 | The virtues of society |  |
3
To Mrs. ADAMS.
Madam,
The following production is one of my favorite children; it speaks to the heart, and without ornament, or personal beauty, is recommended by all the chaste virtues, and interesting attributes, of the most favored mortal.
I know not any individual, to whom a model of conjugal excellence, of refined understanding, and attractive accomplishments, can with more propriety be devoted, than to the confided friend, the cultivated companion, the amiable partner, of a character, in which America glories, and whom the world venerates.
Yet the writer of these pages supplicates no patronage, and solicits no support, except the flattery of your esteem, the encouragement of your approbation; and is less influenced by the benefit she may derive, than by the emulation she feels, in expressing the high respect and admiration, with which she has the honor to consider herself
Your humble servant, THE AUTHOR.
5
THE VIRTUES OF SOCIETY.
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If in a former publication the Author of these pages has attempted to portray the sublime Virtues of Nature—with more solicitude, though with less encouragement, she ventures on the present occasion to support, by a brilliant example, that the higher grades of civilized Society are no less productive of the pre-eminent qualities of fidelity and magnanimity, than the unspoiled and uncultivated communities of the forest.
The subject, founded upon a pathetic occurrence of the American Revolution, is principally selected from a little book, containing letters of General Burgoyne: deeply affected by the interesting recital, the Author has not despaired of inspiring the same sympathy in others; and, under that impression, again presumes to appear before the public tribunal.
The leading features of the following sketch are literally drawn agreeably to the few characteristic outlines, which could be obtained; and the ornaments of Poetry have added but little to the description of a patient, persevering, fortitude, which, in displaying the individual, ennobles the whole species.
Let the proud Bard of ancient virtue tell,
How Arria lived, and Laodonia fell;
How the fair queen,
whom asian realms adored,
In her own breast enshrined her lifeless lord,
On his lost form with daily fondness fed,
And mix'd her breathing relics with the dead;
The humble minstrel will a tale impart,
Drawn from the living efforts of the heart,
Adventurous beauty, love's inspiring flame,
Beyond the storied page of fabling fame.
How Arria lived, and Laodonia fell;
How the fair queen,
ARTEMESIA, queen of Doris, having lost her husband, Mausolus, erected a superb monument (one of the wonders of the world) to his memory, and after its completion ordered his bones to be pulverized, and every day mingled with a liquid preparation, which was her only food, determined to entomb him in her own body; she fell a victim to this resolution, and again united to her beloved husband, was interred in the Mausoleum, which she had erected to perpetuate his name and virtues. See Univ. Hist.
In her own breast enshrined her lifeless lord,
On his lost form with daily fondness fed,
And mix'd her breathing relics with the dead;
The humble minstrel will a tale impart,
Drawn from the living efforts of the heart,
Adventurous beauty, love's inspiring flame,
Beyond the storied page of fabling fame.
If the doubting Muse the fates ordain,
That distant realms shall heed her timid strain,
The matchless theme will greet a nation's ear,
And call from beauty's eye the bashful tear.
That distant realms shall heed her timid strain,
6
And call from beauty's eye the bashful tear.
Harriet, the titled grace of Britain's shore,
A high-born nymph in lordly nuptials bore,
Her form, by nature's cunning hand array'd,
Each blending beauty of her soul portray'd,
The modest blush, the genius-speaking eye,
The thrilling smile of blest benignity,
Where chaste, attractive, elegance combined
A cherub's softness with an angel's mind;
'Twas hers adown the graceful dance to glide,
Light as the buoyant swan, that skims the tide,
O'er the high harp her polish'd fingers fling,
And touch to eloquence the speaking string,
With liquid throat to pour the lover's pain
In the sweet warble of Italia's strain;
Beneath her magic pencil's forming wand
New villas rise, and greener woods expand,
While to her tutor'd rhetoric was given
To point the stars, that gem the brow of heaven,
The plant's quick growth, the mineral's slow decay,
The electric torrent's undulating way,
Or round the pictured orb instructive trace
Each varying zone, that tints the changeful face;
Hers was the power, in prosperous fortune blest,
To calm the cares, that rend the widow's breast,
To feed pale want, repining grief to cheer,
And from oppression wring the unwilling tear,
With moving eye, and touching voice, impart
Fire to the fancy, passion to the heart.
A high-born nymph in lordly nuptials bore,
Her form, by nature's cunning hand array'd,
Each blending beauty of her soul portray'd,
The modest blush, the genius-speaking eye,
The thrilling smile of blest benignity,
Where chaste, attractive, elegance combined
A cherub's softness with an angel's mind;
'Twas hers adown the graceful dance to glide,
Light as the buoyant swan, that skims the tide,
O'er the high harp her polish'd fingers fling,
And touch to eloquence the speaking string,
With liquid throat to pour the lover's pain
In the sweet warble of Italia's strain;
Beneath her magic pencil's forming wand
New villas rise, and greener woods expand,
While to her tutor'd rhetoric was given
To point the stars, that gem the brow of heaven,
7
The electric torrent's undulating way,
Or round the pictured orb instructive trace
Each varying zone, that tints the changeful face;
Hers was the power, in prosperous fortune blest,
To calm the cares, that rend the widow's breast,
To feed pale want, repining grief to cheer,
And from oppression wring the unwilling tear,
With moving eye, and touching voice, impart
Fire to the fancy, passion to the heart.
Such Harriet was—by polish'd care refined,—
Her form the herald of her nobler mind,
At the dread hour, when angry fate unfurl'd
War's crimson standard round the Younger World;
Ere the train'd warriors of the sea-girt plain
Left their loved home to plough the western main,
Ranged in review, before the Monarch stood
The noblest, bravest, of Britannia's blood;
While many a peer, and many a beauteous dame,
Led by the court, in bright procession came,
Harriet alone unrivall'd charms displays,
The boast of passion, and the theme of praise;
But chiefly his, who, foremost of the train,
Led his tall hundreds o'er the portion'd plain,
Ackland, whose brow the blazing helmet bears,
And seems Apollo in the garb of Mars,
To Harriet seems, all, that her dazzled view
In the bright hour of picturing fancy drew.—
With troubled transport, and disorder'd charms,
The fluttering voice its kindred heart alarms,
Through the fair frame betrays the latent fire,
Each hope is mutual, and each young desire
Flows from the soul in many a balmy sigh,
Or beams expression from the meeting eye.—
—Though Britain-born, the suppliant youth appears
A kneeling slave, with all a coward's fears—
—Thus where the prisoning cage its pass extends,
O'er the loved bait the hovering songster bends,
For yet untasted sweets, with furling wing,
Braves the bright bondage, and elastic string,
Quits his clear heaven abroad, his free command,
For the soft shelter, and the feeding hand,
Forgets the range, that roving youth required,
And all the charms his changeful heart admired,
On the smooth perch to wake the matin strain,
Pleased with his sateless feast, and silken chain.
Her form the herald of her nobler mind,
At the dread hour, when angry fate unfurl'd
War's crimson standard round the Younger World;
Ere the train'd warriors of the sea-girt plain
Left their loved home to plough the western main,
Ranged in review, before the Monarch stood
The noblest, bravest, of Britannia's blood;
While many a peer, and many a beauteous dame,
Led by the court, in bright procession came,
8
The boast of passion, and the theme of praise;
But chiefly his, who, foremost of the train,
Led his tall hundreds o'er the portion'd plain,
Ackland, whose brow the blazing helmet bears,
And seems Apollo in the garb of Mars,
To Harriet seems, all, that her dazzled view
In the bright hour of picturing fancy drew.—
With troubled transport, and disorder'd charms,
The fluttering voice its kindred heart alarms,
Through the fair frame betrays the latent fire,
Each hope is mutual, and each young desire
Flows from the soul in many a balmy sigh,
Or beams expression from the meeting eye.—
—Though Britain-born, the suppliant youth appears
A kneeling slave, with all a coward's fears—
—Thus where the prisoning cage its pass extends,
O'er the loved bait the hovering songster bends,
For yet untasted sweets, with furling wing,
Braves the bright bondage, and elastic string,
Quits his clear heaven abroad, his free command,
For the soft shelter, and the feeding hand,
9
And all the charms his changeful heart admired,
On the smooth perch to wake the matin strain,
Pleased with his sateless feast, and silken chain.
But when compell'd to quit the brilliant plains,
Oppress'd by absence, languor, doubts and pains,
The pleading votary to his charmer flies,
And reads his sentence in her pardoning eyes,
Soon at her feet the welcome youth is found,
And soon chaste love the gordian chaplet bound.
Oppress'd by absence, languor, doubts and pains,
The pleading votary to his charmer flies,
And reads his sentence in her pardoning eyes,
Soon at her feet the welcome youth is found,
And soon chaste love the gordian chaplet bound.
In vain the fondness of paternal care
Urged the dire evils of revolting war,
And still with many a boding sigh deplores
The armied ocean, and the bleeding shores,
Still press'd the stubborn beauty to remain
In the proud palace, and the green domain,
Of peaceful Albion's bliss-encircled isle,
Where the arts flourish, and the pleasures smile.
The enamour'd fair each social boon disdains,
Give me, she cries, the thunder of the plains,
Wide wasting famine, danger's worst alarms,
But give the shelter of my Ackland's arms:
Not all the joys luxuriant scenes afford,
The festal banquet, and the costly board,
Not the soft soothings of the caroll'd lay,
Nor strains, that charm the ravish'd sense away,
Not peace, nor wealth, nor flattery's siren art,
Shall lure me from the monarch of my heart,
Shall give my hours in pamper'd ease to rest,
Torn from his view, and exiled from his breast.—
Thus scorning ills, superior to control,
With one triumphant passion in her soul,
She dreams of bliss, unsparing war defies,
And feels her fondness with her danger rise,
Nor heeds the hovering storm, whose ruthless sway
Will bid the vision'd landscape fade away.—
—So on the bowery margin of the deep,
When all the winds, save gentle zephyr, sleep,
Delusive scenes attract the raptured eye,
Now with the waves the flocks and forests fly,
Here the gay floweret lends its ruddy hue,
And there the heavenly crystal shines with blue,
But when some flitting wing the surface sweeps,
Or some low cloud in gathering eddies weeps,
To the fond view the painted prospects die,
And flowers, and flocks, and trees, in blotted ruin lie.
Urged the dire evils of revolting war,
And still with many a boding sigh deplores
The armied ocean, and the bleeding shores,
Still press'd the stubborn beauty to remain
In the proud palace, and the green domain,
Of peaceful Albion's bliss-encircled isle,
Where the arts flourish, and the pleasures smile.
10
Give me, she cries, the thunder of the plains,
Wide wasting famine, danger's worst alarms,
But give the shelter of my Ackland's arms:
Not all the joys luxuriant scenes afford,
The festal banquet, and the costly board,
Not the soft soothings of the caroll'd lay,
Nor strains, that charm the ravish'd sense away,
Not peace, nor wealth, nor flattery's siren art,
Shall lure me from the monarch of my heart,
Shall give my hours in pamper'd ease to rest,
Torn from his view, and exiled from his breast.—
Thus scorning ills, superior to control,
With one triumphant passion in her soul,
She dreams of bliss, unsparing war defies,
And feels her fondness with her danger rise,
Nor heeds the hovering storm, whose ruthless sway
Will bid the vision'd landscape fade away.—
—So on the bowery margin of the deep,
When all the winds, save gentle zephyr, sleep,
Delusive scenes attract the raptured eye,
Now with the waves the flocks and forests fly,
11
And there the heavenly crystal shines with blue,
But when some flitting wing the surface sweeps,
Or some low cloud in gathering eddies weeps,
To the fond view the painted prospects die,
And flowers, and flocks, and trees, in blotted ruin lie.
Now o'er the waste of waters bleak and wide,
Urged by the gale, the wafting vessels glide,
Till on the clime, where sovereign winter reigns,
And floors with seas of glass the dazzling plains,
Where cold Canadia points the sharpen'd air,
Glowing with love, descend the peerless pair.—
Far to the north that wrested region lies,
Where polar tempests freeze the weeping skies,
Where giant-mountains lift their wreathless brows,
O'er tardy spring the blast of winter blows,
And brineless seas their nodding banks display
With sullen woods, that mock the solar ray:—
Beneath this clime the station'd year resigns
Her varying course, and breaks her gradual lines,
The balmy season shuns the closing shore,
And summer grasps at autumn's genial store,
No playful breeze, no mildly temper'd beam,
But fervid heat, or nature's cold extreme,
Rule the wide range—and, with alternate reign,
Pile the white clift, or fill the golden grain;
Yet on these shores a numerous race reside—
Here the red warrior towers in painted pride—
And there the blood of Gallia's captured race
Warms the brisk limbs, and tints the shaded face—
Here white-brow'd Albion's blooming offspring shine—
And there the varying, mingling colors join;—
Yet her own Lawrence rolls his fertile tide
Through villas, smiling on his pastoral side,
When with sweet breath the RUDDY SEASON glows,
And binds in chaplets green his horned brows,
Breaks his white prison with her beamy lance,
And thaws his frozen breast with melting glance,
Her waving wand by fine enchantment spreads,
And instant vegetation clothes the meads.—
Hither, while Autumn veils his showery star,
The gentle Harriet braves the breaking war,
While all those graces, that with secret sway
Compel the senses, bid the soul obey,
From the fine features flow with speaking smile,
In converse sweet the gliding hours beguile,
Give the rich scene, the letter'd lore impart,
Or fix with warbled strains the enchanted heart,
Charming by change, unsated, unalloy'd,
Ten thousand beauties in one form enjoy'd,
Impassion'd youth, it was thy fate to prove,
A hoarded treasure to thy boundless love.
