A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
165
[MISCELLANEOUS PIECES]
170
THE ANNIVERSARY.
TO ARPASIA, ON ENTERING HER TWENTIETH YEAR.
While others, lavish in exalted lays,
Proclaim thy triumphs and record thy praise,
Whence comes it I, the tuneful tribe among,
Alone, withhold the tribute of my song?
Nor, while admiring crowds their offerings bring,
Even on thy birth-day, say one civil thing?
So much applauded, honour'd and endear'd,
Child of my care! has it not strange appear'd?
Proclaim thy triumphs and record thy praise,
Whence comes it I, the tuneful tribe among,
Alone, withhold the tribute of my song?
Nor, while admiring crowds their offerings bring,
Even on thy birth-day, say one civil thing?
So much applauded, honour'd and endear'd,
Child of my care! has it not strange appear'd?
I might, 'tis true, have gardens rang'd and fields,
And cull'd the choicest treasures Flora yields;
The breathing violet and the blushing rose,
With every opening sweet the spring bestows,
Thy lovely bosom might conspire to grace,
Yet faintly match the wonders of thy face.
To trace the lustre of thy speaking eyes,
I might have roam'd, like brother bards, the skies;
And when I thro' the angelic choir had run,
Have tipp'd their beams with radiance from the sun.
With equal ease, propriety and truth,
I might to Hebe's have compar'd thy youth;
And brought each nymph of old and modern times,
Renown'd for charms, to decorate my rhymes;
And if, to image thy enchanting form,
A kindred soul could polish'd marble warm,
The all-perfect Medicean Venus might,
With thy resemblance dazzle human sight:
While gaily round, alluding to the day,
The officious nereïds dance and tritons play,
And in cool grot or amaranthine bowers,
Commit thee to the loves and festive hours.
The soft-ey'd graces with their charge elate,
To deck their smiling queen might ready wait,
And with ambrosial dews imbue the lips,
Where cupid revels and enraptur'd sips.
And cull'd the choicest treasures Flora yields;
The breathing violet and the blushing rose,
With every opening sweet the spring bestows,
Thy lovely bosom might conspire to grace,
Yet faintly match the wonders of thy face.
To trace the lustre of thy speaking eyes,
I might have roam'd, like brother bards, the skies;
And when I thro' the angelic choir had run,
Have tipp'd their beams with radiance from the sun.
With equal ease, propriety and truth,
I might to Hebe's have compar'd thy youth;
171
Renown'd for charms, to decorate my rhymes;
And if, to image thy enchanting form,
A kindred soul could polish'd marble warm,
The all-perfect Medicean Venus might,
With thy resemblance dazzle human sight:
While gaily round, alluding to the day,
The officious nereïds dance and tritons play,
And in cool grot or amaranthine bowers,
Commit thee to the loves and festive hours.
The soft-ey'd graces with their charge elate,
To deck their smiling queen might ready wait,
And with ambrosial dews imbue the lips,
Where cupid revels and enraptur'd sips.
Such the conceits, when beauty is the theme,
On which full oft our fancy-mongers dream;
But, hunting wit, tho' nature they disguise,
Applied to thee, it proves at least they have eyes.
To pen thy praise were but a waste of parts;
All who behold thee feel it in their hearts.
On which full oft our fancy-mongers dream;
But, hunting wit, tho' nature they disguise,
Applied to thee, it proves at least they have eyes.
To pen thy praise were but a waste of parts;
All who behold thee feel it in their hearts.
To me the more important care's assign'd,
To form thy judgment and improve thy mind;
To call the native powers of genius forth,
And on the public ear impress thy worth.
Scorning inferior arts, be thine the scheme
To gain the plaudit of deserv'd esteem,
Whate'er illusive prospects court thy view,
The onward paths of excellence pursue;
Nor too securely loiter in the chace,
A trifle lost the Grecian maid the race;
And, whatsoe'er the colour or pretence,
Let not good nature supersede good sense.
Envy may carp and calumny invade;
No power can conscious rectitude degrade.
To form thy judgment and improve thy mind;
To call the native powers of genius forth,
And on the public ear impress thy worth.
Scorning inferior arts, be thine the scheme
To gain the plaudit of deserv'd esteem,
172
The onward paths of excellence pursue;
Nor too securely loiter in the chace,
A trifle lost the Grecian maid the race;
And, whatsoe'er the colour or pretence,
Let not good nature supersede good sense.
Envy may carp and calumny invade;
No power can conscious rectitude degrade.
The time arrives, how flattering to my hope!
When thy consummate talents shall have scope,
And all the virtues latent in thy breast
Break into day, conspicuous and confess'd.
And, if the page of fate I truly read,
Illum'd with laurel'd gold, it stands decreed,
In future story when thy name shall shine,
Her rosy finger fame shall point to mine,
And, emulous thy merits to display,
Succeeding poets sing the twelfth of May.
When thy consummate talents shall have scope,
And all the virtues latent in thy breast
Break into day, conspicuous and confess'd.
And, if the page of fate I truly read,
Illum'd with laurel'd gold, it stands decreed,
In future story when thy name shall shine,
Her rosy finger fame shall point to mine,
And, emulous thy merits to display,
Succeeding poets sing the twelfth of May.
178
THE REMONSTRANCE. TO THREE YOUNG LADIES, Miss J. P. Trench, Miss Ann Trench, and Miss Nugent,
WHO DECLARED THEMSELVES DYING, FROM THE FATIGUE OF A BALL, AND INSISTED UPON SOME VERSES TO THEIR MEMORY.
MDCCLXXI.
For mercy's sake, ladies!—how can you impose
A task of this nature on me?
'Tis clear past a doubt, and what every one knows,
I hold not the Muses in fee.
A task of this nature on me?
'Tis clear past a doubt, and what every one knows,
I hold not the Muses in fee.
I have courted them sometimes, 'tis true, but in vain,
They ne'er would indulge my request;
They mock'd my addresses, derided my pain,
And turn'd all my prayers to a jest.
