The blood-stain'd diadem, that binds his haughty brow.”
“Nor tempt the sword that spares thy trembling age.”
“O thou, whose volleying thunder shakes the skies,”
The sage exclaims, “behold the Scandian's rage,
“And bid the heav'nly truth his heart engage:
“Struck by that hand, which caus'd the rock to flow,
“Let thy descending peace his fury suage,
628
“The blood-stain'd diadem, that binds his haughty brow.”
“Look up! fond man, and see the heav'nly sign,
That shews how soon thy glories fleet away!”
Just then, so well the brotherhood divine
Had tim'd their message; o'er the orb of day,
A dim eclipse began its gradual way,
And ominous ev'ning, o'er the prospect clos'd,
In slow solemnity, while deep dismay,
In horror, stole along the Danish host,
As Day's bright chariot hung in total darkness lost.
That shews how soon thy glories fleet away!”
Just then, so well the brotherhood divine
Had tim'd their message; o'er the orb of day,
A dim eclipse began its gradual way,
And ominous ev'ning, o'er the prospect clos'd,
In slow solemnity, while deep dismay,
In horror, stole along the Danish host,
As Day's bright chariot hung in total darkness lost.
The plumy choirs their sprightly carols ceast,
And to th'asylum of the grove withdrew;
And the wild woodland tenants went to rest,
While the bright marshal of the starry crew,
Undazzled by the day, look'd out to view,
The dread defection of the solar light;
And now, the sacred bands began anew,
Their solemn descant, like the bird of night,
That chears the lonely hours, remov'd from mortal sight.
And to th'asylum of the grove withdrew;
And the wild woodland tenants went to rest,
While the bright marshal of the starry crew,
Undazzled by the day, look'd out to view,
The dread defection of the solar light;
And now, the sacred bands began anew,
Their solemn descant, like the bird of night,
That chears the lonely hours, remov'd from mortal sight.
No murmurs thro' the shadowy host was heard,
In holy horrour to the raptur'd strain;
List'ning: At last a dubious glimpse appear'd,
Of Sol, emerging from the dark domain
Of Cynthia's orb, but then, the gladsome train,
Chorus'd the light in Hallelujahs high:
“Thus, thus, shall Faith and Freedom gild again,
The wide horizon round with light and joy,
When Dania's storms overblown, shall leave the light'n'd sky.”
In holy horrour to the raptur'd strain;
List'ning: At last a dubious glimpse appear'd,
Of Sol, emerging from the dark domain
629
Chorus'd the light in Hallelujahs high:
“Thus, thus, shall Faith and Freedom gild again,
The wide horizon round with light and joy,
When Dania's storms overblown, shall leave the light'n'd sky.”
'Twas then, the Pagan van began to melt,
And down their polish'd arms, repentant, flung;
Soon either wing the soft infection felt,
Which run, like lambent flame, the ranks along;
Till all in tears dissolv'd, the martial throng,
As if they meant to wash their stains away,
Around the holy man imploring throng,
And for th'initial rite began to pray,
To purge the taint of sin, which yet infecting lay.
And down their polish'd arms, repentant, flung;
Soon either wing the soft infection felt,
Which run, like lambent flame, the ranks along;
Till all in tears dissolv'd, the martial throng,
As if they meant to wash their stains away,
Around the holy man imploring throng,
And for th'initial rite began to pray,
To purge the taint of sin, which yet infecting lay.
And first, the monarch dofft his shining mail,
And first, the limpid stream obedient sought,
Which stole in murmurs down the shady vale,
Perennial spring! with cooling treasures fraught,
Then all assembling round the sacred spot;
The band, alternate, share the cleaning rite,
Successive, by the holy brethren taught,
Those truths, that broke the gloom of ancient night
And chear'd the darken'd soul with intellectual light.
And first, the limpid stream obedient sought,
Which stole in murmurs down the shady vale,
Perennial spring! with cooling treasures fraught,
Then all assembling round the sacred spot;
The band, alternate, share the cleaning rite,
Successive, by the holy brethren taught,
Those truths, that broke the gloom of ancient night
And chear'd the darken'd soul with intellectual light.
Now Fame, that us'd of bloody broils to tell,
The welcome news, to Eirin's Monarch bore,
What wond'rous chance, the royal Dane befell,
Met by his Saviour in the desart hoar.
And he, profuse so late of human gore,
Seem'd to renounce the desolating trade,
A Christian now! a man of blood no more!
Compell'd to sheath, his far-destroying blade,
By him, whose sovereign word the rising tempest laid.
The welcome news, to Eirin's Monarch bore,
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Met by his Saviour in the desart hoar.
And he, profuse so late of human gore,
Seem'd to renounce the desolating trade,
A Christian now! a man of blood no more!