Urged by the gale, the wafting vessels glide,
Till on the clime, where sovereign winter reigns,
And floors with seas of glass the dazzling plains,
Where cold Canadia points the sharpen'd air,
Glowing with love, descend the peerless pair.—
Far to the north that wrested region lies,
Where polar tempests freeze the weeping skies,
Where giant-mountains lift their wreathless brows,
O'er tardy spring the blast of winter blows,
And brineless seas their nodding banks display
With sullen woods, that mock the solar ray:—
Beneath this clime the station'd year resigns
Her varying course, and breaks her gradual lines,
12
And summer grasps at autumn's genial store,
No playful breeze, no mildly temper'd beam,
But fervid heat, or nature's cold extreme,
Rule the wide range—and, with alternate reign,
Pile the white clift, or fill the golden grain;
Yet on these shores a numerous race reside—
Here the red warrior towers in painted pride—
And there the blood of Gallia's captured race
Warms the brisk limbs, and tints the shaded face—
Here white-brow'd Albion's blooming offspring shine—
And there the varying, mingling colors join;—
Yet her own Lawrence rolls his fertile tide
Through villas, smiling on his pastoral side,
When with sweet breath the RUDDY SEASON glows,
And binds in chaplets green his horned brows,
Breaks his white prison with her beamy lance,
And thaws his frozen breast with melting glance,
Her waving wand by fine enchantment spreads,
And instant vegetation clothes the meads.—
Hither, while Autumn veils his showery star,
The gentle Harriet braves the breaking war,
13
Compel the senses, bid the soul obey,
From the fine features flow with speaking smile,
In converse sweet the gliding hours beguile,
Give the rich scene, the letter'd lore impart,
Or fix with warbled strains the enchanted heart,
Charming by change, unsated, unalloy'd,
Ten thousand beauties in one form enjoy'd,
Impassion'd youth, it was thy fate to prove,
A hoarded treasure to thy boundless love.
But coy the hope delusive fancy brings,
And the swift pleasure flies on eagle's wings;
War's rigid voice commands the soldier-train
To arch the tent, and clothe the houseless plain;
The poor pavilion of the canvas dome,
There, form'd the high-born beauty's humble home,
Who, still enrich'd by love auspicious, smiled,
And cheer'd with voice benign the wintry wild;
Till in the dreaming hour of still repose,
On her struck sense a burst of brightness flows,
Thick curling clouds of smoke the scene invade,
Impetuous flames rush through the noxious shade,
Loud, and more loud, the shouts of danger rise,
And, whirl'd in waves, the crackling current flies,
The faithful partner of her waken'd fears,
From her white couch, the breathless Harriet rears,
With stagger'd step his sheltering form displays,
And crowds undaunted through the pouring blaze,
Slow to the distant dome, with caution'd tread,
And twining arm, the trembling beauty led,
Cheer'd with kind words, with melting eyes caress'd,
And fondly folds her to his joyful breast.
And the swift pleasure flies on eagle's wings;
War's rigid voice commands the soldier-train
To arch the tent, and clothe the houseless plain;
The poor pavilion of the canvas dome,
There, form'd the high-born beauty's humble home,
Who, still enrich'd by love auspicious, smiled,
And cheer'd with voice benign the wintry wild;
Till in the dreaming hour of still repose,
On her struck sense a burst of brightness flows,
14
Impetuous flames rush through the noxious shade,
Loud, and more loud, the shouts of danger rise,
And, whirl'd in waves, the crackling current flies,
The faithful partner of her waken'd fears,
From her white couch, the breathless Harriet rears,
With stagger'd step his sheltering form displays,
And crowds undaunted through the pouring blaze,
Slow to the distant dome, with caution'd tread,
And twining arm, the trembling beauty led,
Cheer'd with kind words, with melting eyes caress'd,
And fondly folds her to his joyful breast.
Yet short the term of pleasure's golden reign,
And the loves tremble on the tented plain,
Soon from the fair the warlike Ackland flies,
And dotes on danger with impassion'd eyes,
While round his brow she wreathes the towering crest,
And clasps the gorget to his fearless breast,
Sees in his glance heroic fervors roll,
And hears the speaking ardor of his soul,
The trembling Harriet veils her pensive eyes,
Nor melts his firmness with a lover's sighs;
But when adorn'd with every martial grace,
The loyal husband quits the long embrace—
May Heaven restore thee, glorious as thou art,
To the warm shelter of this faithful heart,
Deep sigh'd the fair—while showers of sorrow flow,
In all the fond solicitude of woe;
As round her view war's threatening fantoms throng,
To peace, loved peace, she pours the plaintive song.—
Less rich was Hellen in her wealth of charms,
When for the field she braced her champion's arms,
Less soft the tear, less sweet the breath of love,
When Phrygian Paris left the child of Jove.
And the loves tremble on the tented plain,
Soon from the fair the warlike Ackland flies,
And dotes on danger with impassion'd eyes,
While round his brow she wreathes the towering crest,
And clasps the gorget to his fearless breast,
Sees in his glance heroic fervors roll,
And hears the speaking ardor of his soul,
15
Nor melts his firmness with a lover's sighs;
But when adorn'd with every martial grace,
The loyal husband quits the long embrace—
May Heaven restore thee, glorious as thou art,
To the warm shelter of this faithful heart,
Deep sigh'd the fair—while showers of sorrow flow,
In all the fond solicitude of woe;
As round her view war's threatening fantoms throng,
To peace, loved peace, she pours the plaintive song.—
Less rich was Hellen in her wealth of charms,
When for the field she braced her champion's arms,
Less soft the tear, less sweet the breath of love,
When Phrygian Paris left the child of Jove.
And now Burgoyne, Europa's laurel'd boast,
Leads and inspires his proud unconquer'd host,
Brave Frazier follows with a powerful band,
Where gloomy Hudson sweeps the indignant land,
And on his breadth of bosom deigns to bear
The flashing cannon, and the plunging spear;
Then, crown'd with every charm of youthful grace,
Majestic Ackland joins the vaunted race,
Whose helmed brows, and matchless valor, claim
The pride and bulwark of the british name—
—Where the bold clifts of haughty Behmus rise,
And cleave with dauntless brow the clouding skies,
While their brown steeps the boreal river laves,
And strips their valleys with his forceful waves,
Intrepid Gates, of Albion-armies bred,
Columbia's sons with martial conduct led.—
—From the cold glimmerings of the morning-ray,
To the red precincts of departed day,
The voice of death the shivering forest fills,
And Hudson echoes from his hundred hills.—
Hudson! the lord of many a fateful hour,
With wild, impetuous, desolating power,
To the loud battle joins his clamorous flood,
And feeds his myriads with immortal blood.—
—While either host with desperate valor burns,
And blow for blow, and death for death, returns,
To gallant GATES, in war serenely brave,
The tide of fortune turns its refluent wave;
Forced by his arm, the bold invaders yield
The prize and glory of the well-fought field;
Bleeding and lost the captured Ackland lies,
While leaden slumbers seal his Frazier's eyes;
Frazier! whose deeds unfading glories claim,
Endear'd by virtue, and adorn'd by fame—
—Where danger frowns the hapless leader flies,
And courts that death, retarding fate denies,
Still doom'd to live, and many a grief to feel,
More hard, more wounding, than the warrior's steel;
Yet o'er the brave heart-stricken mercy bends,
And wearied victory mourns her slaughter'd friends,
Defeat and anguish strew the prowess'd plain,
Here groan the wounded, and there rest the slain.—
Leads and inspires his proud unconquer'd host,
Brave Frazier follows with a powerful band,
Where gloomy Hudson sweeps the indignant land,
And on his breadth of bosom deigns to bear
The flashing cannon, and the plunging spear;
16
Majestic Ackland joins the vaunted race,
Whose helmed brows, and matchless valor, claim
The pride and bulwark of the british name—
—Where the bold clifts of haughty Behmus rise,
And cleave with dauntless brow the clouding skies,
While their brown steeps the boreal river laves,
And strips their valleys with his forceful waves,
Intrepid Gates, of Albion-armies bred,
Columbia's sons with martial conduct led.—
—From the cold glimmerings of the morning-ray,
To the red precincts of departed day,
The voice of death the shivering forest fills,
And Hudson echoes from his hundred hills.—
Hudson! the lord of many a fateful hour,
With wild, impetuous, desolating power,
To the loud battle joins his clamorous flood,
And feeds his myriads with immortal blood.—
—While either host with desperate valor burns,
And blow for blow, and death for death, returns,
To gallant GATES, in war serenely brave,
The tide of fortune turns its refluent wave;
17
The prize and glory of the well-fought field;
Bleeding and lost the captured Ackland lies,
While leaden slumbers seal his Frazier's eyes;
Frazier! whose deeds unfading glories claim,
Endear'd by virtue, and adorn'd by fame—
—Where danger frowns the hapless leader flies,
And courts that death, retarding fate denies,
Still doom'd to live, and many a grief to feel,
More hard, more wounding, than the warrior's steel;
Yet o'er the brave heart-stricken mercy bends,
And wearied victory mourns her slaughter'd friends,
Defeat and anguish strew the prowess'd plain,
Here groan the wounded, and there rest the slain.—
While buoyant FAME her lifted trump extends,
O'er fields and towns its swelling strain descends,
Credulity with gaping visage hears,
And fills the opening narrative with fears;
In giant form the growing terror flies,
Where, torn by doubts, the hapless Harriet lies,
Her busy train the dreams of rumor spread,
And fill the field with legions of the dead,
Bear to her heart, unfriended and alone,
The bleeding Ackland's supplicative groan,
Deep in a cave, scarce heaves his labouring breath,
Or sinks unsolaced in the arms of death—
Like one, just starting from the trance of sleep,
No will to murmur, and no power to weep,
Pale Harriet stood—her spreading fingers press'd
The crowded mansion of her bursting breast,
With eye upraised, and visage of despair,
Mutter'd one sentence of a broken prayer,
Then in deep silence, and determined haste,
Through the long camp and circling village pass'd.
O'er fields and towns its swelling strain descends,
Credulity with gaping visage hears,
And fills the opening narrative with fears;
In giant form the growing terror flies,
Where, torn by doubts, the hapless Harriet lies,
18
And fill the field with legions of the dead,
Bear to her heart, unfriended and alone,
The bleeding Ackland's supplicative groan,
Deep in a cave, scarce heaves his labouring breath,
Or sinks unsolaced in the arms of death—
Like one, just starting from the trance of sleep,
No will to murmur, and no power to weep,
Pale Harriet stood—her spreading fingers press'd
The crowded mansion of her bursting breast,
With eye upraised, and visage of despair,
Mutter'd one sentence of a broken prayer,
Then in deep silence, and determined haste,
Through the long camp and circling village pass'd.
'Twas now the time, when twilight's misty ray
Drops the brown curtain of retiring day,
The clouds of heaven, like midnight mountains, lower,
Waft the wild blast, and dash the drizzly shower,
Through the wet path her restless footsteps roam,
To where the leader spread his spacious dome,
Low at his feet she pours the desperate prayer—
Give my lost husband to my soothing care,
Give me, in yonder solitary cave,
With duteous love, his burning wounds to lave,
On the warm pillow, which this breast supplies,
Catch his faint breath, and close his languid eyes,
Or in his cause my proffer'd life resign;
Mine were his blessings, and his pains are mine.—
—Touch'd by her words, the wondering warrior cries,
Pride of thy sex, transcendent Harriet, rise:
Yet not for thee the pensive hope remains
With that loved voice to heal a husband's pains;
Canst thou, while winds the darkling waves deform,
Give thy bright beauties to the tossing storm?
Should the thin bark with steady caution sail,
And bear thee harmless through the driving gale,
Can that soft breast the pointed musket dare,
And risk the outrage of untrusting war?—
Yes—all that danger, all that fate can send,
O'er my fix'd mind one only hope extend,
Kind chance may turn the level'd ball aside,
And the light bark wear out the heavy tide,
Nor shall weak fears my venturous step restrain,
The frowns of terror, nor the threats of pain,
Each hour some visionary ill supplies,
And the vile coward every instant dies!—
—The generous Soldier feels her fond despair,
And yields reluctant to the frenzied prayer,
With loitering hand the letter'd leaf extends,
And to Columbia's gallant chief commends
The peerless graces, in her form display'd,
And claims his sheltering care, and active aid;
Still to her view the rash attempt portrays,
Alarms with sufferings, and allures with praise,
In vain—nor can persuasion's plausive power,
To the pain'd heart its banish'd bliss restore;
Pledged to her Ackland's fate, the faithful fair
Disdains one foreign thought, one selfish care,
Lives on his life, laments for him alone,
And to his safety consecrates her own—
—As erst the grecian bard enraptured sung,
In Nature's bloom, when wedded love was young,
The chaste Alceste, nymph divinely form'd,
By kindling charms, and mutual passion warm'd,
From his hard fate her dearer lord to save,
Resign'd her glowing graces to the grave—
Harriet as brave, as blest, as chastely kind,
With equal truth devotes her doting mind—
—Now at her will the hurried heralds fly,
Where, ranged in rows, the anchor'd vessels lie,
With proffer'd wealth, and high endowments, crave
Two hardy veterans of the bounding wave,
With skilful hand the reeling bark to guide
Down the rough road of Hudson's rapid tide,
At this dark hour with venturous courage go,
Meet the fierce storm, and brave the fiercer foe—
All stand aghast—The destined boon despise,
Nor sell existence for a paltry prize;
No duty claims, no hope of glory calls,
But, whelm'd in shame, the purchased sailor falls,
Whom gold could dazzle, and high thoughts betray,
To stem the dark, inexorable way.—
—Soon to the fair on wings of swiftness flew
The proud rejection of the adverse crew;
She hears unchanged, yet feels one hope remain,—
If the brave sons of ocean's rough domain
Will with kind ear, and pitying step repair,
And in her view reject her ardent prayer.—
Quick to her wish approach the careless band,
Meet her soft glance, and hear her fond demand:
That thrilling voice is sunk in broken sighs,
And streams of sorrow drown those beamy eyes;
Yet that in grief most eloquent appears,
Those most resistless through the veil of tears.—
—But while the plaintive pleader gently strove
The hardy race with melting voice to move,
A graceful form in calm complaisance rose,
On whose pure breast celestial hopes repose,
Whose eloquence, to moral truths confined,
To works of mercy pledged his pitying mind;
Though youth's fair morn its blooming lustre shed,
And the gay train of laughing pleasures led,
Humble and meek each rebel wish subdued,
And next to heaven he joy'd in doing good,
With kindling voice the frigid heart to warm.
And give religion's pensive brow a charm,
His pallid hand he waved with look of care,
And thus address'd the animated fair—
—Thy peerless faith the God of truth approves,
And at thy side the power of safety moves,
The viewless angels will thy passage guard,
Support such virtue, and such love reward.
Let from this arm the peaceful ensign soar,
And to this hand entrust the guiding oar,
Willing I go—The friendly flag display,
Nor dread the fiery foe, nor watery way;
My sacred garb may shield that helpless form,
My pastoral care delude the searching storm—
He ceased—And wisdom, beauty, worth combined,
Melt the hard breast, and bend the stubborn mind;
In kindly strains the stormy race reply,
And yield their safety to a woman's sigh;
Touch'd by her tears, unnumber'd voices join—
Be ours the danger, but the boon be thine,
Unbought we go, thy proffer'd gold disdain,
To meet the two-fold ruin of the main—
—Not thus Angelica, with witching art,
Charm'd to her will the fierce Orlando's heart,
When, by the tones of suppliant beauty won,
The vaunted warrior flew to be undone,
Braved every danger, baffled every fear,
Drawn by the melting magic of a tear—
No wanton hopes these ruder champions move,
No lawless beauty bears the torch of love.
Drops the brown curtain of retiring day,
The clouds of heaven, like midnight mountains, lower,
Waft the wild blast, and dash the drizzly shower,
Through the wet path her restless footsteps roam,
To where the leader spread his spacious dome,
19
Give my lost husband to my soothing care,
Give me, in yonder solitary cave,
With duteous love, his burning wounds to lave,
On the warm pillow, which this breast supplies,
Catch his faint breath, and close his languid eyes,
Or in his cause my proffer'd life resign;
Mine were his blessings, and his pains are mine.—
—Touch'd by her words, the wondering warrior cries,
Pride of thy sex, transcendent Harriet, rise:
Yet not for thee the pensive hope remains
With that loved voice to heal a husband's pains;
Canst thou, while winds the darkling waves deform,
Give thy bright beauties to the tossing storm?
Should the thin bark with steady caution sail,
And bear thee harmless through the driving gale,
Can that soft breast the pointed musket dare,
And risk the outrage of untrusting war?—
Yes—all that danger, all that fate can send,
O'er my fix'd mind one only hope extend,
Kind chance may turn the level'd ball aside,
And the light bark wear out the heavy tide,
20
The frowns of terror, nor the threats of pain,
Each hour some visionary ill supplies,
And the vile coward every instant dies!—
—The generous Soldier feels her fond despair,
And yields reluctant to the frenzied prayer,
With loitering hand the letter'd leaf extends,
And to Columbia's gallant chief commends
The peerless graces, in her form display'd,
And claims his sheltering care, and active aid;
Still to her view the rash attempt portrays,
Alarms with sufferings, and allures with praise,
In vain—nor can persuasion's plausive power,
To the pain'd heart its banish'd bliss restore;
Pledged to her Ackland's fate, the faithful fair
Disdains one foreign thought, one selfish care,
Lives on his life, laments for him alone,
And to his safety consecrates her own—
—As erst the grecian bard enraptured sung,
In Nature's bloom, when wedded love was young,
The chaste Alceste, nymph divinely form'd,
By kindling charms, and mutual passion warm'd,
21
Resign'd her glowing graces to the grave—
Harriet as brave, as blest, as chastely kind,
With equal truth devotes her doting mind—
—Now at her will the hurried heralds fly,
Where, ranged in rows, the anchor'd vessels lie,
With proffer'd wealth, and high endowments, crave
Two hardy veterans of the bounding wave,
With skilful hand the reeling bark to guide
Down the rough road of Hudson's rapid tide,
At this dark hour with venturous courage go,
Meet the fierce storm, and brave the fiercer foe—
All stand aghast—The destined boon despise,
Nor sell existence for a paltry prize;
No duty claims, no hope of glory calls,
But, whelm'd in shame, the purchased sailor falls,
Whom gold could dazzle, and high thoughts betray,
To stem the dark, inexorable way.—
—Soon to the fair on wings of swiftness flew
The proud rejection of the adverse crew;
She hears unchanged, yet feels one hope remain,—
If the brave sons of ocean's rough domain
22
And in her view reject her ardent prayer.—
Quick to her wish approach the careless band,
Meet her soft glance, and hear her fond demand:
That thrilling voice is sunk in broken sighs,
And streams of sorrow drown those beamy eyes;
Yet that in grief most eloquent appears,
Those most resistless through the veil of tears.—
—But while the plaintive pleader gently strove
The hardy race with melting voice to move,
A graceful form in calm complaisance rose,
On whose pure breast celestial hopes repose,
Whose eloquence, to moral truths confined,
To works of mercy pledged his pitying mind;
Though youth's fair morn its blooming lustre shed,
And the gay train of laughing pleasures led,
Humble and meek each rebel wish subdued,
And next to heaven he joy'd in doing good,
With kindling voice the frigid heart to warm.
And give religion's pensive brow a charm,
His pallid hand he waved with look of care,
And thus address'd the animated fair—
23
And at thy side the power of safety moves,
The viewless angels will thy passage guard,
Support such virtue, and such love reward.
Let from this arm the peaceful ensign soar,
And to this hand entrust the guiding oar,
Willing I go—The friendly flag display,
Nor dread the fiery foe, nor watery way;
My sacred garb may shield that helpless form,
My pastoral care delude the searching storm—
He ceased—And wisdom, beauty, worth combined,
Melt the hard breast, and bend the stubborn mind;
In kindly strains the stormy race reply,
And yield their safety to a woman's sigh;
Touch'd by her tears, unnumber'd voices join—
Be ours the danger, but the boon be thine,
Unbought we go, thy proffer'd gold disdain,
To meet the two-fold ruin of the main—
—Not thus Angelica, with witching art,
Charm'd to her will the fierce Orlando's heart,
When, by the tones of suppliant beauty won,
The vaunted warrior flew to be undone,
24
Drawn by the melting magic of a tear—
No wanton hopes these ruder champions move,
No lawless beauty bears the torch of love.
Now to the melancholy noon of night
The black-wing'd hours had stretch'd their rapid flight,
When with decided step, and dauntless mind,
Harriet, the softest, fairest of her kind,
Led by the God, as powerful passion moves,
With hope and fear, and added ardor, loves,
No kindred voice, with native strain, to charm
The deep's wide ruin, and the war's alarm,
At mournful midnight's solitary hour,
The fond enthusiast press'd the fearful shore;
While the steep waves in moving mountains rose,
And the chill stars their heavy eyelids close,
On her sunk head the liquid tempest fell,
And the near torrent flung its dreadful yell,
Aghast, and trembling on the rocky coast,
By the sad view in breathless terror lost,
Down her cold cheek forbidden sorrows roll,
And all the woman waken'd in her soul;
Till LOVE, more powerful, than the ruling storm,
Through the dark tumult glanced his glowing form,
Round his fair head auspicious lustres play,
And smooth a passage o'er the surgy way;
The starting Harriet rushes from the shore,
And owns the guidance of the LEADING POWER.—
—So from the coast, where old Abydos stood,
Leander ponder'd on the breaking flood,
Saw the storm thicken, and the billows rise,
Till the curved ocean met the scowling skies,
While boding fears the cavern'd deep explore,
Enamour'd fancy brought the sestian tower,
Triumphant love the warring winds defied,
And gave him guardless to the whelming tide.
The black-wing'd hours had stretch'd their rapid flight,
When with decided step, and dauntless mind,
Harriet, the softest, fairest of her kind,
Led by the God, as powerful passion moves,
With hope and fear, and added ardor, loves,
No kindred voice, with native strain, to charm
The deep's wide ruin, and the war's alarm,
At mournful midnight's solitary hour,
The fond enthusiast press'd the fearful shore;
While the steep waves in moving mountains rose,
And the chill stars their heavy eyelids close,
On her sunk head the liquid tempest fell,
And the near torrent flung its dreadful yell,
Aghast, and trembling on the rocky coast,
By the sad view in breathless terror lost,
25
And all the woman waken'd in her soul;
Till LOVE, more powerful, than the ruling storm,
Through the dark tumult glanced his glowing form,
Round his fair head auspicious lustres play,
And smooth a passage o'er the surgy way;
The starting Harriet rushes from the shore,
And owns the guidance of the LEADING POWER.—
—So from the coast, where old Abydos stood,
Leander ponder'd on the breaking flood,
Saw the storm thicken, and the billows rise,
Till the curved ocean met the scowling skies,
While boding fears the cavern'd deep explore,
Enamour'd fancy brought the sestian tower,
Triumphant love the warring winds defied,
And gave him guardless to the whelming tide.
Now swift rebounding from the sheltery shore,
The patient sailor plies the sweeping oar,
Drunk with the gale, the staggering bark is tost
On every wave, that breaks the shelving coast,
Deep on its bulk the heavy rain descends,
On every side the tottering concave bends,
Yet Heaven, regardful of the prize it bore,
Guides the weak fabric to the distant shore,
Where, at the opening mountain's shaggy swell,
Stalks the tall, hardy, watchful sentinel;
When, dark descending on his mazed sight,
Like some dull bird, that haunts the omen'd night,
Doubtful he gazed, in wrapt suspension stood,
While the full wonder wore the labouring flood,
And through the surly deep's tumultuous roar,
Glides the weak whisper of the tapering oar;
On his waked thought unnumber'd fantoms grow,
The secret treason—The recruited foe—
The quiver'd chief, whose darts unerring fly—
Or the deep purpose of the fraudful spy—
Then with strong voice, hoarse quivering through the gales,
The heaving bark, and dripping seamen, hails—
—What are ye? whither come? as foe or friend?
Who thus mysterious through the clouds descend?
Spirits? or men more damn'd, in night's attire?
Say—or this tube shall speak in words of fire.—
Borne on the blast, the lessening accents fly,
And on the drowning waves in muttering murmurs die.—
Of all unconscious—on the hostile ground
He rests—expectant of the answering sound;
When on his ear no answering sound returns,
His prudent breast with angry ardor burns,
From his fierce arm the ready tube extends,
O'er the low bark with level'd caution bends,
Quick at the touch descends the swift alarm,
And grazed the fair Adventurer's lifted arm.
Thank Heaven 'tis past, the matchless sufferer cries,
Nor in my cause the generous sailor dies!—
Then with firm mind, and trembling singers, bound
Her snowy kerchief to the humid wound;
Patient and plaintless, while, in clamorous strain,
The shouting seamen strike the echoing main,
And soon, with nervous arm, and stretching oar,
Approach the shallows of the sandy shore;
There the mild son of Heaven benignant bends,
And from his arm the suppliant flag suspends,
While the soft soothing orator resign'd,
To warm persuasion, all her powerful mind;
In vain—stern duty, with unyielding sway,
Wasts the sweet music of her lips away;
The threatening guard her lifted step restrains,
And blocks her passage to the hostile plains;
Though grieved her guiltless sufferings to behold,
By prayers unmelted, and unmoved by gold,—
Here thou must stay—with martial voice exclaims,
Till o'er yon hills the kindling morning flames,
Though grief, and cold, and beating storms assail,
Brave the strong shower, and trust the pinching gale—
She hears unanswering, uncomplaining bears
The throb of anguish, and the weight of fears,
Till, round the rising mountain's verdant way,
The pale star purples with auspicious ray,
Sacred to Venus—and to Love benign,
Dispels the storm, and bids the landscape shine;
Then from the plains, along the brightening coast,
Extends a rude, inquiring, wondering host:
Soon from the leader of the gazing band,
Flies the swift herald, and the mild command,
With distant awe, and soft protective power,
To lead the suppliant to the tented bower—
When with warm praises, and attentions kind,
The graceful pastor cheer'd her suffering mind—
—Heaven on thy face its sacred stamp displays,
Speaks from thy lips, and every heart obeys,
The sailor's roughness, and the soldier's rage,
Presuming youth, and unrelenting age,
All own the secret charm, the power divine,
Where the loves reign, and where the virtues shine—
She hears unheeding, and with thoughtful sigh
Bends on his placid brow her anxious eye.—
—Now, gently rescued from the chilling wave,
She meets the gallant CONQUEROR OF THE BRAVE,
To glorious Gates with mournful voice declares
Her pensive purpose, and her destined cares,
The feeling chief her pallid form surveys,
And looks the homage of exhaustless praise;
Till, as the fainting mourner quivering stood,
Down her white arm descends the spouting blood;
The wound, though slight, a crimson current shed,
And all the living ivory streak'd with red:
With anxious voice, and quick-inquiring eyes,
The pitying train in gather'd circles rise,
The cordial goblet to her lips impart,
And claim some votary of the healing art;
But she, regardless of all other grief,
Turn'd her slow glances on the gallant chief—
—If thou, whose breast the sighs of passion move,
E'er felt the rapture of auspicious love,
In the blest hour, when mutual ardor shone,
And thy chaste heart was fix'd on ONE alone,
Couldst from that heart its precious gem resign,
Ah, bend benignant to a prayer like mine!
To the poor hut, where wounded Ackland lies,
Lead my weak steps, and guide my searching eyes:
Me powerful love and beckoning duty bore
A willing captive to your hostile shore,
Deign to defend, and, dearer far than life,
To the brave husband give the banish'd wife.—
—The polish'd chief with soothing voice complied,
Commands the rapid car, and cautious guide,
And oft the melancholy beauty prest
To cheer the sadness of her boding breast:—
Grateful she hears, with pensive smile replies,
While doubts, and fears, and hopes, alternate rise,
Her soft, imploring eye, with upward gaze,
Rests on high Heaven, and mingles grief with praise—
—Thus some fair youth, whom cruel avarice dooms,
Mid the hard prison's solitary glooms,
To lose his days,—if generous pity see
His pleading tears, and bid the wretch go free,
And then he find the fever's raging sway
Wastes some dear friend, or cherish'd child away,
What differing passions, all to pain allied,
Shoot through his frame, his breaking heart divide;
The grateful feelings hold their kindly reign,
While heavier woes, and sharper pangs remain,
Nor desperate yet—though torn by many a care,
Looks to his God, and soothes his soul with prayer.—
The patient sailor plies the sweeping oar,
Drunk with the gale, the staggering bark is tost
On every wave, that breaks the shelving coast,
26
On every side the tottering concave bends,
Yet Heaven, regardful of the prize it bore,
Guides the weak fabric to the distant shore,
Where, at the opening mountain's shaggy swell,
Stalks the tall, hardy, watchful sentinel;
When, dark descending on his mazed sight,
Like some dull bird, that haunts the omen'd night,
Doubtful he gazed, in wrapt suspension stood,
While the full wonder wore the labouring flood,
And through the surly deep's tumultuous roar,
Glides the weak whisper of the tapering oar;
On his waked thought unnumber'd fantoms grow,
The secret treason—The recruited foe—
The quiver'd chief, whose darts unerring fly—
Or the deep purpose of the fraudful spy—
Then with strong voice, hoarse quivering through the gales,
The heaving bark, and dripping seamen, hails—
—What are ye? whither come? as foe or friend?
Who thus mysterious through the clouds descend?
Spirits? or men more damn'd, in night's attire?
Say—or this tube shall speak in words of fire.—
27
And on the drowning waves in muttering murmurs die.—
Of all unconscious—on the hostile ground
He rests—expectant of the answering sound;
When on his ear no answering sound returns,
His prudent breast with angry ardor burns,
From his fierce arm the ready tube extends,
O'er the low bark with level'd caution bends,
Quick at the touch descends the swift alarm,
And grazed the fair Adventurer's lifted arm.
Thank Heaven 'tis past, the matchless sufferer cries,
Nor in my cause the generous sailor dies!—
Then with firm mind, and trembling singers, bound
Her snowy kerchief to the humid wound;
Patient and plaintless, while, in clamorous strain,
The shouting seamen strike the echoing main,
And soon, with nervous arm, and stretching oar,
Approach the shallows of the sandy shore;
There the mild son of Heaven benignant bends,
And from his arm the suppliant flag suspends,
While the soft soothing orator resign'd,
To warm persuasion, all her powerful mind;
28
Wasts the sweet music of her lips away;
The threatening guard her lifted step restrains,
And blocks her passage to the hostile plains;
Though grieved her guiltless sufferings to behold,
By prayers unmelted, and unmoved by gold,—
Here thou must stay—with martial voice exclaims,
Till o'er yon hills the kindling morning flames,
Though grief, and cold, and beating storms assail,
Brave the strong shower, and trust the pinching gale—
She hears unanswering, uncomplaining bears
The throb of anguish, and the weight of fears,
Till, round the rising mountain's verdant way,
The pale star purples with auspicious ray,
Sacred to Venus—and to Love benign,
Dispels the storm, and bids the landscape shine;
Then from the plains, along the brightening coast,
Extends a rude, inquiring, wondering host:
Soon from the leader of the gazing band,
Flies the swift herald, and the mild command,
With distant awe, and soft protective power,
To lead the suppliant to the tented bower—
29
The graceful pastor cheer'd her suffering mind—
—Heaven on thy face its sacred stamp displays,
Speaks from thy lips, and every heart obeys,
The sailor's roughness, and the soldier's rage,
Presuming youth, and unrelenting age,
All own the secret charm, the power divine,
Where the loves reign, and where the virtues shine—
She hears unheeding, and with thoughtful sigh
Bends on his placid brow her anxious eye.—
—Now, gently rescued from the chilling wave,
She meets the gallant CONQUEROR OF THE BRAVE,
To glorious Gates with mournful voice declares
Her pensive purpose, and her destined cares,
The feeling chief her pallid form surveys,
And looks the homage of exhaustless praise;
Till, as the fainting mourner quivering stood,
Down her white arm descends the spouting blood;
The wound, though slight, a crimson current shed,
And all the living ivory streak'd with red:
With anxious voice, and quick-inquiring eyes,
The pitying train in gather'd circles rise,
30
And claim some votary of the healing art;
But she, regardless of all other grief,
Turn'd her slow glances on the gallant chief—
—If thou, whose breast the sighs of passion move,
E'er felt the rapture of auspicious love,
In the blest hour, when mutual ardor shone,
And thy chaste heart was fix'd on ONE alone,
Couldst from that heart its precious gem resign,
Ah, bend benignant to a prayer like mine!
To the poor hut, where wounded Ackland lies,
Lead my weak steps, and guide my searching eyes:
Me powerful love and beckoning duty bore
A willing captive to your hostile shore,
Deign to defend, and, dearer far than life,
To the brave husband give the banish'd wife.—
—The polish'd chief with soothing voice complied,
Commands the rapid car, and cautious guide,
And oft the melancholy beauty prest
To cheer the sadness of her boding breast:—
Grateful she hears, with pensive smile replies,
While doubts, and fears, and hopes, alternate rise,
31
Rests on high Heaven, and mingles grief with praise—
—Thus some fair youth, whom cruel avarice dooms,
Mid the hard prison's solitary glooms,
To lose his days,—if generous pity see
His pleading tears, and bid the wretch go free,
And then he find the fever's raging sway
Wastes some dear friend, or cherish'd child away,
What differing passions, all to pain allied,
Shoot through his frame, his breaking heart divide;
The grateful feelings hold their kindly reign,
While heavier woes, and sharper pangs remain,
Nor desperate yet—though torn by many a care,
Looks to his God, and soothes his soul with prayer.—
While now, illumined by the lord of day,
The lovely wanderer bends her destined way,
Winds the rough hill, and gains the level lawn,
To where the crescent spread its crooked horn;
There the grey hut, whose crumbling roof displays
The nested bird, cold shower, or solar rays,
Extends its shaggy sides, and shelving form,
To meet the tottering gale, and breaking storm,
There, on his bed of straw supinely thrown,
The sinking Ackland breathes his feeble moan,
Each gasping wound with ruddy mouth complains
Of parching fevers, and convulsive pains,
Unseen, unknown, he lifts his asking eyes,
No answering look, no kindred voice, replies,
Till his own Harriet, with reclining knee,
Like some fair, hovering, guardian deity,
His thirsty lip with nectar'd kisses prest,
And clung enamour'd round his burning breast—
One moment clung—In transport's wild excess,
With speechless, powerless, painful happiness—
When, starting sudden from the iron bed,
Swathed with light touch his anguish-darting head,
O'er the torn torture of each throbbing wound
The downy lint, and restful opiate, bound;
Her aiding hand the luscious draught prepares,
Mix'd with nice art, and urged with graceful cares;
Then, gently bending o'er the drowsy pain,
Pours the low warble of a seraph's strain,
Whose soften'd notes invoke the poppy'd power,
Coy charmer of the pain-encircled bower—
—Thus in the stormy centre of the wood,
The parent linnet cheers her darling brood,
Folds her warm wing around the narrow nest,
And gives the shelter of her matron breast,
To them alone her cautious care extends,
While on her head the rattling blast descends,
Patient, unmindful, as it whirls along,
Charms the cold twilight with her plaintive song.
The lovely wanderer bends her destined way,
Winds the rough hill, and gains the level lawn,
To where the crescent spread its crooked horn;
There the grey hut, whose crumbling roof displays
The nested bird, cold shower, or solar rays,
32
To meet the tottering gale, and breaking storm,
There, on his bed of straw supinely thrown,
The sinking Ackland breathes his feeble moan,
Each gasping wound with ruddy mouth complains
Of parching fevers, and convulsive pains,
Unseen, unknown, he lifts his asking eyes,
No answering look, no kindred voice, replies,
Till his own Harriet, with reclining knee,
Like some fair, hovering, guardian deity,
His thirsty lip with nectar'd kisses prest,
And clung enamour'd round his burning breast—
One moment clung—In transport's wild excess,
With speechless, powerless, painful happiness—
When, starting sudden from the iron bed,
Swathed with light touch his anguish-darting head,
O'er the torn torture of each throbbing wound
The downy lint, and restful opiate, bound;
Her aiding hand the luscious draught prepares,
Mix'd with nice art, and urged with graceful cares;
Then, gently bending o'er the drowsy pain,
Pours the low warble of a seraph's strain,
33
Coy charmer of the pain-encircled bower—
—Thus in the stormy centre of the wood,
The parent linnet cheers her darling brood,
Folds her warm wing around the narrow nest,
And gives the shelter of her matron breast,
To them alone her cautious care extends,
While on her head the rattling blast descends,
Patient, unmindful, as it whirls along,
Charms the cold twilight with her plaintive song.
Each humble office, that the servile poor,
Born to subjection, tutor'd to endure,
With pain perform—sweet Harriet now is thine:
That soul of elegance, that form divine,
Rear'd in the pride, that wealth and honor bring,
Couch'd on the downy Eider's silvery wing,
Curtain'd in silk, with costly care array'd,
And e'en of Titan's glowing glance afraid,
That form, in ease and titled splendor bred,
On the hard ground its nightly pillow spread,
Shared the cold morsel with submissive cheer,
And smiled contentment through a lucid tear.—
Thine was the triumph, LOVE, whose charms pervade
The ermined palace, and the russet shade,
Can the sharp throb of wounding pain beguile,
And lend the face of poverty a smile;
Deprived of thee, in vain the sportive spring
Flings fragrance from his pleasure-wasting wing,
And vain the bow of heaven, with promise fair,
Lights its rich coloring on the tintless air,
As vain the tastely festivals abound,
And heavenly music swells its sacred sound,
In vain amid Bermuda's balmy isles,
And fanning palms, the nymph Enjoyment smiles;
Each SENSE, each gift, that blended life can boast,
Without thy heart-felt sympathy is lost!
Born to subjection, tutor'd to endure,
With pain perform—sweet Harriet now is thine:
That soul of elegance, that form divine,
Rear'd in the pride, that wealth and honor bring,
Couch'd on the downy Eider's silvery wing,
Curtain'd in silk, with costly care array'd,
And e'en of Titan's glowing glance afraid,
That form, in ease and titled splendor bred,
On the hard ground its nightly pillow spread,
34
And smiled contentment through a lucid tear.—
Thine was the triumph, LOVE, whose charms pervade
The ermined palace, and the russet shade,
Can the sharp throb of wounding pain beguile,
And lend the face of poverty a smile;
Deprived of thee, in vain the sportive spring
Flings fragrance from his pleasure-wasting wing,
And vain the bow of heaven, with promise fair,
Lights its rich coloring on the tintless air,
As vain the tastely festivals abound,
And heavenly music swells its sacred sound,
In vain amid Bermuda's balmy isles,
And fanning palms, the nymph Enjoyment smiles;
Each SENSE, each gift, that blended life can boast,
Without thy heart-felt sympathy is lost!
Now by kind care, and bliss-inspiring love,
The healing hours each lingering pain remove;
His plumy helm impatient Ackland rears,
And the loud drum with beating bosom hears,
Through his thrill'd nerves the tepid currents flow,
And on his lip hygean roses blow,
To his dark eye the humid tint returns,
Whose heavenly ray with shaded softness burns,
His ample front luxuriant curls surround,
And his light limbs with martial vigor bound—
With passion'd voice his Harriet's care displays—
—Source of my health, and solace of my days,
Thou faultless model of connubial truth,
Thou calm protectress of my stormy youth,
Thy will shall guide, thy ruling wish control,
The devious passions of my conquer'd soul,
Shall, with the magnet's fine attractive sway,
Through life's wild waves direct my dangerous way;
That brilliant form forsook its worship'd height,
O'er my dark fate, to shed celestial light,
And, like some rosy inmate of the skies,
To the cold couch of bloodless anguish flies,
With balmy touch electric health bestows,
Till the strung heart with new pulsation glows;
This life is thine, while in its throbbing veins
The feeling nerve, and generous heat, remains.—
—Thus, when in war's red arms Æneas lay,
And seem'd to breathe his heaving soul away,
Before his view the sea-sprung Venus stood,
And swathed with heavenly hand the clotted blood,
With whisper'd sighs departing life restrains,
And with immortal nectar charms his pains,
The rescued chief by treasured love repays
The life he owes, and pours his soul in praise.
The healing hours each lingering pain remove;
His plumy helm impatient Ackland rears,
And the loud drum with beating bosom hears,
35
And on his lip hygean roses blow,
To his dark eye the humid tint returns,
Whose heavenly ray with shaded softness burns,
His ample front luxuriant curls surround,
And his light limbs with martial vigor bound—
With passion'd voice his Harriet's care displays—
—Source of my health, and solace of my days,
Thou faultless model of connubial truth,
Thou calm protectress of my stormy youth,
Thy will shall guide, thy ruling wish control,
The devious passions of my conquer'd soul,
Shall, with the magnet's fine attractive sway,
Through life's wild waves direct my dangerous way;
That brilliant form forsook its worship'd height,
O'er my dark fate, to shed celestial light,
And, like some rosy inmate of the skies,
To the cold couch of bloodless anguish flies,
With balmy touch electric health bestows,
Till the strung heart with new pulsation glows;
This life is thine, while in its throbbing veins
The feeling nerve, and generous heat, remains.—
36
And seem'd to breathe his heaving soul away,
Before his view the sea-sprung Venus stood,
And swathed with heavenly hand the clotted blood,
With whisper'd sighs departing life restrains,
And with immortal nectar charms his pains,
The rescued chief by treasured love repays
The life he owes, and pours his soul in praise.
And now the long-invited moment brings
Auspicious freedom on its welcome wings;
The graceful captives quit the hostile plain,
And joyful join their dear associate train,
To the proud bark with glowing hearts repair,
And blooming Britain hails the PEERLESS FAIR.
Auspicious freedom on its welcome wings;
The graceful captives quit the hostile plain,
And joyful join their dear associate train,
To the proud bark with glowing hearts repair,
And blooming Britain hails the PEERLESS FAIR.
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