They ne'er would indulge my request;
They mock'd my addresses, derided my pain,
And turn'd all my prayers to a jest.
The subject too, truly! supposing you dead
An elegy I must indite!
The town would all swear, I was turn'd in my head;
The town, at least, once would be right.
An elegy I must indite!
The town would all swear, I was turn'd in my head;
The town, at least, once would be right.
179
But grant me dispos'd with your wish to agree,
I deal not in fiction nor art;
How then could I furnish description for three,
Where each is supreme in desert?
I deal not in fiction nor art;
How then could I furnish description for three,
Where each is supreme in desert?
Of goddesses, graces, and many such more
Trite fancies 'twere easy to speak;
And roses, and lilies, and dimples good store,
And Cupid's bedecking each cheek.
Trite fancies 'twere easy to speak;
And roses, and lilies, and dimples good store,
And Cupid's bedecking each cheek.
The sex, tho' I stripp'd, as most sonneteers do,
And all in your persons combin'd,
Tho' I, and some others, might feel it full true,
Yet you would continue still blind.
And all in your persons combin'd,
Tho' I, and some others, might feel it full true,
Yet you would continue still blind.
Admit now sweet Nancy's perfections I sung,
What more could for Fanny be writ?
And, Jenny! thy praises must die on my tongue,
Unless I could borrow thy wit.
What more could for Fanny be writ?
And, Jenny! thy praises must die on my tongue,
Unless I could borrow thy wit.
'Mongst brothers and beauties, affection is rare,
All ages and nations attest;
But concord and friendship, this let me declare,
Here mutually glow in each breast.
All ages and nations attest;
But concord and friendship, this let me declare,
Here mutually glow in each breast.
180
Long blessing and bless'd then, O! may you survive,
Still greater enjoyments to prove;
New pleasures from yours, my fond heart shall derive,
Then take me a fourth in your love.
Still greater enjoyments to prove;
New pleasures from yours, my fond heart shall derive,
Then take me a fourth in your love.
181
INVOCATION;
OR, CLIO SUPPLANTED.
TO MISS NUGENT, THE LATE HONOURABLE MRS. ROCHFORT.
Come, Madam Clio! no resistance,
Come quickly, lend your best assistance;
Since many with no better claim on't
Assume, I find, and vaunt the name on't.
Come, lowly bending down before ye,
As custom wills it, I implore ye;
Come, shed your choicest influences
Profusely o'er my scatter'd senses,
And smile propitious on your poet,
Who feels perfection and would show it:
Poet?—ah! no; that proud addition
Had found no place in my petition;
But, that in rhyme a little scanted,
'Twas an auxiliary wanted;
Then seeing, Clio! help's so needful,
I prithee of my prayers be heedful;
And since, like fancy-mongers noted,
That might by dozens here be quoted,
Staunch pious christians, laurels courting,
Instead of church, your fanes resorting,
Since then, I say, in imitation
Of wits attach'd to invocation,
I pay thee homage in the proem,
Inspire, as thou wert wont, my poem.
Tho' after all their solemn straining,
And sweet inanity of meaning,
With many a pompous nothing blended,
Their cause, I ween, but little mended;
Yet, I'll be judg'd by Dan Apollo,
If you assist I'll beat them hollow.
This, as they list, they may deride as
A sample for the ear of Midas;
We might in turn, to quit their kindness,
Enchafe their spleen and show their blindness;
For, to retort on their heroics,
They'd prove no greater wits than stoics:
My rhymes I deem not tho' so clever,
To live, 'tis a long time, for ever,
Like some, who, for charade or rebus,
Claim their descent from Father Phoebus;
But if that Phoebus ne'er existed,
Meseems they have a little miss'd it.
Then, Clio! 'tis not to be wonder'd
That I expect of years some hundred;
There are my notions who have flouted;
But your good will I never doubted,
And yet your aid I don't much care for;
Now, with your leave, I'll tell you wherefore.
Come quickly, lend your best assistance;
Since many with no better claim on't
Assume, I find, and vaunt the name on't.
Come, lowly bending down before ye,
As custom wills it, I implore ye;
Come, shed your choicest influences
Profusely o'er my scatter'd senses,
And smile propitious on your poet,
Who feels perfection and would show it:
Poet?—ah! no; that proud addition
Had found no place in my petition;
But, that in rhyme a little scanted,
'Twas an auxiliary wanted;
Then seeing, Clio! help's so needful,
I prithee of my prayers be heedful;
And since, like fancy-mongers noted,
That might by dozens here be quoted,
182
Instead of church, your fanes resorting,
Since then, I say, in imitation
Of wits attach'd to invocation,
I pay thee homage in the proem,
Inspire, as thou wert wont, my poem.
Tho' after all their solemn straining,
And sweet inanity of meaning,
With many a pompous nothing blended,
Their cause, I ween, but little mended;
Yet, I'll be judg'd by Dan Apollo,
If you assist I'll beat them hollow.
This, as they list, they may deride as
A sample for the ear of Midas;
We might in turn, to quit their kindness,
Enchafe their spleen and show their blindness;
For, to retort on their heroics,
They'd prove no greater wits than stoics:
My rhymes I deem not tho' so clever,
To live, 'tis a long time, for ever,
Like some, who, for charade or rebus,
Claim their descent from Father Phoebus;
But if that Phoebus ne'er existed,
Meseems they have a little miss'd it.
Then, Clio! 'tis not to be wonder'd
That I expect of years some hundred;
183
But your good will I never doubted,
And yet your aid I don't much care for;
Now, with your leave, I'll tell you wherefore.
It is my pride, some say, my failing,
To cherish candour and plain dealing,
And, prompting generous emulation,
Desert to honour more than station:
Your votaries, Clio! bouncing fellows,
Most mickle strange romances tell us;
Mad blades, whose trade confess'd is fiction,
And forging names to grace their diction;
Yet, after all your influence boasted,
I no where find you e'er were toasted;
Nor e'er did your whole choir inherit
A tythe of Fanny's sterling merit,
And if a muse I needs must fly to,
What fairer name could I apply to?