Compell'd to sheath, his far-destroying blade,
By him, whose sovereign word the rising tempest laid.
Soon more than Rumour told the wond'rous tale,
For now, to Eirin's King, an Envoy came,
From the new convert in the sacred vale,
Whose message stampt the vague report of Fame;
Peace he propos'd, in royal Sitric's name,
And amicable league to Eirin's Lord,
With a fair pledge of peace, the northern Dane;
Sweet Eleanor, by rival Kings ador'd,
But for himself reserv'd the conquests of the sword.
For now, to Eirin's King, an Envoy came,
From the new convert in the sacred vale,
Whose message stampt the vague report of Fame;
Peace he propos'd, in royal Sitric's name,
And amicable league to Eirin's Lord,
With a fair pledge of peace, the northern Dane;
Sweet Eleanor, by rival Kings ador'd,
But for himself reserv'd the conquests of the sword.
Not all the darts of love are tip'd with lead;
Not all to low pursuits the bosom fire;
But oft with generous thoughts, the mind they feed,
And fervent thirst of genuine fame inspire,
Far from the Syren glance, ye youths retire,
Which leads to shame; but when the heav'nly boy,
Fanns, with his purple wings, the proud desire
Of honest fame, the bold adventure try,
And labour to obtain the plaudit of the sky!
Not all to low pursuits the bosom fire;
But oft with generous thoughts, the mind they feed,
And fervent thirst of genuine fame inspire,
631
Which leads to shame; but when the heav'nly boy,
Fanns, with his purple wings, the proud desire
Of honest fame, the bold adventure try,
And labour to obtain the plaudit of the sky!
The one is common to the savage kind,
The lion's fury, and the panther's flame,
The other dignified by love of mind,
A nobler origin is known to claim,
When min'd, by lapse of time, the mundane frame,
And all its perishable scenes decay,
Thou still shalt live, immortal, and the same
In the high noon of everlasting day,
And all the blest above confess thy potent sway.
The lion's fury, and the panther's flame,
The other dignified by love of mind,
A nobler origin is known to claim,
When min'd, by lapse of time, the mundane frame,
And all its perishable scenes decay,
Thou still shalt live, immortal, and the same
In the high noon of everlasting day,
And all the blest above confess thy potent sway.
A youth there was, of Gothmund's warlike train,
Who, not by lucre led, nor thirst of blood,
But love of glory, past the northern main,
And foremost still in front of danger stood,
The first to scale the wall, to pass the flood,
To dare the ambush, or the camp explore;
But when the royal Dane, by Heav'n subdu'd,
Had seem'd to give the trade of slaughter o'er,
His hours he pass'd in peace, on Senu's gentle shore.
Who, not by lucre led, nor thirst of blood,
But love of glory, past the northern main,
And foremost still in front of danger stood,
The first to scale the wall, to pass the flood,
To dare the ambush, or the camp explore;
But when the royal Dane, by Heav'n subdu'd,
Had seem'd to give the trade of slaughter o'er,
His hours he pass'd in peace, on Senu's gentle shore.
It chanc'd, as wand'ring at the close of light,
Along the mazes of a solemn grove,
When settling o'er the shade, approaching night,
Her gentle glooms with easy finger wove,
O'er ev'ry ally green, and gay alcove;
He heard, afar, a lamentable strain,
Of some benighted traveller, who strove
To scape the hand of violence, in vain,
And now with piercing cries the forest rang again.
Along the mazes of a solemn grove,
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Her gentle glooms with easy finger wove,
O'er ev'ry ally green, and gay alcove;
He heard, afar, a lamentable strain,
Of some benighted traveller, who strove
To scape the hand of violence, in vain,
And now with piercing cries the forest rang again.
He hurried on, instructed by his ear,
And soon the soul-affecting cause beheld,
A young Milesian virgin, lovely, fair,
With her attendant maids, by ruffians held,
Of Scandian race, who prowl'd the nightly field,
Like famish'd wolves, to seize their feeble prey,
But soon the sword of Theodolfe, compell'd
The lawless sons of spoil to haste away,
Like the nocturnal crew, which shun the eye of day.
And soon the soul-affecting cause beheld,
A young Milesian virgin, lovely, fair,
With her attendant maids, by ruffians held,
Of Scandian race, who prowl'd the nightly field,
Like famish'd wolves, to seize their feeble prey,
But soon the sword of Theodolfe, compell'd
The lawless sons of spoil to haste away,
Like the nocturnal crew, which shun the eye of day.
