The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse (1735-1820): Edited by the Rev. R. I. Woodhouse |
 | I, II. |
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| POEMS ON Several Occasions ... WITH An Address to the Public. |
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 | The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
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POEMS ON Several Occasions ... WITH An Address to the Public.
143
RIDICULE.
Is there no champion in the lists of fame,
Who dare stand forth to guard a Sovereign's name?
Who dare take up the glove, return the stone,
Presumption has dropp'd down, and pride has thrown?
No hero, mail'd with wealth, with honour casqu'd,
Who dare disdain disguise; appear unmask'd;
With warlike weapons, boldly to oppose,
A king's false friends, or hosts of ambush'd foes?
Who dare stand forth to guard a Sovereign's name?
Who dare take up the glove, return the stone,
Presumption has dropp'd down, and pride has thrown?
No hero, mail'd with wealth, with honour casqu'd,
Who dare disdain disguise; appear unmask'd;
With warlike weapons, boldly to oppose,
A king's false friends, or hosts of ambush'd foes?
Come, titled valour! mount thy mettled steed,
Resolv'd to conquer, nor afraid to bleed:
With lance well-temper'd, and with well-try'd shield,
Inur'd to combat, and unknown to yield;
With quick-perceiving head, and dauntless heart,
Arm'd at all points, and prov'd in every part;
Arms forg'd by fortitude, made fit for youth,
By virtue polish'd, buckled on by truth;
Where Ridicule perceives no ill-clos'd joint,
That wit's frail spears can pierce with pigmy point,
But beats each weapon back with strong rebound,
To screen the wearer, and the wielders wound.
Resolv'd to conquer, nor afraid to bleed:
With lance well-temper'd, and with well-try'd shield,
Inur'd to combat, and unknown to yield;
With quick-perceiving head, and dauntless heart,
Arm'd at all points, and prov'd in every part;
Arms forg'd by fortitude, made fit for youth,
By virtue polish'd, buckled on by truth;
Where Ridicule perceives no ill-clos'd joint,
That wit's frail spears can pierce with pigmy point,
But beats each weapon back with strong rebound,
To screen the wearer, and the wielders wound.
Will no accoutred veteran venture forth,
Of harden'd courage, and of well-known worth,
By decency and duty summon'd out,
To meet a mob, confront a rabble-rout?
Of harden'd courage, and of well-known worth,
By decency and duty summon'd out,
To meet a mob, confront a rabble-rout?
Let not the task devolve on feeble age,
Ne'er known in fields, or fir'd with martial rage:
Unhackney'd in the hostile haunts of life,
In private contest, and in public strife:
In wordy war with loud loquacious men,
The pencil's tournaments, or tilts with pen:
Caparison'd alone with honest zeal,
For Monarch's merit, Constitution's weal,
A bard obscure, with eloquence unfit
To cope with cunning, or to war with wit,
Unfledg'd with fortune, and unflush'd with fame;
Unbless'd by learning, and scarce known by name;
Ne'er fawn'd for favour, put in proud pretence
To skill in song, or altitude of sense;
Expects no office, no caress at court,
Nor dreads the javelins hurl'd by spite or sport;
But dares attempt true virtue's cause defend,
In highest potentate, or humblest friend:
Dares hated vice decry, false fame disown,
Tho' found with friends, or foster'd by a throne;
Who arrogates no eagle's ardent eye,
Or pinion proud against the sun to fly;
Or like the screech-owl shuns the light of day,
To scream a scrannel strain, and pounce for prey;
Nor e'er with ostentation's pipe, presumes
To straddle Pegasus, and pluck his plumes,
But picks a feather from the Halcyon's wing,
To pen the praise of peace, and patriot king.
Ne'er known in fields, or fir'd with martial rage:
Unhackney'd in the hostile haunts of life,
In private contest, and in public strife:
In wordy war with loud loquacious men,
The pencil's tournaments, or tilts with pen:
Caparison'd alone with honest zeal,
For Monarch's merit, Constitution's weal,
A bard obscure, with eloquence unfit
To cope with cunning, or to war with wit,
Unfledg'd with fortune, and unflush'd with fame;
Unbless'd by learning, and scarce known by name;
Ne'er fawn'd for favour, put in proud pretence
To skill in song, or altitude of sense;
Expects no office, no caress at court,
Nor dreads the javelins hurl'd by spite or sport;
But dares attempt true virtue's cause defend,
In highest potentate, or humblest friend:
Dares hated vice decry, false fame disown,
Tho' found with friends, or foster'd by a throne;
Who arrogates no eagle's ardent eye,
Or pinion proud against the sun to fly;
Or like the screech-owl shuns the light of day,
To scream a scrannel strain, and pounce for prey;
Nor e'er with ostentation's pipe, presumes
To straddle Pegasus, and pluck his plumes,
But picks a feather from the Halcyon's wing,
To pen the praise of peace, and patriot king.
Tho' quite unskill'd in fencing, or in fight,
The weakest arm may hope to help the right;
May hope a weapon, weak and worn, to wield,
To interpose a small, but solid, shield,
To foil a foe, or fire sublimer blood,
To vindicate a King, his country's good.
The weakest arm may hope to help the right;
May hope a weapon, weak and worn, to wield,
To interpose a small, but solid, shield,
To foil a foe, or fire sublimer blood,
To vindicate a King, his country's good.
It may be deem'd that Majesty's too high,
For darts of wrath, or ridicule, to fly;
But kings must keener feel, from Raillery's pen,
Or vile invective speech, than meaner men:
And tho' a nation's father ne'er may need
His children's aid in civil broils to bleed;
All sons and subjects ought to bear a part,
To fence a Sire's and Sovereign's head and heart;
And every sword, and pen, spontaneous draw,
To fight the foes of liberty, and law.
For darts of wrath, or ridicule, to fly;
But kings must keener feel, from Raillery's pen,
144
And tho' a nation's father ne'er may need
His children's aid in civil broils to bleed;
All sons and subjects ought to bear a part,
To fence a Sire's and Sovereign's head and heart;
And every sword, and pen, spontaneous draw,
To fight the foes of liberty, and law.
And tho' the simple bard be found so low,
He shuns no shaft discharg'd by bastard bow;
Nor fears, nor flies, its force, its point or speed,
While leagu'd with truth and seeking moral meed;
But boldly battles all the ribald rhymes,
The lawless libels of licentious times;
By bold allegiance beckon'd out to war,
To face each danger, and defy each scar;
Nor fear Scorn's finger, dreads not Anger's rod,
Engag'd in combats claim'd by King and God.
Sincerity steps forth from hiding hole,
Nerv'd by her native energy of soul,
Opposing fervently her feeble force,
To check improper Scorn's mistaken course;
Calling all cowards, that can calmly sit,
And idly laugh o'er low illiberal wit.
He shuns no shaft discharg'd by bastard bow;
Nor fears, nor flies, its force, its point or speed,
While leagu'd with truth and seeking moral meed;
But boldly battles all the ribald rhymes,
The lawless libels of licentious times;
By bold allegiance beckon'd out to war,
To face each danger, and defy each scar;
Nor fear Scorn's finger, dreads not Anger's rod,
Engag'd in combats claim'd by King and God.
Sincerity steps forth from hiding hole,
Nerv'd by her native energy of soul,
Opposing fervently her feeble force,
To check improper Scorn's mistaken course;
Calling all cowards, that can calmly sit,
And idly laugh o'er low illiberal wit.
Is wretched Ridicule, truth's proper test?
The true criterion of judgment, jest?
Is there a mystic charm in scornful sneer,
To make a cloudy understanding clear?
Or in loud laugh miraculous effect,
Creating novel powers of intellect?
Is equity's characteristic joke,
To strip vile perfidy's concealing cloak?
The best expedients, calumny and scoff,
To tear fool's foils, or vice's vizors off?
Will morals and religion clearer shine,
Their decent suits conceal'd, and charms divine,
In mockery mask'd, false gems, and frippery gown,
Like wanton trulls and trollops of the town?
Or rights and property more firmly stand,
By hoots and hisses round rebellious land?
The true criterion of judgment, jest?
Is there a mystic charm in scornful sneer,
To make a cloudy understanding clear?
Or in loud laugh miraculous effect,
Creating novel powers of intellect?
Is equity's characteristic joke,
To strip vile perfidy's concealing cloak?
The best expedients, calumny and scoff,
To tear fool's foils, or vice's vizors off?
Will morals and religion clearer shine,
Their decent suits conceal'd, and charms divine,
In mockery mask'd, false gems, and frippery gown,
Like wanton trulls and trollops of the town?
Or rights and property more firmly stand,
By hoots and hisses round rebellious land?
Should frolic fancy, in creative hour,
To exercise her necromantic pow'r,
Call up a Newton from the silent shade,
With all her freaks and finery array'd;
Carictur'd, and ting'd, by sport and spleen,
With gawky gait, low leer, and maniac mien,
Labell'd with lies and vulgar verse, at once,
It proves him neither madman, dupe, or dunce.
Let him by prompt prolific pencil stand,
With sceptral telescope in dexter hand,
His left adorn'd with Saturn's girdled globe,
Prismatic colours dawb his rainbow robe,
And figur'd foils, in groups grotesque and fine,
With spangled sprigs, like constellations shine.
In vacant space, o'er all the antic stole,
Smooth spheres, and cones, o'er cubes and rhomboids roll;
And diagrams, and symbols, many a row,
Festoon'd, fantastic, form the furbelow;
Suspended, loose, along the slattern skirt,
Beplash'd and spatter'd deep with dung and dirt;
An iron zodiac, zon'd about his waist,
Twelve signs, of lead, with tawdry tinsel grac'd;
And polish'd instruments, a nameless throng,
O'er neck and breast in wild disorder hung;
With copper suns and pewter planets crown'd,
By moons of tin, and brazen comets bound:
Fring'd round the verge magnets and prisms appear,
To shine and jingle, in the eye and ear.
Half-orbits occupy the upper space,
Of all the centric, and excentric race;
And, scatter'd thick, o'er all the curves and curls
Let soapy bubbles swell, like mimic pearls;
While cheeks receive, and give full flatus vent,
To blow new bubbles up, to vast extent.
To exercise her necromantic pow'r,
Call up a Newton from the silent shade,
With all her freaks and finery array'd;
Carictur'd, and ting'd, by sport and spleen,
With gawky gait, low leer, and maniac mien,
Labell'd with lies and vulgar verse, at once,
It proves him neither madman, dupe, or dunce.
Let him by prompt prolific pencil stand,
With sceptral telescope in dexter hand,
His left adorn'd with Saturn's girdled globe,
Prismatic colours dawb his rainbow robe,
And figur'd foils, in groups grotesque and fine,
With spangled sprigs, like constellations shine.
In vacant space, o'er all the antic stole,
Smooth spheres, and cones, o'er cubes and rhomboids roll;
And diagrams, and symbols, many a row,
Festoon'd, fantastic, form the furbelow;
Suspended, loose, along the slattern skirt,
Beplash'd and spatter'd deep with dung and dirt;
An iron zodiac, zon'd about his waist,
Twelve signs, of lead, with tawdry tinsel grac'd;
And polish'd instruments, a nameless throng,
O'er neck and breast in wild disorder hung;
With copper suns and pewter planets crown'd,
By moons of tin, and brazen comets bound:
Fring'd round the verge magnets and prisms appear,
To shine and jingle, in the eye and ear.
Half-orbits occupy the upper space,
Of all the centric, and excentric race;
And, scatter'd thick, o'er all the curves and curls
Let soapy bubbles swell, like mimic pearls;
While cheeks receive, and give full flatus vent,
To blow new bubbles up, to vast extent.
Should Newton thus, expos'd in public street,
The heavy eye of lounging leisure meet,
In ev'ry print-shop's exhibition plac'd,
With megrims and with mummery disgrac'd;
In robe burlesque, and droll regalia, drest,
Low levity's, dull dissipation's jest;
Would sound philosophy and sober sense,
Rail with the rabble, feel with fops, offence?
Or special pleader strive to find a rule
To prove the philosophic chief a fool?
The heavy eye of lounging leisure meet,
In ev'ry print-shop's exhibition plac'd,
With megrims and with mummery disgrac'd;
In robe burlesque, and droll regalia, drest,
Low levity's, dull dissipation's jest;
Would sound philosophy and sober sense,
Rail with the rabble, feel with fops, offence?
Or special pleader strive to find a rule
To prove the philosophic chief a fool?
Would Locke's disciples e'er by fancy find
The wondrous workings of the human mind,
By images, inadequate, to shew
How seeds are sown, whence first ideas grow?
Endeavour to illustrate by a joke,
How spirit, thought, or inspiration spoke?
Aim to demonstrate by incongruous jest,
How judgment poises, rhetoric reasons best?
Or led by mere imagination's ray,
How reason and reflection find their way?
They ne'er on wings of whim pursue their flight,
Thro' chaos, dark, of intellectual night;
Devoid of card, or compass, sail or fly,
To course the deep, or navigate the sky:
Nor, spurr'd by petulance, attempt to trace
The earth's dark womb, or plains of ambient space.
The wondrous workings of the human mind,
By images, inadequate, to shew
145
Endeavour to illustrate by a joke,
How spirit, thought, or inspiration spoke?
Aim to demonstrate by incongruous jest,
How judgment poises, rhetoric reasons best?
Or led by mere imagination's ray,
How reason and reflection find their way?
They ne'er on wings of whim pursue their flight,
Thro' chaos, dark, of intellectual night;
Devoid of card, or compass, sail or fly,
To course the deep, or navigate the sky:
Nor, spurr'd by petulance, attempt to trace
The earth's dark womb, or plains of ambient space.
Did ever casuist, in defining schools,
Determine truth by wit's fallacious rules?
Or scoffing scholar, with loud laugh, declaim,
Secure from castigation, blur, or blame?
Much less hope honour, or expect applause,
From banish'd order, or from blemish'd laws.
Determine truth by wit's fallacious rules?
Or scoffing scholar, with loud laugh, declaim,
Secure from castigation, blur, or blame?
Much less hope honour, or expect applause,
From banish'd order, or from blemish'd laws.
No civil magistrate, in judgment-place,
When canvassing the meanest culprit's case,
Allows a laugh substantial evidence,
To clear a convict, or condemn defence;
Nor lets Contempt stand up, in Candour's room,
To hurry or delay delinquent's doom;
Much less a jejune jingle of rough rhymes,
To stab, or strangle, for imagin'd crimes.
When canvassing the meanest culprit's case,
Allows a laugh substantial evidence,
To clear a convict, or condemn defence;
Nor lets Contempt stand up, in Candour's room,
To hurry or delay delinquent's doom;
Much less a jejune jingle of rough rhymes,
To stab, or strangle, for imagin'd crimes.
In Justice, no adept's by raillery made,
Or Equity e'er taught her stedfast trade:
No giggling barrister dare babbling stand,
To argue libels laws, in British land:
No ribald wretch, by sophistry and sound,
Can puzzle sense, or modesty confound,
But Justice, mounted, like the sun, supreme,
Dispels each mist, and dissipates each dream.
Not even a tittering deponent dare,
Appear before a nisi prius bar,
In simplest cause, or civil contest slight,
Confounding faith, or confiscating right:
And shall vociferous laughter, out of breath,
Decree demerit pending life and death?
Or ode obscene, and sacrilegious song,
Judge Crowns, and prove whole kingdoms right or wrong?
And what is life, or death, or shout, or shame,
But moral character, or miscreant's name?
What persecution, insolence, and lies,
But Christian's tryal? Wisdom's exercise?
Yet human hopes and happiness depend
On moral pow'r's pursuing pious end,
And he's the worst of patriots, worst of men,
Who virtue violates with tongue or pen:
And he resembles best the pow'rs above,
Who urges order, and allures by love.
Or Equity e'er taught her stedfast trade:
No giggling barrister dare babbling stand,
To argue libels laws, in British land:
No ribald wretch, by sophistry and sound,
Can puzzle sense, or modesty confound,
But Justice, mounted, like the sun, supreme,
Dispels each mist, and dissipates each dream.
Not even a tittering deponent dare,
Appear before a nisi prius bar,
In simplest cause, or civil contest slight,
Confounding faith, or confiscating right:
And shall vociferous laughter, out of breath,
Decree demerit pending life and death?
Or ode obscene, and sacrilegious song,
Judge Crowns, and prove whole kingdoms right or wrong?
And what is life, or death, or shout, or shame,
But moral character, or miscreant's name?
What persecution, insolence, and lies,
But Christian's tryal? Wisdom's exercise?
Yet human hopes and happiness depend
On moral pow'r's pursuing pious end,
And he's the worst of patriots, worst of men,
Who virtue violates with tongue or pen:
And he resembles best the pow'rs above,
Who urges order, and allures by love.
'Tis not thy proper business, Ridicule,
To scourge a rogue, or tantalize a fool;
Nor faults and follies wantonly rehearse,
In pointed speech, edg'd prose, or biting verse:
Then might no orator, or author, 'scape
The fate of such in colour, size, or shape;
Unless deputed purity, alone,
Might give the sentence, and discharge the stone.
The rogue's effrontery all truth defies;
The fool's unfeeling both to truth and lies:
That, senseless grown to stripes, or stinging strain;
This, maugre malice, volatile and vain:
That, cool and callous, neither feels or fears;
This claims our patience, and forestals our tears:
The latter, nature's, custom's, habit's elf,
The former, nobly made, but marr'd by self.
And who's the man, immaculate and pure,
Whose spirit soars, from soil and sin secure?
To scourge a rogue, or tantalize a fool;
Nor faults and follies wantonly rehearse,
In pointed speech, edg'd prose, or biting verse:
Then might no orator, or author, 'scape
The fate of such in colour, size, or shape;
Unless deputed purity, alone,
Might give the sentence, and discharge the stone.
The rogue's effrontery all truth defies;
The fool's unfeeling both to truth and lies:
That, senseless grown to stripes, or stinging strain;
This, maugre malice, volatile and vain:
That, cool and callous, neither feels or fears;
This claims our patience, and forestals our tears:
The latter, nature's, custom's, habit's elf,
The former, nobly made, but marr'd by self.
And who's the man, immaculate and pure,
Whose spirit soars, from soil and sin secure?
As laughter enters into nature's plan,
Composing part of every perfect man;
Fills up a niche in every finish'd dome,
To please spectators, and to chear her home.
No statuary truly good and wise,
E'er cloaks his art beneath a false disguise;
Nor prudent builder places statues so,
As shocks domestics, to indulge a foe:
But scarcely can the sober serious mind,
Perceive what use the architect design'd,
Yet knows, from analogic reasoning, clear,
Pure wisdom plac'd, for good, the image there.
Composing part of every perfect man;
Fills up a niche in every finish'd dome,
To please spectators, and to chear her home.
No statuary truly good and wise,
E'er cloaks his art beneath a false disguise;
Nor prudent builder places statues so,
As shocks domestics, to indulge a foe:
But scarcely can the sober serious mind,
Perceive what use the architect design'd,
Yet knows, from analogic reasoning, clear,
Pure wisdom plac'd, for good, the image there.
146
As all the passions of the human breast
Impel to action, or compose to rest;
Inflame, or cool, excite, or soothe the soul,
Conspiring to preserve, and guard, the whole;
As will goads on, by pure affections led,
Heav'n heaves the heart, and reason rules the head:
But if rebellion vex each vital part,
The head made dark by demons in the heart,
The will runs riot, while the passions rule,
The soul a slave, and reason quite a tool.
When reason governs, as her Maker meant,
Each subject passion feels its proper bent:
None hurries on to urge injurious strife;
None loiters to relax the springs of life:
None chills with agues, or with fevers fires;
Represses right, or raises wrong desires:
But, firm, in friendship and affiance join'd,
All help true happiness throughout mankind;
While, seeking pleasures, and avoiding pains,
Will whips, or curbs, as reason holds the reins.
Impel to action, or compose to rest;
Inflame, or cool, excite, or soothe the soul,
Conspiring to preserve, and guard, the whole;
As will goads on, by pure affections led,
Heav'n heaves the heart, and reason rules the head:
But if rebellion vex each vital part,
The head made dark by demons in the heart,
The will runs riot, while the passions rule,
The soul a slave, and reason quite a tool.
When reason governs, as her Maker meant,
Each subject passion feels its proper bent:
None hurries on to urge injurious strife;
None loiters to relax the springs of life:
None chills with agues, or with fevers fires;
Represses right, or raises wrong desires:
But, firm, in friendship and affiance join'd,
All help true happiness throughout mankind;
While, seeking pleasures, and avoiding pains,
Will whips, or curbs, as reason holds the reins.
Affections all were pure, and passions bland,
When man first started from his Maker's hand;
And he's the firmest friend of God and man,
Who best restores, and keeps, that pristine plan.
Did all mankind possess that godlike worth,
New Edens would arise o'er all the earth:
No creature then would creature's bliss destroy,
But all conspire to aid the general joy.
Then laughter would assume her proper mien,
To purge her own, expel another's spleen,
By slight convulsion; not by grim grimace,
To spoil possessor's, and beholder's, face;
Not innocence to fire, or ignorance foil,
But tune good temper, soften'd to a smile.
When man first started from his Maker's hand;
And he's the firmest friend of God and man,
Who best restores, and keeps, that pristine plan.
Did all mankind possess that godlike worth,
New Edens would arise o'er all the earth:
No creature then would creature's bliss destroy,
But all conspire to aid the general joy.
Then laughter would assume her proper mien,
To purge her own, expel another's spleen,
By slight convulsion; not by grim grimace,
To spoil possessor's, and beholder's, face;
Not innocence to fire, or ignorance foil,
But tune good temper, soften'd to a smile.
And why should wits, in this wild state of things,
Range round, like bees, all arm'd with barbed stings,
Not wounding foes, provok'd by base abuse;
Not hoarding honey for their future use;
But sucking venom from each smiling flow'r;
Transfusing thro' each heart the poisonous pow'r.
Range round, like bees, all arm'd with barbed stings,
Not wounding foes, provok'd by base abuse;
Not hoarding honey for their future use;
But sucking venom from each smiling flow'r;
Transfusing thro' each heart the poisonous pow'r.
If Ridicule will work her wanton way,
And quest each spot to start her proper prey;
Let her with Wit and Humour tread the streets,
And jostle every Hypocrite she meets;
Point out each Proteus; grin at fellow ape;
And mock each monster in the biped shape;
Haunt public places, thread the mazy crowd;
With song sarcastic; laughter long and loud;
Till shook with shame, and shock'd with clam'rous squall,
Hypocrisy lets mask and mantle fall;
And Affectation, struck by Humour's eye,
Throws all her foibles, toys, and trinkets, by.
Not with Impertinence, hook'd arm in arm,
To joke the gentle, and the good alarm;
Stalking, with pride and insolence, along,
Drive individuals, and annoy the throng.
Nor families and private parties lurch,
That honour crowns, and dignify the church;
The fairest characters in umbre draw,
And wedge wide open every trifling flaw;
At meals, and pure amusements, pimp, and peep,
To harrass Honour, and make Meekness weep;
Disturb decorum, piety provoke
To spurn the joker, and despise the joke.
And quest each spot to start her proper prey;
Let her with Wit and Humour tread the streets,
And jostle every Hypocrite she meets;
Point out each Proteus; grin at fellow ape;
And mock each monster in the biped shape;
Haunt public places, thread the mazy crowd;
With song sarcastic; laughter long and loud;
Till shook with shame, and shock'd with clam'rous squall,
Hypocrisy lets mask and mantle fall;
And Affectation, struck by Humour's eye,
Throws all her foibles, toys, and trinkets, by.
Not with Impertinence, hook'd arm in arm,
To joke the gentle, and the good alarm;
Stalking, with pride and insolence, along,
Drive individuals, and annoy the throng.
Nor families and private parties lurch,
That honour crowns, and dignify the church;
The fairest characters in umbre draw,
And wedge wide open every trifling flaw;
At meals, and pure amusements, pimp, and peep,
To harrass Honour, and make Meekness weep;
Disturb decorum, piety provoke
To spurn the joker, and despise the joke.
Is Ridicule, in this, the test of truth?
Pure proof of prowess? maxim meet for youth?
Laughter may slacken, cannot nerve the mind,
May close the eyelids, never light the blind:
May lighten labour, not increase its length,
May soothe the weary, not augment their strength.
Pure proof of prowess? maxim meet for youth?
Laughter may slacken, cannot nerve the mind,
May close the eyelids, never light the blind:
May lighten labour, not increase its length,
May soothe the weary, not augment their strength.
Would giggling warrior well his weapons wield?
Contend with courage, and maintain the field?
Would Humphreys stand the first in fighting list,
Relax'd by laughter in the feats of fist?
Would tittering runner rival all the plain?
Or simpering porter heaviest load sustain?
Contend with courage, and maintain the field?
Would Humphreys stand the first in fighting list,
Relax'd by laughter in the feats of fist?
Would tittering runner rival all the plain?
Or simpering porter heaviest load sustain?
Mechanic might employ contrary tool,
As well as truth be try'd by Ridicule;
As well as judgment try what's right and fit,
By random strokes of incoherent wit.
Would mariner expect that laughter's gale
Would stretch each rope, and belly out each sail?
Or cobweb cable wind and wave endure?
Or needle anchor make the keel secure?
Would engineer from steam of tea-pot-spout,
Expect to move his ponderous works about?
Or miller puff to turn each weighty wheel?
Or smith with feather strive to forge his steel?
Each artist hope to place each complex part,
In buildings, or machines, by juggling art?
And subtle sophist with mere Babel sound,
Make word wound word, and nonsense sense confound?
As well as truth be try'd by Ridicule;
As well as judgment try what's right and fit,
By random strokes of incoherent wit.
Would mariner expect that laughter's gale
Would stretch each rope, and belly out each sail?
Or cobweb cable wind and wave endure?
Or needle anchor make the keel secure?
Would engineer from steam of tea-pot-spout,
147
Or miller puff to turn each weighty wheel?
Or smith with feather strive to forge his steel?
Each artist hope to place each complex part,
In buildings, or machines, by juggling art?
And subtle sophist with mere Babel sound,
Make word wound word, and nonsense sense confound?
'Tis Wisdom's office, Reason's serious task,
To punish vice, and strip the villain's mask;
Correct a crime, or rectify a wrong,
And make erroneous Weakness wise and strong:
But ne'er will Whim and Wit, with laughing lay,
Amend mistakes, or lure to wisdom's way.
Anger will combat anger's utmost might,
And Ridicule meet Ridicule in fight:
True wisdom knows no raillery can restrain,
Or conquer error, by inflicting pain.
True policy perceives that jibe and joke
Never conciliate, constantly provoke;
As salts and acids pour'd on parts unsound,
But irritate the smart, not heal the wound.
To punish vice, and strip the villain's mask;
Correct a crime, or rectify a wrong,
And make erroneous Weakness wise and strong:
But ne'er will Whim and Wit, with laughing lay,
Amend mistakes, or lure to wisdom's way.
Anger will combat anger's utmost might,
And Ridicule meet Ridicule in fight:
True wisdom knows no raillery can restrain,
Or conquer error, by inflicting pain.
True policy perceives that jibe and joke
Never conciliate, constantly provoke;
As salts and acids pour'd on parts unsound,
But irritate the smart, not heal the wound.
An Aristophanes, to Attic crowds,
Might shew a Socrates involv'd in clouds,
Yet, spite of all his art, and wit, had shewn,
Still Socrates was clear, the clouds his own.
Plato, profound, free-thinking wits may sneer,
And aim to prove his Phedon insincere;
Set up Evangelists for fools to mock,
And make Messiah stand a laughing-stock.
Might shew a Socrates involv'd in clouds,
Yet, spite of all his art, and wit, had shewn,
Still Socrates was clear, the clouds his own.
Plato, profound, free-thinking wits may sneer,
And aim to prove his Phedon insincere;
Set up Evangelists for fools to mock,
And make Messiah stand a laughing-stock.
He brought a perfect pattern from above,
Adorn'd with all the attributes of love:
His words all Truth, by Wisdom full refin'd,
And every action spoke the spotless mind:
To neither envied pomp, or power, born,
No object apt for scoff, or fit for scorn:
Who spent his time, and spilt his precious blood,
In planting piety, and grafting good:
No fault or foible, wickedness or whim,
Gave mirth or malice room to fix on him:
Yet, thus with peerless purity endued,
The vicious envied, and the vain pursued:
Pride, spite, and malice, wantonness, and wit,
Invented, lied, and libell'd, spurn'd, and spit:
And mockery, cunning, humour, gross grimace,
Scoff'd, mimic'd, sneer'd, and scorn'd, to stamp disgrace.
Adorn'd with all the attributes of love:
His words all Truth, by Wisdom full refin'd,
And every action spoke the spotless mind:
To neither envied pomp, or power, born,
No object apt for scoff, or fit for scorn:
Who spent his time, and spilt his precious blood,
In planting piety, and grafting good:
No fault or foible, wickedness or whim,
Gave mirth or malice room to fix on him:
Yet, thus with peerless purity endued,
The vicious envied, and the vain pursued:
Pride, spite, and malice, wantonness, and wit,
Invented, lied, and libell'd, spurn'd, and spit:
And mockery, cunning, humour, gross grimace,
Scoff'd, mimic'd, sneer'd, and scorn'd, to stamp disgrace.
Was this a proper exercise of art?
The pious Priest's, or perfect Patriot's, part?
True test of manners? wisdom's moral mark?
Pure spirit's fire to feed religion's spark?
The prudent Politician's noblest end,
To persecute and kill a kingdom's friend?
The pious Priest's, or perfect Patriot's, part?
True test of manners? wisdom's moral mark?
Pure spirit's fire to feed religion's spark?
The prudent Politician's noblest end,
To persecute and kill a kingdom's friend?
Sure no Professor in the liberal line,
Aims by grimace, to make the manner shine:
Or hopes, by sound of cramp, or crabbed, word,
Temper to tame, make actions less absurd:
Or by sly mockery, and subtle sneer,
To strengthen thought, and make the soul sincere:
Or leads, by trick and cunning, artless youth,
In paths of probity, or tracks of truth.
No Doctors teach, by documents acute,
That man's no more than any common brute:
Or, spurr'd by wanton malice, madly write,
As moral maxims, specimens of spite.
No prudent Pastor, by egregious grin,
Expects repentance, or absolves from sin:
With turns of wit makes unbelievers reel,
Or wakes lukewarmness to enthusiast's zeal:
Or draws indifference to Religion's side,
By superstitious spite, and bigot pride.
Nor can ill-manner'd mirth a ruler rob
Of royalty, expos'd to please a mob;
Tho' bent on malice, with immoral swing,
To vex the man, and vilify the King:
With sacrilegious filth to foul the Crown,
Scrap'd up from every scavenger in town:
Beat down the scepter from a Sovereign's hand,
To shew arch shrewdness to a shouting band:
With Barrington's adroitness filch the seal,
Clear mark of courage, and of public zeal:
Trundle the regal orb along the streets,
Exciting mockery from the mobs it meets:
Or by base bawbles foisted round the throne,
Make ingenuity and mischief known.
Aims by grimace, to make the manner shine:
Or hopes, by sound of cramp, or crabbed, word,
Temper to tame, make actions less absurd:
Or by sly mockery, and subtle sneer,
To strengthen thought, and make the soul sincere:
Or leads, by trick and cunning, artless youth,
In paths of probity, or tracks of truth.
No Doctors teach, by documents acute,
That man's no more than any common brute:
Or, spurr'd by wanton malice, madly write,
As moral maxims, specimens of spite.
No prudent Pastor, by egregious grin,
Expects repentance, or absolves from sin:
With turns of wit makes unbelievers reel,
Or wakes lukewarmness to enthusiast's zeal:
Or draws indifference to Religion's side,
By superstitious spite, and bigot pride.
Nor can ill-manner'd mirth a ruler rob
Of royalty, expos'd to please a mob;
Tho' bent on malice, with immoral swing,
To vex the man, and vilify the King:
With sacrilegious filth to foul the Crown,
Scrap'd up from every scavenger in town:
Beat down the scepter from a Sovereign's hand,
To shew arch shrewdness to a shouting band:
With Barrington's adroitness filch the seal,
Clear mark of courage, and of public zeal:
Trundle the regal orb along the streets,
Exciting mockery from the mobs it meets:
Or by base bawbles foisted round the throne,
Make ingenuity and mischief known.
So might a scullion on a steward's skirt
Hang ragged dishclout, stiff with grease and dirt,
Who condescended, with a virtuous view,
To walk the kitchen and the scullery through;
To raise a simper, and excite a sneer,
From every coxcomb, churl, or slattern there:
Or hitch, to mastiff's tail, with ideot grin,
A worn-out cannister of tinkling tin,
And while their guardian friend the nuisance wears,
Enjoy his troubles, chuckle o'er his fears:
But each beholder, bless'd with sober sense,
Is struck with duteous shame, and fond offence.
Hang ragged dishclout, stiff with grease and dirt,
Who condescended, with a virtuous view,
148
To raise a simper, and excite a sneer,
From every coxcomb, churl, or slattern there:
Or hitch, to mastiff's tail, with ideot grin,
A worn-out cannister of tinkling tin,
And while their guardian friend the nuisance wears,
Enjoy his troubles, chuckle o'er his fears:
But each beholder, bless'd with sober sense,
Is struck with duteous shame, and fond offence.
So have I seen a chimney-sweeper meet
A well-dress'd citizen in crowded street,
With giddy gambol, or mischievous push,
His cleanly coat, with bag, or elbow, brush;
While laughs increase, and mean ungenerous joy,
From every low buffoon, or black-guard, by:
But all around, discernment e'er would trust,
Express resentment, and diffuse disgust.
A well-dress'd citizen in crowded street,
With giddy gambol, or mischievous push,
His cleanly coat, with bag, or elbow, brush;
While laughs increase, and mean ungenerous joy,
From every low buffoon, or black-guard, by:
But all around, discernment e'er would trust,
Express resentment, and diffuse disgust.
Were Kings appointed, and were Princes born,
For butts of malice, and for marks of scorn?
Lit up, like earthly lights, on highest hill,
For wits to snuff, or prigs put out at will?
Or set, like suns, for coxcombs, dupes, and sots,
To point their puny tubes and spy the spots?
Or epic poems, where vain scribblers, vext,
May make mean comments, aim to mend the text?
For butts of malice, and for marks of scorn?
Lit up, like earthly lights, on highest hill,
For wits to snuff, or prigs put out at will?
Or set, like suns, for coxcombs, dupes, and sots,
To point their puny tubes and spy the spots?
Or epic poems, where vain scribblers, vext,
May make mean comments, aim to mend the text?
