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Poems

By Anthony Pasquin [i.e. John Williams]. Second Edition
  
  

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MERIT AND ENVY; A TALE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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138

MERIT AND ENVY; A TALE.

Written at Brighthelmstone, in August, 1787.

(Inscribed to Mrs. Fitzherbert.)
When Merit issued from the womb,
To wander o'er the Earth;
Apollo rais'd the infant maid,
And Beauty bless'd her birth.
Each kindred Virtue fed the nymph,
For gen'ral good design'd;
And ev'ry Science beam'd a ray,
To light her callow mind.
Minerva, daughter of the skies,
Assum'd the youngling's care;
While little Loves with transport ran,
To braid her auburn hair.

139

Serene Philosophy essay'd
Her judgment to adorn;
As ev'ry human weakness fled,
Like mists before the morn.
Her fancy gather'd all he taught,
And recompens'd the toil;
'Twas clear as Arethusa's stream,
And rich as Eden's soil.
To shape her mien, the queen of Jove
Deputed ev'ry grace;
And all the blandishments of art
Illum'd her virgin face.
Warm'd by the bright Pierian maids,
She wove the lyric song;
With ardour struck th' harmonious lyre,
And led mankind along.
Soft as the breeze of genial May,
Which warms the pregnant ground;
She caroll'd loud the dulcet lay,
As flocks stood list'ning round.
Now Pleasure's blithesome roseate train
Uprais'd her youthful throne,
And Peace the lovely spinster hail'd;
For Peace was then her own.

140

But Envy, like a hideous hag,
Annoy'd her calm abode;
If Merit sought the bowers of Bliss,
That miscreant cross'd her road.
Those fleeting Hours, which Love decreed
Should ev'ry transport bring;
The recreant, baneful beldam seiz'd,
And poison'd on the wing.
Wedded to Hate, and damn'd in thought,
She ras'd the page of Fame;
When Echo spoke in Merit's praise,
Her breath defil'd the name.
Circled by Sin's emaciate race,
She met the Cause of ill;
No soft enchantment bound her feet,
And Phrenzy rul'd her will.
Her steely bosom, fraught with woe,
Access to Joy denied:
Her only intimates were Care,
And Peevishness and Pride.
Her raging passions never knew,
The influence of Controul;
Her wild repulsive eye pourtray'd,
The language of her soul.

141

With infamous idolatry,
She mark'd her ruthless day;
On pallid Discord's ebon fane,
Would immolate her prey.
No kindly motive touch'd the sense,
To cheat her into good;
No heav'nly agent chear'd her mind,
Or purified her blood.
By narrow principles coerc'd,
And bound by Falsehood's chain;
She saw the deeds of Merit, through
The medium of Disdain.
For, deaf to Pity's genial claim,
She broke the springs of youth;
Her arts like an infected gale,
Suppress'd the growth of Truth.
Faint with those blows which Envy gave,
From Hope, from Solace driven,
Meek Merit, goaded by Despair,
Thus pour'd her plaints to Heaven.
‘Imperial Jove, all pitying Sire,
‘Unfold thy sov'reign will;
‘Say, why am I thus doom'd to pain,
‘Whose feelings combat Ill.

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‘Say, why should Envy thus assail,
‘With keen and cruel art;
‘Or send her dreadful arrows forth,
‘To agonize my heart.
‘Did Rapture deck her meagre cheek,
‘I never should repine;
‘Ah! why is she permitted thus
‘To shake the base of mine?’
Then thus the sapient King of kings
To Merit made reply;
Beaming around refulgent rays,
And leaning from the sky:
‘Daughter of Thought, your cares forego,
‘Dispel this gloomy dream,
‘New mould the habits of your mind,
‘The evil does but seem.
‘Had Fate, when first he knit the world,
Excluded sable night,
‘Egregious man had never known
‘The excellence of light.
‘The brightest gem that e'er was torn
‘From rich Golconda's mine,
‘If not oppos'd to something gross,
‘Had ne'er been known to shine.

143

‘Then go, sweet nymph, enjoy thy state,
‘Let Envy nurse her brood;
‘Embrace the points of human worth,
‘And give the Harpy food.’