She thank'd the gallant youth, with grateful tears,
And at his warm request her lineage told;
Her ancestors, in Eirins golden years,
Ansoba's sons with gentle sway controll'd,
Now in a neighb'ring vale, her parent old,
The reliques of his ancient state possest,
Since cruel Dania chang'd the times of gold,
And claim'd the flow'ry borders of the west,
To hapless Iverdon, a dire, unwelcome guest.
And at his warm request her lineage told;
Her ancestors, in Eirins golden years,
Ansoba's sons with gentle sway controll'd,
Now in a neighb'ring vale, her parent old,
The reliques of his ancient state possest,
Since cruel Dania chang'd the times of gold,
And claim'd the flow'ry borders of the west,
To hapless Iverdon, a dire, unwelcome guest.
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The gallant Theodolfe the virgin led,
To the near mansion of her aged sire;
The sire, with hospitable rites, delay'd
The saviour of his child, while young Desire
Fann'd in the warriour's heart the latent fire.
The father saw, and hail'd the growing flame;
Fair Emma felt her gratitude inspire
A correspondent glow, but maiden shame,
And inborn dignity the infant wish o'ercame.
To the near mansion of her aged sire;
The sire, with hospitable rites, delay'd
The saviour of his child, while young Desire
Fann'd in the warriour's heart the latent fire.
The father saw, and hail'd the growing flame;
Fair Emma felt her gratitude inspire
A correspondent glow, but maiden shame,
And inborn dignity the infant wish o'ercame.
But soon the sire, in pity to the pair,
And won to yield, by Theodolfe's request,
Prevents the wishes of the conscious fair,
And tells the passion of his noble guest,
The lover oft before his suit had prest;
But still, with soft denial, to her sire
The maid referr'd; but when the youth confest
To the benignant man his warm desire,
He soon his sanction gave, and blest the sacred fire.
And won to yield, by Theodolfe's request,
Prevents the wishes of the conscious fair,
And tells the passion of his noble guest,
The lover oft before his suit had prest;
But still, with soft denial, to her sire
The maid referr'd; but when the youth confest
To the benignant man his warm desire,
He soon his sanction gave, and blest the sacred fire.
Their faith seem'd one, the pure baptismal rite,
The noble convert with his King had shar'd;
The maid consents, and soon his sacred light,
With chearful haste, the nuptial god prepar'd.
—Oh! let the holy rite be yet deferr'd,
Unhappy sire! till Tamor's Feast be o'er,
While Sitric veils his fraud, with double guard:
But soon, the genial board shall float in gore,
And strife the signal sound to Eirin's furthest shore.
[OMITTED]
The noble convert with his King had shar'd;
The maid consents, and soon his sacred light,
With chearful haste, the nuptial god prepar'd.
—Oh! let the holy rite be yet deferr'd,
Unhappy sire! till Tamor's Feast be o'er,
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But soon, the genial board shall float in gore,
And strife the signal sound to Eirin's furthest shore.
—Why hangs the husband o'er yon fatal scroll,
While streaming tears his infant joys profane?
Why does he gaze in agony of soul,
On the fair links of yonder golden chain,
Giv'n by his lovely bride, but giv'n in vain?
Alas! a stronger link of holy dread
Fetters his mind.—But oh! illustrious Dane,
Yet ere the moment of escape be fled,
Preserve thy lovely spouse, and sire's devoted head!
While streaming tears his infant joys profane?
Why does he gaze in agony of soul,
On the fair links of yonder golden chain,
Giv'n by his lovely bride, but giv'n in vain?
Alas! a stronger link of holy dread
Fetters his mind.—But oh! illustrious Dane,
Yet ere the moment of escape be fled,
Preserve thy lovely spouse, and sire's devoted head!
But now, with wild alarm, his lovely spouse
Perceives the tempest of the hero's breast;
How fast the tide of passion ebbs and flows,
How oft by dark despondence lull'd to rest.
With suppliant tears, the lovely mourner prest
The secret of his swelling grief to know,
And thus, at length, the conquer'd youth addrest
His spouse, tho' oft the storm of bursting woe,
And sorrow's bitter show'r forbad the cause to show.
Perceives the tempest of the hero's breast;
How fast the tide of passion ebbs and flows,
How oft by dark despondence lull'd to rest.
With suppliant tears, the lovely mourner prest
The secret of his swelling grief to know,
And thus, at length, the conquer'd youth addrest
His spouse, tho' oft the storm of bursting woe,
And sorrow's bitter show'r forbad the cause to show.
“Lost! lost, alas! beyond my power to save,
I now must leave whate'er I hold most dear,
Leave her, perhaps, to fill the gloomy grave,
And I, unhappy I, am doom'd to bear
A share in Eirin's woes!” alarm'd to hear
His words, and his impassion'd looks to see;
Again she pray'd her noble spouse to clear
The secret of the deadly embassy,
By every soothing art, and every tender plea.
