The Works of Hildebrand Jacob ... Containing Poems on Various Subjects, and Occasions; With the Fatal Constancy, a Tragedy; and Several Pieces in Prose. The Greatest Part Never Before Publish'd |
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 | The Works of Hildebrand Jacob |  |
1
THE Muse's Invitation;
A POEM.
Musis amicus, tristitiam, & metus
Tradam protervis in mare Creticum
Portare ventis—
Horat.
Tradam protervis in mare Creticum
Portare ventis—
Horat.
3
Rise! said the Muse, and bid adieu
To Worldly Thoughts! My Flight pursue!
When once resolv'd to follow me,
Far happier thy Life shall be,
Than his, who, on a Peaceful Throne,
Beholds extended Realms his own;
Who boasts of Triumphs, and detains
His trembling Enemies in Chains:
For him shou'd rich Pactolus flow,
No Bliss like thine he e'er shall know.
To Worldly Thoughts! My Flight pursue!
When once resolv'd to follow me,
Far happier thy Life shall be,
Than his, who, on a Peaceful Throne,
Beholds extended Realms his own;
Who boasts of Triumphs, and detains
His trembling Enemies in Chains:
For him shou'd rich Pactolus flow,
No Bliss like thine he e'er shall know.
4
I'll bear thee on my Wings on high
Thro' the bright Wonders of the Sky,
'Midst Crouds of Worlds, and form thy Ears,
To reach the Music of the Spheres.
Thro' the bright Wonders of the Sky,
'Midst Crouds of Worlds, and form thy Ears,
To reach the Music of the Spheres.
From thence with rapid Flight we'll go,
And fathom all the Depths below;
See all that Pluto's Kingdom yields,
And tread the blest Elysian Fields
With Heroes and the Bards of old,
Of whom such wond'rous Things are told:
Charon his Bark will not refuse,
Or Cerberus oppose the Muse.
And fathom all the Depths below;
See all that Pluto's Kingdom yields,
And tread the blest Elysian Fields
With Heroes and the Bards of old,
Of whom such wond'rous Things are told:
Charon his Bark will not refuse,
Or Cerberus oppose the Muse.
We then may visit Neptune's Court,
Behold the Nymphs, and Tritons sport;
Make Proteus hidden Truths disclose;
And pluck the Coral, as it grows.
Behold the Nymphs, and Tritons sport;
Make Proteus hidden Truths disclose;
And pluck the Coral, as it grows.
Or, weary'd with our hasty Flight,
We'll seek some Promontory's Height,
Whence we may view the Ocean smile;
Or with a Storm the Ship beguile,
While his big Waves run Mountain high,
And lift the Pinnace to the Sky.
Here, while the Winds and Billows roar,
Secure, this Elemental War
To restless Mortals we'll compare,
Who, in Ambition's Tempest toss'd,
Insatiate, labour, 'till they're lost.
We'll seek some Promontory's Height,
Whence we may view the Ocean smile;
Or with a Storm the Ship beguile,
5
And lift the Pinnace to the Sky.
Here, while the Winds and Billows roar,
Secure, this Elemental War
To restless Mortals we'll compare,
Who, in Ambition's Tempest toss'd,
Insatiate, labour, 'till they're lost.
But now shou'd rising Stars invite,
And Phœbe glad the silent Night,
We'll haunt the Plains, where may be seen
The Fairy Revels on the Green.
And Phœbe glad the silent Night,
We'll haunt the Plains, where may be seen
The Fairy Revels on the Green.
Or if the Sun enforce his Ray,
In cooling Shades we'll lose the Day,
Where Dryads, Satyrs, Fauns resort,
And Pan receives his Rustic Court.
When Bacchus, still the Poet's Friend,
His mystic Fury deigns to lend,
Here often in thy sacred Trance
The Forest shall appear to dance;
The Thracian Hills thou'lt fancy nigh,
And frantic Mænads rushing by.
In cooling Shades we'll lose the Day,
Where Dryads, Satyrs, Fauns resort,
And Pan receives his Rustic Court.
When Bacchus, still the Poet's Friend,
His mystic Fury deigns to lend,
Here often in thy sacred Trance
The Forest shall appear to dance;
6
And frantic Mænads rushing by.
Th' Enthusiastic Madness stay'd,
In Slumbers, thou shalt be convey'd
To Helicon's inspiring Rill,
Where thou may'st bathe, and drink thy Fill,
Hear all the Muses in a Quire,
And Phœbus, with his golden Lyre,
While Venus, and the Graces meet,
Our charming Numbers to repeat,
Or, Hand in Hand, in measur'd Rounds,
Dance to our soft, melodious Sounds.
In Slumbers, thou shalt be convey'd
To Helicon's inspiring Rill,
Where thou may'st bathe, and drink thy Fill,
Hear all the Muses in a Quire,
And Phœbus, with his golden Lyre,
While Venus, and the Graces meet,
Our charming Numbers to repeat,
Or, Hand in Hand, in measur'd Rounds,
Dance to our soft, melodious Sounds.
Thus wilt thou live, from Danger free,
Happy with Cloë, and with me,
While Mars on troubled Europe frowns,
And Victory prepares her Crowns.
Happy with Cloë, and with me,
While Mars on troubled Europe frowns,
And Victory prepares her Crowns.
7
Answer to the Muse.
Pleasing Goddess, I obey!In your Fane I hang my Arms!
What should tempt me, here to stay?
Free from all, but Cloe's Charms,
To your Summons I, resign'd,
Follow with a docile Mind.
Neptune's Remonstrance.
Written in 1715.
'Twas calm, and Neptune on the Main
With Amphitrite, and his Train,
Thro' Britain's Channel took his Way;
Zephyr alone had Leave to play:
The Voice of Discord in his Isle
He heard, and stay'd his Car awhile.
With Amphitrite, and his Train,
Thro' Britain's Channel took his Way;
Zephyr alone had Leave to play:
8
He heard, and stay'd his Car awhile.
From Albion what strikes my Ear?
He cry'd, my favour'd Sons, I fear,
Your past Contentions are forgot,
Whilom so fatal, and so hot,
When Civil Rage the Sword display'd,
And Brother Brother's Wrath essay'd!
Does no sad Memory remain
Of bleeding Charles, and Naseby's Plain?
To Arms again your Trumpets sound,
As tho' ye trod on foreign Ground.
What Havock, Mars, do you prepare?
Why do ye rush, my Sons, to War?
Blind, stubborn Race, as tho' I meant,
When Britain, from yon Shoar I rent,
Of old, by this Earth-shaking Arm,
That ye alone your selves should harm!
With me my Kingdom ye divide,
And scourge remotest Nations Pride;
Where e'er my Billows I controul,
From Thule, to the Southern Pole,
Your dreaded Fleets unrival'd go,
Conquer, restore, destroy, bestow;
Join'd by your Ships the Indies meet,
And heap their Treasures at your Feet.
More cou'd I grant? rash Sons unite!
These Feuds your former Foes invite:
Wou'd ye your ancient Lords invoke,
And try once more the Norman Yoke?
Are ye so weary of your Ease?
Can Liberty so much displease?
Inslav'd, and conquer'd must ye be,
To learn in Chains ye once were free?
Shou'd ye raise Fifty Temples more,
Nay, to the Church her Lands restore,
What would avail these pious Deeds,
If Britain by her Children bleeds?
He cry'd, my favour'd Sons, I fear,
Your past Contentions are forgot,
Whilom so fatal, and so hot,
When Civil Rage the Sword display'd,
And Brother Brother's Wrath essay'd!
Does no sad Memory remain
Of bleeding Charles, and Naseby's Plain?
To Arms again your Trumpets sound,
As tho' ye trod on foreign Ground.
What Havock, Mars, do you prepare?
Why do ye rush, my Sons, to War?
Blind, stubborn Race, as tho' I meant,
When Britain, from yon Shoar I rent,
Of old, by this Earth-shaking Arm,
That ye alone your selves should harm!
With me my Kingdom ye divide,
And scourge remotest Nations Pride;
9
From Thule, to the Southern Pole,
Your dreaded Fleets unrival'd go,
Conquer, restore, destroy, bestow;
Join'd by your Ships the Indies meet,
And heap their Treasures at your Feet.
More cou'd I grant? rash Sons unite!
These Feuds your former Foes invite:
Wou'd ye your ancient Lords invoke,
And try once more the Norman Yoke?
Are ye so weary of your Ease?
Can Liberty so much displease?
Inslav'd, and conquer'd must ye be,
To learn in Chains ye once were free?
Shou'd ye raise Fifty Temples more,
Nay, to the Church her Lands restore,
What would avail these pious Deeds,
If Britain by her Children bleeds?
10
The Patriot.
We'll venture all in Virtue's sacred Cause,
Proud to expire for Liberty, and Laws!
Thus nobly shall we fall, and, like the Sun,
Set glorious, when our bold Race is run.
But O vile Age! produce us, if you can,
Another brave, sincere, well-meaning Man,
Who of his proper Garb is not afraid,
Tho' the whole World appears in Masquerade;
But dares expose to all his honest Face,
As fearless of its Danger as Disgrace;
Whose purer Soul admits of no Allay;
But spurns the Dross of Interest away;
Who, unacquainted with a selfish End,
Is justly call'd a Patriot, and a Friend;
Who knows at once how to be Good, and Great,
And joins his Fortune to his Country's Fate:
Who partially maintains no Faction's Cause,
And follows only, where his Conscience draws;
Whose gen'rous Heart scorns to be blest alone;
But for his Nation's Good impairs his own.
Show such a Man, so excellent, so rare,
Whose Soul is dealt out in so large a share;
We then no more will absent Justice mourn;
But hope to see the golden Age return!
Proud to expire for Liberty, and Laws!
Thus nobly shall we fall, and, like the Sun,
Set glorious, when our bold Race is run.
But O vile Age! produce us, if you can,
Another brave, sincere, well-meaning Man,
Who of his proper Garb is not afraid,
Tho' the whole World appears in Masquerade;
But dares expose to all his honest Face,
As fearless of its Danger as Disgrace;
Whose purer Soul admits of no Allay;
But spurns the Dross of Interest away;
Who, unacquainted with a selfish End,
Is justly call'd a Patriot, and a Friend;
Who knows at once how to be Good, and Great,
And joins his Fortune to his Country's Fate:
11
And follows only, where his Conscience draws;
Whose gen'rous Heart scorns to be blest alone;
But for his Nation's Good impairs his own.
Show such a Man, so excellent, so rare,
Whose Soul is dealt out in so large a share;
We then no more will absent Justice mourn;
But hope to see the golden Age return!
Thus Alcibiades has often said
On either Side and each alike betray'd.
On either Side and each alike betray'd.
BEDLAM.
—Peccatur & extra. Hor.
You who like Proteus, in all Shapes appear,
And every Hue, like the Camelion, wear,
Phantasia, airy Pow'r! in humbler Lays
We sing your Triumphs, and your Temple raise.
There, far from Reason, absolute you reign,
And scorn your proud unequal Rival's Chain:
A thousand restless Forms around you sport,
A thousand busy Dreams your Throne support;
Vain Terrors your severer Orders wait,
And gay, delusive Hopes attend your State.
And every Hue, like the Camelion, wear,
Phantasia, airy Pow'r! in humbler Lays
We sing your Triumphs, and your Temple raise.
12
And scorn your proud unequal Rival's Chain:
A thousand restless Forms around you sport,
A thousand busy Dreams your Throne support;
Vain Terrors your severer Orders wait,
And gay, delusive Hopes attend your State.
In Britain, still for some new Madness fam'd,
When Madmen long had rag'd, and unrestrain'd,
Near Old Augusta's Walls the spacious Seat,
The wretched, wandring Lunatick's Retreat,
Arose Majestic to the Founders Fame,
And Bedlam, from its Purpose, is its Name.
When Madmen long had rag'd, and unrestrain'd,
Near Old Augusta's Walls the spacious Seat,
The wretched, wandring Lunatick's Retreat,
Arose Majestic to the Founders Fame,
And Bedlam, from its Purpose, is its Name.
Here every Error of the lawless Mind,
The Monsters of distemper'd Thought we find,
Madness in all Extremes: Serene, and mild;
Where Euclid's Sons run regularly wild;
Where patient Chymists still their Labour ply;
And where the frantick Dead supinely lie.
The Monsters of distemper'd Thought we find,
Madness in all Extremes: Serene, and mild;
Where Euclid's Sons run regularly wild;
Where patient Chymists still their Labour ply;
And where the frantick Dead supinely lie.
13
Or loudly raving where Ambition reigns,
O'er prostrate Foes, and wide-extending Plains,
With Tyrants of all Kinds, and each Degree
From Pedagogue to Eastern Majesty.
O'er prostrate Foes, and wide-extending Plains,
With Tyrants of all Kinds, and each Degree
From Pedagogue to Eastern Majesty.
Or the pale Wretch in one sad Posture found,
With fix'd, and hollow Eyes surveys the Ground,
For ever dwells on the Consuming Care,
And every Thing he turns to his Despair:
Now tells of adverse Fate, and fondly dreams
Of troubled Oceans, and contending Streams;
Or weeps, like Niobe, and weary strays
O'er false, inchanted Ground, and thorny Ways;
Or threatning Ghosts, arising to his View,
On lonely Sands, and Shoars the Wretch pursue;
Or all around a thousand Furies glare,
And shake their fiery Brands, and snaky Hair.
With fix'd, and hollow Eyes surveys the Ground,
For ever dwells on the Consuming Care,
And every Thing he turns to his Despair:
Now tells of adverse Fate, and fondly dreams
Of troubled Oceans, and contending Streams;
Or weeps, like Niobe, and weary strays
O'er false, inchanted Ground, and thorny Ways;
Or threatning Ghosts, arising to his View,
On lonely Sands, and Shoars the Wretch pursue;
Or all around a thousand Furies glare,
And shake their fiery Brands, and snaky Hair.
For grateful Errors some their Reason change,
And in the gaudy Fields of Fancy range:
Magnific to their wild, delighted Eyes
Peruvian Roofs, and Parian Columns rise;
Beneath their Thrones the Nile, and Ganges meet,
And waft unbounded Riches to their Feet;
Kind Nymphs around with gay Lyæus dance,
And not one Fear invades the golden Trance,
Happy till envious Art the Bane restore,
And sad, returning Reason finds 'em poor.
Nor here alone are these Delusions kind,
Nor to our Age, nor to our Clime confin'd:
Athens of old a famous Beggar knew,
Who rich, and happy in Distraction grew;
Loud thro' the throng'd Piræum he commands
The Trade of mighty Nations in his Hands,
Till taught his long neglected Rags to own,
And curse the Hayles, and Shadwell of the Town.
And in the gaudy Fields of Fancy range:
Magnific to their wild, delighted Eyes
Peruvian Roofs, and Parian Columns rise;
14
And waft unbounded Riches to their Feet;
Kind Nymphs around with gay Lyæus dance,
And not one Fear invades the golden Trance,
Happy till envious Art the Bane restore,
And sad, returning Reason finds 'em poor.
Nor here alone are these Delusions kind,
Nor to our Age, nor to our Clime confin'd:
Athens of old a famous Beggar knew,
Who rich, and happy in Distraction grew;
Loud thro' the throng'd Piræum he commands
The Trade of mighty Nations in his Hands,
Till taught his long neglected Rags to own,
And curse the Hayles, and Shadwell of the Town.
Near these the sage Observer of the Skies,
Imp'd with Icarian Wings, attempts to rise,
The World of Lunar Nations to surprise;
Impatient to possess the distant Ground,
And plough the fertile Plains himself has found.
Imp'd with Icarian Wings, attempts to rise,
The World of Lunar Nations to surprise;
15
And plough the fertile Plains himself has found.
Damn'd Authors next the tasteless Age deplore;
Many in humble Prose; in Meeter more.
These, Phœbus, did your wholesome Laws disclaim,
And fondly hop'd with Ease to purchase Fame:
Here oft in sweet Confusion they excel;
Or mighty Deeds in mighty Madness tell,
While Seas of Crimson Gore the Plain o'erspread,
“And Heaven turns pale to see us look so red.
Or Nature's general Wreck they bravely dare,
The whirling Globe from off its Axle tear,
Hurl Worlds at Worlds, eclipse each heav'nly Spark,
“While Gods meet Gods, and justle in the Dark.
Many in humble Prose; in Meeter more.
These, Phœbus, did your wholesome Laws disclaim,
And fondly hop'd with Ease to purchase Fame:
Here oft in sweet Confusion they excel;
Or mighty Deeds in mighty Madness tell,
While Seas of Crimson Gore the Plain o'erspread,
“And Heaven turns pale to see us look so red.
Or Nature's general Wreck they bravely dare,
The whirling Globe from off its Axle tear,
Hurl Worlds at Worlds, eclipse each heav'nly Spark,
“While Gods meet Gods, and justle in the Dark.
With you,
bright Queen of Error, unconfin'd
They soar, and leave the Weight of Sense behind,
Thus on your wanton Wings supinely ride,
There most secure, where most they want a Guide.
With you, and Art of old the tuneful Quire
To Heav'n itself with Safety could aspire,
Sing the blest State of the immortal Pow'rs,
Their Loves, their Nectar, and their golden Bow'rs.
Or else descending they the Deep explore,
And thro' the World of Waters find a Shoar,
Visit the Nereids crystalline Retreats,
Their Groves of Coral, and their Ouzy Seats.
Or farther does your restless Pow'r invite
To Realms of Chaos, and eternal Night?
Tuneful amidst the horrid Wreck they soar,
And celebrate the Elemental War.
Or in a milder Region wou'd they tread?
Behold the quiet Mansion of the Dead!
Silent, and fleeting Shades compose the Song,
And Lethe rouls his lazy Wave along.
They soar, and leave the Weight of Sense behind,
Thus on your wanton Wings supinely ride,
There most secure, where most they want a Guide.
16
To Heav'n itself with Safety could aspire,
Sing the blest State of the immortal Pow'rs,
Their Loves, their Nectar, and their golden Bow'rs.
Or else descending they the Deep explore,
And thro' the World of Waters find a Shoar,
Visit the Nereids crystalline Retreats,
Their Groves of Coral, and their Ouzy Seats.
Or farther does your restless Pow'r invite
To Realms of Chaos, and eternal Night?
Tuneful amidst the horrid Wreck they soar,
And celebrate the Elemental War.
Or in a milder Region wou'd they tread?
Behold the quiet Mansion of the Dead!
Silent, and fleeting Shades compose the Song,
And Lethe rouls his lazy Wave along.
Turn, various Goddess, turn your beauteous Face!
We sing your Triumphs, you your Triumphs grace!
O! cou'd you here your kindly Aid impart,
And lend your animating Pow'r to Art,
Propitious, as when every Grace you bring
To Congreve's Art, when Congreve deigns to sing,
While Echo pleas'd conveys the Charm around,
And Envy's self, compos'd, devours the Sound!
We sing your Triumphs, you your Triumphs grace!
O! cou'd you here your kindly Aid impart,
And lend your animating Pow'r to Art,
17
To Congreve's Art, when Congreve deigns to sing,
While Echo pleas'd conveys the Charm around,
And Envy's self, compos'd, devours the Sound!
Yet why, tho' artless all, do we delay
Your Sport, insulting Venus, to display?
Unequal Forms, and Hearts you here unite;
Or Nature's Laws reverse in wanton Spight,
While Corydon laments his absent Swains,
And slighted Sappho of her Nymphs complains.
Your Sport, insulting Venus, to display?
Unequal Forms, and Hearts you here unite;
Or Nature's Laws reverse in wanton Spight,
While Corydon laments his absent Swains,
And slighted Sappho of her Nymphs complains.
But see a love-sick Maid, with Sighs oppress'd,
Shines with superior Grace amidst the rest!
Romantic Tales in Heaps compose her Bed,
And vast Cassandra props her pensive Head.
Sigh to her Sighs, and long to share her Pains,
And thus the fond, distracted Fair complains.
Shines with superior Grace amidst the rest!
Romantic Tales in Heaps compose her Bed,
And vast Cassandra props her pensive Head.
Sigh to her Sighs, and long to share her Pains,
And thus the fond, distracted Fair complains.
Sprung from a Royal Race of high Renown,
The wandring Heiress of an Eastern Crown
You here behold! a miserable Maid!
By hapless Love to endless Care bettay'd!
Early my Fame to distant Nations flew,
And wondring Crouds from every Nation drew,
Shining in Arms for Myra's Love they vie,
And many in pursuit of Myra die.
Ador'd by all, one only I approve,
And him, and him alone I vow to love:
But e'er the holy Priest might joyn our Hands,
A fatal Task my Royal Sire commands.
Proud of the gen'rous Toil, the Hero goes
In Quest of Glory, and our Country's Foes.
Three tedious Moons his Absence I deplore,
And watch, solicitous, the well known Shoar,
The Way where then the brave Orlando pass'd,
When these o'erflowing Eyes beheld him last.
At length I vow, impatient of Delay,
To find my Love, or wander Life away.
'Twas in the solemn Noon of silent Night,
When guided by Diana's doubtful Light,
Along the winding Coast I took my Flight.
An Age o'er Plains, o'er Forrests I'm convey'd,
And Wasts, where yet no human Path is made,
Spells, Monsters Rage, and Tyrant's Threats endure,
And Pains Orlando's Love alone can cure.
Tell me, ye courteous Knights, whose gen'rous Care
Protects the Injur'd, and relieves the Fair
Tell me what Magic Pow'rs, what Circe's Charms,
Detain Orlando from his Myra's Arms,
Tell me, O, tell me this, and, O, invade
The Giants Tow'rs, and free a Captive Maid!
The wandring Heiress of an Eastern Crown
18
By hapless Love to endless Care bettay'd!
Early my Fame to distant Nations flew,
And wondring Crouds from every Nation drew,
Shining in Arms for Myra's Love they vie,
And many in pursuit of Myra die.
Ador'd by all, one only I approve,
And him, and him alone I vow to love:
But e'er the holy Priest might joyn our Hands,
A fatal Task my Royal Sire commands.
Proud of the gen'rous Toil, the Hero goes
In Quest of Glory, and our Country's Foes.
Three tedious Moons his Absence I deplore,
And watch, solicitous, the well known Shoar,
The Way where then the brave Orlando pass'd,
When these o'erflowing Eyes beheld him last.
At length I vow, impatient of Delay,
To find my Love, or wander Life away.
19
When guided by Diana's doubtful Light,
Along the winding Coast I took my Flight.
An Age o'er Plains, o'er Forrests I'm convey'd,
And Wasts, where yet no human Path is made,
Spells, Monsters Rage, and Tyrant's Threats endure,
And Pains Orlando's Love alone can cure.
Tell me, ye courteous Knights, whose gen'rous Care
Protects the Injur'd, and relieves the Fair
Tell me what Magic Pow'rs, what Circe's Charms,
Detain Orlando from his Myra's Arms,
Tell me, O, tell me this, and, O, invade
The Giants Tow'rs, and free a Captive Maid!
Love has a thousand more fantastic Slaves,
And each by Turns a different Madness raves,
Triumphant now, and now again distress'd,
By Hope elated, or by Fear depress'd.
And each by Turns a different Madness raves,
Triumphant now, and now again distress'd,
By Hope elated, or by Fear depress'd.
Religion next, and Politicks combine,
And in one friendly League of Madness joyn
The wild Projector, Patriot, and Divine.
Of Schisms yet untaught, unpractic'd Schemes,
And Credit still to fall the Frantic Dreams.
Here Cynthia, once a fam'd Coquet, retires,
And burns with Manly Rage, and Roman Fires,
Scorns the malicious Art, her Beauty past,
And changes Love for Politicks at last.
Loud from her Cell the raging Sibyl screams
Mysterious Errors, and portentous Dreams;
War horrid War, and Peace by turns she sings,
And Bedlam with the Fate of Europe rings.
For these our sacred College chiefly stands,
And half our Lodgings are in Statesmen's Hands;
Tremendous Croud! with various Rage possess'd,
And ever more tumultous than the rest.
And in one friendly League of Madness joyn
The wild Projector, Patriot, and Divine.
20
And Credit still to fall the Frantic Dreams.
Here Cynthia, once a fam'd Coquet, retires,
And burns with Manly Rage, and Roman Fires,
Scorns the malicious Art, her Beauty past,
And changes Love for Politicks at last.
Loud from her Cell the raging Sibyl screams
Mysterious Errors, and portentous Dreams;
War horrid War, and Peace by turns she sings,
And Bedlam with the Fate of Europe rings.
For these our sacred College chiefly stands,
And half our Lodgings are in Statesmen's Hands;
Tremendous Croud! with various Rage possess'd,
And ever more tumultous than the rest.
Yet few of all the raving Herd are found
So loud, as he, who wou'd be thought most sound.
So loud, as he, who wou'd be thought most sound.
Pity, he cries, a sad, but wholesom Mind,
A Wretch by false impatient Heirs confin'd!
Bedlam, at least, one reas'ning Slave contains,
And many yet without deserve these Chains:
Amidst his shining Hoard Avaro wants,
Hoarse Stentor sings, and bright Aurelia paints.
On these let Bedlam's just Correction fall,
On these and on my impious Prodigal!
A Wretch by false impatient Heirs confin'd!
Bedlam, at least, one reas'ning Slave contains,
And many yet without deserve these Chains:
21
Hoarse Stentor sings, and bright Aurelia paints.
On these let Bedlam's just Correction fall,
On these and on my impious Prodigal!
Not far from hence, and in obscurer Cells
Spleen with her meagre, faded People dwells.
A hundred Heads the gloomy Monster bears,
Each Head by Turns a hundred Faces wears,
Inspiring all the Train of needless Cares.
Phantasia, you the deadly Pest of Yore,
On Albion's Chalky Cliffs to Eurus bore:
She still her Sire attends, and haunts the cloudy Shoar.
Spleen with her meagre, faded People dwells.
A hundred Heads the gloomy Monster bears,
Each Head by Turns a hundred Faces wears,
Inspiring all the Train of needless Cares.
Phantasia, you the deadly Pest of Yore,
On Albion's Chalky Cliffs to Eurus bore:
She still her Sire attends, and haunts the cloudy Shoar.
Near these the Lunatick, in fond Despair,
Oft to th'inconstant Moon directs his Pray'r,
Sollicitous observes her Nightly Way,
As thro' the pathless Heav'n she seems to stray,
To her of short liv'd Intervals complains,
And feels already the approaching Change.
Oft to th'inconstant Moon directs his Pray'r,
Sollicitous observes her Nightly Way,
As thro' the pathless Heav'n she seems to stray,
To her of short liv'd Intervals complains,
And feels already the approaching Change.
22
'Twas here, amidst the Croud of gaping Fools,
A celebrated Member of the Schools
Pafs'd gravely on, with slow, majestick Pace,
The Pride of useless Learning in his Face.
Tir'd of the noisy Croud, away, ye rude,
Away, he cry'd, obstreprous Multitude!
Hence! your unseasonable Mirth give o'er!
Or learn of me lost Reason to deplore,
Profane, illiterate Herd! who joy to see
Man fallen from his native Dignity.
Man! Lordly Creature! for whose only Aid
The Earth and all th' Ethereal Lamps were made.
To these, sublime, his stately Front he rears,
And Majesty in all his Form appears,
And Heaven to that Glorious Form has join'd
A quick, discerning, bright, capacious Mind,
And plac'd him next to the Angelic Kind.
A celebrated Member of the Schools
Pafs'd gravely on, with slow, majestick Pace,
The Pride of useless Learning in his Face.
Tir'd of the noisy Croud, away, ye rude,
Away, he cry'd, obstreprous Multitude!
Hence! your unseasonable Mirth give o'er!
Or learn of me lost Reason to deplore,
Profane, illiterate Herd! who joy to see
Man fallen from his native Dignity.
Man! Lordly Creature! for whose only Aid
The Earth and all th' Ethereal Lamps were made.
To these, sublime, his stately Front he rears,
And Majesty in all his Form appears,
And Heaven to that Glorious Form has join'd
A quick, discerning, bright, capacious Mind,
And plac'd him next to the Angelic Kind.
The surly Lunatic, whose Cell was nigh,
Observ'd the canting Pedant stalking by,
And thus accosts him: Hist, Sir Gravity!
When his own Form the Painter wou'd express,
He seldom flatters more, or means it less.
To me this Lordly Creature Man appears
The empty, idle Sport of Hopes, and Fears,
Flying the Thing he did but now adore,
And now pursuing what he fled before;
Of Nature's more unfinish'd Draughts the worst,
And of all Nature's Wretches most accurs'd,
If Flattery and Pride had not conspir'd
To make his Imperfections still admir'd.
At mighty Things he aims with restless Strife,
Beyond the little Purpose of his Life;
Base in Oppression, and in Pow'r severe;
His Glory Arrogance; his Justice Fear:
For Fear of human Nature Laws are made,
For Fear of human Punishment obey'd.
And his sublimest Knowledge seems design'd
To prove the narrow Limits of his Mind.
Some, whom, at least in Silence, all revere,
Like Gods, we own, amidst the Croud appear;
These, tho' they must admire, they basely hate,
Or starve the Worth they dare not imitate.
Yet more ungrateful Truths Mankind must own,
Was Man but to himself sincerely known;
But from the Dawn of Light they turn away,
And fly, like Birds obscene, the hated Day;
Virtues in human Vanity devise,
Which human Weakness ne'er can exercise,
And sooth their Wretchedness with pompous Lies.
Thus Reason is their boasted Attribute,
The mighty difference 'twixt Man, and Brute!
The Flatterer of all, the Guide of none,
And late Reflection of the Wretch undone,
An Armour which in Peace for Pride they bear;
But never of Defence in Time of War.
A Pilot who in Calms alone can guide,
Stem easy Currents, and a gentle Tide;
Who, insolent, and vain, in Safety braves
The sleeping Tempest, and the smiling Waves;
But when strong Winds arise, and Billows roar,
The idle Boaster is of Use no more,
And the poor Veslel breaks upon the Shoar.
Observ'd the canting Pedant stalking by,
And thus accosts him: Hist, Sir Gravity!
23
He seldom flatters more, or means it less.
To me this Lordly Creature Man appears
The empty, idle Sport of Hopes, and Fears,
Flying the Thing he did but now adore,
And now pursuing what he fled before;
Of Nature's more unfinish'd Draughts the worst,
And of all Nature's Wretches most accurs'd,
If Flattery and Pride had not conspir'd
To make his Imperfections still admir'd.
At mighty Things he aims with restless Strife,
Beyond the little Purpose of his Life;
Base in Oppression, and in Pow'r severe;
His Glory Arrogance; his Justice Fear:
For Fear of human Nature Laws are made,
For Fear of human Punishment obey'd.
And his sublimest Knowledge seems design'd
To prove the narrow Limits of his Mind.
Some, whom, at least in Silence, all revere,
Like Gods, we own, amidst the Croud appear;
24
Or starve the Worth they dare not imitate.
Yet more ungrateful Truths Mankind must own,
Was Man but to himself sincerely known;
But from the Dawn of Light they turn away,
And fly, like Birds obscene, the hated Day;
Virtues in human Vanity devise,
Which human Weakness ne'er can exercise,
And sooth their Wretchedness with pompous Lies.
Thus Reason is their boasted Attribute,
The mighty difference 'twixt Man, and Brute!
The Flatterer of all, the Guide of none,
And late Reflection of the Wretch undone,
An Armour which in Peace for Pride they bear;
But never of Defence in Time of War.
A Pilot who in Calms alone can guide,
Stem easy Currents, and a gentle Tide;
Who, insolent, and vain, in Safety braves
The sleeping Tempest, and the smiling Waves;
25
The idle Boaster is of Use no more,
And the poor Veslel breaks upon the Shoar.
Love's Progress.
From the Cradle to the Grave
Mighty Love does all inslave.
First in Miss, and Master's Brain
He begins his idle reign:
Nymphs, and Swains, and purling Streams,
Rival Knights, and rival Queens,
Dreams of Pleasure pure as they,
(Symptoms of approaching Day)
In their dawning Fancies play;
Wishes, which in forming dye,
Tender Sighs they scarce know why.
Sighs, at length, awake Desire,
Love becomes a raging Fire,
Strongly seizes every Part,
Warms the Blood, and wounds the Heart.
Mighty Love does all inslave.
First in Miss, and Master's Brain
He begins his idle reign:
Nymphs, and Swains, and purling Streams,
Rival Knights, and rival Queens,
Dreams of Pleasure pure as they,
(Symptoms of approaching Day)
In their dawning Fancies play;
Wishes, which in forming dye,
Tender Sighs they scarce know why.
26
Love becomes a raging Fire,
Strongly seizes every Part,
Warms the Blood, and wounds the Heart.
Vows to wounded Hearts give Ease;
They profess, believe and please:
Happy, might they here have stay'd!
Soon, believing, they're betray'd:
Prudent, cou'd they yet give o'er!
Each betrays a hundred more,
Still believing, or believ'd,
Still deceiving, or deceiv'd,
Till, at last, the roving God,
Squeamish, whimsical, and odd,
Flying from each empty Vein,
Triumphs in the Head again.
They profess, believe and please:
Happy, might they here have stay'd!
Soon, believing, they're betray'd:
Prudent, cou'd they yet give o'er!
Each betrays a hundred more,
Still believing, or believ'd,
Still deceiving, or deceiv'd,
Till, at last, the roving God,
Squeamish, whimsical, and odd,
Flying from each empty Vein,
Triumphs in the Head again.
27
To Aminta wounded.
'Tis just, Aminta, you are paid
For all the cruel Wounds you've made:
The Bee with arrow keen, tho small
Has on your Lip reveng'd us all.
For all the cruel Wounds you've made:
The Bee with arrow keen, tho small
Has on your Lip reveng'd us all.
No wonder with their dazzling Light.
Your Eyes deceiv'd the Wand'rer's Sight,
While, by your Breath inform'd to steer,
Some fragrant Flow'r it fancy'd near.
Your Eyes deceiv'd the Wand'rer's Sight,
While, by your Breath inform'd to steer,
Some fragrant Flow'r it fancy'd near.
It rages! but how faint the Smart
To that of my tormented Heart?
O, let me heal the Wound! O, joyn,
Afflicted Nymph, your Lip to mine!
To that of my tormented Heart?
O, let me heal the Wound! O, joyn,
Afflicted Nymph, your Lip to mine!
28
From what, Aminta, do you fly?
No Danger in my Kisses lye:
An humbler Aim I mean to take,
And heal, and charm the wound I make.
No Danger in my Kisses lye:
An humbler Aim I mean to take,
And heal, and charm the wound I make.
Resist no longer—now, I swear,
Your Articles are too severe!
The Insect paid but Life, of me
You ask yet more, my Liberty.
Your Articles are too severe!
The Insect paid but Life, of me
You ask yet more, my Liberty.
To a Spider,
making its Web upon a Statue of Minerva.
I
Arachne , dar'st thou place thy LoomBetween those chast, immortal Thighs,
Where none of human Race might come,
Or more prevailing Dietys?
29
II
E'en in the Quarters of thy Foe?Is she no better known than this?
Away, or thou may'st undergoe
Some heavy'r Metamorphosis.
III
Or shou'd she in her Wisdom find,To pour a Deluge from before,
Or blow a Tempest from behind,
Thou, and thy Labours were no more.
To Geron
So
prudent, and so young a Wife!
Old Geron, thou art blest for Life.
So kindly careful of your Health;
So close a Steward of your Wealth;
Still railing at th' expensive Town;
Fond of your Seat, when you are down;
At home in London before Nine,
And ready Dress'd at Noon, to Dine;
Tho' blooming, fair, belov'd, a Prude,
To Beaux, and Coxcombs almost rude.
Old Geron, thou art blest for Life.
So kindly careful of your Health;
So close a Steward of your Wealth;
Still railing at th' expensive Town;
Fond of your Seat, when you are down;
30
And ready Dress'd at Noon, to Dine;
Tho' blooming, fair, belov'd, a Prude,
To Beaux, and Coxcombs almost rude.
I cannot, happy Man! conceive,
What the illnatur'd World believe,
That all this Care she's pleas'd, to take,
Is not for her old Geron's sake;
But for those Twenty Thousand Pounds,
Rich Jewels, and new purchas'd Gounds,
Unsettled yet by Deed, and free,
That you may leave to her, or me.
What the illnatur'd World believe,
That all this Care she's pleas'd, to take,
Is not for her old Geron's sake;
But for those Twenty Thousand Pounds,
Rich Jewels, and new purchas'd Gounds,
Unsettled yet by Deed, and free,
That you may leave to her, or me.
Written on a Glass of Tokay
Had e'er Anacreon, or FlaccusBut tasted of divine Tokay,
They had ador'd Hungarian Bacchus,
And cast their Chios Wine away.
| The Works of Hildebrand Jacob | |