Poems | ||
79
VERSES
SPOKEN IN THE CHARACTER OF A PILGRIM, At the Masquerade, held in the Music Room, Fishamble-street, Dublin, in the Winter of 1779.
Pity, ye virgins of this isle,
To whom I kneel, to whom I pray,
Oh Charity! sweet handmaid, smile,
To cheer a Pilgrim on his way.
To whom I kneel, to whom I pray,
Oh Charity! sweet handmaid, smile,
To cheer a Pilgrim on his way.
The peerless nymph who stole my peace,
Is gone, and left her slave behind;
Ah me! that faith should ever cease,
Or vows be changeful as the wind.
Is gone, and left her slave behind;
Ah me! that faith should ever cease,
Or vows be changeful as the wind.
More potent far her power is known,
Than Circe's spell, to waken Grief;
Or Nepthe's charmful, envied zone,
Or Passion's irresistless chief.
Than Circe's spell, to waken Grief;
Or Nepthe's charmful, envied zone,
Or Passion's irresistless chief.
80
Her breath's like sweets from Eden's bow'r,
Her eyes the bright empyreal blue,
Her cheeks Pomona's richest flower,
Her lips the coral wash'd in dew.
Her eyes the bright empyreal blue,
Her cheeks Pomona's richest flower,
Her lips the coral wash'd in dew.
Her mien appals the gazing throng,
Her language ev'ry sense subdues;
Soft are the numbers of her song,
Like beamy Phœbus when he woos.
Her language ev'ry sense subdues;
Soft are the numbers of her song,
Like beamy Phœbus when he woos.
What points of wit may grace my mind,
My memory caught from her discourse;
Thus, iron, to the magnet join'd,
Partakes of its inherent force.
My memory caught from her discourse;
Thus, iron, to the magnet join'd,
Partakes of its inherent force.
To find her haunts, with eager care,
Fatigu'd, I roam'd from clime to clime,
My plaints were echo'd by Despair,
My questions scoff'd by fleeting Time.
Fatigu'd, I roam'd from clime to clime,
My plaints were echo'd by Despair,
My questions scoff'd by fleeting Time.
I've travers'd Judah's barren sand,
At Beauty's altars to adore,
But there the Turk had spoil'd the land,
And Sion's daughters were no more.
At Beauty's altars to adore,
But there the Turk had spoil'd the land,
And Sion's daughters were no more.
In Greece, the bold, imperious mien,
The wanton laugh, the leering eye,
Bade Love's devotion not be seen,
Where Constancy is never nigh.
The wanton laugh, the leering eye,
Bade Love's devotion not be seen,
Where Constancy is never nigh.
81
By radiant Hope, in bondage led,
I pierc'd thro' deep Canadian snows,
As savage man uprais'd his head,
And, trembling, sung of human woes.
I pierc'd thro' deep Canadian snows,
As savage man uprais'd his head,
And, trembling, sung of human woes.
Then the bleak wilderness I saw,
Where Israel's children hung the lyre,
Ere her proud tribes defi'd the law,
Or God in anger dampt their fire.
Where Israel's children hung the lyre,
Ere her proud tribes defi'd the law,
Or God in anger dampt their fire.
On Thules utmost verge I stood,
And, anxious, look'd beyond the land,
Till the vast, fierce, high-foaming flood,
Indignant, dash'd me from the strand.
And, anxious, look'd beyond the land,
Till the vast, fierce, high-foaming flood,
Indignant, dash'd me from the strand.
Alas! tho' here I've sped at last,
My pulse is weak, my feet are worn,
My scrip's consum'd, my transports past,
My being's smote, my honor's shorn!
My pulse is weak, my feet are worn,
My scrip's consum'd, my transports past,
My being's smote, my honor's shorn!
Pity, ye virgins of this isle,
To whom I kneel, to whom I pray,
Oh Charity! sweet handmaid, smile,
To cheer a Pilgrim on his way.
To whom I kneel, to whom I pray,
Oh Charity! sweet handmaid, smile,
To cheer a Pilgrim on his way.
Poems | ||