I now must leave whate'er I hold most dear,
635
And I, unhappy I, am doom'd to bear
A share in Eirin's woes!” alarm'd to hear
His words, and his impassion'd looks to see;
Again she pray'd her noble spouse to clear
The secret of the deadly embassy,
By every soothing art, and every tender plea.
“Alas,” he cry'd, “the final blow is given,
Which seals the doom of this devoted land;
The signal of her fall is seen in heaven,
And Odin triumphs o'er the bloody strand,
The horrid business, long by Sitric plann'd,
Is ripe at last, and labours to a close—
Ev'n now, perhaps, he gives the stern command,
From Tamor's hall to let destruction loose,
Careless of obloquy and violated vows!”
Which seals the doom of this devoted land;
The signal of her fall is seen in heaven,
And Odin triumphs o'er the bloody strand,
The horrid business, long by Sitric plann'd,
Is ripe at last, and labours to a close—
Ev'n now, perhaps, he gives the stern command,
From Tamor's hall to let destruction loose,
Careless of obloquy and violated vows!”
“Oh could my single hand avert our doom!—
But cruel Honour, link'd with Fate, denies;
How sweet, with you, in distant climes to roam,
And spend our days beneath more gentle skies;
But oh! the martial oath, the hallow'd ties
That binds with more than adamantine force
The warriours soul!—Oh Heav'ns! the flames arise,
Yonder the sign of blood ascending soars,
Haste! haste! your instant flight! and quit those deadly shores!”
But cruel Honour, link'd with Fate, denies;
How sweet, with you, in distant climes to roam,
And spend our days beneath more gentle skies;
But oh! the martial oath, the hallow'd ties
That binds with more than adamantine force
The warriours soul!—Oh Heav'ns! the flames arise,
Yonder the sign of blood ascending soars,
Haste! haste! your instant flight! and quit those deadly shores!”
636
'Twas night, the father, and the weeping fair,
With a few trusty slaves, the hero led,
Down to the shore, but watchful Hinguar, there,
All round his cruel sentinels had spread,
And soon they met the deadly ambuscade:
Short was their strife, and threats and pray'rs, in vain,
The youth employ'd: in vain, he oft display'd
His faithful service to the royal Dane,
The captive pair were led to join the sentenc'd train.
With a few trusty slaves, the hero led,
Down to the shore, but watchful Hinguar, there,
All round his cruel sentinels had spread,
And soon they met the deadly ambuscade:
Short was their strife, and threats and pray'rs, in vain,
The youth employ'd: in vain, he oft display'd
His faithful service to the royal Dane,
The captive pair were led to join the sentenc'd train.
Gothmund arriv'd; in vain the youth implor'd,
The reverend father, and the fair, to free,
Immortal hate inspir'd the haughty Lord,
For Theodolfe's unshaken amity
To Eugene well he knew, and spurn'd his plea.
The hapless husband, struck with pale despair,
Stood for a while, in speechless agony,
Then sought (a slender boon) to see the fair,
For her tremendous doom, his Emma to prepare.
The reverend father, and the fair, to free,
Immortal hate inspir'd the haughty Lord,
For Theodolfe's unshaken amity
To Eugene well he knew, and spurn'd his plea.
The hapless husband, struck with pale despair,
Stood for a while, in speechless agony,
Then sought (a slender boon) to see the fair,
For her tremendous doom, his Emma to prepare.
Gothmund agreed, but hell inspir'd the thought,
To rend the bleeding heart with anguish new,
Then to the gloomy jail, the youth was brought,
Where Emma sate, retir'd from mortal view.
The awful scene to come, had chang'd her hue,
To saintly pale, yet still peculiar grace
Liv'd in her look, and deeper homage drew,
Than when the rose of health adorn'd her face,
For somewhat seem'd her mind, above its lot to raise.
To rend the bleeding heart with anguish new,
Then to the gloomy jail, the youth was brought,
Where Emma sate, retir'd from mortal view.
The awful scene to come, had chang'd her hue,
To saintly pale, yet still peculiar grace
Liv'd in her look, and deeper homage drew,
637
For somewhat seem'd her mind, above its lot to raise.
Her hands were clasp'd, but not in guilty grief,
Not, like a Magdalene, she rais'd her eye
With penitential tears, to beg relief—
Nor heav'd her bosom with one fearful sigh,
But, like a winged virtue, sent from high,
To this bad world, to walk the fated round,
She seem'd to meditate the op'ning sky,
As one on heaven's eternal voyage bound,
By fiery instinct rais'd to spurn the sordid ground.
Not, like a Magdalene, she rais'd her eye
With penitential tears, to beg relief—
Nor heav'd her bosom with one fearful sigh,
But, like a winged virtue, sent from high,
To this bad world, to walk the fated round,
She seem'd to meditate the op'ning sky,
As one on heaven's eternal voyage bound,
By fiery instinct rais'd to spurn the sordid ground.
But when he came, the angel left her look,
And all the woman rush'd upon her soul;
Her Heav'n-aspiring mind, awhile forsook
Her fiery-winged friends above the pole,
And mingled grief, and love connubial stole
In tears away “and do the fates allow
This boon,” she cry'd “before I reach the goal,
To see the partner of my bliss below,
Ere yet my parting soul the cares of life forego.”
And all the woman rush'd upon her soul;
Her Heav'n-aspiring mind, awhile forsook
Her fiery-winged friends above the pole,
And mingled grief, and love connubial stole
In tears away “and do the fates allow
This boon,” she cry'd “before I reach the goal,
To see the partner of my bliss below,
Ere yet my parting soul the cares of life forego.”
He clasp'd the weeping fair, and “yet,” he cry'd,
“A moment is allow'd, a slender space,
Yet, ere it fleet, thy lover's fate decide,
If mutual love, or length of happy days,
Or my eternal peace with Emma weighs;
Renounce the cross! and quit the sentenc'd train,
While Sitric, yet, the fatal word delays;
Proud Gothmund then may storm, but storm in vain,
To see his rescued prey contemn the broken chain.
“A moment is allow'd, a slender space,
Yet, ere it fleet, thy lover's fate decide,
If mutual love, or length of happy days,
Or my eternal peace with Emma weighs;
638
While Sitric, yet, the fatal word delays;
Proud Gothmund then may storm, but storm in vain,
To see his rescued prey contemn the broken chain.
“Think what a triumph to the Dane is giv'n,
What savage joy, to see his ancient hate
Against thy husband, seal'd by angry Heaven,
And his deep malice fed by Emma's fate.
Oh Emma! think, before 'tis yet too late;
Renounce the cross; and disappoint his wrath,
Revere thy fire! revere thy mourning mate,
Nor leave thy constant Theodolfe, beneath,
To drag a hated life, nor dare to 'venge thy death.”
What savage joy, to see his ancient hate
Against thy husband, seal'd by angry Heaven,
And his deep malice fed by Emma's fate.
Oh Emma! think, before 'tis yet too late;
Renounce the cross; and disappoint his wrath,
Revere thy fire! revere thy mourning mate,
Nor leave thy constant Theodolfe, beneath,
To drag a hated life, nor dare to 'venge thy death.”
He ceast, for sparkling indignation warm,
Lived in her look, and light'ned in her eye,
A heav'nly glow inhancing every charm;
“And is it thus you break the dearer tye,
That bound us with the sanction of the sky:
O bitterness of death! exalted pain!
I thought, when fortune dash'd my cup of joy,
This single consolation might remain,
To find us link'd above, in pure Emmanuel's reign.
Lived in her look, and light'ned in her eye,
A heav'nly glow inhancing every charm;
“And is it thus you break the dearer tye,
That bound us with the sanction of the sky:
O bitterness of death! exalted pain!
I thought, when fortune dash'd my cup of joy,
This single consolation might remain,
To find us link'd above, in pure Emmanuel's reign.
“Immortal guardians, thro' the dreadful test
Sustain my virtue, and my faith uphold;
For what is virtue, when the tranquil breast
Nor tryal knows, to purge the genuine gold
From earthly dross.—O negligent and cold,
To pure enjoyment, and the charms of mind;
I thought thy manly spirit, uncontroll'd,
Had left the accidents of life behind,
And each sublunar chance, to mortal man assign'd!”
Sustain my virtue, and my faith uphold;
For what is virtue, when the tranquil breast
Nor tryal knows, to purge the genuine gold
639
To pure enjoyment, and the charms of mind;
I thought thy manly spirit, uncontroll'd,
Had left the accidents of life behind,
And each sublunar chance, to mortal man assign'd!”
“And what is life, my Theodolfe,” she cry'd,
“Without the heart-felt joy, the heavenly glow,
Of self-acquittance, rais'd by virtuous pride,
O'er every transitory chance below?
Shall I survive, the final overthrow
Of conscience, reason, and eternal truth,
To feel the viewless sting of endless woe,
Above the pow'r of ought on earth to soothe;
Ah! lure me not to shame! mistaken, generous youth, &c.”
“Without the heart-felt joy, the heavenly glow,
Of self-acquittance, rais'd by virtuous pride,
O'er every transitory chance below?
Shall I survive, the final overthrow
Of conscience, reason, and eternal truth,
To feel the viewless sting of endless woe,
Above the pow'r of ought on earth to soothe;
Ah! lure me not to shame! mistaken, generous youth, &c.”
End of the Specimen.
Christian Law, so called from the famous gospel precept—Do unto others as you would they should do unto you.
Then follows an account of the division and allotment of a portion of the conquered country to the Dane, and the preparations for the royal nuptials. Suspicion of treachery, on the side of the Dane, entertained by Negil, and his dispute in the Milesian Senate, with Colmar, on the subject. The commencement of the story of Theodolfe and Emma concludes the Specimen.
640
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHARLEMONT, &c.
O thou! in letter'd ease retir'd,
Whose noon of life, the patriots fir'd;
When Eirin's free-born sons thy call obey'd:
What sister of the sacred nine,
(For all the virgin choir is thine,)
Hallows thy musings in Marino's shade?
Whose noon of life, the patriots fir'd;
When Eirin's free-born sons thy call obey'd:
What sister of the sacred nine,
(For all the virgin choir is thine,)
Hallows thy musings in Marino's shade?
I see thee sit, with tranquil eye,
The fair plantation's growth to spy;
Foster'd by thee, on Eirin's favour'd strand,
The nurslings of thine Attic Bower,
By vernal sun and genial shower,
Rais'd to an hopeful height, their boughs expand.
The fair plantation's growth to spy;
Foster'd by thee, on Eirin's favour'd strand,
The nurslings of thine Attic Bower,
By vernal sun and genial shower,
Rais'd to an hopeful height, their boughs expand.
641
Or, dost thou turn the Grecian page,
To mark, how Democratic Rage,
On other shores its fiery track pursu'd;
Till, cautious, from its wild career,
Assembled nations, struck with fear,
Remov'd its fuel, and the pest subdued.
To mark, how Democratic Rage,
On other shores its fiery track pursu'd;
Till, cautious, from its wild career,
Assembled nations, struck with fear,
Remov'd its fuel, and the pest subdued.
Not such thy mild and temper'd ray,
That chac'd the settled gloom away,
When Freedom op'd her eyes on new-born light;
When by the kindling dawn reveal'd,
His peaceful bands emblaz'd the field,
Publish'd the high resolve, and claim'd their right.
That chac'd the settled gloom away,
When Freedom op'd her eyes on new-born light;
When by the kindling dawn reveal'd,
His peaceful bands emblaz'd the field,
Publish'd the high resolve, and claim'd their right.
Full many a meteor's wand'ring light,
Has burn'd along the waste of night,
By vapours kindled, and in vapours lost;
Flashing in ceruscations wild,
Since first your beam, with influence mild,
Rose like a star benign, and bless'd our coast.
Has burn'd along the waste of night,
By vapours kindled, and in vapours lost;
Flashing in ceruscations wild,
Since first your beam, with influence mild,
Rose like a star benign, and bless'd our coast.
Long exil'd from his native shore,
You brought the sleeping pilgrim o'er,
And watch'd his slumbers with parental care.
Your art the magic medium clear'd,
Thro' which his native land appear'd
A somb'rous scene, a prospect of despair!
You brought the sleeping pilgrim o'er,
And watch'd his slumbers with parental care.
Your art the magic medium clear'd,
Thro' which his native land appear'd
A somb'rous scene, a prospect of despair!
642
You taught him soon to recognize,
Her native hills, that kiss'd the skies,
Bosom'd with winding vales, with woods emboss'd
Minerva thus, with heavenly sleight,
Clear'd from thick fogs, the cheated sight
Of sage Ulysses, on his native coast.
Her native hills, that kiss'd the skies,
Bosom'd with winding vales, with woods emboss'd
Minerva thus, with heavenly sleight,
Clear'd from thick fogs, the cheated sight
Of sage Ulysses, on his native coast.
For years, in Wisdom's shrine conceal'd,
Your pious care the stranger held,
(So Judah's patriot hid the royal boy,)
Till, to the plausive bands around,
You call'd him from his shrine profound,
Like a descending native of the sky.
Your pious care the stranger held,
(So Judah's patriot hid the royal boy,)
Till, to the plausive bands around,
You call'd him from his shrine profound,
Like a descending native of the sky.
Thy daring friend
the flag unfurl'd,
High streaming o'er a wond'ring world;
He spoke; and millions caught the sacred flame;
Thus Aaron, by his brother call'd
To Israel's legions long enthrall'd,
With heaven-taught eloquence divulg'd their claim:
High streaming o'er a wond'ring world;
He spoke; and millions caught the sacred flame;
Thus Aaron, by his brother call'd
To Israel's legions long enthrall'd,
With heaven-taught eloquence divulg'd their claim:
O may'st thou keep the public mind
Like thine, to legal claims confin'd,
Like that prime orb, that rules the murm'ring tide,
And checks the sister planets sway,
Which else would give the deluge way,
O'er the pale shores indevastation wide!