None other will I, madam Clio!—
But why that pert invidious heigho?
Hope you to match her? range your forces,
Ransack your stores, try all resources,
Allusions, similies and fable,
And vouch the finest things your able;
Convene your goddesses and graces
Renown'd for shapes, extoll'd for faces;
Your Hebe, Juno and Minerva,
With all the Olympical Caterva;
Diana, Venus, Ceres, Flora,
And that Chef-d'Oeuvre clep'd Pandora;
Then look on Fanny, you'll allow her,
As none but must, superior power;
In every movement, limb and feature,
A blameless, unaffected creature,
With every mental gift to charm us,
And not a single thought to harm us.
An angel! no; though not a jot less,
Pure flesh and blood, refin'd and spotless!
To cherish candour and plain dealing,
And, prompting generous emulation,
Desert to honour more than station:
Your votaries, Clio! bouncing fellows,
Most mickle strange romances tell us;
Mad blades, whose trade confess'd is fiction,
And forging names to grace their diction;
Yet, after all your influence boasted,
I no where find you e'er were toasted;
Nor e'er did your whole choir inherit
A tythe of Fanny's sterling merit,
And if a muse I needs must fly to,
What fairer name could I apply to?
None other will I, madam Clio!—
But why that pert invidious heigho?
Hope you to match her? range your forces,
Ransack your stores, try all resources,
Allusions, similies and fable,
And vouch the finest things your able;
Convene your goddesses and graces
Renown'd for shapes, extoll'd for faces;
184
With all the Olympical Caterva;
Diana, Venus, Ceres, Flora,
And that Chef-d'Oeuvre clep'd Pandora;
Then look on Fanny, you'll allow her,
As none but must, superior power;
In every movement, limb and feature,
A blameless, unaffected creature,
With every mental gift to charm us,
And not a single thought to harm us.
An angel! no; though not a jot less,
Pure flesh and blood, refin'd and spotless!
Roses and lilies all adorning,
Each nymph be sure outshines the morning!
And not a scribbler but's a dreaming
Of deaths, from fair one's optics streaming!
All idle rants of purblind fancy,
Trump'd up when nothing else they can say;
But those whom nature moves and justice,
In phrase direct and plain their trust is.
Thus, truth to speak, as bound in duty,
Fanny's the quintessence of beauty.
Each nymph be sure outshines the morning!
And not a scribbler but's a dreaming
Of deaths, from fair one's optics streaming!
All idle rants of purblind fancy,
Trump'd up when nothing else they can say;
But those whom nature moves and justice,
In phrase direct and plain their trust is.
Thus, truth to speak, as bound in duty,
Fanny's the quintessence of beauty.
185
BELVIDERE.
WRITTEN IN THE ABSENCE OF SOME LADIES, ON A PARTY THERE,
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER VTH, MDCCLXXII.
Here every view, hill, vale and grove,
With various wonders grac'd,
The noble owner's judgment prove,
His genius, and his taste.
With various wonders grac'd,
The noble owner's judgment prove,
His genius, and his taste.
Ierne! can thy favour'd race,
Such scenes as these survey,
Yet quit, abandon, scorn, disgrace,
And on thy ruin prey?
Such scenes as these survey,
Yet quit, abandon, scorn, disgrace,
And on thy ruin prey?
Fell paricides! you ought to know,
Tho' deaf to every tie,
'Tis yours to heal your country's woe,
And all defects supply.
Tho' deaf to every tie,
'Tis yours to heal your country's woe,
And all defects supply.
Bright precedents!—first, sweet retreat!
That airy crescent stands,
And shielding off the noontide heat,
The region round commands.
That airy crescent stands,
And shielding off the noontide heat,
The region round commands.
186
Thence, deck'd in nature's birth-day green,
Wide stretch the slopy dales;
High o'er the side-long copse between,
The stately lodge prevails.
Wide stretch the slopy dales;
High o'er the side-long copse between,
The stately lodge prevails.
There blithesome swains in russet weed,
Attend their fleecy care,
And all we of Arcadia read,
And Tempè, centers there.
Attend their fleecy care,
And all we of Arcadia read,
And Tempè, centers there.
The lake beyond, capacious lies,
In prospect unconfin'd,
And emblematic to our eyes
Presents his lordship's mind.
In prospect unconfin'd,
And emblematic to our eyes
Presents his lordship's mind.
That pillar'd dome, in rustic style
And Sylvan pomp profuse,
How rich to sight! a cavern'd pile,
For ornament and use.
And Sylvan pomp profuse,
How rich to sight! a cavern'd pile,
For ornament and use.
In the brown umbrage of the wood
If lonely you retire,
There unexpected beauties crowd,
And force you to admire.
If lonely you retire,
There unexpected beauties crowd,
And force you to admire.
187
Sequester'd arbours, structures wild,
Root seats and ivy'd cells,
Where poetry, rapt fancy's child,
And contemplation dwells.
Root seats and ivy'd cells,
Where poetry, rapt fancy's child,
And contemplation dwells.
In vain the muse exerts her art
To paint each charming scene;
Grand, copious, just, in every part,
Even Fisher strives in vain.
To paint each charming scene;
Grand, copious, just, in every part,
Even Fisher strives in vain.
Stretch'd on the margin of the brook
That babbles idly by,
With pipe, and scrip, and dog, and crook,
How bless'd might Colin lie!
That babbles idly by,
With pipe, and scrip, and dog, and crook,
How bless'd might Colin lie!
Or on the borders of the lake,
With softly pensive tread,
His Phoebe arm in arm might take,
And woo the blushing maid.
With softly pensive tread,
His Phoebe arm in arm might take,
And woo the blushing maid.
Haply in this o'erhanging bow'r
Deceive the live long day;
Oft steal a kiss, her looks devour,
And breathe his soul away.—
Deceive the live long day;
Oft steal a kiss, her looks devour,
And breathe his soul away.—
188
But great and wondrous, Belvidere!
Tho' all thy beauties grant;
Tho' art and nature triumph here;
Yet still we something want.
Tho' all thy beauties grant;
Tho' art and nature triumph here;
Yet still we something want.
We something want!—what can you mean
Where such perfection's shown?
'Tis plain; no female gilds the scene;
Man should not be alone.
Where such perfection's shown?
'Tis plain; no female gilds the scene;
Man should not be alone.
In Paradise, we thus conceive,
Unbless'd was Adam found,
'Till, N---t like, accomplish'd Eve
His social ardour crown'd.
Unbless'd was Adam found,
'Till, N---t like, accomplish'd Eve
His social ardour crown'd.
IMPROMPTU.
WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF A TRENCHER, IN THE COTTAGE AT THE CROOKED WOOD,
AUGUST MDCCLXXIII.
Let wealth regale itself on costly plate,
Cares will intrude and happiness prevent;
But peasants, who off humble trenchers eat,
With rosy health enjoy supreme content.
189
STANZAS, TO MISS LATOUCHE, THE LATE COUNTESS OF LANESBOROUGH, WITH A VOLUME OF POEMS,
SELECTED FROM OUR BEST WRITERS, BY THE AUTHOR, HER PRECEPTOR ON HER BIRTH-DAY, TUESDAY, JANUARY XVIITH, MDCCLXXV.
Hail! dear Eliza!—hail! the auspicious day,
Sacred to innocence and smiling mirth;—
Strike up the instruments, all hearts be gay,
And with due honours grace Eliza's Birth.
While all around in just applause combine,
Can I, who best should know thee, niggard mine?
Sacred to innocence and smiling mirth;—
Strike up the instruments, all hearts be gay,
And with due honours grace Eliza's Birth.
While all around in just applause combine,
Can I, who best should know thee, niggard mine?
That matchless elegance and winning grace,
Which mark thy movements thro' the mazy dance;
That perfect symmetry of mien and face,
Are merely foils thy merits to enhance:
In the rich temple of thy ample mind
Are all the virtues with good sense inshrin'd.
Which mark thy movements thro' the mazy dance;
That perfect symmetry of mien and face,
Are merely foils thy merits to enhance:
In the rich temple of thy ample mind
Are all the virtues with good sense inshrin'd.
190
Even on the festal hour, lo! I encroach;
Sure proof how well the truth I may attest;
For, truth to thee at all times shall approach,
Not as a stranger, but a welcome guest;
So by hereditary worth inspir'd,
In affluence blest, unenvied and admir'd.
Sure proof how well the truth I may attest;
For, truth to thee at all times shall approach,
Not as a stranger, but a welcome guest;
So by hereditary worth inspir'd,
In affluence blest, unenvied and admir'd.
Could words the dictates of the soul impart,
On such a theme the muse might 'raptur'd dwell;
But, like thyself, Eliza! void of art,
These simple lines my warm affection tell;
While, thy felicity my aim and end,
To thee this votive garland they commend.
On such a theme the muse might 'raptur'd dwell;
But, like thyself, Eliza! void of art,
These simple lines my warm affection tell;
While, thy felicity my aim and end,
To thee this votive garland they commend.
To raise the genius poets wrote of old,
To mend the heart, and generous views inspire:
Their happiest portraits here display'd behold,
And let thy soul bright emulation fire.
One virtuous action, one well-natur'd deed,
Does all address in polish'd arts exceed.
To mend the heart, and generous views inspire:
Their happiest portraits here display'd behold,
And let thy soul bright emulation fire.
One virtuous action, one well-natur'd deed,
Does all address in polish'd arts exceed.
191
ADVICE TO A YOUNG LADY,
ON THE DANGER OF INDISCRIMINATE ACQUAINTANCE.
To nature much, yet art declares,
As much to her thou ow'st,
And pointing out thy air and mien,
By that confirms her boast.
As much to her thou ow'st,
And pointing out thy air and mien,
By that confirms her boast.
She says to fashion and improve
She largely did impart,
And modesty and candour join
To regulate thy heart.
She largely did impart,
And modesty and candour join
To regulate thy heart.
Dear favourite of contending powers!
Thus all thy charms assert,
And wit and judgment eager rise,
To publish thy desert.
Thus all thy charms assert,
And wit and judgment eager rise,
To publish thy desert.
Then, loveliest blossom of the spring!
Should folly dare aspire,
Let not the fluttering insect nip
That worth which all admire.
Should folly dare aspire,
Let not the fluttering insect nip
That worth which all admire.
192
Thy heart, still conscious of itself,
Suspects no latent snare;
But where the sun intensely shines,
The lurking adder's there.
Suspects no latent snare;
But where the sun intensely shines,
The lurking adder's there.
And envy, like the canker worm,
The fairest fruit assails;
Is still assiduous to destroy,
And oft, too oft, prevails.
The fairest fruit assails;
Is still assiduous to destroy,
And oft, too oft, prevails.
Even things most rare, familiar made,
No longer are explor'd,
Which treasur'd right might lustre gain;
Might be like thee ador'd.
No longer are explor'd,
Which treasur'd right might lustre gain;
Might be like thee ador'd.
Thy soul, where all perfections meet,
All pure sensations warm,
Can the insipid dangler please?
His trite suggestions charm?
All pure sensations warm,
Can the insipid dangler please?
His trite suggestions charm?
Admitting such, howe'er in sport,
All will not so explain,
And sense and honour 'twill deter,
That ne'er give virtue pain.
All will not so explain,
And sense and honour 'twill deter,
That ne'er give virtue pain.
193
The flimsy tribe may suit the scope
Of slight unfinish'd girls;
In thee 'twere waste of time at best
To strew before them pearls.
Of slight unfinish'd girls;
In thee 'twere waste of time at best
To strew before them pearls.
If praise delight, 'tis merit's due,
And none can bar thy claim;
But those, who most deserve themselves,
Contribute most to fame.
And none can bar thy claim;
But those, who most deserve themselves,
Contribute most to fame.
Mark you those mantling shrubs, how fair!
What sweets those flowers disclose!
Comes the bleak east, parch'd is the tree,
And sickening droops the rose.
What sweets those flowers disclose!
Comes the bleak east, parch'd is the tree,
And sickening droops the rose.
The mantling shrub, the opening flower,
Thy sweetness fall beneath;
More noxious than the eastern blast
The officious coxcomb's breath.
Thy sweetness fall beneath;
More noxious than the eastern blast
The officious coxcomb's breath.
It ranges far, it pierces deep,
It spreads contagion round,
And chief the baleful influence aims,
Where charms like thine abound.
It spreads contagion round,
And chief the baleful influence aims,
Where charms like thine abound.
194
Such affable engaging ease,
Such artless innocence,
In situation so expos'd,
Need such consummate sense.
Such artless innocence,
In situation so expos'd,
Need such consummate sense.
The first approach 'twere best to guard;
If there repuls'd they fail,
No wrong can vanity presume,
Perchance would blush to rail.
If there repuls'd they fail,
No wrong can vanity presume,
Perchance would blush to rail.
Thus the weak shaft at random sped
Discretion may despise;—
Oh! may experience dearly bought,
Ne'er dim those beauteous eyes.
Discretion may despise;—
Oh! may experience dearly bought,
Ne'er dim those beauteous eyes.
EPIGRAM.
Jack talks of honour, truth, and heart
And kindness in event;
Show it, says Time—Jack skulks apart—
O! damn your sentiment.
And kindness in event;
Show it, says Time—Jack skulks apart—
O! damn your sentiment.
195
THE BALLOON.
TO RICHARD CROSBIE, ESQ. ON HIS ATTEMPTING A SECOND AERIAL EXCURSION,
TUESDAY MAY THE XIITH, MDCCLXXXV.
Tho' envy, Crosbie! vilify thy name,
And strive to blast the harvest of thy fame,
'Tis virtue's common lot; nor thou repine,
The tribute due to great attempts is thine.
Deep tho' the barbed shaft of rancour pierce,
The sentence past, time only can reverse;
To time, the impartial arbiter, submit,
And let dark calumny her venom spit.
You, of Hibernia's sons, none can deny,
A Dedalus, first launch'd into the sky,
And with the flame of patriot glory fir'd,
To the third region of the air aspir'd;
Untutor'd and alone pursu'd your slight
Thro' untried space impervious to the sight.
So in the fiery car the prophet caught,
Majestic rising pierc'd the azure vault;
Towards earth from high his awful presence bow'd,
Look'd up, and vanish'd thro' the impending cloud.
Eyes! take your last—thy soul's soft partner cried,
Her trembling infants clinging to her side,
As down her woe-wan cheeks the silent torrents glide.
What must the husband, what the father prove,
Leaving the weeping pledges of his love!
And, in his fate involv'd, where's the relief
To sooth the orphans' cries, the widow's grief?
Nature knock'd at his heart, but knock'd in vain;
His noble daring nothing can restrain;
Thro' hope's prospective, scenes remote he view'd,
Nor dreamt how near him lurk'd ingratitude.
Generous as brave the Irish are renown'd,
In that presumption all his cares are drown'd,
And what his soul superior had conceiv'd,
He plann'd, constructed, gloriously atchiev'd;
His country's fame among the nations rais'd,
Prov'd his desert, and liberally was—prais'd.
But in the zenith of his triumph crost,
Chang'd is the scene, his occupation lost:
On frail foundations all his castles rear'd,
In one capricious moment disappear'd!—
The multitudes that gaz'd with straining eyes,
The tongues that rent with pealing shouts the skies,
The knees that suppliant for thy safety bent,
The astonish'd crowds that witness'd thy descent,
The hearts that even with adoration glow'd,
The hands that flowers beneath thy footsteps strew'd,
Crosbie! more sickle than the inconstant wind,
Mere weather-cocks to every gust you find;
And tho' exalted to the lunar sphere,
Foul-mouth'd detraction would pursue thee there;
The hard-earn'd laurel from thy temples wrest,
And plant with thorns thy unoffending breast.
And strive to blast the harvest of thy fame,
'Tis virtue's common lot; nor thou repine,
The tribute due to great attempts is thine.
Deep tho' the barbed shaft of rancour pierce,
The sentence past, time only can reverse;
To time, the impartial arbiter, submit,
And let dark calumny her venom spit.
You, of Hibernia's sons, none can deny,
A Dedalus, first launch'd into the sky,
And with the flame of patriot glory fir'd,
To the third region of the air aspir'd;
Untutor'd and alone pursu'd your slight
Thro' untried space impervious to the sight.
So in the fiery car the prophet caught,
Majestic rising pierc'd the azure vault;
Towards earth from high his awful presence bow'd,
Look'd up, and vanish'd thro' the impending cloud.
196
Her trembling infants clinging to her side,
As down her woe-wan cheeks the silent torrents glide.
What must the husband, what the father prove,
Leaving the weeping pledges of his love!
And, in his fate involv'd, where's the relief
To sooth the orphans' cries, the widow's grief?
Nature knock'd at his heart, but knock'd in vain;
His noble daring nothing can restrain;
Thro' hope's prospective, scenes remote he view'd,
Nor dreamt how near him lurk'd ingratitude.
Generous as brave the Irish are renown'd,
In that presumption all his cares are drown'd,
And what his soul superior had conceiv'd,
He plann'd, constructed, gloriously atchiev'd;
His country's fame among the nations rais'd,
Prov'd his desert, and liberally was—prais'd.
But in the zenith of his triumph crost,
Chang'd is the scene, his occupation lost:
On frail foundations all his castles rear'd,
In one capricious moment disappear'd!—
The multitudes that gaz'd with straining eyes,
The tongues that rent with pealing shouts the skies,
The knees that suppliant for thy safety bent,
The astonish'd crowds that witness'd thy descent,
197
The hands that flowers beneath thy footsteps strew'd,
Crosbie! more sickle than the inconstant wind,
Mere weather-cocks to every gust you find;
And tho' exalted to the lunar sphere,
Foul-mouth'd detraction would pursue thee there;
The hard-earn'd laurel from thy temples wrest,
And plant with thorns thy unoffending breast.
No wonder babblers swell the daily lie,
When better judgments follow in the cry;
Injurious clamours raise on vague report,
And with the miseries of nature sport.
Lives there from human casualties exempt?
His crime imputed, What? His last attempt—
He fail'd—yet firmly to his purpose stood,
And all perform'd that art and nature could;
But still he fail'd—and nothing can atone
For disappointments—tho' the worst his own;
His fame, his fortunes, what had'st thou? at stake;
Blush, censure! blush, and retribution make.
When better judgments follow in the cry;
Injurious clamours raise on vague report,
And with the miseries of nature sport.
Lives there from human casualties exempt?
His crime imputed, What? His last attempt—
He fail'd—yet firmly to his purpose stood,
And all perform'd that art and nature could;
But still he fail'd—and nothing can atone
For disappointments—tho' the worst his own;
His fame, his fortunes, what had'st thou? at stake;
Blush, censure! blush, and retribution make.
Columbus thus his daring sails unfurl'd,
Stemm'd seas unknown and gain'd another world;
But found at last, to recompence his pains,
His throne a dungeon, and his trophies chains.
Stemm'd seas unknown and gain'd another world;
But found at last, to recompence his pains,
His throne a dungeon, and his trophies chains.
From wisdom merit consolation draws,
Not from the breath of popular applause.
Not from the breath of popular applause.
198
THE EGG,
A PICTURE OF THE TIMES, BY WAY OF APOLOGUE.
MAY XXIST, MDCCLXXXV.
With flimsy petulance and captious pride,
Nearly, I ween, to ignorance allied,
How cavalierly some folks will decide!
And with a specious temporizing spirit,
On fortune lavish what they strip from merit.
Patterns of taste, and prodigies of learning,
On every subject equally discerning,
They talk at large about it and about it,
Clear as the light; 'twere heresy to doubt it;
And as the ignis fatuus, fashion, burns,
Are this and that, and every thing by turns.
But as extremes are seldom lasting found,
One folly's quickly in another drown'd;
And what this minute is so flush and current,
The next supplanted proves to all abhorrent.
Nearly, I ween, to ignorance allied,
How cavalierly some folks will decide!
And with a specious temporizing spirit,
On fortune lavish what they strip from merit.
Patterns of taste, and prodigies of learning,
On every subject equally discerning,
They talk at large about it and about it,
Clear as the light; 'twere heresy to doubt it;
And as the ignis fatuus, fashion, burns,
Are this and that, and every thing by turns.
But as extremes are seldom lasting found,
One folly's quickly in another drown'd;
And what this minute is so flush and current,
The next supplanted proves to all abhorrent.
The topic now that every tongue engages,
The foil of past and theme of future ages,
Art's proudest boast, and crown of speculation,
Is that phenomenon clep'd Aërostation.
Each feeble amateur, believe his tale,
Can ride the welkin and elude the gale;
And like the finny tribes that range the ocean,
Direct or retrogade, impel his motion.
But why so long the experiment delay?
Perhaps, by compact, Crosbie show'd the way.
The enterprize procured him many a shout,
But soon the storm of favour veer'd about;
He thought 'twould last, oh! simple and absurd!
Even in the breath of praise he blame incurr'd.
Would it not make a very stoic fret,
The world should benefits so soon forget?—
Let them snarl on, or they with envy burst;
Tho' hardly treated, thou art not the first.
Scarcely an hour without example passes,
Those who rely on public fame are asses;
Fate unprovok'd our dearest aims may frustrate,
A case in point the axiom may illustrate.
The foil of past and theme of future ages,
Art's proudest boast, and crown of speculation,
Is that phenomenon clep'd Aërostation.
199
Can ride the welkin and elude the gale;
And like the finny tribes that range the ocean,
Direct or retrogade, impel his motion.
But why so long the experiment delay?
Perhaps, by compact, Crosbie show'd the way.
The enterprize procured him many a shout,
But soon the storm of favour veer'd about;
He thought 'twould last, oh! simple and absurd!
Even in the breath of praise he blame incurr'd.
Would it not make a very stoic fret,
The world should benefits so soon forget?—
Let them snarl on, or they with envy burst;
Tho' hardly treated, thou art not the first.
Scarcely an hour without example passes,
Those who rely on public fame are asses;
Fate unprovok'd our dearest aims may frustrate,
A case in point the axiom may illustrate.
Some centuries ago, a genius rose,
His name on record every school-boy knows,
A navigator from his cradle bred,
Who took a strange vagary in his head
To search for worlds, and of his skill persuaded,
With much remonstrance, Spain his project aided.
The slights, obstructions, vain delays surmounted,
Need not, as things are managed, be recounted.
Consign'd to heaven, the destin'd bark he enter'd,
And shap'd a course none e'er before adventur'd.
The Celtic shores receding far behind,
With swelling sails he scuds before the wind;
His stout-ribb'd keels untravers'd billows plow,
Hope at the helm, and courage at the bow;
The voyage long, and great was his distress,
But perseverance crown'd him with success.
A world obtain'd, now trim in glory ride
His argosies safe on their native tide.
Fame, almost breathless, flew with the report,
And soon in person he arrives at court;
Was graciously receiv'd—the people stare!
To see plain dealing so respected there.
He show'd his charts, describ'd the courses run,
The realms discover'd, and the trophies won;
The battles, sieges, hair-breadth scapes narrated;
But little in his own behalf dilated;
And to repay a tyrant's scanty aid,
Crowns at his feet, and mighty empires laid;
Nor was the homage scorn'd; for at that time
Princes were sometimes just, and worth no crime.
But genuine worth, conspicuous near a crown,
Tho' rarely seen, is quickly jostled down.
Had he been read in men and manners more,
He might have kept some snug douceurs in store.
Thro' all degrees, in every age and nation,
Smiles dwell on hope, and friends on expectation;
But signal services themselves defeat,
And prove, tho' good, the agent indiscreet.
In triple ratio as the debt encreases,
Expectance grows and obligation ceases;
Assert your claims, 'tis plain to every dunce,
That damns your fame and cancels them at once:
And not unfrequently among the great,
The path of honour is the road to hate;
This he experienced, but was wise too late.
His name on record every school-boy knows,
A navigator from his cradle bred,
Who took a strange vagary in his head
To search for worlds, and of his skill persuaded,
With much remonstrance, Spain his project aided.
The slights, obstructions, vain delays surmounted,
Need not, as things are managed, be recounted.
200
And shap'd a course none e'er before adventur'd.
The Celtic shores receding far behind,
With swelling sails he scuds before the wind;
His stout-ribb'd keels untravers'd billows plow,
Hope at the helm, and courage at the bow;
The voyage long, and great was his distress,
But perseverance crown'd him with success.
A world obtain'd, now trim in glory ride
His argosies safe on their native tide.
Fame, almost breathless, flew with the report,
And soon in person he arrives at court;
Was graciously receiv'd—the people stare!
To see plain dealing so respected there.
He show'd his charts, describ'd the courses run,
The realms discover'd, and the trophies won;
The battles, sieges, hair-breadth scapes narrated;
But little in his own behalf dilated;
And to repay a tyrant's scanty aid,
Crowns at his feet, and mighty empires laid;
Nor was the homage scorn'd; for at that time
Princes were sometimes just, and worth no crime.
But genuine worth, conspicuous near a crown,
Tho' rarely seen, is quickly jostled down.
Had he been read in men and manners more,
He might have kept some snug douceurs in store.
201
Smiles dwell on hope, and friends on expectation;
But signal services themselves defeat,
And prove, tho' good, the agent indiscreet.
In triple ratio as the debt encreases,
Expectance grows and obligation ceases;
Assert your claims, 'tis plain to every dunce,
That damns your fame and cancels them at once:
And not unfrequently among the great,
The path of honour is the road to hate;
This he experienced, but was wise too late.
'Twas now the work of enmity began,
And for his merit all detest the man;
Some thought he might speak true, and others doubted;
Some gave the lie direct, and numbers flouted;
Some construed it a personal affront,
And swore, if not prevented, they had don't;
The thing was plain; they knew it to a peg—
On this the man, prepar'd, produc'd an egg;
He had of envy and detraction heard,
And opportunely stood upon his guard.
‘My lords! great latitude of self-defence
‘Appears not in the log-book of my sense;
‘How should an uncouth tar, bred up in storms,
‘Frame his rude speech by your scholastic forms?
‘Exposed to shoals, from which no craft's exempt,
‘I soon should founder in the vain attempt;
‘Suppose then, serious business we suspend,
‘And set the egg, a far-fetch'd game, on end.’
At his request each took it into hand,
But not a Don of them could make it stand;
Oft and again alternately they toil'd,
Tried every way, and every way were foil'd;
Then in a peevish, supercilious tone
Declare unanimous, 'twas not to be done:—
He smil'd, and taking it, the end he crack'd,
And so to their confusion prov'd the fact.
And for his merit all detest the man;
Some thought he might speak true, and others doubted;
Some gave the lie direct, and numbers flouted;
Some construed it a personal affront,
And swore, if not prevented, they had don't;
The thing was plain; they knew it to a peg—
On this the man, prepar'd, produc'd an egg;
He had of envy and detraction heard,
And opportunely stood upon his guard.
‘My lords! great latitude of self-defence
‘Appears not in the log-book of my sense;
‘How should an uncouth tar, bred up in storms,
‘Frame his rude speech by your scholastic forms?
202
‘I soon should founder in the vain attempt;
‘Suppose then, serious business we suspend,
‘And set the egg, a far-fetch'd game, on end.’
At his request each took it into hand,
But not a Don of them could make it stand;
Oft and again alternately they toil'd,
Tried every way, and every way were foil'd;
Then in a peevish, supercilious tone
Declare unanimous, 'twas not to be done:—
He smil'd, and taking it, the end he crack'd,
And so to their confusion prov'd the fact.
Shrewd was the bait, and credit thus maintain'd;
But secret malice is not so restrain'd:
His destiny to work his fall conspires,
And for his foes accomplish'd their desires.
A rival started in the great design,
Of same ambitious, born a Florentine;
The way prepar'd, with happier omens fraught,
He stemm'd the flood, and proud advantage caught.
The king in honour's seat the minion plac'd,
And sovereign beauty with her favour grac'd;
His recent deeds obscur'd the other's fame,
And one keen hit immortaliz'd his name.
But hard indeed the first adventurer's lot,
Rack'd with the wounds of man remembering not.
But secret malice is not so restrain'd:
His destiny to work his fall conspires,
And for his foes accomplish'd their desires.
A rival started in the great design,
Of same ambitious, born a Florentine;
The way prepar'd, with happier omens fraught,
He stemm'd the flood, and proud advantage caught.
The king in honour's seat the minion plac'd,
And sovereign beauty with her favour grac'd;
His recent deeds obscur'd the other's fame,
And one keen hit immortaliz'd his name.
But hard indeed the first adventurer's lot,
Rack'd with the wounds of man remembering not.
203
Ye connoiseurs! who boast mechanic skill,
Artists! or amateurs! or what you will!
Who furnish fuel just to feed contention,
And, lacking genius, thrive by circumvention;
You! who, all talents but your own decrying,
Are such adepts, in theory, at flying!
No doubt, if fortune favour, a balloon
Constructed properly might scale the moon;
The journey certes would enhance your glory,
Maugre friend Wilkins who went there before ye:
Yet, in the name of justice, let me beg,
Since you've been told the secret of the egg,
With modesty your high pretensions veil,
And, ere you rashly judge, apply the tale;
To merit ever give the credit due,
And honour truth, lest truth dishonour you.
Artists! or amateurs! or what you will!
Who furnish fuel just to feed contention,
And, lacking genius, thrive by circumvention;
You! who, all talents but your own decrying,
Are such adepts, in theory, at flying!
No doubt, if fortune favour, a balloon
Constructed properly might scale the moon;
The journey certes would enhance your glory,
Maugre friend Wilkins who went there before ye:
Yet, in the name of justice, let me beg,
Since you've been told the secret of the egg,
With modesty your high pretensions veil,
And, ere you rashly judge, apply the tale;
To merit ever give the credit due,
And honour truth, lest truth dishonour you.
EPIGRAM.
Dick! hold thy vain protesting tongue!I'm not so raw a gull—
'Tis but the flourish of a drum,
Great cry and little wool.
204
THE NEW-FERRY
ADDRESSED TO THE MAYOR OF LIVERPOOL,
SUNDAY, JULY XXIXTH, MDCCLXXXVII.
In early youth o'er Mersey's tide
By wayward fortune trick'd,
While sleep my weary eyelids clos'd,
I got my pockets pick'd.
By wayward fortune trick'd,
While sleep my weary eyelids clos'd,
I got my pockets pick'd.
Twice fifteen years elaps'd, again
The skippers mock'd my care;
For tho' I kept a good look-out,
They robb'd me in the fare.
The skippers mock'd my care;
For tho' I kept a good look-out,
They robb'd me in the fare.
The ferry much improv'd I found,
The port, the docks, the streets;
But, O! curst thirst of lucre! still
Disgrac'd with rogues and cheats.
The port, the docks, the streets;
But, O! curst thirst of lucre! still
Disgrac'd with rogues and cheats.
Yet partial to this goodly town,
It flatters native pride,
That though I suffer'd and was vex'd,
'Twas from the farther side.
It flatters native pride,
That though I suffer'd and was vex'd,
'Twas from the farther side.
205
Nor mean I all should wear the cap
Full well befitting one,
By fellow swabbers Henry hight,
An imp of Chatterton.
Full well befitting one,
By fellow swabbers Henry hight,
An imp of Chatterton.
Hard is his visage, hard his heart,
Uncouth his speech and chuff;
The squalid waterman of Styx
Had scarce a mien so gruff.
Uncouth his speech and chuff;
The squalid waterman of Styx
Had scarce a mien so gruff.
Did he, the souls to ferry o'er,
For Charon man the helm,
Not one, tho' of Elysium sure,
Would visit Pluto's realm.—
For Charon man the helm,
Not one, tho' of Elysium sure,
Would visit Pluto's realm.—
Tho' born in storms, to objects loath'd,
And storms in life inur'd,
Even at his aspect I recoil'd,
And scarce his sight endur'd.—
And storms in life inur'd,
Even at his aspect I recoil'd,
And scarce his sight endur'd.—
I tread the ground, where, blithe and free
In thoughtless years I stray'd,
And trace the haunts, to memory dear,
Where oft my childhood play'd.
In thoughtless years I stray'd,
And trace the haunts, to memory dear,
Where oft my childhood play'd.
206
Around the place fond, anxious looks
At every turn I threw,
In hopes, nor vain my hopes at last,
To meet some face I knew.
At every turn I threw,
In hopes, nor vain my hopes at last,
To meet some face I knew.
I stop at each remembered spot,
And on the prospect dwell;
Then of some boyish incident
My sweet companions tell.
And on the prospect dwell;
Then of some boyish incident
My sweet companions tell.
Here, the prompt champion of my friend,
I check'd his saucy foes;
And here a hardy conquest gain'd,
And here a bloody nose.
I check'd his saucy foes;
And here a hardy conquest gain'd,
And here a bloody nose.
Here Leadbetter kept school—here Hughes,
By death long since remov'd;
A tear, affection's tribute, shows
Their pains not thankless prov'd.
By death long since remov'd;
A tear, affection's tribute, shows
Their pains not thankless prov'd.
As recollection livelier grew,
From place to place I rang'd;
See palaces where oxen grazed,
And huts to churches chang'd.
From place to place I rang'd;
See palaces where oxen grazed,
And huts to churches chang'd.
207
St. Peter's, George's, Nicholas' too,
The seaman's ancient trust;
Each object with delight I view;
Yet still intrudes disgust.
The seaman's ancient trust;
Each object with delight I view;
Yet still intrudes disgust.
Why should a foul, imposing elf
My soul's serene o'er-cast?
Keep clear your wharfs, ye sons of trade!
For first impressions last.
My soul's serene o'er-cast?
Keep clear your wharfs, ye sons of trade!
For first impressions last.
'Tis meet the labourer to reward,
And 'tis as strictly true,
Integrity's the safest plan,
And wisest to pursue.
And 'tis as strictly true,
Integrity's the safest plan,
And wisest to pursue.
Frenchman or Dutch, or friend or foe,
By name whatever call'd,
He'll scarce the mooring recommend,
Who has his hawser gall'd.
By name whatever call'd,
He'll scarce the mooring recommend,
Who has his hawser gall'd.
To see this town, their father's boast,
Oft would my children crave,
And, lo! the poor young travellers greet
A rude designing knave.
Oft would my children crave,
And, lo! the poor young travellers greet
A rude designing knave.
208
Weeds are produc'd in every soil;
But that's a lame excuse,
And justly censure they incur
Who tolerate abuse.
But that's a lame excuse,
And justly censure they incur
Who tolerate abuse.
Are there no laws, no magistrates,
Extortion to correct,
That strangers who your wealth admire,
Your justice may respect?
Extortion to correct,
That strangers who your wealth admire,
Your justice may respect?
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |