University of Virginia Library

[Job, good and just, in Uz had sojourned long]

“Job, good and just, in Uz had sojourned long,
He feared his God and shunned the way of wrong.
Three were his daughters, and his sons were seven,
And large the wealth bestowed on him by heaven.
Seven thousand sheep were in his pastures fed,
Three thousand camels by his train were led;
For him the yoke a thousand oxen wore,
Five hundred she asses his burdens bore.
His household to a mighty host increased,
The greatest man was Job in all the East.”

[How awfully sublime and grand to see]

“How awfully sublime and grand to see,
The lamp of Day wrap'ed in Obscurity.
To see the sun remove behind the moon,
And nightly darkness shroud the day at noon;
The birds no longer feel his genial ray,
But cease to sing and sit upon the spray.
A solemn gloom and stillness spreads around,
Reigns in the air and broods o'er all the ground.
Once-smiling Nature wears another face,
The blooming meadow loses half its grace.
All things are silent save the chilling breeze,
That in low whispers rustles through the trees.
The stars break forth and stud the azure sky,
And larger planets meet the wondering eye.
Now busy man leaves off his toil to gaze,
And some are struck with horror and amaze,
Others of noble feelings more refin'd
Serenely view it with a tranquil mind.
See God's bright image strikingly portrayed
In each appearance which his power had made.
(Fixed in their hearts cool Meditation sate,
With uprais'd eye and thoughtful look sedate.)
Now burst the Sun from silence and from night,
Though few his beams, they shed a welcome light;
And Nature's choir, enlivened by his rays,
Harmonious warble their Creator's praise.
The shades of darkness feel his potent ray,
Mine eye pursue them as they flee away;

[The word is given, the cruel arrow flies]

“The word is given, the cruel arrow flies
With death-foreboding aim, and Woodbridge dies.
Lo! Hampshire's genius, bending o'er his bier,
In silent sorrow heaves the sigh sincere;
Loose to the wind her hair dishevelled flies
And falling tear-drops glisten in her eyes.”

[So seemed the Cretan labyrinth of old]

So seemed the Cretan labyrinth of old,
Maze within maze, in many a winding fold.
Deep in those convoluted paths in vain
The wretched captive sought the day again,
But, lost and wearied with the devious way,
Fell to the monster bull a helpless prey
Till Ariadne lent the guiding thread
That back to life the Athenian hero led.
Thus, round and round, with intricate design,
These snaky walks in endless mystery twine;
Yet here no danger lurks, no murderous power
Waits the pale victim, ready to devour.
Our hands in turn bestow the friendly clue;
Pursue our verse, our verse shall guide you through.

[The beautiful of Israel's land lie slain]

“The beautiful of Israel's land lie slain
On the high places. How the mighty ones
Are fallen! Tell it not in Gath, nor sound
The tidings in the streets of Ascalon,
Lest there the daughters of the Philistines
Rejoice, lest there the heathen maidens sing
The song of triumph. Oh ye mountain slopes—
Ye Heights of Gilboa, let there be no rain
Nor dew upon you; let no offerings smoke
Upon your fields, for there the strong man's shield,
The shield of Saul, was vilely cast away,
As though he ne'er had been anointed king.
From bloody fray, from conflict to the death,
With men of might the bow of Jonathan
Turned never back, nor did the sword of Saul
Return without the spoils of victory.
Joined in their loves and pleasant in their lives
Were Saul and Jonathan; nor in their deaths
Divided; swifter were they in pursuit
Than eagles, and of more than lion strength.
Weep, Israel's daughters! over Saul, who robed
Your limbs in scarlet, adding ornaments
That ye delight in, ornaments of gold.
How are the mighty fallen in the heat
Of battle! Oh, my brother Jonathan,
Slain on the heights! My heart is wrung for thee;
My brother, very pleasant hast thou been
To me; thy love for me was wonderful,
Passing the love of women. How are fallen
The mighty, and their weapons lie in dust!”

[Once more the Bard, with eager eye, reviews]

“Once more the Bard, with eager eye, reviews
The flowery paths of fancy, and the Muse
Once more essays to trill forgotten strains,
The loved amusement of his native plains.
Late you beheld me treading labor's round,
To guide slow oxen o'er the furrowed ground;
The sturdy hoe or slender rake to ply,
'Midst dust and sweat, beneath a summer sky.
But now I pore o'er Virgil's glowing lines,
Where, famed in war, the great Æneas shines;
Where novel scenes around me seem to stand,
Lo! grim Alecto whirls the flaming brand.
Dire jarring tumult, death and battle rage,
Fierce armies close, and daring chiefs engage;
Mars thunders furious from his flying car,
And hoarse-toned clarions stir the raging war.
Nor with less splendor does his master-hand
Paint the blue skies, the ocean, and the land;
Majestic mountains rear their awful head,
Fair plains extend, and bloomy vales are spread.
The rugged cliff in threatening grandeur towers,
And joy sports smiling in Arcadian bowers;
In silent calm the expanded ocean sleeps,
Or boisterous whirlwinds toss the rising deeps;
Triumphant vessels o'er his rolling tide,
With painted prows and gaudy streamers, glide.”

THE GENIUS OF COLUMBIA.

AD MUSAM.

“So long neglectful of thy dues,
And absent from thy shrine so long,
Say, wilt thou deign, Immortal Muse,
Again to inspire thy votary's song?
The time has been when fresh as air
I loved at morn the hills to climb,
With dew-drenched feet and bosom bare,
And ponder on the artless rhyme;
And through the long laborious day
(For mine has been the peasant's toil),
I hummed the meditated lay,
While the slow oxen turned the soil.”

“BROOKS'S CANADA SONG.

A MEMORY.

[Corinth! proud Corinth! who, upon the verge]

“Corinth! proud Corinth! who, upon the verge
Of the great deep, hast made thy queenly seat!
That deep thy vassal is, and every surge
That strikes thy shore flings riches at thy feet.