 | Poems, dramatic and miscellaneous |  |
195
To Mr. ---.
Alluding to a Conversation which favoured the Opinion of Fatalism; that human Action, whether good or evil, springs from the Principle of self Love, void of any real Benevolence, when traced up to its Source.
Though short, far short, my pen of the sublime,
Fate urges on, and bids me write in rhyme;
I hope my friend the effort will excuse,
Nor blame the heart, but chide the niggard muse.
Fate urges on, and bids me write in rhyme;
I hope my friend the effort will excuse,
Nor blame the heart, but chide the niggard muse.
Is it a wild enthusiastic flame,
That swells the bosom panting after fame;
Dilates the mind, while every sail's unfurl'd,
To catch the plaudits of a gazing world?
Is there no permanent, no steady pole,
To point us on, and guide the wandering soul?
Does prejudice and passion rule mankind?
Are there no springs that actuate the mind,
Whose deep meanders have a nobler source,
Than vain self love, to guide their winding course?
That swells the bosom panting after fame;
Dilates the mind, while every sail's unfurl'd,
To catch the plaudits of a gazing world?
Is there no permanent, no steady pole,
To point us on, and guide the wandering soul?
Does prejudice and passion rule mankind?
Are there no springs that actuate the mind,
Whose deep meanders have a nobler source,
Than vain self love, to guide their winding course?
The gen'rous ardour, stil'd benevolence,
Is it all art, to gratify the sense?
Or give imagination further scope?
That airy queen, who guides the helm of hope,
Holds a false mirror to the dazzled sight;
A dim perspective, a delusive light,
That swells the bubbles of life's shorten'd span,
While wisdom laughs at the deluded man,
Wrap'd in ecstatics, by imagin'd fame,
When the next moment may blot out his name.
Is it all art, to gratify the sense?
Or give imagination further scope?
That airy queen, who guides the helm of hope,
Holds a false mirror to the dazzled sight;
A dim perspective, a delusive light,
That swells the bubbles of life's shorten'd span,
While wisdom laughs at the deluded man,
Wrap'd in ecstatics, by imagin'd fame,
When the next moment may blot out his name.
196
Can't the wise precepts of a Plato's school,
Or a divine—a still more perfect rule,
Arouse, exalt, and animate the soul
Self to renounce, and rise above control
Of narrow passions, that the man debase,
And from his breast his maker's image rase;
Or are the fetters that enslave the mind
Of such a strong and adamantine kind,
So firmly lock'd, and so securely riv'd,
The more we strive, the more we're still deceiv'd;
Are truth and friendship no where to be found,
And patriot virtue nothing but a sound?
Then may a Cæsar equal honours claim,
With gen'rous Brutus' celebrated name:
For the poor tribute of a short applause,
One stabb'd a tyrant, trampling on the laws;
While the proud despot mark'd his baneful way,
With virtue's tears, and triumph'd o'er his prey.
Or a divine—a still more perfect rule,
Arouse, exalt, and animate the soul
Self to renounce, and rise above control
Of narrow passions, that the man debase,
And from his breast his maker's image rase;
Or are the fetters that enslave the mind
Of such a strong and adamantine kind,
So firmly lock'd, and so securely riv'd,
The more we strive, the more we're still deceiv'd;
Are truth and friendship no where to be found,
And patriot virtue nothing but a sound?
Then may a Cæsar equal honours claim,
With gen'rous Brutus' celebrated name:
For the poor tribute of a short applause,
One stabb'd a tyrant, trampling on the laws;
While the proud despot mark'd his baneful way,
With virtue's tears, and triumph'd o'er his prey.
Cæsar enslav'd, and Brutus would have freed,
Self, the sole point in which they're both agreed.
Self, the sole point in which they're both agreed.
Self love, that stimulus to nobler aims,
Bade Nero light the capital in flames;
Bade Borgia act a most infernal part,
Or Scipio to triumph o'er his heart;
Bids --- betray his native land,
And his base brother lend his perjur'd hand,
While freedom weeps, and heav'n forbears to shed
Its awful vengeance on the guilty head.
Bade Nero light the capital in flames;
Bade Borgia act a most infernal part,
Or Scipio to triumph o'er his heart;
Bids --- betray his native land,
And his base brother lend his perjur'd hand,
While freedom weeps, and heav'n forbears to shed
Its awful vengeance on the guilty head.
If such is life, and fancy throws the bowl,
And appetite and caprice rule the whole;
If virtuous friendship has no solid base,
But false deception holds the facred place;
Then from thy mem'ry rase out every line,
Nor recollect a sentiment of mine,
But dark oblivion's sable veil draw o'er,
And I'll forbear to interrupt thee more.
And appetite and caprice rule the whole;
If virtuous friendship has no solid base,
But false deception holds the facred place;
197
Nor recollect a sentiment of mine,
But dark oblivion's sable veil draw o'er,
And I'll forbear to interrupt thee more.
For if vice boasts her origin the same
With social joy and patriotic flame,
Then I must wish to bid the world farewel,
Turn Anchoret, and choose some lonely cell,
Beneath some peaceful hermitage reclin'd,
To weep the misery of all mankind,
'Till days and years, till time shall cease to roll,
And truth eternal strike the wondering soul.
With social joy and patriotic flame,
Then I must wish to bid the world farewel,
Turn Anchoret, and choose some lonely cell,
Beneath some peaceful hermitage reclin'd,
To weep the misery of all mankind,
'Till days and years, till time shall cease to roll,
And truth eternal strike the wondering soul.
| Poems, dramatic and miscellaneous | |