An ode on benevolence To which are prefixed observations on Education, Taste, and Poetry [by Thomas Cooke] |
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 | An ode on benevolence |  |
AN ODE ON BENEVOLENCE:
TO Stephen Beckingham Esq;
I.
Did my artless Numbers swellSweeter than the Teian Shell,
Could I paint the vernal Hours,
And of Love describe the Pow'rs,
Till each Youth shall think my Song
Always sweet, and never long,
The winged and the fiery Steed,
That left one Rider on th'Aleian Plain,
Whom Pindar rode and spur'd him in his Speed,
If with a Plume from Homer's Wing I write,
Like Maro, or the British Bard who led
The proud revolted Seraphim to Fight,
Hurling Defyance at the World's great Head,
If, like the Father of the Roman State,
I to my Voice th'attentive Ear could chain,
And by the Force of Words could soften Hate,
Or make th'afflicted Wretch forget his Pain,
If in the richly furnish'd Breast,
Where all the Pow'rs of Song reside,
Benevolence is not a Guest,
'Tis all within but selfish Pride.
The Verse which knows not Virtue's Call,
The Speech like venal Beauty fair,
Is, like the Trumpet's Clangor, all
But empty Sound and barren Air.
II.
O! Beckingham of Woden's early'st TrainWhich came to view Britannia's seagirt Land,
Who sought a milder Home, nor sought in vain,
Than foggy Zealand or Batavia's Strand,
O! thou perhaps of pious Sabert's Blood,
By Ricula deriv'd from Hengist bold,
From whose rich Veins perhaps thy purple Flood
Has thro uninterrupted Channels roll'd,
Accept the Verse which Friendship bids me pay
The grateful Tribute to thy Merits due:
'Tis thy lov'd Virtue which inspires the Lay,
Whose Shrine is dayly visited by you.
III.
Goddess of celestial Race,Never from the Throne of Grace,
But coæval with thy Sire,
Breathing Truth and vital Fire,
By whatever Name implor'd,
In the Semblance of the Dove,
Grace or universal Love,
Or, thy Bountys to dispense,
Come divine Benevolence:
Thee, whose Deity they feel,
All invoke, to thee they kneel;
Thus the Race of Cyrus see
Rising Suns, and worship thee:
Thou and Wisdom by thy Side,
Wisdom never erring Guide,
With thy Father cloath'd with Pow'r,
Saw the first created Hour:
Phœbus then his Course began,
All benevolent to Man.
IV.
Queen of Bliss, to thee we oweThat unnumber'd Fountains flow,
That the Herds the Valleys fill,
And the bleating Flocks the Hill,
That the Dews refresh the Land,
Which rewards the Lab'rer's Hand:
You bid the Sylvan Honours rise,
From you descend the fruitful Show'rs,
As with a Garment cloath the Earth with Flow'rs:
Thy Sire, by whose Command the Planets roll,
Whose the Succession of the Day and Night,
Of all that is the universal Soul,
Consults in ev'ry Act thy sole Delight:
To thee the Empire of the World he gave,
And to Obedience join'd a joyful State;
Thy Subjects must be free, not one a Slave;
Without thee all is Enmity and Hate:
The Child of Folly and of Pride,
Ambition, with her lawless Train,
Impetuous over Land and Tyde,
Oft drives thee from thy peaceful Reign:
The regal Ensigns then advance;
Shameless the venal Poet sings;
Riot and Pomp then lead the Dance,
First in the Pageantry of Kings:
V.
The midnight Masquerade, deep Source of Vice,Uncheck'd prevails, and Truth, and Honour, bleeds,
Nobles profess the Science of the Dice,
While Av'rice on the Wrecks of Riot feeds.
O! thou, my sacred Subject and my Muse,
Turn from th'offensive Sight thy star-bright Eyes;
Where to thy Deity new Temples rise,
Where Coram's Structure stands, by thee uprais'd,
A fair Memorial to the Sons of Men
Of what deserves their Love, more to be prais'd
Than the proud Dome which speaks the Art of Wren:
VI.
Pleas'd we see, O! Goddess, thereHelpless Innocence thy Care,
By thy Vot'rys call'd to Life,
Rescued from the bloody Knife,
From a painful State of Sin,
From the Pangs of Guilt within:
Plac'd by thee in Virtue's Cell,
With the Cherub Health they dwell,
By Industry's careful Hand
Render'd useful to the Land,
By Religion taught to know
What to thee and Heav'n they owe.
Rescued from an early Grave
Many fair, and many brave,
May in these and future Days
Conquer Hearts and merit Praise.
Blakes and Russels yet unborn
May the British Deck adorn,
Hence may Columellas rise.
VII.
What Delight Reflection bringsFrom the Mind's exhaustless Springs,
When no mean Desires controul
The divine majestic Soul!
Reason then the Passions guides,
And Benevolence presides:
Nor Envy then, nor Hate, deforms,
Nor Avarice, the human Breast,
Infernal Hags, as turbulent as Storms
Which never let the troubled Waters rest.
Happy the Mind, above the Views of Earth,
Where placid and supreme this Goddess reigns,
Enlarg'd and panting for a second Birth,
In Climes empyreal and olympian Plains!
Such are the Joys which fill a Shaftesb'ry's Breast,
And such the Expectations of the Fair,
With whom his earthly Pilgrimage is bless'd,
Who needs but little Change translated there!
A welcome Guest, as Fancy leads,
Amidst eternal fragrant Groves,
Or never fading flow'ry Meads:
But late beneath celestial Skys,
Arriv'd, his God, his constant Theme,
He sees with more discerning Eyes,
As one arising from a Dream:
VIII.
The Courtenays there, deriv'd of antient Kings,Whose Charity was here their fair Renown,
Receive from Virtue's everlasting Springs
Rewards more precious than the Gallic Crown:
Long may their Heir on Devon's healthful Plain,
Where hoary Ex's silver Currents glide,
In his paternal Tow'rs of Bliss remain,
Benevolence his Goddess and his Guide:
The Fountain she of ev'ry earthly Good,
The Source of Health which never knows Decay;
For her the Sons of Liberty withstood,
And ever will withstand, tyrannic Sway.
IX.
Let the Muse, to Merit true,Pay to Falkland's Shade his due;
Few and troubled were his Days;
But unbounded is his Praise;
Sacred to the noble Youth
Were Benevolence and Truth:
These are Ligonier's Supplys,
When beneath inclement Skys,
When Security is fled,
And the Field is strew'd with dead:
He, as if for others born,
Looks on Wealth with noble Scorn.
Charity the Lyre has strung,
And inspir'd the Breast of Young;
She secures th'immortal Crown,
And the Muse her Priest's Renown.
These are, Beckingham, the Pow'rs
Which adorn and bless our Hours;
These shall raise thee to the Skys,
Where no Doubts shall ever rise.
Bellerophon: his Story is related in the sixth Book of Homer's Ilias, concluding with his solitary Wanderings in the Aleian Plain, and avoiding human Society; but his unsuccessful Attempt to mount to Heaven on the Back of Pegasus is told by the Scholiast on Verse 155; who says that those Plains in Lycia on which he fell were called Aleian from him; because there (αλατο) he wandered: this Fable contains a Lesson of Morality against presumptuous Enterprises, and, as the Flight was made on the Back of Pegasus, it seems intended as a Warning particularly to Men of mistaken Talents in their Attempts at Poetry.
The Beckinghams are one of the oldest Saxon Familys in this Island: their Place of Residence, many Centurys passed, and thro a great Length of Time, was Beckinghamhall in the Parish of Tolshunt-Beckingham in the County of Essex; where the present Mr. Stephen Beckingham has Possessions which have been in the Family, from Father to Son, from many Reigns before the Normand Conquest to this Time.
Erchenwin, the seventh in Descent from the third Son of Woden, was the first King of Essex: he reigned sixty Years, from 527 to 587; and Sabert, his Grandson, was the first Christian King; whose Mother Ricula, Sister of Ethelbert King of Kent and fourth from Hengist, was a great Promoter of his Conversion. Sabert was the Founder of St. Paul's Church; in which he was buryed: he was a Prince of strict Piety and Justice.
The Boys are designed for Navigation and Husbandry: I have seen many of them employed in making Nets for the Herring Fishery; by which a greatly charitable Foundation is made instrumental to another national Good. I refer my Readers to the printed Account of the Hospital for the Maintenance and Education of exposed and deserted young Children and the Regulations for managing the Hospital; in which they will see the good OEconomy and Prudence of the Establishment.
This Nobleman, who was slain in the Battel of Newbery, was a remarkable Cherisher of Worth where-ever he found it: he is sayed, by his noble Historian the Earl of Clarendon, to have impaired his own Fortune by largely administering the Comforts of Life to Men of Learning and Genius who laboured under scanty Circumstances.
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