 | [Poems by Smith in] The Echo |  |
889
THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT.
AN ODE; For the BIRTH-DAY of the PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES.
Oft has the Poet's venal song,Correctly mean, and elegantly low,
Told the false plaudits of the courtly throng,
And wak'd a smile on guilty Grandeur's brow.
But here hath Virtue's guardian hand
Torn from the Syren, Adulation's power
The Man, whose praise—the voice of every land—
Hangs on the lips of every parting hour.
Here, can no Poet's venal song
Echo the praises of a courtly throng;
Nor the poor wealth of many a powerful State,
Buy a new honor for the truly great:
For here, the Muse's noblest lays
But speak a Nation's answering praise;
And here, can heaven-descended verse
Nought but the glories of his name rehearse.
Daughter of Heaven! awake the enobling lyre!
Breathe thy full influence; every cord inspire;
Exalt the soul to dignity of song;
Swell every note, and every strain prolong.
The answering Spirit trembles o'er the strings;
Things, more than earthly, dance before my sight;
Hark! with her voice the empyrean rings;
The Past, lies all reveal'd; the Future lives in light.
“The voice of Horror echoes far;
“Responds, the direful whoop of war;
“Thunders, the mighty tube of death;
“The knife red gleams upon the heath;
“Groans load the air, shrieks rend the skies;
“The crimson standard wildly flies;
“Impatient slaughter loudly calls;
“The Chief of Tho'tless Valor falls.
“'Gainst all the terrors of the field,
“The Chief of Virtue rears his shield;
“Secure, the train diminish'd move;
“And weeping Britain smiles in love.
890
“With dire Oppression strong allied,
“Hangs o'er the land—and wakes the storm;
“And swells, of deep calamity; the tide.
“See, in their train Destruction stalk;
“And Giant Vengeance threatening walk;
“And red-clad Envy ride the empoison'd gale;
“And jealous Grandeur spread the impatient sail.
“Greatly inspir'd, his country lifts her voice—
“See Danger trembles at his awful name;
“Tyrant Oppression views her fainting flame;
“And gasping Freedom breathes but to rejoice.
“Dark o'er the field of Liberty and Right,
“Of sad Dismay, hangs low the deepen'd gloom:
“Wide spreads the flash of Trenton's bloody light;
“And Freedom, glorying, rises from the tomb.
“Strong in himself—he scatters wide the storm;
“Calms the wild raging of the troubled tide;
“O'erthrows Destruction; Vengeance joins his side;
“And Envy kneels in Adoration's form.
“Lin'd with red Hosts the ramparts shine;
“Oppos'd, the brother armies join;
“The brazen Thunders ope their throats;
“On all the air the Tempest floats:
“Their Captives guarded, see the bands retire,
“And jealous Grandeur at the view expire.
“His Country sav'd, o'er Cincinnatus great,
“He tills the soil, and guides the arts of Peace.
“But see! new Glory bursts the womb of Fate!
“New toils demand him from the promis'd case!
“The voice of millions lift him o'er the realm
“Which once his valor from oppression freed;
“Powerful in virtue, now he rules the helm—
“In War—in Peace—the blest of Heaven succeed.
“O born to grace and dignify mankind!
“Years long await thee—Time himself shall stay
“Till thou hast op'd, resplendent on the mind,
“Th' immortal brightness of the moral day.
“Tis thine to spread new virtue o'er the Earth;
“To breathe the soul of liberty in man;
“To brace Creation to a glorious birth;
“And charm Perfection to complete the Plan.”
Favor'd of Heaven! the Muse in rapture faints,
Thy grateful country strives, in vain, to sing;
The Earth uplifts her hands in joy—the Saints
Respond in Peans to each speaking string.
“Long may'st thou live”—the Soul of Nature cries—
“Greatest of Mortals—Favorite of the Skies.”
ELLA.
891
SONNET I.
Sent to Miss --- ---, with a Braid of Hair.
Fair shews the rose, but soon its beauty fades,
And soon its balmy-breathing fragrance fails;
The downy peach, sweet pear, DECAY assails,
And clustered purples of the vine invades.
And soon its balmy-breathing fragrance fails;
The downy peach, sweet pear, DECAY assails,
And clustered purples of the vine invades.
Nor does alone the vegetative realm
Feel the destroyer's over-bearing power;
He joys in ruin, cities to o'erwhelm,
To shake the column, and to sink the tower.
Feel the destroyer's over-bearing power;
He joys in ruin, cities to o'erwhelm,
To shake the column, and to sink the tower.
Nor yet can Beauty, radiant as the morn,
Escape his wrath. The rosy cheek he pales;
O'er all the lily of the skin prevails;
And flowing honors that the head adorn.
The soul, refined in sentiment and truth,
Derides his power, and smiles eternal youth.
Escape his wrath. The rosy cheek he pales;
O'er all the lily of the skin prevails;
And flowing honors that the head adorn.
The soul, refined in sentiment and truth,
Derides his power, and smiles eternal youth.
ELLA.
SONNET II.
Sent to Mrs. --- ---, with a Song.
Blest is the Poet if his songs can raise
Some kindred genius that will catch the fire,
With answering notes awake the trembling lyre,
And give to far posterity his praise.
Some kindred genius that will catch the fire,
With answering notes awake the trembling lyre,
And give to far posterity his praise.
Yet double pleasure fills his aged days,
If chance, responsive to his fond desire,
While from the lips of youth the notes aspire,
In the warm breast the flame of virtue blaze.
If chance, responsive to his fond desire,
While from the lips of youth the notes aspire,
In the warm breast the flame of virtue blaze.
And still a greater pleasure, should he spy
That while from Virtue's breast the music flows,
Caught by the song, the voice, the speaking eye,
In every heart the illustrious purpose glows.
Even he, the Poet, nobler worth should warm
By virtue, greatly rous'd, in ---'s form.
That while from Virtue's breast the music flows,
Caught by the song, the voice, the speaking eye,
In every heart the illustrious purpose glows.
Even he, the Poet, nobler worth should warm
By virtue, greatly rous'd, in ---'s form.
ELLA.
892
SONNET III.
Sent to Miss. --- ---,
Now o'er the world hath sober Evening spread
Her ebon-tinctured veil—the stars appear—
The smiling Moon in mildest beauty clear,
As on my hand I press my pensive head.
Her ebon-tinctured veil—the stars appear—
The smiling Moon in mildest beauty clear,
As on my hand I press my pensive head.
While not on earth is heard one echoing tread,
Look thro' the Southern uprais'd window near.
Down on my cheek tear courses after tear—
I think on absent friends, on pleasures fled.
Look thro' the Southern uprais'd window near.
Down on my cheek tear courses after tear—
I think on absent friends, on pleasures fled.
Now all their actions living in my sight
Awake new, mournful, pleasures in my soul,
And each memento gives a fresh delight.
Do not such joys my fair one's mind controul?
They do—I see th' assenting tear descend—
And she will love this trifle for the friend.
Awake new, mournful, pleasures in my soul,
And each memento gives a fresh delight.
Do not such joys my fair one's mind controul?
They do—I see th' assenting tear descend—
And she will love this trifle for the friend.
ELLA.
893
ODE.
TO BIRTHA.
Poor, and unknown, a stranger to the great,
While now, with holy veneration deep inspir'd,
To Him, whose virtue glads the extending state,
Wak'd by the voice of Truth, my soul to song is fir'd.
While now, with holy veneration deep inspir'd,
To Him, whose virtue glads the extending state,
Wak'd by the voice of Truth, my soul to song is fir'd.
And now, while Friendship, trembling o'er the strings,
Breathes on the lyre unutterable things,
And steals its ancient, and neglected store:
Hark! o'er the wild-resounding air,
What music floats, in varied numbers near,
And winds, in wildering echoes, down the dashing shore!
Breathes on the lyre unutterable things,
And steals its ancient, and neglected store:
Hark! o'er the wild-resounding air,
What music floats, in varied numbers near,
And winds, in wildering echoes, down the dashing shore!
Again, in full, deep sounds, it loads the swelling gale;
And now, it softly undulates the breeze;
And now, a small, still voice, the notes my soul assail,
With calm delight responsive; now they seize,
In bolder swellings, on the impassion'd mind,
That feels its different powers refin'd,
As now, with many a slowly-solemn pause, they fail.
And now, it softly undulates the breeze;
And now, a small, still voice, the notes my soul assail,
With calm delight responsive; now they seize,
In bolder swellings, on the impassion'd mind,
That feels its different powers refin'd,
As now, with many a slowly-solemn pause, they fail.
O Thou, whose fingers from the answering lyre
Draw sounds so flattering to the Youth of Song,
Deep from my soul the grateful sighs aspire,
That hail the enjoyment which they would prolong.
Draw sounds so flattering to the Youth of Song,
Deep from my soul the grateful sighs aspire,
That hail the enjoyment which they would prolong.
894
Life hath trifling joys to give;
Not in Life doth pleasure live;
Tomb of pleasure, tomb of joy,
Ever anxious to destroy:
Not in Life doth pleasure live;
Tomb of pleasure, tomb of joy,
Ever anxious to destroy:
Shrouding in thy narrow space
Every virtue, every grace.
Tyrant! soon thy reign is o'er,
Radiant glory bursts thy door.
Every virtue, every grace.
Tyrant! soon thy reign is o'er,
Radiant glory bursts thy door.
Love, who all thy power defies,
Rising, mingles with the skies.
Now, even now, I scorn thy wrath—
Glory brightens round my path.
Rising, mingles with the skies.
Now, even now, I scorn thy wrath—
Glory brightens round my path.
Now thy yawning gates unfold,
While the powerful charm is told.
See, my soul, in fancy rise—
BIRTHA, seraph, opes the skies.
While the powerful charm is told.
See, my soul, in fancy rise—
BIRTHA, seraph, opes the skies.
ELLA.
SONNET IV.
A down the melancholy stream of life
Who joys the vessel of his Years to guide?
Nor fears the roarings of th' incertain tide,
The inclement Winter, or the Ocean's strife?
Who joys the vessel of his Years to guide?
Nor fears the roarings of th' incertain tide,
The inclement Winter, or the Ocean's strife?
And who, regardful of his certain end,
Can bear the incessant struggles of his Youth;
Force thro enticement to an age of truth;
And welcome Death as freely as his friend?
Can bear the incessant struggles of his Youth;
Force thro enticement to an age of truth;
And welcome Death as freely as his friend?
Who, that when Poverty's torpedo hand
Has chill'd even Charity's soft-answering soul;
When green-eyed Malice hunts him thro the land,
Can smile serene, superior to the whole?
He, who the paths of Rectitude has trod—
His friends—his life, his conscience, and his God.
Has chill'd even Charity's soft-answering soul;
When green-eyed Malice hunts him thro the land,
Can smile serene, superior to the whole?
He, who the paths of Rectitude has trod—
His friends—his life, his conscience, and his God.
ELLA.
898
SONNET, V.
“Say, what is Life?” the sons of sorrow cry—
“Is it to breathe a lingering age of woe
“In vegetative being here below?
“To eat, to drink, to sleep, and then—to die?”
“Is it to breathe a lingering age of woe
“In vegetative being here below?
“To eat, to drink, to sleep, and then—to die?”
“Is it in Pleasure's airy rounds to fly?
“To laugh, to dance?”—the souls of Joy would know—
“To plunge in lewdness, and no care bestow
“On what may greatly fit us for the sky?”
“To laugh, to dance?”—the souls of Joy would know—
“To plunge in lewdness, and no care bestow
“On what may greatly fit us for the sky?”
No.—Tis the Twilight of a heavenly Day,
Whose radiant glories opening on the Soul,
Shall raise, and bear it, from itself away,
Far o'er the bounds of this terrestrial pole,
Wak'd to new rapture by the living lay,
Where GOD informs the immeasurable whole.
Whose radiant glories opening on the Soul,
Shall raise, and bear it, from itself away,
Far o'er the bounds of this terrestrial pole,
Wak'd to new rapture by the living lay,
Where GOD informs the immeasurable whole.
ELLA.
SONNET VI.
TO EGWINA.
Go verse, soft-whispering, to Egwina say—
'Tis not that rich complexion's lucent white,
Tinged with the Rose's fragrance-blushing light,
O'er all her lovely features loves to stray;
'Tis not that rich complexion's lucent white,
Tinged with the Rose's fragrance-blushing light,
O'er all her lovely features loves to stray;
Nor yet, that Nature, with a fond display,
Hath spread her auburn tresses on the sight,
And fram'd her lips the seal of sweet delight,
And op'd her eyes resplendent on the day;
Hath spread her auburn tresses on the sight,
And fram'd her lips the seal of sweet delight,
And op'd her eyes resplendent on the day;
Tell her 'tis not, that o'er each motion, Grace
Sheds a soft lustre, as she deigns to move,
Giving new beauties to the ambient place;
That every tho't, and all my soul, is love.
But, that her mind, its radiant worth to prove,
Imprints the soul of Beauty on her Face.
Sheds a soft lustre, as she deigns to move,
Giving new beauties to the ambient place;
That every tho't, and all my soul, is love.
But, that her mind, its radiant worth to prove,
Imprints the soul of Beauty on her Face.
ELLA.
899
ODE TO BIRTHA.
Soft o'er my soul the voice of music breathes,
Waking the sympathies which thrill delight.
The Mental Spirit hails seraphic light
Heavenly Visions fill the sight.
Glory hangs immortal wreaths;
Joy the Harp divine unsheaths;
Echo answering as it rings,
Female Virtue strikes the strings.
Waking the sympathies which thrill delight.
The Mental Spirit hails seraphic light
Heavenly Visions fill the sight.
Glory hangs immortal wreaths;
Joy the Harp divine unsheaths;
Echo answering as it rings,
Female Virtue strikes the strings.
Nearly allied the trembling Passions live:
And all the Emotions of the human mind,
In mystic bands united, fondly give
Mingling responses, tremulously join'd.
Now tranquil Pleasure softly moves along.
Touching the cord to which mild Melancholy's voice,
In answers low, awakes the sigh-exciting song,
Making sweet Pity's tear-suffused eyes rejoice,
As now, in awful tho't sublime,
She sees the immortal Spirit triumph over Time.
And all the Emotions of the human mind,
In mystic bands united, fondly give
Mingling responses, tremulously join'd.
Now tranquil Pleasure softly moves along.
Touching the cord to which mild Melancholy's voice,
In answers low, awakes the sigh-exciting song,
Making sweet Pity's tear-suffused eyes rejoice,
As now, in awful tho't sublime,
She sees the immortal Spirit triumph over Time.
O Thou whose soul, responsive, wakes the lyrel
Throw off, of gorgeous praise, the rich attire,
And, with united labours, let us toil,
To raise the mind to energy of tho't;
To bid Morality attractive smile;
And deep impress what Heaven itself hath taught.
Throw off, of gorgeous praise, the rich attire,
And, with united labours, let us toil,
To raise the mind to energy of tho't;
To bid Morality attractive smile;
And deep impress what Heaven itself hath taught.
O let us strive, with union'd hearts sincere;
To form the patriot soul to deed severe;
To draw the sympathetic tear;
To bid of love the generous transports glow;
The ennobling warmth of friendship flow;
And kind compassion's hand
In extacy expand,
To soothe Misfortune's woe.
To form the patriot soul to deed severe;
To draw the sympathetic tear;
To bid of love the generous transports glow;
The ennobling warmth of friendship flow;
And kind compassion's hand
In extacy expand,
To soothe Misfortune's woe.
O let us wake the Imaginative Powers
Whose smiles give pleasure to the passing hours;
Whose kind progression weans the heart
From earth, and all its low concerns,
And bids it, anxious, wish that better part,
That home, for which the immortal Spirit yearns;
Which draws it, sweetly, from this sad abode,
To Heaven, to Happiness, to GOD.
Whose smiles give pleasure to the passing hours;
Whose kind progression weans the heart
From earth, and all its low concerns,
And bids it, anxious, wish that better part,
That home, for which the immortal Spirit yearns;
Which draws it, sweetly, from this sad abode,
To Heaven, to Happiness, to GOD.
This be our praise—That Virtue, Truth, inspire;
And Human Bliss, breathes o'er the echoing lyre.
And Human Bliss, breathes o'er the echoing lyre.
ELLA.
900
SONNET,
Written after hearing a SONG sung by several SISTERS.
Hark!—hear'st thou not the sweetly swelling strain
Of warbled music float along the air?
Soft are the sounds,—the Sister band how fair!
How high flies rapture when it springs from P*yn*.
Of warbled music float along the air?
Soft are the sounds,—the Sister band how fair!
How high flies rapture when it springs from P*yn*.
So round the lyre the heavenly Mutes stand,
And charm the changing soul with varied joy;
So Ella's lays the feeling heart command,
And faintly hide Apollo in the boy.
And charm the changing soul with varied joy;
So Ella's lays the feeling heart command,
And faintly hide Apollo in the boy.
Hail charming group! for you shall Fancy rise,
To you young Love his earliest homage pay;
And while our souls on softened slav'ry stray,
Your Minds preserve the conquests of your Eyes;
Till ripe you fall, as Heaven and Fame approve,
From Beauty's branch, into the lap of Love.
To you young Love his earliest homage pay;
And while our souls on softened slav'ry stray,
Your Minds preserve the conquests of your Eyes;
Till ripe you fall, as Heaven and Fame approve,
From Beauty's branch, into the lap of Love.
HENRY.
SONNET, VII.
TO THE SUN.
Hail Son of Morning! thou, whose orient Smile,
While now the dew-drop twinkles on the rose.
And richest fragrance o'er the champaign flows,
Awakes the slumbering laborer's daily toil.
While now the dew-drop twinkles on the rose.
And richest fragrance o'er the champaign flows,
Awakes the slumbering laborer's daily toil.
Do e'er thy ruddy splendors gild the pile,
As o'er the earth their circling glory glows,
Where modest Virtue's unseen hand bestows
Joys that the cares of Misery oft beguile?
As o'er the earth their circling glory glows,
Where modest Virtue's unseen hand bestows
Joys that the cares of Misery oft beguile?
O! if thou dost,—to that sweet cherub say—
‘Tho Time, dim-sighted, overlook thy worth;
‘Tho Fame shall fail thy merit to display;
‘Nor glory deck thee, hallow'd of the earth;
‘Yet thou shalt shine in GOD's eternal day—
‘The heir immortal of a heavenly birth.
‘Tho Time, dim-sighted, overlook thy worth;
‘Tho Fame shall fail thy merit to display;
‘Nor glory deck thee, hallow'd of the earth;
‘Yet thou shalt shine in GOD's eternal day—
‘The heir immortal of a heavenly birth.
ELLA.
901
ODE TO HENRY.
What bliss the voice of Music gives,
While transport in the bosom lives,
While virtue, borne on every sound,
Spreads love and happiness around!
The Soul in purer vision sees
The ills of human life retire;
And Adoration loads the breeze,
With praises that to Heaven aspire.
While transport in the bosom lives,
While virtue, borne on every sound,
Spreads love and happiness around!
The Soul in purer vision sees
The ills of human life retire;
And Adoration loads the breeze,
With praises that to Heaven aspire.
How few the happy power possess
The sympathizing heart to bless
With pictures of ideal joy,
Which strengthen virtue, not destroy!
They are the Muse's favorite care;
Perfection thro' their souls she breathes;
And crowns them, fairest of the fair,
With Glory's never-fading wreaths.
The sympathizing heart to bless
With pictures of ideal joy,
Which strengthen virtue, not destroy!
They are the Muse's favorite care;
Perfection thro' their souls she breathes;
And crowns them, fairest of the fair,
With Glory's never-fading wreaths.
And He whose song their voice inspires
With holy Pleasure's warm desires;
With power the trembling lyre to move
To accents of immortal love;
Shall, robed in modest merit, shine
His country's wonder, and its praise;
While, bending at her moral shrine,
To Truth he consecrates his lays.
With holy Pleasure's warm desires;
With power the trembling lyre to move
To accents of immortal love;
Shall, robed in modest merit, shine
His country's wonder, and its praise;
While, bending at her moral shrine,
To Truth he consecrates his lays.
Him shall the love of nations hail,
Born o'er Oppression to prevail;
Virtue's own hand shall round his tomb
Twine circlets of immortal bloom;
The Loves eternal incense burn;
The Muses there the Lyre shall place;
And Glory shall the simple urn
With Henry's name, in transport, grace.
Born o'er Oppression to prevail;
Virtue's own hand shall round his tomb
Twine circlets of immortal bloom;
The Loves eternal incense burn;
The Muses there the Lyre shall place;
And Glory shall the simple urn
With Henry's name, in transport, grace.
ELLA.
902
SONNET VIII.
TO THE MOON.
Bend from thy throne fair Empress of the Night,
And as thou look'st o'er earth with eye serene,
Marking thy shadowy paintings on the green,
And brightening Heaven with silver-streaming light—
And as thou look'st o'er earth with eye serene,
Marking thy shadowy paintings on the green,
And brightening Heaven with silver-streaming light—
O! if in all thy course, divinely bright,
Thou see'st one wretch, in felon malice mean,
Debase the varied beauty of the scene;
Or one fell murtherer burst the bands of right;
Thou see'st one wretch, in felon malice mean,
Debase the varied beauty of the scene;
Or one fell murtherer burst the bands of right;
Dart thro' his soul, severely bright, a ray
Whose living splendor shall his hand arrest;
And to his guilty-conscious spirit say—
‘Tho thou may'st live unknown to Law's behest,
‘And hide thy deeds from mortals, and the day—
‘Yet Conscience' worm shall rankle in thy breast.’
Whose living splendor shall his hand arrest;
And to his guilty-conscious spirit say—
‘Tho thou may'st live unknown to Law's behest,
‘And hide thy deeds from mortals, and the day—
‘Yet Conscience' worm shall rankle in thy breast.’
ELLA.
904
TO ELLA.
Alighted from the azure sky,
A Seraph stood before my sight,
And checked awhile the anxious sigh,
And pointed to the Realms of Light.
A Seraph stood before my sight,
And checked awhile the anxious sigh,
And pointed to the Realms of Light.
Celestial Youth his Features fired,
His Eye the Breast with Hope inspired,
Virtue's own Hand his Temples crown'd,
And Glory shed her Day around.
'Twas Ella!—wrapt in awe I stood,
And thrill'd with joy the Vision viewed.
Soft as the gentlest shower descends,
His soothing accents flowed,
And, winding thro' the maze of Song,
In playful eddies poured along,
Till Nature sighing—sinking bends,
And Life a pause bestowed.
His Eye the Breast with Hope inspired,
Virtue's own Hand his Temples crown'd,
And Glory shed her Day around.
'Twas Ella!—wrapt in awe I stood,
And thrill'd with joy the Vision viewed.
Soft as the gentlest shower descends,
His soothing accents flowed,
And, winding thro' the maze of Song,
In playful eddies poured along,
Till Nature sighing—sinking bends,
And Life a pause bestowed.
Cease, Ella, cease thy 'witching Song,
Nor lure me from the earthly throng;
Too frail to shine in Virtue's Train,
Too weak to wake the heavenly Strain,
In vain with borrowed Art I soar,
For fickle Fancy smiles no more.
The feeble Meteor's transient blaze
Unnoted sinks in Night;
But Nature lives in Sol's bright Rays,
And Nations bless his Light.
Nor lure me from the earthly throng;
Too frail to shine in Virtue's Train,
Too weak to wake the heavenly Strain,
In vain with borrowed Art I soar,
For fickle Fancy smiles no more.
The feeble Meteor's transient blaze
Unnoted sinks in Night;
But Nature lives in Sol's bright Rays,
And Nations bless his Light.
HENRY.
ODE TO BIRTHA.
And does disease thy bosom grieve?
O had I known it at an earlier hour,
I would have strove thy sorrows to relieve,
Have torn thee from the tyrant Sickness' power,
And bade thy aching breast delight receive.
I would have sat the lingering, painful, eve,
With various talk the lonely moments cheer'd;
Have, with unwearied hand, thy head sustain'd
Whole nights; and soothed thee as thou had'st complain'd;
And heal'd thee with affection long endear'd.
O had I known it at an earlier hour,
I would have strove thy sorrows to relieve,
Have torn thee from the tyrant Sickness' power,
And bade thy aching breast delight receive.
I would have sat the lingering, painful, eve,
With various talk the lonely moments cheer'd;
Have, with unwearied hand, thy head sustain'd
Whole nights; and soothed thee as thou had'st complain'd;
And heal'd thee with affection long endear'd.
905
For I have known the hand of hard disease;
Have felt oppressive sickness at my soul;
Seen death-like paleness o'er my features spread;
And mark'd the life-supporting current freeze,
From hollow eyes, of blue despair, the big tears roll;
And join'd, in anguish'd fancy, with the dead.
Have felt oppressive sickness at my soul;
Seen death-like paleness o'er my features spread;
And mark'd the life-supporting current freeze,
From hollow eyes, of blue despair, the big tears roll;
And join'd, in anguish'd fancy, with the dead.
Yet then, even then, I cast a lingering look
On all the business of beloved mankind;
While each adieu, each fond farewel, I took,
Still left a wish, for once more view, behind.
'Twas then new pleasures burst upon my mind,
New wishes agitated all my breast;
And hope, and passion, and affection, join'd,
With life-reviving health again my bosom bless'd.
On all the business of beloved mankind;
While each adieu, each fond farewel, I took,
Still left a wish, for once more view, behind.
'Twas then new pleasures burst upon my mind,
New wishes agitated all my breast;
And hope, and passion, and affection, join'd,
With life-reviving health again my bosom bless'd.
Such are the joys I offer to thy view.
For what a greater transport can afford
Than to behold affection, virtue new,
And lovely goodness, o'er creation pourd?
To see refinement new-born raptures shew?
And happiness, by you, to earth restored?
For what a greater transport can afford
Than to behold affection, virtue new,
And lovely goodness, o'er creation pourd?
To see refinement new-born raptures shew?
And happiness, by you, to earth restored?
To see the enchanting smile
Of sweet benevolence expand,
And o'er the human face diffuse new light;
What hath such power affliction to beguile,
And soothe the woe-worn heart with comfort bland?
What greater pleasure can the soul delight?
Of sweet benevolence expand,
And o'er the human face diffuse new light;
What hath such power affliction to beguile,
And soothe the woe-worn heart with comfort bland?
What greater pleasure can the soul delight?
To let imagination stray,
And wanton in celestial day,
To see Creation's second birth.
And Heaven, descending, bless the Earth;
To view new beauty clothe the plain,
And rapture hail Messiah's reign;
To mark death, anguish, and disease,
And vice, no more pollute the breeze;
To see perfection's glorious heirs,
Triumphant o'er life's little cares,
To new attainments daily grow;
With nobler virtue hourly glow;
And, bosom'd in immortal peace,
In God's felicity increase;
To love with fresher truth inclined;
And gaining on the eternal Mind:
What nobler transports can the soul possess?
What richer joy the sympathetic bosom bless?
And wanton in celestial day,
To see Creation's second birth.
And Heaven, descending, bless the Earth;
To view new beauty clothe the plain,
And rapture hail Messiah's reign;
To mark death, anguish, and disease,
And vice, no more pollute the breeze;
To see perfection's glorious heirs,
Triumphant o'er life's little cares,
To new attainments daily grow;
With nobler virtue hourly glow;
And, bosom'd in immortal peace,
In God's felicity increase;
To love with fresher truth inclined;
And gaining on the eternal Mind:
What nobler transports can the soul possess?
What richer joy the sympathetic bosom bless?
ELLA.
906
ODE TO HENRY.
With what an anxious, trembling, joy,
Doth Modesty his powers employ!
While earnest pantings fill his breast,
He shrinks with shadowy fears distrest.
Warm'd with Fancy's glowing fire,
Henry can thy soul desire
Far from Virtue's aid to fly?
Virtue daughter of the sky.
Doth Modesty his powers employ!
While earnest pantings fill his breast,
He shrinks with shadowy fears distrest.
Warm'd with Fancy's glowing fire,
Henry can thy soul desire
Far from Virtue's aid to fly?
Virtue daughter of the sky.
O I had hoped, with fond delight,
With thee, ambitious, to unite;
With thee to wake the answering lyre;
With thee the strength of truth inspire.
Now thou fli'st the doubtful field
Yet untried, I see thee yield;
Shun the stormy face of day,
Which to glory points the way.
With thee, ambitious, to unite;
With thee to wake the answering lyre;
With thee the strength of truth inspire.
Now thou fli'st the doubtful field
Yet untried, I see thee yield;
Shun the stormy face of day,
Which to glory points the way.
We might have join'd, with studious care,
To chase from earth the fiend Despair.
To wake new tenderness and truth,
New virtue, in the soul of Youth.
Might have bade true friendship rise;
Love regardless of disguise.
Merit garb anew the mind;
Worth the glory of mankind.
To chase from earth the fiend Despair.
To wake new tenderness and truth,
New virtue, in the soul of Youth.
Might have bade true friendship rise;
Love regardless of disguise.
Merit garb anew the mind;
Worth the glory of mankind.
To us the Muse have oped her store
With luxury unknown before;
Our fainting souls with strength have fired;
Our song with energy inspired.
Now a tear her cheek bedews—
“Henry hath forgot the Muse.
“Slights the power whose constant care
“Makes him lovely to his fair.
With luxury unknown before;
Our fainting souls with strength have fired;
Our song with energy inspired.
Now a tear her cheek bedews—
“Henry hath forgot the Muse.
“Slights the power whose constant care
“Makes him lovely to his fair.
“Tell him, altho the fires of even,
“Before the Sun, are lost in heaven;
“Like, are the Muse's splendid rays,
“The glory of the latter days.
“Radiance gilds the Poet's sky;
“Heavenly visions fill his eye;
“Time's dominions unconceal'd,
“All Creation lies reveal'd.”
“Before the Sun, are lost in heaven;
“Like, are the Muse's splendid rays,
“The glory of the latter days.
“Radiance gilds the Poet's sky;
“Heavenly visions fill his eye;
“Time's dominions unconceal'd,
“All Creation lies reveal'd.”
ELLA.
907
LAURA and MARY.
“Why drops the pearly tear from Laura's eye?
That eye which used the love-lorn mind to cheer;
Why heaves that bosom thus the far-fetch'd sigh?
What grief afflicts the maid to friendship dear?
That eye which used the love-lorn mind to cheer;
Why heaves that bosom thus the far-fetch'd sigh?
What grief afflicts the maid to friendship dear?
Form'd with the power the coldest heart to warm,
With innate beauty glowing in thy breast;
What from thy bosom can contentment charm,
Or break with momentary woe thy rest?
With innate beauty glowing in thy breast;
What from thy bosom can contentment charm,
Or break with momentary woe thy rest?
Can she whose presence never fails to give
New life, new joy, on whom she deigns to smile;
Thus like a turtle solitary live,
And all admirers of their hopes beguile?”
New life, new joy, on whom she deigns to smile;
Thus like a turtle solitary live,
And all admirers of their hopes beguile?”
“Alas my Mary! nought can e'er avail,
To sooth the gathered tumults of my soul;
Or, wakening comfort for a girl so frail,
To calm my sorrows, or my griefs control.
To sooth the gathered tumults of my soul;
Or, wakening comfort for a girl so frail,
To calm my sorrows, or my griefs control.
908
Not all the pleasures that this world affords,
Can give one moment to my soul of peace;
Nor all the flattering emptiness of words,
Make glad this conscience with its wonted ease.
Can give one moment to my soul of peace;
Nor all the flattering emptiness of words,
Make glad this conscience with its wonted ease.
Short are the joys triumphant beauty gives,
With hurried steps full quick they flit away;
E'en while the triumph in the bosom lives,
We droop with night, and sicken with the day.
With hurried steps full quick they flit away;
E'en while the triumph in the bosom lives,
We droop with night, and sicken with the day.
But O my Mary! nought can e'er reprieve
My soul from sorrow, or my bosom cheer;
Or bless the heart, that fluttering to deceive,
Has stretch'd my Edward on a watery bier.
My soul from sorrow, or my bosom cheer;
Or bless the heart, that fluttering to deceive,
Has stretch'd my Edward on a watery bier.
Pleased with the tho'ts of conquest, and of fame,
I spurn'd the youth, forgetful of his love,
Whose crimson blushes spoke the burning flame—
Hard was my heart—nor sighs, nor tears, could move.
I spurn'd the youth, forgetful of his love,
Whose crimson blushes spoke the burning flame—
Hard was my heart—nor sighs, nor tears, could move.
At length, dejected with my base disdain,
And worn with sorrow, and corroding care,
He plunged, at midnight, in the billowy main,
And left these fields, and left this vernal air.
And worn with sorrow, and corroding care,
He plunged, at midnight, in the billowy main,
And left these fields, and left this vernal air.
'Twas then I found, nor pride, nor wealth, nor praise,
Could pour one beam of comfort on my mind;
Twas then I wish'd, that with an answering grace,
I'd heard his vows, and never been unkind.
Could pour one beam of comfort on my mind;
Twas then I wish'd, that with an answering grace,
I'd heard his vows, and never been unkind.
Full many an eve I've dew'd the green-clad earth
With stern Repentance' bitter-dropping tear;
Full many a day I've fled the house of mirth,
And brooded o'er the memory of my dear.
With stern Repentance' bitter-dropping tear;
Full many a day I've fled the house of mirth,
And brooded o'er the memory of my dear.
Thus, thus, my Mary! torn from every joy,
And pierced with Conscience' terrifying dart,
In tears, and sighs, my moments I employ,
Nor tears, nor sighs, can ease my broken heart.”
And pierced with Conscience' terrifying dart,
In tears, and sighs, my moments I employ,
Nor tears, nor sighs, can ease my broken heart.”
Here as she paused, a sudden thunder shook
The groves around; the darken'd forests roar;
The trees that mantled o'er the winding brook,
Scared at the sound, forsook the waved-wash'd shore.
The groves around; the darken'd forests roar;
The trees that mantled o'er the winding brook,
Scared at the sound, forsook the waved-wash'd shore.
Terrific lightning blazing round their heads
In one large sheet the wide-stretch'd forest veil'd;
And new-form'd thunder shook again the meads,
And chased the lightnings that their forms assail'd.
In one large sheet the wide-stretch'd forest veil'd;
And new-form'd thunder shook again the meads,
And chased the lightnings that their forms assail'd.
909
At once a voice, stern as the winter's roar,
That chill'd their vitals, and that froze their blood;
Bade the loud grumbling thunder vex no more
The trembling forest, and the frighten'd flood.
That chill'd their vitals, and that froze their blood;
Bade the loud grumbling thunder vex no more
The trembling forest, and the frighten'd flood.
At once a deeper flash o'erspread the sky:
A louder peal convulsed the trembling ground;
The lightnings vanish'd from the pain-fed eye;
And thunders wavered with a distant sound.
A louder peal convulsed the trembling ground;
The lightnings vanish'd from the pain-fed eye;
And thunders wavered with a distant sound.
Sudden a form, with which the angelic host,
Nor Raphael's self in majesty could vie,
Chased the dark thunders from the quaking coast,
And oped the purpling regions on their eye.
Nor Raphael's self in majesty could vie,
Chased the dark thunders from the quaking coast,
And oped the purpling regions on their eye.
Then, with a look that pierced thro' Laura's heart,
And crop'd the withering roses of her cheek—
“Thou wretch” he cried, “no comfort I impart;
No joys for thee the swift-wing'd minutes seek.
And crop'd the withering roses of her cheek—
“Thou wretch” he cried, “no comfort I impart;
No joys for thee the swift-wing'd minutes seek.
He who, with tears, thy favors once implored
Another holds by Hymen's sacred band;
No more to wander from the nymph adored,
No more to quit, for vile disdain, the land.
Another holds by Hymen's sacred band;
No more to wander from the nymph adored,
No more to quit, for vile disdain, the land.
Content shall bless him in the works of peace,
Fame shall his footsteps in the war attend;
Rend from a Cesar's brow the withering wreaths
To deck the worthier temples of my friend.
Fame shall his footsteps in the war attend;
Rend from a Cesar's brow the withering wreaths
To deck the worthier temples of my friend.
His wife, sweet partner of his every joy,
Adorn'd with all the virtues of the fair,
Shall bless his life in love without alloy,
Love free from sorrow and perplexing care.
Adorn'd with all the virtues of the fair,
Shall bless his life in love without alloy,
Love free from sorrow and perplexing care.
In all her looks is sentiment express'd;
In every action dignity and grace;
O! form'd from every age new praise to wrest—
And scatter blushes o'er a Portia's face.
In every action dignity and grace;
O! form'd from every age new praise to wrest—
And scatter blushes o'er a Portia's face.
She, tinged with health's inimitable dye,
Shall pass the spring and summer of her life;
Rise, with a nation's blessings, to the sky,
Her only Epitaph—“This was a Wife.”
Shall pass the spring and summer of her life;
Rise, with a nation's blessings, to the sky,
Her only Epitaph—“This was a Wife.”
But thou, shall sicken with the coming eve;
Drop, unlamented, to the narrow grave;
No grateful memory to thy kindred leave;
No hand assist thee, none shall wish to save.”
Drop, unlamented, to the narrow grave;
No grateful memory to thy kindred leave;
No hand assist thee, none shall wish to save.”
Again fresh lightnings sheeted o'er the skies;
Again fresh thunders rock'd the trembling ground;
The vision vanish'd from her eager eyes,
And lightnings quivered at the parting sound.
Again fresh thunders rock'd the trembling ground;
The vision vanish'd from her eager eyes,
And lightnings quivered at the parting sound.
ELLA.
910
ODE,
WRITTEN ON LEAVING THE PLACE OF MY NATIVITY.
High up the heavens the Sun in radiance moves,
Gilding thy varied beauties, happy Place,
Whose charms, by birth and time endear'd, my spirit loves,
And mourning leaves, a distant way to trace.
Gilding thy varied beauties, happy Place,
Whose charms, by birth and time endear'd, my spirit loves,
And mourning leaves, a distant way to trace.
Now let me check the rising sigh
To mark, with melancholy eye,
Thy scenes which, lingering, from my view retire:
Thy domes, slow-moving from the sight;
Thy Lake, which gleams a fainting light;
Thy dim-discovered spire.
To mark, with melancholy eye,
Thy scenes which, lingering, from my view retire:
Thy domes, slow-moving from the sight;
Thy Lake, which gleams a fainting light;
Thy dim-discovered spire.
Dear scenes of youthful joy—farewel!
Farewel the Street which evening hail'd her own,
Charm'd with the scattered moonlight o'er it thrown,
Listening, with sweet attention, while the knell
Rung o'er the echoing fields, of Summer's early bell.
Farewel the Street, where winter, robed in snow,
Roar'd with wild tempest in the ear of night;
Where Friendshpip, powerful, could his might o'erthrow,
And win Affection's house of calm delight.
Farewel the Street which evening hail'd her own,
Charm'd with the scattered moonlight o'er it thrown,
Listening, with sweet attention, while the knell
Rung o'er the echoing fields, of Summer's early bell.
Farewel the Street, where winter, robed in snow,
Roar'd with wild tempest in the ear of night;
Where Friendshpip, powerful, could his might o'erthrow,
And win Affection's house of calm delight.
Farewel thou venerable Dome,
Where the mild Sabbath call'd my constant feet.
Still let me think how frequent on thy seat,
Deep-musing tho't hath found a heavenly home.
For there the soul, when bigot rage was raised,
And fiery zeal threw crimson o'er the face,
Or when the vengeance of the Lord was praised,
And torture shook the tenements of grace;
Or priestly warmth upraised the rod;
Or Dullness nodded o'er the word of God;
Could look with mild complacency around;
And aye where inborn worth was found,
Or goodness glow'd upon the face of youth,
Or native innocency shone,
Or beauty soften'd on the lip of truth,
Or dove-like Pureness fix'd her throne;
Could gaze with fond delight,
Grow better at the sight,
Grateful would swell for what was given,
And rise, in glowing rapture, up to heaven.
Where the mild Sabbath call'd my constant feet.
Still let me think how frequent on thy seat,
Deep-musing tho't hath found a heavenly home.
For there the soul, when bigot rage was raised,
And fiery zeal threw crimson o'er the face,
Or when the vengeance of the Lord was praised,
And torture shook the tenements of grace;
Or priestly warmth upraised the rod;
Or Dullness nodded o'er the word of God;
Could look with mild complacency around;
And aye where inborn worth was found,
Or goodness glow'd upon the face of youth,
Or native innocency shone,
Or beauty soften'd on the lip of truth,
Or dove-like Pureness fix'd her throne;
Could gaze with fond delight,
Grow better at the sight,
Grateful would swell for what was given,
And rise, in glowing rapture, up to heaven.
911
To the still-winding River's moonlight banks;
The slowly-rising Hill, which leads along
To where the Grove, rich scene of Quips and Cranks
And side-supporting laughter, becks the jocund throng;
One pensive, last farewell, now loads my sorrowing song.
The slowly-rising Hill, which leads along
To where the Grove, rich scene of Quips and Cranks
And side-supporting laughter, becks the jocund throng;
One pensive, last farewell, now loads my sorrowing song.
Farewel dear Inmates of my soul!
Now let no grief your minds controul;
Now heave no silent, secret, sigh;
Or hang in tears the mournful eye;
Or lift the hands, in anguish wrung;
Or wake to speech the flattering tongue.
Is't not enough in pain to part?
Spare, spare, the agonizing heart.
Now let no grief your minds controul;
Now heave no silent, secret, sigh;
Or hang in tears the mournful eye;
Or lift the hands, in anguish wrung;
Or wake to speech the flattering tongue.
Is't not enough in pain to part?
Spare, spare, the agonizing heart.
Science hails me to her seat;
Bright Ambition urges on;
Fame to Glory tempts my feet.
‘Seize on knowledge ere 'tis gone.
‘Learning opes her varied stores;
‘Age his stream o' treasure pours;
‘Meek-eyed Piety requires;
‘Mild Humanity desires;
‘Pity points, thy gain, the skies;
‘Come!’ the Voice of Nature cries.
Bright Ambition urges on;
Fame to Glory tempts my feet.
‘Seize on knowledge ere 'tis gone.
‘Learning opes her varied stores;
‘Age his stream o' treasure pours;
‘Meek-eyed Piety requires;
‘Mild Humanity desires;
‘Pity points, thy gain, the skies;
‘Come!’ the Voice of Nature cries.
Father of Heaven! I bow with soul resign'd.
My former joys shall aid my better part;
All meaner cares be banish'd from my mind
My toils my Country claims, and God my heart.
My former joys shall aid my better part;
All meaner cares be banish'd from my mind
My toils my Country claims, and God my heart.
ELLA.
914
SONNET IX.
To Mr. JOHN TRUMBULL.
Trumbull! to thee, with hesitating hand,
I wake the tremulously-breathing lyre;
Fearful that Age, altho the Muse inspire,
Should weep that Modesty had lost command.
I wake the tremulously-breathing lyre;
Fearful that Age, altho the Muse inspire,
Should weep that Modesty had lost command.
Tis not, alone, that energy divine
Lives o'er the canvass, as thy pencil moves:
That tint perfects the exquisite design,
And life is present; that my soul approves:
Lives o'er the canvass, as thy pencil moves:
That tint perfects the exquisite design,
And life is present; that my soul approves:
But, that thy Spirit brooding o'er the immense
Of unknown Beauty, to existence gave
The plan, where Wisdom, Liberty, and Sense,
The high-soul'd Patriot, and the Warrior brave,
Live, with the appropriate character of face,
In all the pencil's manners-painting grace.
Of unknown Beauty, to existence gave
The plan, where Wisdom, Liberty, and Sense,
The high-soul'd Patriot, and the Warrior brave,
Live, with the appropriate character of face,
In all the pencil's manners-painting grace.
ELLA.
915
ODE,
TO BIRTHA.
With every changement of the varying mind
New feelings animate the mortal frame;
And new sensations of the body, claim
A soul to equal sympathy inclined.
New feelings animate the mortal frame;
And new sensations of the body, claim
A soul to equal sympathy inclined.
See Malice on the face imprint
A dimpled smile, the down-drawn lip that strains,
Half bend the brow, and place the eye asquint,
And shrink, with expectation, all the veins.
See pale Consumption o'er the sage's soul
Spread idiot weakness, infantine distress,
Raise with false hope, with faithless joy controul,
With fancied, groundless agony depress.
A dimpled smile, the down-drawn lip that strains,
Half bend the brow, and place the eye asquint,
And shrink, with expectation, all the veins.
See pale Consumption o'er the sage's soul
Spread idiot weakness, infantine distress,
Raise with false hope, with faithless joy controul,
With fancied, groundless agony depress.
While with invigorating health we tread,
And Youth, with dewy fingers, binds
Her crown of roses round the head,
Borne on the winged winds,
Imagination strays.
Wherever Nature's hand her charms displays—
Be it to see “the rich-hair'd Youth of Morn”
Impearl the fragrance-breathing thorn;
To see the mist wind slowly o'er the hill;
Or hear, from unseen bank, loud burst the gurgling rill;
Or Zephyr rustle sweet the woods among
Whose thickets swell with melody and song;
To hear the voice of Industry resound;
The ploughman whistling o'er the loamy ridge;
The shepherd's tinkling bell that talks around;
And hoofs loud rattling o'er the village bridge;
Or torrents foaming down the mountain's breast;—
There doth imagination love to rest.
And Youth, with dewy fingers, binds
Her crown of roses round the head,
Borne on the winged winds,
Imagination strays.
Wherever Nature's hand her charms displays—
Be it to see “the rich-hair'd Youth of Morn”
Impearl the fragrance-breathing thorn;
To see the mist wind slowly o'er the hill;
Or hear, from unseen bank, loud burst the gurgling rill;
Or Zephyr rustle sweet the woods among
Whose thickets swell with melody and song;
To hear the voice of Industry resound;
The ploughman whistling o'er the loamy ridge;
The shepherd's tinkling bell that talks around;
And hoofs loud rattling o'er the village bridge;
Or torrents foaming down the mountain's breast;—
There doth imagination love to rest.
But when the sallow hand of Sickness spreads
Wan desolation o'er the human face,
No more imagination loves to trace
The sportive beauties of the laughing meads.
Wan desolation o'er the human face,
No more imagination loves to trace
The sportive beauties of the laughing meads.
916
But the drear cavern, and the dark some dell,
The wild faint-gleaming with the meteor's light,
The distant watch-tower's hollow-sounding bell,
And tempests brooding o'er the inclement night;
Blue, sulphur-breathing, flames, from church-yard paths that rise,
Dim, shadowy forms, that dance before the sight,
The quick-departing flash, that wraps the skies,
And horror's scream, the melancholy soul delight.
The wild faint-gleaming with the meteor's light,
The distant watch-tower's hollow-sounding bell,
And tempests brooding o'er the inclement night;
Blue, sulphur-breathing, flames, from church-yard paths that rise,
Dim, shadowy forms, that dance before the sight,
The quick-departing flash, that wraps the skies,
And horror's scream, the melancholy soul delight.
When deep disease hangs heavy on the mind,
Such sympathetic grief the body feels,
That he but half restores, who only heals
The woe with which the anguish'd spirit pined:
For health must give new vigor to the frame
Ere soft Contentment can the bosom claim.
Such sympathetic grief the body feels,
That he but half restores, who only heals
The woe with which the anguish'd spirit pined:
For health must give new vigor to the frame
Ere soft Contentment can the bosom claim.
So, if the hand of agony distress
The suffering body with distracting pain,
No earthly medicine can so well sustain,
No costly cordial can so truly bless,
As the calm soul, to providence resign'd—
The steady sunshine of the immortal mind.
The suffering body with distracting pain,
No earthly medicine can so well sustain,
No costly cordial can so truly bless,
As the calm soul, to providence resign'd—
The steady sunshine of the immortal mind.
O then, my Birtha! from the scenes
Where gloomy Contemplation loves to dwell,
From musing Melancholy's cell,
Your wounded spirit call,
To where eternal love the soul serenes,
And Heaven's own finger's “dress the dreary ball.”
Where gloomy Contemplation loves to dwell,
From musing Melancholy's cell,
Your wounded spirit call,
To where eternal love the soul serenes,
And Heaven's own finger's “dress the dreary ball.”
Read and reflect, reflect and read;
Make it your constant study and employ,
The grand, affecting, solemn, truths to heed,
Which wake, of pious hearts, the moral joy.
These as you study, torn from dreary views,
New bliss shall animate your soul,
New strength your body brace;
With sweet delight the fancy trace
The lighter paths of moral dues,
And see contentment light the mental pole.
Make it your constant study and employ,
The grand, affecting, solemn, truths to heed,
Which wake, of pious hearts, the moral joy.
These as you study, torn from dreary views,
New bliss shall animate your soul,
New strength your body brace;
With sweet delight the fancy trace
The lighter paths of moral dues,
And see contentment light the mental pole.
By soft degrees, the scenes which former days
On your imagination pictured fair,
Shall rise, bedeck'd with joy-reviving rays,
And from your bosom chase the monster Care.
Then Happiness, with powerful arm,
Shall wrest his poignard from Disease,
And from the features that were born to please,
Scatter, of felon Sickness, far the fallow charm:
Again shall bid health sparkle from your eye;
In every step bid laughing pleasure dance;
Young Love the dimpling cheek with smiles enhance;
And Youth, in glory bursting from the sky,
With Beauty's rich, inimitable grace,
Throw her celestial roses o'er your face.
On your imagination pictured fair,
Shall rise, bedeck'd with joy-reviving rays,
And from your bosom chase the monster Care.
Then Happiness, with powerful arm,
Shall wrest his poignard from Disease,
And from the features that were born to please,
Scatter, of felon Sickness, far the fallow charm:
Again shall bid health sparkle from your eye;
In every step bid laughing pleasure dance;
Young Love the dimpling cheek with smiles enhance;
And Youth, in glory bursting from the sky,
With Beauty's rich, inimitable grace,
Throw her celestial roses o'er your face.
ELLA.
917
A FRAGMENT.
[_]
The following little Poem was written as a testimony of the Author's respect for the talents of Mr. Ralph Earl, a Painter of the school of West, and one whom nothing but misfortune has hindered from making a conspicuous figure among the great artists in the profession of Painting.
[OMITTED] With steady hand,
There Earl marks out the deep-expressive line.
Fix'd o'er the work intent, the colours spread—
Thro the thin white deep blushes now the red;
And here the violet, mingling with the blue.
Spreads loose in flowing folds of azure-thining hue.
There Earl marks out the deep-expressive line.
Fix'd o'er the work intent, the colours spread—
Thro the thin white deep blushes now the red;
And here the violet, mingling with the blue.
Spreads loose in flowing folds of azure-thining hue.
With form embodied, Force, and Vigour stand;
And Eloquence extends the hand;
And sober Tho't contracts his brow;
And Sadness wipes the tears that flow
In softly-sympathetic woe.
And Eloquence extends the hand;
And sober Tho't contracts his brow;
And Sadness wipes the tears that flow
In softly-sympathetic woe.
Still at his touch new forms arise;
The soul sits sparkling in the eyes;
Speech opes the lips; the throbbing heart
Seems thro the swelling breast to start:
The turgid muscles aid the vivid strife,
And all the form bursts trembling into life.
The soul sits sparkling in the eyes;
Speech opes the lips; the throbbing heart
Seems thro the swelling breast to start:
The turgid muscles aid the vivid strife,
And all the form bursts trembling into life.
Simplicity, with ardent gaze.
Stands fix'd in deep amaze,
And agitated Rapture lifts his trembling hands;
Bent o'er the piece young Genius stands;
While Tenderness, with tearful eye,
Strives to suppress the rising sigh;
And Superstition lifts the affrighted cry.
Stands fix'd in deep amaze,
And agitated Rapture lifts his trembling hands;
Bent o'er the piece young Genius stands;
While Tenderness, with tearful eye,
Strives to suppress the rising sigh;
And Superstition lifts the affrighted cry.
ELLA.
918
THE SMILE.
SONNET TO CAROLINE.
Hast thou not seen upon some night serene,
The silver moon with smiling radiance beam—
Illume the grove—enliven every stream—
And add new charms to every lovely scene?
The silver moon with smiling radiance beam—
Illume the grove—enliven every stream—
And add new charms to every lovely scene?
So charming Caroline thy angel-smile
On day or night unequall'd joy bestows,
Does the sad breast of grief and pain beguile,
And stays the tear which else forever flows.
On day or night unequall'd joy bestows,
Does the sad breast of grief and pain beguile,
And stays the tear which else forever flows.
In thy soft smile the soul of sweetness lives,
That grace, which shines exalted over art—
Which speaks the friendly and the feeling heart,
And ev'ry virtuous wish and transport gives.
Then lovely Caroline thy smile repeat;
I fear not there the poison of deceit.
That grace, which shines exalted over art—
Which speaks the friendly and the feeling heart,
And ev'ry virtuous wish and transport gives.
Then lovely Caroline thy smile repeat;
I fear not there the poison of deceit.
HENRY.
923
A FRAGMENT,
In imitation of Spenser.
Ah me! how black misfortune clouds the day!
How joy is banish'd from the human mind!
How pleasure flies at like the evening ray,
Ne can we e'er its lovely footsteps find.
And still unheedful, to the present blind,
We let the joyous moments slip along:
Still to ourselves eke careless and unkind,
We pass e'er straying from the happy throng,
Ne join the easy dance, ne sootly raise the song.
How joy is banish'd from the human mind!
How pleasure flies at like the evening ray,
Ne can we e'er its lovely footsteps find.
And still unheedful, to the present blind,
We let the joyous moments slip along:
Still to ourselves eke careless and unkind,
We pass e'er straying from the happy throng,
Ne join the easy dance, ne sootly raise the song.
Yet now, regardful of life's little space,
And wisely yielding with obeisance still,
Let me no more the pleasant scene deface
With griefs responsive to the murm'ring rill,
And moans loud echoing o'er the neigh'bring hill.
O let me hide my sorrows in the night,
And how submissive to the Eternal will;
Then Time shall load each moment with delight,
And o'er my soul shall shine the Muse's living light.—
And wisely yielding with obeisance still,
Let me no more the pleasant scene deface
With griefs responsive to the murm'ring rill,
And moans loud echoing o'er the neigh'bring hill.
O let me hide my sorrows in the night,
And how submissive to the Eternal will;
Then Time shall load each moment with delight,
And o'er my soul shall shine the Muse's living light.—
'Twas when the Sun had climb'd the azure steep,
And shed his yellow influence on the earth;
Had driven the roaring tempests 'neath the deep,
And call'd the green creation into birth;
When lively Youth, gay Health and buxom Mirth,
Scatter'd the Summer's joys the world around;
When the neat housewife from her kitchen hearth
Had thrown the ashes on the garden ground,
And with green boughs and flowrets it had crown'd;
And shed his yellow influence on the earth;
Had driven the roaring tempests 'neath the deep,
And call'd the green creation into birth;
When lively Youth, gay Health and buxom Mirth,
Scatter'd the Summer's joys the world around;
When the neat housewife from her kitchen hearth
Had thrown the ashes on the garden ground,
And with green boughs and flowrets it had crown'd;
Then, where Libanus which is hight the new
Spreads all around its ever varied scene,
And pours a rich creation on the view,
Stray'd from mine home, in spritely youth I been,
Then, with fresh joy I ken the smiling green,
The distant mountains frowning on the vale,
The lofty woods which shew their heights atween,
The speckled flocks thick nibbling in the dale,
And leaves, and flutt'ring birds, ay flying in the gale.
Spreads all around its ever varied scene,
And pours a rich creation on the view,
Stray'd from mine home, in spritely youth I been,
Then, with fresh joy I ken the smiling green,
The distant mountains frowning on the vale,
The lofty woods which shew their heights atween,
The speckled flocks thick nibbling in the dale,
And leaves, and flutt'ring birds, ay flying in the gale.
924
Aid me, O Muse! the varied joys to tell
Which in this region of delight appear;
To mark the sorrows which must here ay dwell;
The joys, and woes, which call the differing tear.
What curious Nature hath ypighted here
Ay torturing pain fore'er to drive away,
And ease the grief of many tiresome yeare;
Or to add comfort to the present day;
Eke her unkindness joying kindly to o'erpay.
Which in this region of delight appear;
To mark the sorrows which must here ay dwell;
The joys, and woes, which call the differing tear.
What curious Nature hath ypighted here
Ay torturing pain fore'er to drive away,
And ease the grief of many tiresome yeare;
Or to add comfort to the present day;
Eke her unkindness joying kindly to o'erpay.
From the smooth plain we rise the craggy hill
That tortuous windes its lengthened way along;
Leave on the lest the hoarse ay clacking mill,
And reach the dome, meet burthen of a song.
The dome e'er swarming with the busy throng,
That with a different purpose seek the place,
In pleasure's paths to wander all among;
Or dry the tear from sorrow's faded face,
Which the soft hand of Love delights away to chase.
That tortuous windes its lengthened way along;
Leave on the lest the hoarse ay clacking mill,
And reach the dome, meet burthen of a song.
The dome e'er swarming with the busy throng,
That with a different purpose seek the place,
In pleasure's paths to wander all among;
Or dry the tear from sorrow's faded face,
Which the soft hand of Love delights away to chase.
Straught from the morning to the falling ray,
Full many a foot the building spred, I ween,
And its front proudly to the southern day
Uprearing pleasant, from afar was seen.
Flank'd with a broad Piazza round it been—
Meet place to walk, and spend the summer's morn;
And from its edge to view the distant scene,
When the sun, rising, all things doth adorn,
And gild the flowers, and dew-drops glistening on the thorn.
Full many a foot the building spred, I ween,
And its front proudly to the southern day
Uprearing pleasant, from afar was seen.
Flank'd with a broad Piazza round it been—
Meet place to walk, and spend the summer's morn;
And from its edge to view the distant scene,
When the sun, rising, all things doth adorn,
And gild the flowers, and dew-drops glistening on the thorn.
925
Here, when the orient blushes o'er the earth,
I walk, regardful of the enchanting view.
What charms the voice of Summer wakes to birth!
What beauty trembleth through the lucent dew!
Far round the horizon rise the mountains blue!
In distant prospect mingling with the sky;
And here the woods in varied foliage shew;
Yielding soft pleasure to the roving eye,
That longs the innumerous sweets of nature to descry.
I walk, regardful of the enchanting view.
What charms the voice of Summer wakes to birth!
What beauty trembleth through the lucent dew!
Far round the horizon rise the mountains blue!
In distant prospect mingling with the sky;
And here the woods in varied foliage shew;
Yielding soft pleasure to the roving eye,
That longs the innumerous sweets of nature to descry.
At distance still, and o'er a beauteous plain
A village breaketh through the tufted trees:
Where industry renews her daily pain,
And labor sigheth on the careless breeze.
Here, tho' rich plenty laugheth o'er the mees,
In antic vesture robed Religion walks,
Her face in sorrows drest, all hearts doth freeze,
And with a frigid hand creation balks;
While in her train wan Care, with Pain united, stalks.
A village breaketh through the tufted trees:
Where industry renews her daily pain,
And labor sigheth on the careless breeze.
Here, tho' rich plenty laugheth o'er the mees,
In antic vesture robed Religion walks,
Her face in sorrows drest, all hearts doth freeze,
And with a frigid hand creation balks;
While in her train wan Care, with Pain united, stalks.
Here, while the eye doth glisten with delight
To see what pleasaunce liveth o'er the scene,
Yet doth compassion's tear bedim the sight.
O Heaven! shall Virtue of celestial mien
The soul of nature, and creation's queen,
Reign but to spread destruction on mankind?
Shall Piety, bedeck'd in God's own sheen,
Live but to seal damnation on the mind—
Whose very soul is love with adoration join'd?
To see what pleasaunce liveth o'er the scene,
Yet doth compassion's tear bedim the sight.
O Heaven! shall Virtue of celestial mien
The soul of nature, and creation's queen,
Reign but to spread destruction on mankind?
Shall Piety, bedeck'd in God's own sheen,
Live but to seal damnation on the mind—
Whose very soul is love with adoration join'd?
ELLA.
These waters have proved a radical cure in many cases of rheumatism, and in scrophulous affections; and have relieved many other complaints. One singular case of their efficacy in Spasmodic diseases is daily exhibited there, and is worth relating. A Mr. Hitchcock, who keeps the Bath House, has lived there many years unable to remove. He appears perfectly well. Generally once a day—sometimes less often, and sometimes oftener, he is seized with strong convulsions; his muscles appear to be drawn into knots—which I have seen of the size of a large egg. In this situation, unable to support or assist himself, he is carried to the bath, stripped and rolled in. The effect is instantaneous. He immediately jumps up perfectly recovered; and is commonly free till nearly the same time next day.
Much company resort here in the months of July, August, September and October, for the purposes of pleasure, and recovering health.
This refers to the sect called Shaking Quakers. About two miles from the Pool they have a handsome church; and a large house in which near an hundred persons live.—Their devotion consists principally in dancing and singing. These exercises are carried on to their own extreme emaciation.—They are very laborious, and have generally the character of scrupulous honesty.—The women and men live in different parts of the same house; the married persons have no connection with each other, and all marriages are prohibited. Their dress is extremely simple. The men wear short coats and short hair. The women are, generally, dressed in a white short gown and skirt, and in small close long-eared caps.—The sect seems to be rather diminishing, as the natural means of increase are cut off; few proselytes are gained; and the severity and constancy of their fatiguing exercises carries them off in a few years—This denomination of religionists made its appearance about ten years since. The head of them was the former mistress of a British officer. She called herself the Elect Lady; and lived to see her principles adopted by a considerable number of people in the north part of the States of New-York and Massachusetts, and some parts of Vermont—They call themselves Christians—but their exact principles I am unacquainted with.
926
SONG.
Away each soft and tender bliss—
The laugh of joy—the glance of love—
The gay discourse—the heart of peace—
The hours, which winged with rapture, move.
The laugh of joy—the glance of love—
The gay discourse—the heart of peace—
The hours, which winged with rapture, move.
A friend, once wont to give and share
Each transport of the fleeting year,
A semblant angel, good and fair,
To every thought and feeling dear;
Each transport of the fleeting year,
A semblant angel, good and fair,
To every thought and feeling dear;
Explored my unsuspecting heart
In smiling Friendship's faithless guise,
Exulting found a tender part
Where lives soft peace and where it dies.
In smiling Friendship's faithless guise,
Exulting found a tender part
Where lives soft peace and where it dies.
And there—ah there! her causeless hate
Impressed an undeserved blow,
That sealed with endless grief my fate,
And plunged me deep in hopeless woe.
Impressed an undeserved blow,
That sealed with endless grief my fate,
And plunged me deep in hopeless woe.
Then trust not, Youth, the melting air,
The thrilling touch, refined embrace;
Since Treachery has a form so fair,
And Malice wears so sweet a face.
The thrilling touch, refined embrace;
Since Treachery has a form so fair,
And Malice wears so sweet a face.
HENRY.
ODE.
THE FAR WELL.
Hope, holy sister of the cherub Peace!
Thy path celestial thro' the heavens I trace.
As now, reclining on the amber breast
Of yon far-sailing cloud,
Thou deign'st thy hallowed form to rest,
Thy beauties half enshroud.
Thy path celestial thro' the heavens I trace.
As now, reclining on the amber breast
Of yon far-sailing cloud,
Thou deign'st thy hallowed form to rest,
Thy beauties half enshroud.
927
Yet, tho' thy glories faintly fill the sight,
Fair Queen I know thee, and adore thy might.
Thy robes of snowy white I know;
The golden lock that o'er thy shoulder strays,
And on the skirting of the cloud doth throw
The splendor of the solar blaze;
Thy skyey mantle now I say.
That, backward floating, on the breezes plays;
The dim mists now thy visage fly,
I meet the comfort of thine eye.
Fair Queen I know thee, and adore thy might.
Thy robes of snowy white I know;
The golden lock that o'er thy shoulder strays,
And on the skirting of the cloud doth throw
The splendor of the solar blaze;
Thy skyey mantle now I say.
That, backward floating, on the breezes plays;
The dim mists now thy visage fly,
I meet the comfort of thine eye.
Offspring of Virtue, Consolation's child!
Thy power, thy kindness, and thy love, I bless;
And with adoring heart thy care confess,
Whose condescension mild,
Hath spread new calmness o'er my Birtha's soul,
Bid new-born transport' thro' her bosom stray,
Their tides fresh spirits thro' her vessels roll,
And sweet Contentment o'er her features play.
Thy power, thy kindness, and thy love, I bless;
And with adoring heart thy care confess,
Whose condescension mild,
Hath spread new calmness o'er my Birtha's soul,
Bid new-born transport' thro' her bosom stray,
Their tides fresh spirits thro' her vessels roll,
And sweet Contentment o'er her features play.
Henceforth my idle song shall cease,
No higher comforts can I give
Than those which in her bosom live,
Thy voice serene hath spoke, and all her soul is peace.
No higher comforts can I give
Than those which in her bosom live,
Thy voice serene hath spoke, and all her soul is peace.
—Go little Lyre, unbend thy useless chords,
Untune each speaking string;
No more my voice of youth shall give thee words,
My feeble touch responsive bid thee ring.
For now severer Study lifts her voice,
And chides the lingering accents of my lay;
Points to the waiting object of my choice,
That shuddering trembles at each fond delay.
Untune each speaking string;
No more my voice of youth shall give thee words,
My feeble touch responsive bid thee ring.
For now severer Study lifts her voice,
And chides the lingering accents of my lay;
Points to the waiting object of my choice,
That shuddering trembles at each fond delay.
Now cares await me, and the frugal toil
That builds, of Competence the peaceful dome,
And gives, at length, the happy haven home.
Perchance, in days to come, may Leisure smile,
And fond Remembrance give thee to my sight,
Not all unused thy warblings to awake,
Not unacquainted to arouse delight,
To soothe the sad, the warm to love excite,
And bid, with deepest dread, the soul severely shake.
That builds, of Competence the peaceful dome,
And gives, at length, the happy haven home.
Perchance, in days to come, may Leisure smile,
And fond Remembrance give thee to my sight,
Not all unused thy warblings to awake,
Not unacquainted to arouse delight,
To soothe the sad, the warm to love excite,
And bid, with deepest dread, the soul severely shake.
And then, perchance, in happiest union join'd,
Thy chords, kind answering to my song,
May pour some happy strain along,
And please, of Wisdom's Sons, the taste refined.
Thy chords, kind answering to my song,
May pour some happy strain along,
And please, of Wisdom's Sons, the taste refined.
ELLA.
| [Poems by Smith in] The Echo | |