Poems to Thespia :: :: University of Virginia Library

Write says Melissa, fie my Dear,
You know the expected time is near;
And unimproved to let it pass
Would surely ask a front of brass.
Good Heaven! this subject why renew?
Reflect on what I have in view.
Sunday you know is just at hand,
Not many hours I can command,
Yet I my talents must display,
And preach at Ratho all the day.
Fancy besides no longer paints
Her fairy scenes; e'en nature faints.
How shall to verse my spirits rise,
Inured of late to sermonize?

From jaded thought, and barren brain
These arguments I urge in vain,

181

For let me say whate'er I will,
Melissa importunes me still.
True, Fancy is not in our power,
Unless we catch the lucid hour.
But Friendship's bright and holy flame
In feeling souls is still the same.
If in your heart her ardours glow,
Spontaneous will your verses flow;
Each brilliant thought they will suggest,
And animate the languid breast.
Yet e'en if this resource should fail,
Nor o'er your lethargy prevail,
At least your kind intention shew,
And pay the thanks you justly owe.

Oh! could my grateful spirit soar
High as the Theban swan of yore,
Whose lay through earth's remotest bounds,
And Heaven's extensive arch resounds,

182

When fired some victor to proclaim
At Isthmian or Olympic game.
Then should my faithful numbers tell
What transports in my bosom swell,
My soul what keen emotions thrill,
My eyes what tepid currents fill,
With virtue's triumph, nature's smart,
While Belisarius tears my heart.
With such heroic souls in view,
Tho malice and design pursue,
We scarce can wish to suffer less,
But envy the sublime distress.

Oh! had the godlike man foreseen
That he with laurels ever green
Should in duration's endless round
By Genius such as thine be crown'd,
On hope above their malice borne,
He might have laugh'd his foes to scorn,

183

And felt a triumph o'er despair,
Which martyrs might exult to share.

Be these degenerate days accurst,
In vice's calendar the worst,
When Managers, Taste's plague and vermin,
The fate of Genius must determine.
Yet execrations Muse forbear,
Their own dark courses let them steer;
Should wrath it's magazines explore,
Not Heaven itself can curse them more.

Chill'd with the view, compassion sighs;
To gayer subjects fancy flies.
Tho callous long to vulgar praise,
Thy late epistle she surveys,
Which since received, she oft hath found
A sovereign balm for every wound.
The mystic secret, oh! impart,
Inform me by what potent art,

184

To give thy bright conceptions birth,
Thou call'st the powers of wit and mirth.
Where could'st thou find the skill to please
At once with dignity and ease?
While in thy magic circle bound
The enchanted Graces smile around,
And placid from her aweful throne
Wisdom asserts the smile her own.

Oh! could the Muses' palfrey bear
My corpulence thro fields of air,
How would I skim the fluid way
Without cessation, or relay,
Nor in it's bowers refreshment taste,
Till thee and Thespia I embraced!
Yet then with disappointed pride
From morn to evening should I chide.
For shame, my happy Friend! for shame!
For thee alone shall Genius flame?

185

Whate'er adorns the good and wise
Would'st Thou alone monopolize?
Wit's power alone would'st Thou assume?
For thee alone shall laurels bloom?
Nor We inferior witlings share
One sprig to keep Us from despair?

But by the keen impulse of song,
And keener friendship urged along,
Intent my feelings to express,
My lays forget whom they address.
The man by whom each worth is known,
And praised each merit, but his own.

At length the fit of passion o'er,
When envy could upbraid no more,
My soul would Thespia's charms admire,
And of your health, and her's enquire.
Or with alternate pleasure tell
That I had left Melissa well.

186

But this excursion to my vows
No favouring destiny allows.
Meantime tho these gross elements
Tho fate this interview prevents
Letters more expedite can fly,
And represent me to your eye.

You hinted once, but ah! 'tis plain
The hope that hint inspired was vain,
That you and Thespia, prospect dear!
Might pay a friendly visit here.
But tho the distance be remote,
And that delightful hint forgot,
Yet recollect the solemn way
In which you end your former lay;
There promises explicit given
Are heard, and ratified in Heaven,
That you would tell in future strains
What of your conduct still remains.

187

In close Divan of late I saw
Much Counsel learned in the law,
These all declared it understood
That promises in verse were good,
And if completion should not follow,
An action lay before Apollo.

Keep then that axiom still in view,
An axiom pleasing as 'tis true,
“That thus 'tis grateful to unbend
And Egotisms delight a friend.”

Edinburgh, August 10, 1773. T. BLACKLOCK.