No genuine Beauty dreads the envious brush
Should shew false features, or unnatural blush:
Enlarg'd, or lessen'd, to extremest size,
The likeness kept still beauty strikes all eyes;
Ting'd warm, or weak, by scandal, or by skill,
The semblance still preserv'd 'tis beauty still.
Tho' some faint freckle, some small spot, or speck,
May mark the bosom, stain the face, or neck;
The furnish no offence to candid eye,
Complexion spoil, or symmetry destroy:
So genuine Virtue fears no speech, or pen,
Should spoil her charms, held up to fellow men;
For tho' fell envy, malice, spite, and pride,
May torture, strain, diminish, or deride,
Still if her charming sense, and sounds, are clear,
The truths, and tones, will catch each heart, and ear;
Express'd serene or strong, by boast, or blame,
In prose, or verse, still Virtue shews the same,
Tho' some quick passion, or some small mistake,
May make articulation shout, or shake,
Yet still no honest heart, or ear, disdains,
To hear her music, or preserve her strains:
A summer's morn may frown with clouds and wind,
Experience proves the sun's fair light's behind.
Should shew false features, or unnatural blush:
Enlarg'd, or lessen'd, to extremest size,
The likeness kept still beauty strikes all eyes;
Ting'd warm, or weak, by scandal, or by skill,
The semblance still preserv'd 'tis beauty still.
Tho' some faint freckle, some small spot, or speck,
May mark the bosom, stain the face, or neck;
The furnish no offence to candid eye,
Complexion spoil, or symmetry destroy:
So genuine Virtue fears no speech, or pen,
Should spoil her charms, held up to fellow men;
For tho' fell envy, malice, spite, and pride,
May torture, strain, diminish, or deride,
Still if her charming sense, and sounds, are clear,
The truths, and tones, will catch each heart, and ear;
Express'd serene or strong, by boast, or blame,
In prose, or verse, still Virtue shews the same,
Tho' some quick passion, or some small mistake,
May make articulation shout, or shake,
Yet still no honest heart, or ear, disdains,
To hear her music, or preserve her strains:
A summer's morn may frown with clouds and wind,
Experience proves the sun's fair light's behind.
What constitutes the fairest, firmest ground,
Where man's maturest happiness is found?
Where freshest flowerets, and where fullest fruit,
May all desires, and all diseases, suit?
Where best materials grow, and structures rise,
For shelter here, and scaffolds to the skies?
Where man's maturest happiness is found?
Where freshest flowerets, and where fullest fruit,
May all desires, and all diseases, suit?
Where best materials grow, and structures rise,
For shelter here, and scaffolds to the skies?
Not the wild woodland, or the haggard heath,
With brutes above, and barrenness beneath;
Where danger prowls by night. and skulks by day,
And man's expos'd to man a mutual prey:
But where fenc'd furrow'd fields and gardens glow,
To furnish food and pastime here below.
With brutes above, and barrenness beneath;
Where danger prowls by night. and skulks by day,
And man's expos'd to man a mutual prey:
But where fenc'd furrow'd fields and gardens glow,
To furnish food and pastime here below.
Not flow'rs that furnish rank offensive smells,
From hills uncultur'd, or from weedy dells;
Whose seeds explor'd by Vanity, at first,
Fancy had sown, Imagination nurs'd;
In Passion's hot-bed planted by Desire,
By Envy's dung matur'd, and Mischief's fire;
By mask'd Malevolence alone desir'd,
By Folly sought, and Indolence admir'd:
No useful simple springs amidst the pest;
No virtuous florist wears them near his breast:
And tho' to better botanists well known,
They're spurn'd when planted, and abhorr'd when blown.
Not the tree-primrose that expands by night,
But shuts its blooms before celestial light:
Not servile sunflow'rs, whose gilt eyelids run,
To meet each rising and each setting sun:
Not parasitic ivy's boasting breed,
On others strength, and toil, to climb, and feed;
Nor poppy proud, pragmatic, pert, and gay,
That spreads new opiate petals every day:
But such as greet the sight, or nasal sense;
That cheering cordials, healing balms dispense;
Which, aloe-like, with cost and care uprear,
One flow'ring stem, to bloom each hundredth year;
Or gentle-flow'r, in fadeless beauty clad,
To make the master and the gard'ner glad.
From hills uncultur'd, or from weedy dells;
Whose seeds explor'd by Vanity, at first,
Fancy had sown, Imagination nurs'd;
In Passion's hot-bed planted by Desire,
By Envy's dung matur'd, and Mischief's fire;
By mask'd Malevolence alone desir'd,
By Folly sought, and Indolence admir'd:
No useful simple springs amidst the pest;
No virtuous florist wears them near his breast:
And tho' to better botanists well known,
They're spurn'd when planted, and abhorr'd when blown.
Not the tree-primrose that expands by night,
But shuts its blooms before celestial light:
Not servile sunflow'rs, whose gilt eyelids run,
To meet each rising and each setting sun:
Not parasitic ivy's boasting breed,
On others strength, and toil, to climb, and feed;
Nor poppy proud, pragmatic, pert, and gay,
That spreads new opiate petals every day:
But such as greet the sight, or nasal sense;
That cheering cordials, healing balms dispense;
Which, aloe-like, with cost and care uprear,
One flow'ring stem, to bloom each hundredth year;
149
To make the master and the gard'ner glad.
No wildlings, in man's garden, e'er should grow;
No bitter cherry, and no acid sloe;
But imp'd with cyons of more generous race,
With finer flavour, and with fairer face;
Affording every friend a rich desert,
To gratify desire, exempt from hurt.
Nor should vile thorns and brambles riot there,
To banish better births, to teize and tear;
Nor Sodom apples, with seducing smile,
To tempt the hand, but all that eat beguile;
Or deadly-nightshade, cloking Circe's hate,
Whose looks allure, but full fruition's fate.
No bitter cherry, and no acid sloe;
But imp'd with cyons of more generous race,
With finer flavour, and with fairer face;
Affording every friend a rich desert,
To gratify desire, exempt from hurt.
Nor should vile thorns and brambles riot there,
To banish better births, to teize and tear;
Nor Sodom apples, with seducing smile,
To tempt the hand, but all that eat beguile;
Or deadly-nightshade, cloking Circe's hate,
Whose looks allure, but full fruition's fate.
No impious Babels, plann'd by passion, rise,
But lust's vain ladders rear'd, to scale the skies:
No false ambition stable fabrics frames,
For living shelters, or for lasting fames:
No sun-burnt bricks of clay, or slippery slime,
Furnish materials fit to baffle time.
But lust's vain ladders rear'd, to scale the skies:
No false ambition stable fabrics frames,
For living shelters, or for lasting fames:
No sun-burnt bricks of clay, or slippery slime,
Furnish materials fit to baffle time.
When people learn like language, speak like speech,
Which Heav'n inspires, and legislators teach,
With stones and cement form'd by pow'r divine,
Strong turrets may arise, endure, and shine.
While magistrates maintain their proper sway,
Superiors guide, subalterns well obey;
All ranks, reciprocal, recede, or rule,
No one a tyrant, and no one a tool;
No pow'rs usurp, no discontents controul,
But every individual helps the whole.
United efforts, rapidly, produce
Structures for strength, for ornament and use:
But crowds confus'd can ne'er construct a dome,
For public honour, or for peaceful home.
A maddening multitude, with uproar fill'd
May vainly dictate, and must badly build:
Confusion frustrates every virtuous view,
Division and destruction soon ensue;
While dissolution and dispersion rends,
And all in blank annihilation ends.
Order despis'd, like words ill-understood,
Produces riot; mars all public good:
And where sedition and contempt preside,
Peace is defunct, and every compact void;
Inert all law; all legislation loose;
Where decency's dethron'd by base abuse:
And that's a traitor of the deepest dye,
Who shoves distinction, elbows order, by.
Who treats authority with disrespect,
Must mock the Gospel, and his God reject:
For all who Revelation's code revere,
Will honour Sovereigns while their God they fear.
Which Heav'n inspires, and legislators teach,
With stones and cement form'd by pow'r divine,
Strong turrets may arise, endure, and shine.
While magistrates maintain their proper sway,
Superiors guide, subalterns well obey;
All ranks, reciprocal, recede, or rule,
No one a tyrant, and no one a tool;
No pow'rs usurp, no discontents controul,
But every individual helps the whole.
United efforts, rapidly, produce
Structures for strength, for ornament and use:
But crowds confus'd can ne'er construct a dome,
For public honour, or for peaceful home.
A maddening multitude, with uproar fill'd
May vainly dictate, and must badly build:
Confusion frustrates every virtuous view,
Division and destruction soon ensue;
While dissolution and dispersion rends,
And all in blank annihilation ends.
Order despis'd, like words ill-understood,
Produces riot; mars all public good:
And where sedition and contempt preside,
Peace is defunct, and every compact void;
Inert all law; all legislation loose;
Where decency's dethron'd by base abuse:
And that's a traitor of the deepest dye,
Who shoves distinction, elbows order, by.
Who treats authority with disrespect,
Must mock the Gospel, and his God reject:
For all who Revelation's code revere,
Will honour Sovereigns while their God they fear.
What man of sense would murder moral hopes,
To merit misery, flagellations, ropes?
For fools' caresses, and for fribbles' fame,
Cashier his conscience? Blot his Christian name?
In hopes that fops jack-pudding rhymes may read,
Rescind his catechism, and scout his creed?
Deistic lessons, from debauchery, learn;
Turn Piety adrift? His Bible burn?
With sophists, proud, in sceptic science plod?
Deny his Saviour, and blaspheme his God?
By all earth's sober citizens abhorr'd,
Reverse of David, and of David's Lord.
To merit misery, flagellations, ropes?
For fools' caresses, and for fribbles' fame,
Cashier his conscience? Blot his Christian name?
In hopes that fops jack-pudding rhymes may read,
Rescind his catechism, and scout his creed?
Deistic lessons, from debauchery, learn;
Turn Piety adrift? His Bible burn?
With sophists, proud, in sceptic science plod?
Deny his Saviour, and blaspheme his God?
By all earth's sober citizens abhorr'd,
Reverse of David, and of David's Lord.
Who would for lucre, lust, or poor applause,
Assault a Monarch, or insult the laws?
Unhinge society, make morals slack,
And break each bit that holds rebellion back?
Destroy restraint? Make retribution cease?
Dissolve the constitution? Banish peace?
Make magistracy taunts and stripes endure,
And render all possessions insecure?
Let loose licentiousness, like whelming flood,
And deluge whole communities with blood?
Convulse each heart with enmity and strife,
And substitute, once more, the savage life?
With fell dissension, fill each fertile plain,
And call back anarchy from hell again?
Assault a Monarch, or insult the laws?
Unhinge society, make morals slack,
And break each bit that holds rebellion back?
Destroy restraint? Make retribution cease?
Dissolve the constitution? Banish peace?
Make magistracy taunts and stripes endure,
And render all possessions insecure?
Let loose licentiousness, like whelming flood,
And deluge whole communities with blood?
Convulse each heart with enmity and strife,
And substitute, once more, the savage life?
With fell dissension, fill each fertile plain,
And call back anarchy from hell again?
If such immoral monster may be found,
Living at large on civilized ground,
Misery and madness must his steps attend,
Where fondling lover's found, or faithful friend:
All mutual knots that milder mortals bind,
Must fret and fester fix'd on such a mind:
The peace of others must his peace besiege:
No obligation ever can oblige:
Content in others his content destroy:
All virtuous transport suffocate his joy:
Meekness and gentleness engender strife:
Politeness, pure, become the curse of life:
Sincere veracity restrain his breath,
And sober seriousness endanger death:
Humility's delights with pride o'er-grown;
All other Christian comforts quite unknown.
Living at large on civilized ground,
Misery and madness must his steps attend,
Where fondling lover's found, or faithful friend:
All mutual knots that milder mortals bind,
Must fret and fester fix'd on such a mind:
The peace of others must his peace besiege:
No obligation ever can oblige:
150
All virtuous transport suffocate his joy:
Meekness and gentleness engender strife:
Politeness, pure, become the curse of life:
Sincere veracity restrain his breath,
And sober seriousness endanger death:
Humility's delights with pride o'er-grown;
All other Christian comforts quite unknown.
If hate, like this, in human heart can dwell,
To persecute it with the pangs of hell:
If spurning moral and religious ties,
Which constitute, alone, what's good and wise;
Indiff'rent to all civil hopes and ends,
On which the happiness of earth depends:
Let its possessor drop each social boast,
And seek seclusion on sequester'd coast;
Where he may rave, and rail, without controul,
And vent each purpose of the savage soul:
With hourly terrors, and incessant toils,
Pursue uncertain, unassured spoils;
Trace every stream, and wander every wood,
To fish, and hunt, for raiment, fire, and food:
Houseless, each night, recline his aching head,
The sky his curtain, and the turf his bed:
Feel fears in woodlands, mountains, dell, and den,
From reptile, bird, and beast, and brother men:
Ever desiring, and yet ever miss,
All manly converse, and all female bliss.
To persecute it with the pangs of hell:
If spurning moral and religious ties,
Which constitute, alone, what's good and wise;
Indiff'rent to all civil hopes and ends,
On which the happiness of earth depends:
Let its possessor drop each social boast,
And seek seclusion on sequester'd coast;
Where he may rave, and rail, without controul,
And vent each purpose of the savage soul:
With hourly terrors, and incessant toils,
Pursue uncertain, unassured spoils;
Trace every stream, and wander every wood,
To fish, and hunt, for raiment, fire, and food:
Houseless, each night, recline his aching head,
The sky his curtain, and the turf his bed:
Feel fears in woodlands, mountains, dell, and den,
From reptile, bird, and beast, and brother men:
Ever desiring, and yet ever miss,
All manly converse, and all female bliss.
Or, rather ruminate o'er errors past,
The life of saints, and sinners, close contrast:
Compare their conduct's causes, issues, ends,
How this to transport, that to terror tends.
Then cease impure pursuits, in time retreat;
And prostrate fall before a Saviour's feet:
With strong contrition view each foul mistake;
Feel every fault, and every fault forsake;
Till Gods pure Spirit innocence restore,
Implanting pleasures never known before.
While Christ's atonement plucks out conscience' stings,
For perjuring people, persecuting Kings.
Ramble, no more, each social circle through,
And every petty imperfection view;
Display'd, at large, by pencil, speech, or pen,
To spleen or sport, perverting other men.
No more, indulging Ridicule, to roam,
And buffet foibles never flogg'd at home:
Each clown's comparison, or trope, to trace,
As emblem meet to etch a royal face:
Each monstrous metaphor, and figure, find,
As striking standards of a royal mind.
No more in close cabals, and juntos, seen,
Defacing images of King and Queen:
Nor shew in awkward attitudes and shapes,
Their beauteous branches cut and carv'd like apes.
No more to garrets climb, in cellars lurk,
With crucibles, and engines, all at work;
With felons and incendiaries combine,
To sweat, clip, counterfeit, the kingly coin:
But joining sacred thoughts with social things;
The hopes of Heav'n with prompt respect for Kings;
To Saviour, and to Caesar, just, and true,
Give God his glory, governors their due.
The life of saints, and sinners, close contrast:
Compare their conduct's causes, issues, ends,
How this to transport, that to terror tends.
Then cease impure pursuits, in time retreat;
And prostrate fall before a Saviour's feet:
With strong contrition view each foul mistake;
Feel every fault, and every fault forsake;
Till Gods pure Spirit innocence restore,
Implanting pleasures never known before.
While Christ's atonement plucks out conscience' stings,
For perjuring people, persecuting Kings.
Ramble, no more, each social circle through,
And every petty imperfection view;
Display'd, at large, by pencil, speech, or pen,
To spleen or sport, perverting other men.
No more, indulging Ridicule, to roam,
And buffet foibles never flogg'd at home:
Each clown's comparison, or trope, to trace,
As emblem meet to etch a royal face:
Each monstrous metaphor, and figure, find,
As striking standards of a royal mind.
No more in close cabals, and juntos, seen,
Defacing images of King and Queen:
Nor shew in awkward attitudes and shapes,
Their beauteous branches cut and carv'd like apes.
No more to garrets climb, in cellars lurk,
With crucibles, and engines, all at work;
With felons and incendiaries combine,
To sweat, clip, counterfeit, the kingly coin:
But joining sacred thoughts with social things;
The hopes of Heav'n with prompt respect for Kings;
To Saviour, and to Caesar, just, and true,
Give God his glory, governors their due.
All due subordination dates its birth,
From Heav'n's pure seraphs, down to dregs of earth:
Angels with angels keep the pious plan,
And all, resembling them, of man to man:
All but apostate spirits' banish'd throng,
And men, like them, confounding right and wrong.
From Heav'n's pure seraphs, down to dregs of earth:
Angels with angels keep the pious plan,
And all, resembling them, of man to man:
All but apostate spirits' banish'd throng,
And men, like them, confounding right and wrong.
All civil concord, fond affection, springs,
From Sovereign Pow'r supreme; Heaven's King of Kings!
And every honest human heart accords,
With Heaven's high attributes, to earthly lords:
So all tumultuous disaffections rise,
From him whose pride and folly lost the skies:
To every creature holding up a glass,
As all succeeding generations pass;
To prove proud seraphim, who dar'd rebel,
From highest happiness, to horror, fell.
From Sovereign Pow'r supreme; Heaven's King of Kings!
And every honest human heart accords,
With Heaven's high attributes, to earthly lords:
So all tumultuous disaffections rise,
From him whose pride and folly lost the skies:
To every creature holding up a glass,
As all succeeding generations pass;
To prove proud seraphim, who dar'd rebel,
From highest happiness, to horror, fell.
So may the holy Hebrew annals prove,
That People bless'd by Heaven's peculiar love,
When sin subverts, and disobedience bawls,
Sovereign and subject sink in slavish thralls.
Predicted, long before, in sacred writ;
Sure clue of conscience! Properest curb for wit!
But finish'd, fully, in a future age,
As pictur'd in Josephus' pious page;
When faction, and sedition, duty spurn'd;
All law, and all religion, overturn'd;
Domes, tow'rs, and temple, in one ruin hurl'd,
And vagrant tribes dispers'd o'er all the world.
That People bless'd by Heaven's peculiar love,
When sin subverts, and disobedience bawls,
Sovereign and subject sink in slavish thralls.
Predicted, long before, in sacred writ;
Sure clue of conscience! Properest curb for wit!
But finish'd, fully, in a future age,
As pictur'd in Josephus' pious page;
151
All law, and all religion, overturn'd;
Domes, tow'rs, and temple, in one ruin hurl'd,
And vagrant tribes dispers'd o'er all the world.
Did some proud tyrant o'er these realms preside,
Treading down thousands each gigantic stride;
Or petty monster, for base butchery born,
Lop off a vassal's head each bloody morn.
Spurr'd by ambition, urge his mad career,
Perverting all humanity holds dear.
Or flush'd with pomp, and pow'r's unstinted flights,
Soar o'er each peer's, and vassal's, legal rights.
To impish inquisition's vaults confin'd;
Deep lacerated limbs, and conscience, bind,
By rude arrest, all liberty to quell,
Condemn each subject to unsocial cell;
For unconvicted crimes, and unknown wrongs,
To shut each press, and bridle down their tongues.
Enforce fierce edicts to purloin their store,
By planting bayonets at every door.
With lust, lacivious, outstrip the brute,
Dear daughter's charms, or bridal bed, pollute.
Did such a despot wield the scorpion scourge,
Fulfilling fate, and future fetters forge;
Extend his will with arbitrary stretch,
To make each subject traitor, tool, or wretch:
Like Nimrod hunt, like Jehu drive along,
To trample down each fence of right and wrong:
Hurl endless thunders from his threatening throne,
To startle others' peace, and shake his own:
Then ought each sufferer sound the loud alarm,
To rouze each injur'd heart, and manly arm;
With piercing poniard, quivering quill, to fight,
To punish perfidy, and prove the right.
But neither beggar's brat, or purse-proud peer,
Dreads unjust judgment, or extortion, here:
Nor polish'd poet, or uncultur'd clown,
Need fear a Prince's force, or patron's frown.
Treading down thousands each gigantic stride;
Or petty monster, for base butchery born,
Lop off a vassal's head each bloody morn.
Spurr'd by ambition, urge his mad career,
Perverting all humanity holds dear.
Or flush'd with pomp, and pow'r's unstinted flights,
Soar o'er each peer's, and vassal's, legal rights.
To impish inquisition's vaults confin'd;
Deep lacerated limbs, and conscience, bind,
By rude arrest, all liberty to quell,
Condemn each subject to unsocial cell;
For unconvicted crimes, and unknown wrongs,
To shut each press, and bridle down their tongues.
Enforce fierce edicts to purloin their store,
By planting bayonets at every door.
With lust, lacivious, outstrip the brute,
Dear daughter's charms, or bridal bed, pollute.
Did such a despot wield the scorpion scourge,
Fulfilling fate, and future fetters forge;
Extend his will with arbitrary stretch,
To make each subject traitor, tool, or wretch:
Like Nimrod hunt, like Jehu drive along,
To trample down each fence of right and wrong:
Hurl endless thunders from his threatening throne,
To startle others' peace, and shake his own:
Then ought each sufferer sound the loud alarm,
To rouze each injur'd heart, and manly arm;
With piercing poniard, quivering quill, to fight,
To punish perfidy, and prove the right.
But neither beggar's brat, or purse-proud peer,
Dreads unjust judgment, or extortion, here:
Nor polish'd poet, or uncultur'd clown,
Need fear a Prince's force, or patron's frown.
Look round the world, with one distinct survey,
From east to west, from north to southern sea;
Each monarchy, and mix'd republic, view,
And estimate their merit, strict, and true;
On equal beam successive states suspend,
While England hangs upon the obverse end;
Her constitution, liberty, and laws,
And look which way the willing balance draws.
Specific worth, with truth's just touchstone, try,
Where earth's abounding dross, or bullion, lie;
Try which is least alloy'd with hellish leav'n,
And which resembles best the state of Heav'n.
Then try each chief with like unerring rule;
Not hook'd on steelyard scal'd by Ridicule;
But moral, pious, patriotic, test,
Which weighs the man, and marks the Monarch best;
Whose friendly, fatherly, connubial love,
Are purest portraits of the pow'rs above.
From east to west, from north to southern sea;
Each monarchy, and mix'd republic, view,
And estimate their merit, strict, and true;
On equal beam successive states suspend,
While England hangs upon the obverse end;
Her constitution, liberty, and laws,
And look which way the willing balance draws.
Specific worth, with truth's just touchstone, try,
Where earth's abounding dross, or bullion, lie;
Try which is least alloy'd with hellish leav'n,
And which resembles best the state of Heav'n.
Then try each chief with like unerring rule;
Not hook'd on steelyard scal'd by Ridicule;
But moral, pious, patriotic, test,
Which weighs the man, and marks the Monarch best;
Whose friendly, fatherly, connubial love,
Are purest portraits of the pow'rs above.
It is but poor employ for polish'd bards,
To shuffle, pack, and cut, the courtly cards,
Associated with all of lesser note,
Repeating words, and phrases, got by rote,
Mingling mock-majesty with knavish race,
Gypsey's gregarious groups, and beggary's ace;
To trick mankind, give fortune telling fame,
Prove miscreants, mobs, and monarchs much the same;
Huddle all orders, blend the great and small,
Mix mark'd antipathies, and level all.
To shuffle, pack, and cut, the courtly cards,
Associated with all of lesser note,
Repeating words, and phrases, got by rote,
Mingling mock-majesty with knavish race,
Gypsey's gregarious groups, and beggary's ace;
To trick mankind, give fortune telling fame,
Prove miscreants, mobs, and monarchs much the same;
Huddle all orders, blend the great and small,
Mix mark'd antipathies, and level all.
Shall sacred poesy, with reptile strain,
Pollute her heav'nly lyre, her lays prophane?
Impeach her parent, and debase her birth,
By monstrous malice, and by foul-mouth'd mirth?
Put basest office on the brightest muse,
To rake in kennels, and to stink in stews?
Make her with dolts and drabs, in concert, sit;
Lampoon, with literature, and wound, with wit?
Contaminated with infection rank,
Fit pimp, and patient, for quack mountebank?
Laugh with each lout; coquette with every clown;
Chaunting base ballads thro' each noisy town?
Accustom'd long to lust, and vulgar sneers;
Despis'd by prudence, and depress'd by years;
Still fond of fortune, fame, and frantic strife,
Become a mercenary shewman's wife,
A punchinello's mate, itinerant shrew for life.
Pollute her heav'nly lyre, her lays prophane?
Impeach her parent, and debase her birth,
By monstrous malice, and by foul-mouth'd mirth?
Put basest office on the brightest muse,
To rake in kennels, and to stink in stews?
Make her with dolts and drabs, in concert, sit;
Lampoon, with literature, and wound, with wit?
Contaminated with infection rank,
Fit pimp, and patient, for quack mountebank?
Laugh with each lout; coquette with every clown;
Chaunting base ballads thro' each noisy town?
Accustom'd long to lust, and vulgar sneers;
Despis'd by prudence, and depress'd by years;
Still fond of fortune, fame, and frantic strife,
Become a mercenary shewman's wife,
A punchinello's mate, itinerant shrew for life.
Ah! rather let the heaven-descended fair,
Resume her sky-born spirit's native air:
Quit all her squalid rags, and dark disguise,
Obscene associates, impious plots, despise;
No longer tuneful strains, obstreperous thrum,
To bagpipe's blast, or hurdy-gurdy's hum;
Or squall to cat-gut squeak, or cat-call scream,
The wisdom-wounding, folly-thrilling, theme.
No more sarcastic notes of scandal breathe,
Nor boast a transient thorn and thistle wreath;
The planter's breast, the wearer's brow to wound,
Nor plaudits pour'd by reprobates around.
Or sprigs perennial of spin'd butcher's-broom,
That yield no lustre, ope no beauteous bloom;
Fit scourge for flies, defence for putrid prey,
That stirs up swarms to buzz one summer's day.
But covet crowns, where amaranths combine,
With fadeless laurels, in eternal twine;
That give the bosom bliss, the temples ease;
And all the truly great, and good, must please.
Oh! join, ingenious maid! the classic choir,
New-string to merit fame's celestial lyre;
In moral measures peace's portion prove,
The worth of wisdom; the reward of love.
With wonted genius, wit, and learning, shew
How virtue reaps most harvests here below;
How, fledg'd by faith, pure piety ascends,
Where bliss ne'er intermits, nor being ends:
While truth's triumphant voice incessant sings,
What trust from law, and constitution, springs,
Earth's happiest people, and her best of Kings.
Resume her sky-born spirit's native air:
Quit all her squalid rags, and dark disguise,
Obscene associates, impious plots, despise;
152
To bagpipe's blast, or hurdy-gurdy's hum;
Or squall to cat-gut squeak, or cat-call scream,
The wisdom-wounding, folly-thrilling, theme.
No more sarcastic notes of scandal breathe,
Nor boast a transient thorn and thistle wreath;
The planter's breast, the wearer's brow to wound,
Nor plaudits pour'd by reprobates around.
Or sprigs perennial of spin'd butcher's-broom,
That yield no lustre, ope no beauteous bloom;
Fit scourge for flies, defence for putrid prey,
That stirs up swarms to buzz one summer's day.
But covet crowns, where amaranths combine,
With fadeless laurels, in eternal twine;
That give the bosom bliss, the temples ease;
And all the truly great, and good, must please.
Oh! join, ingenious maid! the classic choir,
New-string to merit fame's celestial lyre;
In moral measures peace's portion prove,
The worth of wisdom; the reward of love.
With wonted genius, wit, and learning, shew
How virtue reaps most harvests here below;
How, fledg'd by faith, pure piety ascends,
Where bliss ne'er intermits, nor being ends:
While truth's triumphant voice incessant sings,
What trust from law, and constitution, springs,
Earth's happiest people, and her best of Kings.
153
ELEGY ON A FAVOURITE CHILD WHO DIED OF THE SMALL-POX.
If ought, on earth, deserves the votive strain;
If angels ever listen and approve;
'Tis while a father's melting lays complain;
'Tis beauty, lost, and innocence, and love.
If angels ever listen and approve;
'Tis while a father's melting lays complain;
'Tis beauty, lost, and innocence, and love.
Nor will the parent of th' impassion'd soul,
Indignant frown to hear the swelling sigh;
Or blame the eye whose bubbling sorrows roll,
While, hopeless, viewing peerless treasures fly.
Indignant frown to hear the swelling sigh;
Or blame the eye whose bubbling sorrows roll,
While, hopeless, viewing peerless treasures fly.
Oh! she was all a parent prizes dear!
Was all that nature's workmanship can boast!
Blest with each charm that we call beauty, here;
And such her mind as Heaven values most!
Was all that nature's workmanship can boast!
Blest with each charm that we call beauty, here;
And such her mind as Heaven values most!
Tun'd by the hand of love, her gentle breast,
Struck soft responses to each tender sound;
Each harsher tone convulsive pangs imprest,
Choak'd her sweet voice; her eye, in sorrow, drown'd.
Struck soft responses to each tender sound;
Each harsher tone convulsive pangs imprest,
Choak'd her sweet voice; her eye, in sorrow, drown'd.
Heaven's azure arch was pictur'd in her eye;
Earth's fairest flow'rets drest her infant cheek;
Her hair like silvery curtains of the sky;
Soft music rapt the ear that heard her speak.
Earth's fairest flow'rets drest her infant cheek;
Her hair like silvery curtains of the sky;
Soft music rapt the ear that heard her speak.
I little thought that eye so soon must close!
Those budding flow'rs be blighted at their birth!
That warbling voice, so soon, its music lose!
Those silken ringlets deck the senseless earth!
Those budding flow'rs be blighted at their birth!
That warbling voice, so soon, its music lose!
Those silken ringlets deck the senseless earth!
But not the sweetest, not the fairest, flow'r,
Can smile assurance on the vernal plain!
No mortal beauty claim one certain hour,
Free from the fell attacks of grief and pain!
Can smile assurance on the vernal plain!
No mortal beauty claim one certain hour,
Free from the fell attacks of grief and pain!
Nor can the keenest wit, or strongest sense,
The mortal mansion, where they lodge, secure;
Or my blest babe had not been hurried hence,
Chill'd, by the damps of death, so immature!
The mortal mansion, where they lodge, secure;
Or my blest babe had not been hurried hence,
Chill'd, by the damps of death, so immature!
The flinty tyrant, wrapp'd in loathsome air,
Mix'd with her fragrant breath, in secret, stole;
Dar'd first her lovely form with filth impair,
Then, snatch'd away her pure seraphic soul!
Mix'd with her fragrant breath, in secret, stole;
Dar'd first her lovely form with filth impair,
Then, snatch'd away her pure seraphic soul!
With all his marks of malice chequer'd o'er,
Oh! had he deign'd her priceless life to spare!
The tarnish'd casket I should scarce deplore,
Did it but still contain the gem so rare!
Oh! had he deign'd her priceless life to spare!
The tarnish'd casket I should scarce deplore,
Did it but still contain the gem so rare!
154
Eager, again, I'd press my sleepless bed;
And count each toll that tells the steps of night;
Stretch my fond arm beneath her feeble head;
And watch her slumbers with sincere delight!
And count each toll that tells the steps of night;
Stretch my fond arm beneath her feeble head;
And watch her slumbers with sincere delight!
While balanc'd hope, and fear, suspended hung,
On every action of her speaking eye;
On every accent of her trembling tongue;
On every chearing smile, and chilling sigh.
On every action of her speaking eye;
On every accent of her trembling tongue;
On every chearing smile, and chilling sigh.
Feel every nimble pulse, and fluttering speed,
Its feverish impulse to my heart convey;
Each speechless tear make all my bosom bleed;
Each groan dissolve my very soul away!
Its feverish impulse to my heart convey;
Each speechless tear make all my bosom bleed;
Each groan dissolve my very soul away!
Still she'd be mine; and hope, still hovering near,
Would wing my wishes to the throne of God;
Solicit still, with ever-streaming tear,
With urgent plea to stop the final nod.
Would wing my wishes to the throne of God;
Solicit still, with ever-streaming tear,
With urgent plea to stop the final nod.
I little thought the Lord of all our bliss,
Would thus tear out the threads his pow'r had wove;
Would thus enjoin the parting, dying, kiss,
Thus hasten back the object of my love!
Would thus tear out the threads his pow'r had wove;
Would thus enjoin the parting, dying, kiss,
Thus hasten back the object of my love!
I thought his bounty meant the boon, so rare,,
My years of manhood, and of age, to bless!
To soften all my pains, and toils, and care,
With harmless prattle, and with soft caress!
My years of manhood, and of age, to bless!
To soften all my pains, and toils, and care,
With harmless prattle, and with soft caress!
I hop'd, again, to bend the hazle boughs,
To yield their clusters to her velvet hand,
To range, on grassy bent, the crimson rows,
Of ripen'd strawberries, at her mild command.
To yield their clusters to her velvet hand,
To range, on grassy bent, the crimson rows,
Of ripen'd strawberries, at her mild command.
The bramble-berry, now, may keep its bush;
The sloe may perish on its native thorn:
No more the field-flow'r at her lip shall blush;
Distend her lap, or fairer breast adorn!
The sloe may perish on its native thorn:
No more the field-flow'r at her lip shall blush;
Distend her lap, or fairer breast adorn!
Not half so sweet the morn, or even, song,
Of lark, or blackbird, now, salutes my ear:
The mimic strains of her enchanting tongue,
Could all their notes excel, or more endear!
Of lark, or blackbird, now, salutes my ear:
The mimic strains of her enchanting tongue,
Could all their notes excel, or more endear!
The lucid rill her footsteps us'd to trace,
In amorous dalliance, lingering, seem'd to move;
Impress'd with pictures of her lovely face,
Kissing each feature while it babbled love.
In amorous dalliance, lingering, seem'd to move;
Impress'd with pictures of her lovely face,
Kissing each feature while it babbled love.
In plaintive murmurs, now, it weeps along,
Veiling its visage with a sabler hue;
While the fond shrubs, that o'er her beauties hung,
Catch the sad breeze to sigh their last adieu.
Veiling its visage with a sabler hue;
While the fond shrubs, that o'er her beauties hung,
Catch the sad breeze to sigh their last adieu.
Her matchless image printed on my heart,
Recals the memory of each tender tie;
That every action, word, and look, impart,
Which gives a parent hope, or fear, or joy.
Recals the memory of each tender tie;
That every action, word, and look, impart,
Which gives a parent hope, or fear, or joy.
What hope! what fear! to watch each infant dream!
To aid the wrestling notions at their birth!
To mark each virtue shoot its dawning beam,
A light to lead the soul beyond the earth!
To aid the wrestling notions at their birth!
To mark each virtue shoot its dawning beam,
A light to lead the soul beyond the earth!
What joy to find the virgin memory stor'd
With precious precepts, taught by pious care;
While simple accents vend the heavenly hoard,
In lisping praises, or in simple pray'r.
With precious precepts, taught by pious care;
While simple accents vend the heavenly hoard,
In lisping praises, or in simple pray'r.
Her lustrous charms shall light my eyes no more,
No more her words their wond'rous pow'rs display;
No earthly beauty can that loss restore,
No earthly wit such secret joys convey.
No more her words their wond'rous pow'rs display;
No earthly beauty can that loss restore,
No earthly wit such secret joys convey.
But why repine? Why let self-love controul?
Disease no more can tear her tender frame,
Conflicting passions never vex her soul,
Or rank indulgence dye her cheek with shame.
Disease no more can tear her tender frame,
Conflicting passions never vex her soul,
Or rank indulgence dye her cheek with shame.
'Scap'd from the earth, and all its dangerous wiles,
From every empty hope, and vicious lust;
She's found an end of sorrows, cares, and toils:
—But—Oh, she's lodg'd with death, dissolv'd in dust!
From every empty hope, and vicious lust;
She's found an end of sorrows, cares, and toils:
—But—Oh, she's lodg'd with death, dissolv'd in dust!
Oh! that rebellious man, inflam'd with pride!
Who first infring'd the law his maker gave,
Felt th' inflicted penalty, and dy'd,
And doom'd my dearest to the greedy grave!
Who first infring'd the law his maker gave,
Felt th' inflicted penalty, and dy'd,
And doom'd my dearest to the greedy grave!
155
And I must travel soon the dreary road!
Soon mix my substance with my Martha's clay!
My Daphne, too, lodge in the same abode,
And all my offspring quit the chearful day!
Soon mix my substance with my Martha's clay!
My Daphne, too, lodge in the same abode,
And all my offspring quit the chearful day!
And shall we never from that prison fly?
Never again one fair idea know?
Still wrapp'd in darkness, and oblivion, lie?
Still o'er our heads the flow'rs and verdure grow?
Never again one fair idea know?
Still wrapp'd in darkness, and oblivion, lie?
Still o'er our heads the flow'rs and verdure grow?
No! He who rear'd the sapphire dome above,
Who scatter'd worlds thro' all unmeasur'd space,
Ordain'd each orb by stated laws to move,
Can quench, or kindle, all the wond'rous race.
Who scatter'd worlds thro' all unmeasur'd space,
Ordain'd each orb by stated laws to move,
Can quench, or kindle, all the wond'rous race.
Who moulded in his palm this ample globe,
And swaddled round the vivifying air;
Diffusing o'er its breast a watery robe;
And deck'd its face with vegetation fair:
And swaddled round the vivifying air;
Diffusing o'er its breast a watery robe;
And deck'd its face with vegetation fair:
Whose eye, at once surveying Heav'n and earth,
Pursuing, still, his everlasting plan;
Gave with his word each living creature birth,
And finish'd all, in love, with godlike man.
Pursuing, still, his everlasting plan;
Gave with his word each living creature birth,
And finish'd all, in love, with godlike man.
He, tenderest Parent! ever full of love!
In love completed what his love begun;
Conceiv'd glad tidings, on his throne, above,
And sent the message by his only Son:
In love completed what his love begun;
Conceiv'd glad tidings, on his throne, above,
And sent the message by his only Son:
Who, blest Immanuel! left the blissful sky,
To dwell with want, and woe, and insult, here;
To live for man, and—Oh, for man to die!
To buy the rebel, bliss, eternal, there!
To dwell with want, and woe, and insult, here;
To live for man, and—Oh, for man to die!
To buy the rebel, bliss, eternal, there!
While, to dispel each doubt that damps the mind,
To conquer death, and blunt his awful dart,
He burst the grave; left all his foes behind,
To shed assurance o'er the faithful heart.
To conquer death, and blunt his awful dart,
He burst the grave; left all his foes behind,
To shed assurance o'er the faithful heart.
By his blest pow'r doth her pure spirit live:
Soon shall her body quit the gloomy grave:
Oh! then, my Daphne, let's no longer grieve,
But trust him still whose grace and love will save.
Soon shall her body quit the gloomy grave:
Oh! then, my Daphne, let's no longer grieve,
But trust him still whose grace and love will save.
Still let our souls in hope, and faith, rejoice;
Urge on our steps the way our Saviour trod;
Spurn the dull earth; make heavenly views our choice;
And strive to live with Martha, and with God!
Urge on our steps the way our Saviour trod;
Spurn the dull earth; make heavenly views our choice;
And strive to live with Martha, and with God!
Rowley, 1779.
156
ELEGY Written in 1784, from the Country.
Tho' nature's charms my beating bosom owns—
Yet neither wood, nor walk, nor flower, so gay;
Nor lucid lake, nor velvet lawn, atones,
For weightier woes—my Daphne's far away!
Yet neither wood, nor walk, nor flower, so gay;
Nor lucid lake, nor velvet lawn, atones,
For weightier woes—my Daphne's far away!
Ah! what avails this soft, this senseless, train,
To heighten transport, or to calm distress?
They shew no sympathy when I complain—
When I exult their looks no joys confess!
To heighten transport, or to calm distress?
They shew no sympathy when I complain—
When I exult their looks no joys confess!
For while I praise the gently-waving bough,
Or stately stem that rivals all the grove,
No added smile appears—I hear no vow—
They feel no friendship—They repay no love!
Or stately stem that rivals all the grove,
No added smile appears—I hear no vow—
They feel no friendship—They repay no love!
Still deck'd with wanton airs, and gay attire,
In every suitor's eye, alike, they shine;
With open bosom fan each frail desire,
And meet each amorous touch as fond as mine!
In every suitor's eye, alike, they shine;
With open bosom fan each frail desire,
And meet each amorous touch as fond as mine!
But Daphne's soul, with sentimental glow,
Claims its full share of every smile and sigh:
With softest blandishment soothes every woe,
With sweet caresses doubles every joy!
Claims its full share of every smile and sigh:
With softest blandishment soothes every woe,
With sweet caresses doubles every joy!
Nor ought in breezy woods, or lawns, combin'd;
In smiling flow'r, or shrub, or limpid stream;
But on her balmy lip, or breast, I find,
Her damask cheek, or eyes clear azure beam.
In smiling flow'r, or shrub, or limpid stream;
But on her balmy lip, or breast, I find,
Her damask cheek, or eyes clear azure beam.
'Tis true the pow'r of time her charms must prove;
Her eye's mild shine, her cheek's rich tints decay:
But, as their morning glories wak'd my love,
My gratitude shall hymn their evening ray!
Her eye's mild shine, her cheek's rich tints decay:
But, as their morning glories wak'd my love,
My gratitude shall hymn their evening ray!
If from those eyes the lovely lustre's fled:
If on those cheeks the faded rose I see:
They lost their lustre watching round my bed,
And drown'd the rose in floods of tears for me!
If on those cheeks the faded rose I see:
They lost their lustre watching round my bed,
And drown'd the rose in floods of tears for me!
And shall I scorn her hand's diminish'd white?
That palm, so silky, once, now hard with toil?
No—still I press it with increas'd delight,
And pledge, again, each youthful vow the while!
That palm, so silky, once, now hard with toil?
No—still I press it with increas'd delight,
And pledge, again, each youthful vow the while!
Not half so fair, to me, are virgin forms,
As Daphne'e, now, by time so alter'd grown:
Pure transport, still, my kindling bosom warms,
While to my throbbing heart the cause is known.
As Daphne'e, now, by time so alter'd grown:
Pure transport, still, my kindling bosom warms,
While to my throbbing heart the cause is known.
Tho' time and chance should change her mortal frame,
Nor leave one single trait of youth behind;
My breast will feel its undiminish'd flame,
For time and chance can never change her mind.
Nor leave one single trait of youth behind;
My breast will feel its undiminish'd flame,
For time and chance can never change her mind.
Nor dread, my Daphne! Heaven's fix'd decree,
That none, above the skies, of marriage hear:
Tho' truth has spoke it, it concerns not thee,
—We never read of dire divorces there!
That none, above the skies, of marriage hear:
Tho' truth has spoke it, it concerns not thee,
—We never read of dire divorces there!
157
ODE TO THE LILY.
Oft has the Rose, vain idol of the town!
Blush'd in the front of pride, and deckt the clown,
Smil'd on the canvas, thro' the brumal glooms,
Preserv'd, in verse, thro' ages, all its blooms,
Bow'd in poetic breeze, and showr'd its fresh perfumes!
With boasted beauty crown'd the festal board;
And scented every wardrobe's gorgeous hoard.
The crimson'd Bacchanalian's boast;
And glowing garden's haughty toast;
The spangled sprig for broider'd beau;
Or pompous belle's bright furbelow.
With pride unbraids Apollo's glistening hair,
The sep'rate silken skains to wear;
Weaving, again, the glossy thread,
With feeble films to grace its gaudy head,
In flimsy, flaunting, folds, of meretricious red.
Its brightest bud's just-opening tips,
Are prank'd on every wanton's lips.
Its wide-expanded petals, spread so sleek,
Must tinge, with tenderest tints, each vulgar dowdy's cheek,
And spurns its fair compeer, its sister mild and meek!
Blush'd in the front of pride, and deckt the clown,
Smil'd on the canvas, thro' the brumal glooms,
Preserv'd, in verse, thro' ages, all its blooms,
Bow'd in poetic breeze, and showr'd its fresh perfumes!
With boasted beauty crown'd the festal board;
And scented every wardrobe's gorgeous hoard.
The crimson'd Bacchanalian's boast;
And glowing garden's haughty toast;
The spangled sprig for broider'd beau;
Or pompous belle's bright furbelow.
With pride unbraids Apollo's glistening hair,
The sep'rate silken skains to wear;
Weaving, again, the glossy thread,
With feeble films to grace its gaudy head,
In flimsy, flaunting, folds, of meretricious red.
Its brightest bud's just-opening tips,
Are prank'd on every wanton's lips.
Its wide-expanded petals, spread so sleek,
Must tinge, with tenderest tints, each vulgar dowdy's cheek,
And spurns its fair compeer, its sister mild and meek!
But thou, fair Lily! op'st thy lovely flow'rs,
To blow, retir'd, in calm sequester'd bow'rs.
Yet tho' thou shunn'st the breast, and eye,
Content, in shades, to live and die;
No more thy merit shall, unnotic'd, pine;
Thy silver bells shall round my temples twine,
And all thy parts, embalm'd, shall live in every line.
To blow, retir'd, in calm sequester'd bow'rs.
Yet tho' thou shunn'st the breast, and eye,
Content, in shades, to live and die;
No more thy merit shall, unnotic'd, pine;
Thy silver bells shall round my temples twine,
And all thy parts, embalm'd, shall live in every line.
Thou ne'er untwist'st the solar ray,
To make thy tintless tunic gay,
But, drest in Phœbus compound, bright
The copied beam of cloudless light:
The hue of holy virgin's vest,
The bridal garment, and the priest's divine,
And smiling nymphs' that tend the marriage shrine:
What ermin'd innocence, and love, like best,
And stedfast-ey'd sincerity is drest:
The velvet veil that zones the tender part,
Where all thy virtues hide, in Daphne's faithful heart.
To make thy tintless tunic gay,
But, drest in Phœbus compound, bright
The copied beam of cloudless light:
The hue of holy virgin's vest,
The bridal garment, and the priest's divine,
And smiling nymphs' that tend the marriage shrine:
What ermin'd innocence, and love, like best,
And stedfast-ey'd sincerity is drest:
The velvet veil that zones the tender part,
Where all thy virtues hide, in Daphne's faithful heart.
Tho' simplest charms thy face adorn,
Thou court'st a kiss that threats no thorn;
Yet when the rose inflicts a wound,
Thou mak'st the festering finger sound:
Thy leaf's soft swathe enwraps the part about,
To purge the rose's rankling poison out.
Thou court'st a kiss that threats no thorn;
Yet when the rose inflicts a wound,
Thou mak'st the festering finger sound:
Thy leaf's soft swathe enwraps the part about,
To purge the rose's rankling poison out.
Nor less than fine, fantastic rose,
Thy luscious scent salutes the nose;
But more, thy scaly bulbs conceal,
Like thy balsamic leaves, the pow'r to heal;
With ungents drawn by leech's learned art,
To cool the scorching pain, and still the scalding smart.
Thy luscious scent salutes the nose;
But more, thy scaly bulbs conceal,
Like thy balsamic leaves, the pow'r to heal;
With ungents drawn by leech's learned art,
To cool the scorching pain, and still the scalding smart.
Within thy beauteous bosom, stands
A charm no fluttering rose commands;
A spell that makes the scientific wise,
A standard full, and fair, to train botanic eyes:
Where each Linnæan amateur may see,
His favourite system symboliz'd in thee.
A charm no fluttering rose commands;
A spell that makes the scientific wise,
A standard full, and fair, to train botanic eyes:
Where each Linnæan amateur may see,
His favourite system symboliz'd in thee.
Thy harmless look shall henceforth meet regard,
Thy inborn virtues find their fix'd award:
Thy naked charms shall brave the test
Of ridicule, and prurient jest:
Not led, like Eve, thro' flatterer's false advice,
To droop, abash'd, with guilt, in paradise;
Nor join, by art, the web that nature weaves,
To shroud mistaken shame with superadded leaves.
Thy inborn virtues find their fix'd award:
Thy naked charms shall brave the test
Of ridicule, and prurient jest:
158
To droop, abash'd, with guilt, in paradise;
Nor join, by art, the web that nature weaves,
To shroud mistaken shame with superadded leaves.
Unlike the rose's ruffled wreath,
Held up by hidden bands beneath;
Thy fair corolla, fully blown,
Stands firm, like truth, with innate strength alone,
In dignity, and splendour, all its own.
Not spending, soon, a parent's dole,
Not staining, soon, thy spotless stole;
Nor, e'er the sun twice walks its unstarr'd tour,
A simpering, loose, coquette, that jilts no more;
Who, like the rose, soon blossoms, drops, and dies;
That, often, scarce survives its infant day,
The caterpillar's, snail's, and beetle's, frequent prey;
When ripe, how soon its subtle odour flies!
Soon, low, on earth, the wretched ruin lies;
To shock all feeling hearts, and shame all gentle eyes!
Held up by hidden bands beneath;
Thy fair corolla, fully blown,
Stands firm, like truth, with innate strength alone,
In dignity, and splendour, all its own.
Not spending, soon, a parent's dole,
Not staining, soon, thy spotless stole;
Nor, e'er the sun twice walks its unstarr'd tour,
A simpering, loose, coquette, that jilts no more;
Who, like the rose, soon blossoms, drops, and dies;
That, often, scarce survives its infant day,
The caterpillar's, snail's, and beetle's, frequent prey;
When ripe, how soon its subtle odour flies!
Soon, low, on earth, the wretched ruin lies;
To shock all feeling hearts, and shame all gentle eyes!
But thou, sweet Lily! modest matron, mild!
Matur'st, in matrix, many an embryo child;
Nor drop'st them at untimely date,
To combat fortune, chance, and fate;
But, clasping round them, long, thy fading charms,
Enfold'st them, fondly, in thy dying arms!
While short-liv'd roses aid the birth
Of vanity and pride;
Diffusing evanescent perfumes wide,
From recent blooms, and chymic drops,
O'er frippery flirts, and frothy fops,
Or transient troops of jollity and mirth:
Who, like the rose's coiffure, gay,
Giggle their flighty, frantic, hours away,
Devoid of wisdom's joys, from works of worth:
Or vicious pleasure's train,
Whose transports turn to pain,
Nor bring content's uncolour'd comforts forth;
But only mock the breast, and mad the brain:
Till time, and conscience, rude,
Unveil their nakedness and turpitude;
Their fears all arm'd, and hope for ever slain;
And peace, and strength, by Sin, and Death, subdu'd:
—All! all! alike, a fall'n, false, filial race of earth!
Lift up thy head, pure Lily! bare thy blameless breast;
Abash'd, ye roses! bow, and low'r your lofty crest!
No more presume to govern taste,
Nor narrow life, in contest, waste;
'Tis all in vain! the lot's decreed!
Tho' Lilies neither spin nor toil,
Like lowly Christians, unassuming, smile,
Erect, and tall, with much superior meed;
Yet weep, in heavenly dews, the while,
To see poor roses boast, and blush, and bend, and bleed!
—Nor ev'n in verse, profane, thy fame shall rest,
O Lily! lift thy head, by Heaven's high bounty blest!
Matur'st, in matrix, many an embryo child;
Nor drop'st them at untimely date,
To combat fortune, chance, and fate;
But, clasping round them, long, thy fading charms,
Enfold'st them, fondly, in thy dying arms!
While short-liv'd roses aid the birth
Of vanity and pride;
Diffusing evanescent perfumes wide,
From recent blooms, and chymic drops,
O'er frippery flirts, and frothy fops,
Or transient troops of jollity and mirth:
Who, like the rose's coiffure, gay,
Giggle their flighty, frantic, hours away,
Devoid of wisdom's joys, from works of worth:
Or vicious pleasure's train,
Whose transports turn to pain,
Nor bring content's uncolour'd comforts forth;
But only mock the breast, and mad the brain:
Till time, and conscience, rude,
Unveil their nakedness and turpitude;
Their fears all arm'd, and hope for ever slain;
And peace, and strength, by Sin, and Death, subdu'd:
—All! all! alike, a fall'n, false, filial race of earth!
Lift up thy head, pure Lily! bare thy blameless breast;
Abash'd, ye roses! bow, and low'r your lofty crest!
No more presume to govern taste,
Nor narrow life, in contest, waste;
'Tis all in vain! the lot's decreed!
Tho' Lilies neither spin nor toil,
Like lowly Christians, unassuming, smile,
Erect, and tall, with much superior meed;
Yet weep, in heavenly dews, the while,
To see poor roses boast, and blush, and bend, and bleed!
—Nor ev'n in verse, profane, thy fame shall rest,
O Lily! lift thy head, by Heaven's high bounty blest!
He who adorn'd the earth and all its grand attire,
Since recreant man dar'd disobedient prove,
To pledge his pardon, and allure his love,
Came down a perfect pattern to supply:
For thoughtless, thankless, man, to live and die!
To cleanse his heart with grace, divine,
And make his spirit, spotless, shine,
In perfect purity, like thine!
Since recreant man dar'd disobedient prove,
To pledge his pardon, and allure his love,
Came down a perfect pattern to supply:
For thoughtless, thankless, man, to live and die!
To cleanse his heart with grace, divine,
And make his spirit, spotless, shine,
In perfect purity, like thine!
He chose thee out from all the gifted train,
With which he paints the flow'r-embroider'd plain,
To prove that ev'n an eastern King,
Array'd in all the dextrous arts can bring,
Compar'd with thee, is held in scorn;
Lovely Lily! Heaven-born!
With which he paints the flow'r-embroider'd plain,
To prove that ev'n an eastern King,
Array'd in all the dextrous arts can bring,
Compar'd with thee, is held in scorn;
Lovely Lily! Heaven-born!
Still more, to make thy beauties bright,
He plac'd thy charms in pious light,
All rais'd, by virtue, to their utmost height!
By thee, meek emblem! anxious cares to chide;
And check the frail futility of pride:
To banish every slavish fear and lust,
And rear our hopes above the dust;
To wipe away each useless tear,
And point ambition to its proper sphere:
To lead our cares to objects more sublime,
Beyond the wrecks of change and wear of time;
Where thy transplanted blooms transcendent glow,
Enrobing raptur'd saints, in liveries of snow!
He plac'd thy charms in pious light,
All rais'd, by virtue, to their utmost height!
By thee, meek emblem! anxious cares to chide;
And check the frail futility of pride:
To banish every slavish fear and lust,
And rear our hopes above the dust;
To wipe away each useless tear,
And point ambition to its proper sphere:
To lead our cares to objects more sublime,
Beyond the wrecks of change and wear of time;
Where thy transplanted blooms transcendent glow,
Enrobing raptur'd saints, in liveries of snow!
159
A MORNING RHAPSODY.
Great Father! fount of good below!
In health I rise; in strength I go,
To view thy word's extensive birth,
Thro' ample space, o'er solid earth.
This light is thine; these vapours bland,
That skreen and fertilize the land;
And thine this vivifying air;
With all they feed; both good and fair!
Thy goodness gave the gracious dow'r;
By wisdom fram'd; and built by pow'r:
All, still confirm'd, and kept, by love,
That smile below, or shine above!
In health I rise; in strength I go,
To view thy word's extensive birth,
Thro' ample space, o'er solid earth.
This light is thine; these vapours bland,
That skreen and fertilize the land;
And thine this vivifying air;
With all they feed; both good and fair!
Thy goodness gave the gracious dow'r;
By wisdom fram'd; and built by pow'r:
All, still confirm'd, and kept, by love,
That smile below, or shine above!
While all these gifts my eye surveys,
My heart shall pledge my lips in praise;
Shall pour my soul in secret pray'r,
For me, and mine, thy constant care.
My heart shall pledge my lips in praise;
Shall pour my soul in secret pray'r,
For me, and mine, thy constant care.
But while I crave my fleshly food,
And every other carnal good;
Shall things I daily strive to earn,
The changing body's chief concern,
Engross, alone, my pious plan,
And quite absorb the real man?
Vouchsafe, great God! to grant my plea,
To feel my sins and wash'd away;
To fix that faith, and crown the whole,
Oh! let thy spirit purge my soul!
And every other carnal good;
Shall things I daily strive to earn,
The changing body's chief concern,
Engross, alone, my pious plan,
And quite absorb the real man?
Vouchsafe, great God! to grant my plea,
To feel my sins and wash'd away;
To fix that faith, and crown the whole,
Oh! let thy spirit purge my soul!
Thus chear'd by love, and led by grace,
Creation's wonderous works I'll trace;
Still viewing Thee each creature's friend,
Their guide, support, beginning, end!
Creation's wonderous works I'll trace;
Still viewing Thee each creature's friend,
Their guide, support, beginning, end!
While birds and beasts hail dawning day,
Let reason higher homage pay;
And while they hymn declining light,
My soul salute the Lord of night!
While flow'rs with fragrance fill the field,
My heart shall sweeter incense yield.
When every element's at strife,
I'll greet Thee, then, the Lord of life;
And when they all, in calm, accord,
Still bow before Death's sovereign Lord!
If soon, or late, I yield my breath,
In all the scenes of life, and death,
Whate'er of pain, or bliss, befal
I'll trust Thee, still, great God of all!
Let reason higher homage pay;
And while they hymn declining light,
My soul salute the Lord of night!
While flow'rs with fragrance fill the field,
My heart shall sweeter incense yield.
When every element's at strife,
I'll greet Thee, then, the Lord of life;
And when they all, in calm, accord,
Still bow before Death's sovereign Lord!
If soon, or late, I yield my breath,
In all the scenes of life, and death,
Whate'er of pain, or bliss, befal
I'll trust Thee, still, great God of all!
| The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |