The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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 | The Shamrock |  |
LETTER II.
Inscribed to Miss O REILLY.
May
Pacha Camac,
ever-bounteous Lord,
The pious Chaqui's happy Zeal reward,
By whom my Quipos reach'd thy willing Hands,
And I was bless'd with thy ador'd Commands;
Oh! may the Tree of Virtue ever shed
Its happy Influence on his loyal Head!
Long did my Heart its painful Fears express,
For thy unknown, perhaps, thy vast Distress;
But, when I saw the dear returning Twine,
My Soul expanded in the Search of thine:
My Aza lives, he lives unhurt, and free;
Thanks to the Sun for this one kind Decree:
I am all Rapture, Extacy of Bliss,
No common Frame can taste a Joy like this:
Waking, my Lover all my Thoughts employs;
In Dreams, my Fancy paints succeeding Joys.
Thou liv'st, my Aza, and the solemn Chains,
The Tye, that should unite us, still remains:
Your kind Expressions have, in Part, assuag'd
The sobbing Grief that in my Bosom rag'd:
My Soul, enlighten'd, its Existence owes
To my kind Genius; as the full-blown Rose
Its brilliant Colours from the Sun derives,
So in thy Worth my whole Perfection lives.
But why, alas! when royal Aza's free,
Am I thus kept in dismal Slavery?
My grated Prison still renews my Fears;
Ah! how uncouth, how dreary it appears!
With what Distraction do I view the Scene!
Is this a Dwelling for Peruvia's Queen?
Are these the Robes thy destin'd Wife should wear?
Is this the nuptial Bed I thought to share?
Alas! these Walls afford no costly Pride,
No Bed expectant of a royal Bride:
All's dark and dismal, where the mournful Gloom
Suits but too well the joy-forbidding Room.
But why, dear Man, do I complain of thee?
Can'st thou relieve, or set the Prisoner free?
Ah no! my Lord, those outward Marks of State,
Too well convince me of thy servile Fate:
Can'st thou not feel thy Liberty debarr'd,
In all the Attendance of the watchful Guard?
Through all their fulsome Honours you may trace,
Yours is but Bondage with a milder Face:
Fly from thy Error, and preserve thy Life;
And seek the Arms of thy expecting Wife.
Since Viracocha
has our Loss foretold,
By Dint of Thunder through a Thirst for Gold;
Let us our Pomp with Chearfulness resign,—
If Heaven so wills, shall Mortals dare repine?—
Some lonely Cottage shall secure our Peace,
And all our Days find Liberty and Ease;
No foreign Tyrants shall disturb our Cell;
Nor home-bred Treasons enter where we dwell:
O'er my fond Heart you'll hold imperial Sway,
While I shall boast the Title to obey:
We'll feel the Effects of Avarice no more;
Nor dread the fickle Million's frantic Hour:
We'll beg Protection from the Powers above,
Rich in Possession of each others Love:
Secure in thee, I'll fear no future Harms;
But bless the Fate that gave thee to my Arms.
The pious Chaqui's happy Zeal reward,
By whom my Quipos reach'd thy willing Hands,
And I was bless'd with thy ador'd Commands;
Oh! may the Tree of Virtue ever shed
Its happy Influence on his loyal Head!
Long did my Heart its painful Fears express,
For thy unknown, perhaps, thy vast Distress;
But, when I saw the dear returning Twine,
My Soul expanded in the Search of thine:
My Aza lives, he lives unhurt, and free;
Thanks to the Sun for this one kind Decree:
383
No common Frame can taste a Joy like this:
Waking, my Lover all my Thoughts employs;
In Dreams, my Fancy paints succeeding Joys.
Thou liv'st, my Aza, and the solemn Chains,
The Tye, that should unite us, still remains:
Your kind Expressions have, in Part, assuag'd
The sobbing Grief that in my Bosom rag'd:
My Soul, enlighten'd, its Existence owes
To my kind Genius; as the full-blown Rose
Its brilliant Colours from the Sun derives,
So in thy Worth my whole Perfection lives.
But why, alas! when royal Aza's free,
Am I thus kept in dismal Slavery?
My grated Prison still renews my Fears;
Ah! how uncouth, how dreary it appears!
With what Distraction do I view the Scene!
Is this a Dwelling for Peruvia's Queen?
Are these the Robes thy destin'd Wife should wear?
Is this the nuptial Bed I thought to share?
Alas! these Walls afford no costly Pride,
No Bed expectant of a royal Bride:
All's dark and dismal, where the mournful Gloom
Suits but too well the joy-forbidding Room.
But why, dear Man, do I complain of thee?
Can'st thou relieve, or set the Prisoner free?
Ah no! my Lord, those outward Marks of State,
Too well convince me of thy servile Fate:
Can'st thou not feel thy Liberty debarr'd,
In all the Attendance of the watchful Guard?
Through all their fulsome Honours you may trace,
Yours is but Bondage with a milder Face:
Fly from thy Error, and preserve thy Life;
And seek the Arms of thy expecting Wife.
384
By Dint of Thunder through a Thirst for Gold;
Let us our Pomp with Chearfulness resign,—
If Heaven so wills, shall Mortals dare repine?—
Some lonely Cottage shall secure our Peace,
And all our Days find Liberty and Ease;
No foreign Tyrants shall disturb our Cell;
Nor home-bred Treasons enter where we dwell:
O'er my fond Heart you'll hold imperial Sway,
While I shall boast the Title to obey:
We'll feel the Effects of Avarice no more;
Nor dread the fickle Million's frantic Hour:
We'll beg Protection from the Powers above,
Rich in Possession of each others Love:
Secure in thee, I'll fear no future Harms;
But bless the Fate that gave thee to my Arms.
Alas! my Love, how little did I know
The sharp Misfortunes I was destin'd to!
What horrid Space, what Oceans must divide
Thy widow'd Arms from thy still virgin Bride?
Perhaps my Griefs shall ne'er approach your Ear,
Nor this work'd Tissue in your Sight appear;
But I am fix'd the brave Attempt to make;
It sooths my Care, it is for Aza's Sake.
How shall my Fingers o'er the Clue prevail,
To tell my Ynca the surprizing Tale?
How shall I paint the Ideas I receiv'd,
And what, when told, can scarcely be believ'd?
'Twas now the Time, when peaceful Slumbers close
The Eyes of Mortals to relieve their Woes;
In Tears I lay extended on the Ground;
The Dungeon echoed with a fearful Sound;
Two savage Spaniards, thunder-bearing Men,
Perforce compel me from my gloomy Den:
In this Distress, my female Fears prevail;
My Knees bend trembling; and my Senses fail;
Lost in a Swoon, I can no further tell
What, for a Time, thy poor Betroth'd befel.
But when, compell'd by Youth, and Nature's Force,
The sanguine Stream resum'd its wonted Course;
When once Reflection was return'd again,
And quick Sensation realiz'd my Pain;
My rolling Eyes with wild Attention gaze,
Struck with alternate Terror, and Amaze:
What meant the Change, my Soul was yet to learn;
Anxious, I wait the wish'd-for Light's Return;
When I beheld a Room of small Extent,
From whence exhal'd a loath'd, offensive Scent:
The Chamber moves; alas! my Brain turns round;
I'm all convuls'd upon this rolling Ground;
With tottering Haste, I seek my wretched Bed,
Desponding, while my Steps precarious tread:
Perplexing Wonder, certainly design'd,
By some destructive Power, to hurt Mankind.
Now round my Head the dizzy Mists arise,
And dusky Vapours fleet before my Eyes;
Convulsive Throws my tortur'd Breast invade,
And my cold Limbs refuse their wonted Aid;
Large Drops of Sweat bedew my pallid Cheek,
While deep-fetch'd Groans my inward Torments speak.
At last, with Sickness, Grief, and Care opprest,
My Pain subsided, and I sunk to Rest:
Some friendly Power, in Pity to my Smart,
In stiptic Slumber sooth'd my bleeding Heart;
“For, Nature, tir'd, and harrass'd out with Care,
“Sinks down to Rest, sometimes, amidst Despair.”
Scarce was I lost in unaccustom'd Ease,
(Ah! fleeting Bliss! short Interval of Peace!)
When a tremendous, and more horrid Sound,
Than that of Yalpa, shook the Mansion round:
Such Shock shall happen, when the Moon is hurl'd,
By angry Fate, to crush the nether World:
Dread Thunders roar, and fire-wing'd Lightnings play;
While Clouds of sulphurous Smoak obscure the Day:
At first, the Tumult threaten'd from afar,
The cool Commencement of the distant War;
But, when more near the deafening Horror drew,
Then to its Height the fierce Contention grew:
After a While it gradually decreas'd;
'Till, at the last, the loud Explosion ceas'd:
When, now, methought, I heard the piteous Cries
Of blasted Spaniards rend the avenging Skies—
For, can these Wretches e'er presume that Heaven
O'erlooks their Crimes; or, hope those Crimes forgiven?
Almighty Justice always strikes, though slow,
Like the high-lifted Arm, the mightier Blow.—
Alas! alas! what recent Cause for Fear!
Strange bloody Men before my Eyes appear;
With brutal Rage they through the Chamber broke,
And in their Hands their sanguine Sabres smoke.
Now what Anxiety my Bosom feels!
Around my Heart the lazy Stream congeals:
Ah me!—I faint!—Oblivion, once again,
Relieves my Soul from its accustom'd Pain.
The sharp Misfortunes I was destin'd to!
What horrid Space, what Oceans must divide
Thy widow'd Arms from thy still virgin Bride?
Perhaps my Griefs shall ne'er approach your Ear,
Nor this work'd Tissue in your Sight appear;
But I am fix'd the brave Attempt to make;
It sooths my Care, it is for Aza's Sake.
How shall my Fingers o'er the Clue prevail,
To tell my Ynca the surprizing Tale?
How shall I paint the Ideas I receiv'd,
And what, when told, can scarcely be believ'd?
'Twas now the Time, when peaceful Slumbers close
The Eyes of Mortals to relieve their Woes;
385
The Dungeon echoed with a fearful Sound;
Two savage Spaniards, thunder-bearing Men,
Perforce compel me from my gloomy Den:
In this Distress, my female Fears prevail;
My Knees bend trembling; and my Senses fail;
Lost in a Swoon, I can no further tell
What, for a Time, thy poor Betroth'd befel.
But when, compell'd by Youth, and Nature's Force,
The sanguine Stream resum'd its wonted Course;
When once Reflection was return'd again,
And quick Sensation realiz'd my Pain;
My rolling Eyes with wild Attention gaze,
Struck with alternate Terror, and Amaze:
What meant the Change, my Soul was yet to learn;
Anxious, I wait the wish'd-for Light's Return;
When I beheld a Room of small Extent,
From whence exhal'd a loath'd, offensive Scent:
The Chamber moves; alas! my Brain turns round;
I'm all convuls'd upon this rolling Ground;
With tottering Haste, I seek my wretched Bed,
Desponding, while my Steps precarious tread:
Perplexing Wonder, certainly design'd,
By some destructive Power, to hurt Mankind.
Now round my Head the dizzy Mists arise,
And dusky Vapours fleet before my Eyes;
Convulsive Throws my tortur'd Breast invade,
And my cold Limbs refuse their wonted Aid;
Large Drops of Sweat bedew my pallid Cheek,
While deep-fetch'd Groans my inward Torments speak.
At last, with Sickness, Grief, and Care opprest,
My Pain subsided, and I sunk to Rest:
Some friendly Power, in Pity to my Smart,
In stiptic Slumber sooth'd my bleeding Heart;
386
“Sinks down to Rest, sometimes, amidst Despair.”
Scarce was I lost in unaccustom'd Ease,
(Ah! fleeting Bliss! short Interval of Peace!)
When a tremendous, and more horrid Sound,
Than that of Yalpa, shook the Mansion round:
Such Shock shall happen, when the Moon is hurl'd,
By angry Fate, to crush the nether World:
Dread Thunders roar, and fire-wing'd Lightnings play;
While Clouds of sulphurous Smoak obscure the Day:
At first, the Tumult threaten'd from afar,
The cool Commencement of the distant War;
But, when more near the deafening Horror drew,
Then to its Height the fierce Contention grew:
After a While it gradually decreas'd;
'Till, at the last, the loud Explosion ceas'd:
When, now, methought, I heard the piteous Cries
Of blasted Spaniards rend the avenging Skies—
For, can these Wretches e'er presume that Heaven
O'erlooks their Crimes; or, hope those Crimes forgiven?
Almighty Justice always strikes, though slow,
Like the high-lifted Arm, the mightier Blow.—
Alas! alas! what recent Cause for Fear!
Strange bloody Men before my Eyes appear;
With brutal Rage they through the Chamber broke,
And in their Hands their sanguine Sabres smoke.
Now what Anxiety my Bosom feels!
Around my Heart the lazy Stream congeals:
Ah me!—I faint!—Oblivion, once again,
Relieves my Soul from its accustom'd Pain.
| The Shamrock | |