Like thine, to legal claims confin'd,
Like that prime orb, that rules the murm'ring tide,
And checks the sister planets sway,
Which else would give the deluge way,
O'er the pale shores indevastation wide!
643
And may the band
that boasts thy name,
Press onward in the paths of fame,
And still new worlds of science own their power.
Long o'er their views may'st thou preside,
Their plans with sapient counsel guide,
And share the well-earn'd wreath's immortal dower!
Press onward in the paths of fame,
And still new worlds of science own their power.
Long o'er their views may'st thou preside,
Their plans with sapient counsel guide,
And share the well-earn'd wreath's immortal dower!
Friend to the muses humblest plea,
Thy genial smile distinguish'd me,
When my rude hand the Tuscan lyre essay'd.
May every social joy combine,
(For every social charm is thine,)
To chear thy leisure in Marino's shade!
Thy genial smile distinguish'd me,
When my rude hand the Tuscan lyre essay'd.
May every social joy combine,
(For every social charm is thine,)
To chear thy leisure in Marino's shade!
These verses were by accident misplaced, which I hope will be accepted as an apology, by the noble personage to whom they are addressed, for their appearance in this part of the volume.
N. B. An earlier place in the Volume, was designed for the foregoing lines; but, owing to an accident, it happened to be misplaced.
645
TO THE RIGHT REVEREND THOMAS PERCY, LORD BISHOP OF DROMORE,
ON HIS RETURN TO IRELAND, ANNO. 1793.
Welcome! thrice welcome to those shores, again
Escap'd the perils of th'autumnal main! [OMITTED]
O'er many a mournful trophy, won and lost,
Four times the burning line Hyperion crost,
And, wheeling round from either tropic, view'd
Waste realms, and flaming towns, and fields of blood.
While to his eye, our planet's face afar
Display the sanguine, stern, eclipse of war,
Whence Blasphemy, with deep, volcanic rage,
Seem'd war with heaven, and man, at once to wage;
Since Taste and Genius wept the western gale
That wing'd, for other shores, thy parting sail.
Not long they mourn'd; for, tho' you seem'd to part,
Your country's purest love, that warm'd your heart,
Still led you, like Verona's sage, to find
What fatal cause had fir'd the general mind,
What chance had given the flaming chaos way,
Whose loud, eruptive storm obscur'd the day.
Undaunted round the verge you seem'd to go,
And mark the fiery flood that rav'd below,
Then, with deep thought, explor'd the mighty charm
Of sovereign power to lay the coming storm.—
From the calm regions of eternal rest,
Ev'n from the splendid mansions of the blest,
You call'd the mighty spirit to your aid,
Who here, in mortal form, the Crozier sway'd.
On thee the mit'red saint, benignant, smiles,
And aids, with viewless hand, thy noble toils.
Escap'd the perils of th'autumnal main! [OMITTED]
O'er many a mournful trophy, won and lost,
Four times the burning line Hyperion crost,
And, wheeling round from either tropic, view'd
Waste realms, and flaming towns, and fields of blood.
While to his eye, our planet's face afar
Display the sanguine, stern, eclipse of war,
Whence Blasphemy, with deep, volcanic rage,
Seem'd war with heaven, and man, at once to wage;
Since Taste and Genius wept the western gale
That wing'd, for other shores, thy parting sail.
646
Your country's purest love, that warm'd your heart,
Still led you, like Verona's sage, to find
What fatal cause had fir'd the general mind,
What chance had given the flaming chaos way,
Whose loud, eruptive storm obscur'd the day.
Undaunted round the verge you seem'd to go,
And mark the fiery flood that rav'd below,
Then, with deep thought, explor'd the mighty charm
Of sovereign power to lay the coming storm.—
From the calm regions of eternal rest,
Ev'n from the splendid mansions of the blest,
You call'd the mighty spirit to your aid,
Who here, in mortal form, the Crozier sway'd.
On thee the mit'red saint, benignant, smiles,
And aids, with viewless hand, thy noble toils.
O may'st thou, like the warm approach of spring,
That Promethæan charm, to Eirin bring,
Which dull, cold hearts will own, with filial awe,
And learn to beat for Loyalty and Law!—
By thee recall'd, our buried bards arise,
Visions of ancient glory meet our eyes;
The lyre resounds, to former ages dear,
And long-forgotten warblings charm the ear.
Amid the laurel'd pomp we see thee stand,
The trembling chords obey thy skilful hand;
The Phrygian harp renews its sweetest strain,
And Bertram's sorrows wound the list'ning train. [OMITTED]
In ancient times the muses worth was priz'd,
Her aid the social virtues recognized;
Nor are her charms decay'd, while Percy's name
Supports her state, and dignifies her claim.
The muse will earn her wreath, for she can quell
The demagogue, and mar the sophist's spell:
The descant bold of Thracia's lyre alone,
Baffled the Syrens with commanding tone;
When their smooth measures lull'd the slumb'ring main,
And warriors melted at the magic strain.
But nobler arts are thine, sublimer toils,
When Zion crowns thy cares with other spoils;
When Sorrow dries her tears, Despondence flies,
As thou unfold'st the counsels of the skies:
When touched by thee, her holy valves unclose,
And far within, the sacred splendor glows,
While, thro' the mazy walk, thy powerful hand,
Conducts thy pupil to the central stand.
Whence his clear ken, by heavenly art refin'd,
Takes in the mighty scheme that fills the mind;
While at each glance, Imagination burns,
And as he views, the man to angel turns.
O may the sacred influence spread around,
Till wild licentious rage, with awe profound,
Submits, obsequious, to its wide controll,
And claim the nobler freedom of the soul!
That Promethæan charm, to Eirin bring,
Which dull, cold hearts will own, with filial awe,
And learn to beat for Loyalty and Law!—
647
Visions of ancient glory meet our eyes;
The lyre resounds, to former ages dear,
And long-forgotten warblings charm the ear.
Amid the laurel'd pomp we see thee stand,
The trembling chords obey thy skilful hand;
The Phrygian harp renews its sweetest strain,
And Bertram's sorrows wound the list'ning train. [OMITTED]
In ancient times the muses worth was priz'd,
Her aid the social virtues recognized;
Nor are her charms decay'd, while Percy's name
Supports her state, and dignifies her claim.
The muse will earn her wreath, for she can quell
The demagogue, and mar the sophist's spell:
The descant bold of Thracia's lyre alone,
Baffled the Syrens with commanding tone;
When their smooth measures lull'd the slumb'ring main,
And warriors melted at the magic strain.
648
When Zion crowns thy cares with other spoils;
When Sorrow dries her tears, Despondence flies,
As thou unfold'st the counsels of the skies:
When touched by thee, her holy valves unclose,
And far within, the sacred splendor glows,
While, thro' the mazy walk, thy powerful hand,
Conducts thy pupil to the central stand.
Whence his clear ken, by heavenly art refin'd,
Takes in the mighty scheme that fills the mind;
While at each glance, Imagination burns,
And as he views, the man to angel turns.
O may the sacred influence spread around,
Till wild licentious rage, with awe profound,
Submits, obsequious, to its wide controll,
And claim the nobler freedom of the soul!
The leader thus of Israel's holy choir,
(When bloody Saul, with persecuting Ire
Th'anointed youth of Heaven's own choice pursued,
Resolv'd to stain the sacred court with blood,)
Struck the sweet lyre, and rais'd the potent lay,
The demons heard the hymn, with pale dismay,
And from their ancient home with fury chac'd,
Forsook their mansion in the maniac's breast.
(When bloody Saul, with persecuting Ire
Th'anointed youth of Heaven's own choice pursued,
Resolv'd to stain the sacred court with blood,)
Struck the sweet lyre, and rais'd the potent lay,
The demons heard the hymn, with pale dismay,
And from their ancient home with fury chac'd,
Forsook their mansion in the maniac's breast.
His Lordship is engaged in a republication of the works of the celebrated Dr. Jeremy Taylor, some time Lord Bishop of Down and Connor; a design eminently adapted to promote the true evangelical spirit of pure philanthropy, Christian moderation, and subjection to legal authority.
------Οι δ' απο νηος
Ηδη πεισματ' εμελλον επ ηιονεσσι βαλεσθαι
Ει με αρ Οιαγροιο παις Θρηικιος Ορφευς
Βισονιην ενι χερσι εαις φορμιγγα τανυσσας
Κραιπνον ευτρυχαλοιο μελος Καναχησεν αοιδης
Οφρ' αμυδις κλονεοντος επιβρομεωνται ακουαι
Κρεγμω, παρθενικην ενοπην εβιησατο φορμιψξ.
Ηδη πεισματ' εμελλον επ ηιονεσσι βαλεσθαι
Ει με αρ Οιαγροιο παις Θρηικιος Ορφευς
Βισονιην ενι χερσι εαις φορμιγγα τανυσσας
Κραιπνον ευτρυχαλοιο μελος Καναχησεν αοιδης
Οφρ' αμυδις κλονεοντος επιβρομεωνται ακουαι
Κρεγμω, παρθενικην ενοπην εβιησατο φορμιψξ.
Apol. Rhod. B, 4. l. 904.
| Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric | |