Poems on Several Occasions To which is added Gondibert and Birtha, A Tragedy. By William Thompson |
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| V. | THE THANKSGIVING.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
THE THANKSGIVING.
Book V.
Argument of the Fifth Book.
The Effects which the Restoration of Health ought to have in the Solitudes of Spring. Rural Prospect. Excursion to the Battle at Tournay. Reflections on the Abuses of modern Poetry. Hymn to the ever-blessed and glorious Trinity: 1st, to God the Father, as Creator and Preserver: 2dly, to God the Son, as Mediator and Redeemer: 3dly, to God the Holy Ghost, as Sanctyfier and Comforter. Conclusion.
From Spenser's Tomb, (with reverent Steps and slow
Oft-visited by me; certès, by all,
Touch'd by the Muse:) from Richmond's-green Retreats,
Where Nature's Bard the Seasons on his Page
Stole from the Year's rich Hand: or Welwyn Groves,
Where Young, the Friend of Virtue and of Man,
Sows with poetick Stars the Nightly Song,
To Phœbus dear as is own Day! and drowns
The Nightingale's Complaint in sadder Strains
And sweeter Elegance of Woe, O come!
(While every Breeze is flowing Balm) invite
To taste the fragrant Spirit of the Spring
Salubrious; from Mead or Hawthorn-hedge
Aromatiz'd, and pregnant with Delight
No less than Health. And what a Prospect round
Swells greenly-grateful on the cherish'd Eye!
A universal Blush! a Waste of Sweets!
How live the Flow'rs, and, as the Zephyrs blow,
Wave a soft Lustre on their Parent-sun,
And thank him with their Odours for his Beams;
Mild Image of himself! reflected fair,
By Faintness fair, and amiably mild!
With undulating Answer, soft or loud,
The mocking Semblance of the imag'd Voice,
Babling itinerant from Wood to Hill,
From Hill to Dale, and wake their Sisters round,
To multiply Delight upon the Ear.
The Magazines of Proteus forth, and builds
Huge Castles in the Air; while Vessels sail
Spacious, along the fluid Element;
And Dragons burn in Gold, with azure Stains
Speckled: Ten thousand inconsistent Shapes
Shift on the Eye, and through the Welkin roll.
Circling; and Temples, solemn, fill the Mind
With Beauty, Splendor, and religious Awe!
Peace o'er the Plains expands her snowy Wing,
Dove-ey'd; and buxom Plenty laughs around!
Along thy Borders, Scheld: (with William's Tears
Ennobled, Tears from brave Humanity
And Royal Pity drawn! nor of his Blood
Less prodigal!) Instead of herbag'd Plains,
Of Fields with golden Plenty waving wide,
Of lowing Vallies, and of fleecy Hills:
Destruction brandish; what a burnish'd Glare
Of Horror wanders round; what Carnage vile
Of dubitable Limbs; what groaning Piles
Of dying Warriors on th' ensanguin'd Earth
(Ev'n Sons of Britain, Chiefs of high Renown)
Grov'ling in Dust, and with unmartial Fires
Sheer blasted! O 'tis pitiful to Sight!
It smites the honest Brain and Heart! The Cloud,
Belch'd from the brazen Throat of War, wou'd hide,
Industrious, the Ruin which it spreads,
As if asham'd of Massacre—But hark!—
What dire Explosion tears th' embowel'd Sky,
And rumbles from th' infernal Caves? The Roar
Of Ætna's troubled Caverns, when she heaves
Trinacria from her marble Pillars, fix'd
On the Foundations of the solid Earth,
And Thetis' bellows from her distant Dens,
O'erwhelm the Ear!—A Mine with deadly Stores
Infuriate, burst; and a whole squadron'd Host
Whirl'd through the riven Air. A human Show'r
To cover Earth with Desolation drear!—
The triple Moloch! whose mechanic Brain,
Maliciously inventive, from its Forge,
Of cruel Steel, the sulphur Seeds of Wrath
Flash'd on the World, and taught us how to kill;
To hurl the blazing Ruin, to disgorge
From smoaking Brass the ragged Instruments
Of Fate, in Thunder, on the mangled Files
Of gallant Foes:—the Cowardice of Hell!
And, what the barb'rous Nations never knew,
(Tho' nourish'd by the Tigers, and their Tongues
Red with the Gore of Lions) to involve
The holy Temples, the religious Fanes,
To Hallelujahs sacred and to Peace,
With dreadless Fires. Shudd'ring the Angels weep
At Man's Impiety, and seek the Skies:
They weep! while Man, couragious in his Guilt,
Smiles at the Infant Writhing on his Spear;
With scanty Blood; and Virgins pray in Vain.
Blush, blush! or own Deucalion for thy Sire.
Of Erebus, uprear her Hydra-Form,
To poison, Liberty, thy Light divine;
If she, audacious, stalk in open Day,
And hiss against the Throne by Heav'n's own Hand
Establish'd, and Religion Heav'n-Reform'd,
Britannia! rescue Earth from such a Bane:
Exert thy ancient Spirit; urge thyself
Into the Bowels of the glowing War,
Sweep her from Day to multiply the Fiends,
And scare the Damn'd!—and Thou! the God of Hosts,
Supreme! the Lord of Lords, and King of Kings!
Thy People, thy Anointed with thy Shield
Cover and shade; unbare thy righteous Arm,
And save us in the Hollow of thy Hand!
Michaël send, as erst against the Host
Of Lucifer, and let his Sword be drunk
When Virtue, Liberty, Religion call:
Thine is the Victory: the Glory thine!
Of Violence and Waste: my swimming Eyes
Have lost the Beauties of the vernal View!
And yet Devotion wafts to nobler Themes,
And lifts the Soul to Heav'n! For who, untouch'd,
With mental Adoration, feeling Laud,
Beholds this living-vegetable Whole,
This universal Witness of a God!
Tho' silent, yet convincing, uncontroul'd,
Which meets the Sense, and triumphs in the Soul?
Let me, by Isaac's wise Example fir'd,
When Meditation led him through the Fields,
Sweetly in pious Musings lost, adore
My God! for Meditation is too poor,
Below the Sacrifice of Christian Hearts:
Far be it from me to speak with Disrespect of this Pagan Philosopher. For my Part, I could almost declare my Admiration of Plato's beautiful Descriptions, &c. in the Words of B. Johnson on Shakespear: “To justify (says he) my own candour, I honour his Memory (on this side Idolatry) as much as any.” See his Discoveries, Vol. II. Fol. of his Works. Pag. 98.
I only here wou'd observe how falsly, not to say impiously, some modern Writers seem to take pains to recommend Plato's Ideal Morality in Opposition to the glorious Doctrines so fully reveal'd in the Holy Scriptures.
Christians, from Meditation, soar to Pray'r.
Or rather Pagan: “Tho' ideal Sounds
Soft-wafted on the Zephyr's fancy'd Wing,
Steal tuneful Soothings on the easy Ear,
New from Ilissus' gilded Mists exhal'd;
Tho' gently o'er the Academic Groves,
The magic Echoes of unbodied Thoughts
Roll their light Billows through th' unwounded Air,
In mildest Undulations! yet a Priest,
Tasteless and peevish, with his Jargon shrill,
Scorns Academus; tho' its Flow'rs bestow
On Hybla Nectar, purer than her own,
From Plato's honey-dropping Tongue distill'd
In copious Streams, devolving o'er the Sense
Its sweet Regalement!” Philodemus,
Alluding to Q. Sectanus's admirable Satires; who introduces much such another Character under this Name. The true Author, as we are inform'd by Mons. Blainville in his curious Travels, is Mons. Sergardi, one of the finest and politest Gentlemen of Rome; by Philodemus, he means one Gravina, an atheistical Pretender to Philosophy, the Greek Language, &c. He thus makes him boast of himself, as if he drew the Principles of his System from Socrates.
Socraticâ cœpi tractandos mollitèr arte
Sordibus emergunt vulgi, totâque probantur
Urbe.
(Tho' learn'd Lycæum's Cloisters lead the Mind
Attentive on, as far as Nature leads:
And Plato, for a Heathen, nobler dreams
A Priest dares tell you, Salem's hallow'd Walks,
And that illumin'd Mountain, where a God,
The God of my Salvation, and I hope
Of thine, unutterable Beauty beam'd,
(Tho' shaded from Excess of Deity,
Too fierce for mortal-aking Eyes to prove
The Rush of Glory) me, desirous, draw
From Athen's Owls, to Jordan's mystic Dove.
Thou sing of Nature, and the moral Charms
Gild with thy painted Muse: My Fingers lift
The Lyre to God! Jehova! Eloim!
Truth is my Leader; only Fancy, thine:
(Sweet Farinelli of enervate Song!)
I quit the Myrtle, for a Starry Crown.
And know, if Sickness shed her bluish Plagues
From Fog, or Fen, or Town-infected Damps,
(And, sure I'd pity thee) among thy Veins:
Then, then no Platonist! thy inmost Soul
Will thank me for this Preaching; nor disdain
To breath itself in Pray'r, as low as mine;
Thus Glorifying with a Christian-Zeal.
And co-existing Spirit! Trinal-One!
Mysterious Deity; Invisible;
Indefinite, and Omnipresent God,
Inhabiting Eternity! Shall Dust,
Shall Ashes, dare presume to sing of Thee?
O for a David's Heart, and Tongue of Fire
To rival Angels in my Praise and Zeal!
Yet Love immense, and Gratitude, with Awe
Religious mix'd, shall elevate the Hymn,
My Heart enkindle, and inspire my Tongue.
But catches Inspiration! Thou the Earth
On Nothing hung, and balanc'd in the void
With a magnetic Force, and central Poise.
Ocean of Brightness Thou! Thy grand Behest
Flung on thy Orb, the Sun, a sparkling Drop,
With unexhausted Flame; to bid them shine
Eternal in their Courses, o'er the Blue
Which mantles Night, and woo us to repose
With roscid Radiance. They, harmonious roll,
In Majesty of Motion, solemn, loud,
The universal Hallelujah: Sphere,
In lucid Order, quiring sweet to Sphere,
Deep-felt and loftier than a Seraph's Song;
The Symphony of well-according Worlds!
But Man, thy Beam, thy Breath, thy Image, shines
The Crown, the Glory, and the Lord of All;
Of all below the Stars! a Plant, from Heav'n
Traduc'd, to spread the Riches of its Bloom
O'er Earth, and water'd with æthereal Dews;
Incorruptíble Aliment! The Birds
Warble among his Boughs; the Cattle, safe,
Pasture within his Shade; and Earth beneath
Th' imperial Umbrage of his Branches smiles.
The smiling Earth, the spangled Spheres, and Man
Their great Creator praise! but praise how long,
Preserver infinite? By Thee unless
Upheld, the Earth wou'd from her Basis reel;
The Spheres forego their Courses, (off their Orbs
The silver Softness melted into Shade)
Obscurely dissonant; and mortal Man
(Void of thy Fostering fires) his stately Form
To Dust be moulder'd: Chaos wou'd resume
Her ancient Anarchy; Confusion, rule;
And Darkness swallow All. In Thee we live,
In Thee we move: Our Beings in Thy Chain,
Linkt to Eternity, fasten on Thee,
The Pillar of our Souls! For me, (how late
A Neighbour of the Worm!) when I forget
The Wonders of thy Goodness ray'd on me,
And cease to celebrate, with Matin-Harp
Or Vesper-Song, thy Plenitude of Love,
And healing Mercy; may the nightly Pow'r,
Which whispers on my Slumbers, cease to breathe
Her modulating Impulse through my Soul;
Untun'd, unhallow'd! Discord, string my Lyre,
Rebellious to the Dictates of my Hand,
When indolent, to swell the Notes for Thee,
Father of Heav'n and Earth!—Coæval Son!
(His Word, His Essence, His Effulgence pure!)
Not less thy Filial Likeness I adore,
Nor from thy Father's Glory aught disjoin,
Redeemer! Mediator! from the Birth
Of uncreated Time, thy Father's Wrath
(Sprung from Omniscience!) to appease, for Man,
Upright as yet, to mediate, Mercy wak'd
Unbounded Love in Thee; unbounded Love
Contracted to the Measure of a Span
Immensity of Godhead, and thy Crown
Reft from thy faded Brow. Listen, O Earth!
And wonder, O ye Heav'ns! shall He, whose Feet
Are cloath'd with Stars, (the Glory of his Head
For who can tell?) whose Looks divine illume
The dazzel'd Eyes of Cherubs, and the Youth
Of Saints with everlasting Bloom renew:
Shall He, whose vital Smiles with Splendor fill
Th' Abodes of all Existence, from the Depths
Of Hell beneath, above Heav'n's highest Orb,
With Life, and Health, and Joy! shall He, to God
Dear as his Eye and Heart, engraven there
Deep from Eternity; alone Belov'd,
Alone Begotten! say, shall He become
A Man of Grief—for Man? nay more his Foe,
Rebellious next the Fiends?—Astonishment
Had chain'd my Tongue to silence, if the Pow'rs
Of tenderest Pity and of warmest Love
Provok'd not pensive Measures, sadder Strains
Of Elegiack-Sorrow, with the Theme
Mournfully varying. Take, my Soul redeem'd!
O take the moaning Dove's dew-dropping Wing,
Fly, fly to Solyma! and melt thy Woe
To Cedron's Murmurs. Thence, extend thy Flight
To Golgotha's accursed Tree. Behold!
Clouds roll'd on Clouds of Wrath (the blackest Wrath
Of an offended God!) His Beauties shade;
But shade not long: it soon in Drops dissolves,
As Pride of Summer-Flow'r to Sight or Smell!
Behind this shadowing Cloud, this mystic Gloom,
The Sharon Rose, dy'd in the Blood of Heav'n,
The Lilly of the Vally, white from Stain,
Bows the fair Head, in Loveliness declines,
And, sweetly languishing, it droops and dies.
But darkness veils the Sun: a Curtain draw
Before the Passion; beyond Wonder great,
Great beyond Silence!—(Awe-struck pause awhile—)
And heavy as the Burthen of our Sins!—
'Tis finish'd!—Change the Lyre, the Numbers change;
Let holy Anthem-Airs inspire the Hymn.
Glory in Heav'n! Redemption to Mankind,
And Peace on Earth! Dominion! Blessing! Praise!
Thanksgiving! Pow'r! Salvation to our God!
Salvation to our God, and to the Lamb!
And, co-existing Spirit! Thou, whose Breath
My Voice informs, shall it be mute to Thee,
Eternal Paraclete? in Order, last,
Equal in Glory to Omnipotence
Proceeding; (O inexplicable Name!)
Mystical Link of the unnumber'd Three!
To Learning, Night; to Faith, the noon-tide Day.
Soul of the Universe!
The Heathens frequently give the Appellation of Soul or Spirit to God.
Thus Virgil:
Lucentemque globum lunæ, Titania que astra
Spiritus intus agit.
That he means God by Spirit, appears from another Place.
Terrasque tractusque maris cœlumque profundum.
And Zeno's Opinion is very remarkable;
Θεος εστι πνευμα διηκον δι' ολου του κοσμου.See Lactantius, B. vii. c. 3. and Diogenes Laertius in the Life of Zeno.
The Rage compos'd of warring Elements,
(The Subject of a nobler future Song)
Yon all-surrounding Heav'ns with crystal Orbs
Garnish'd, and living Gems, in goodly Ranks
And disciplin'd Array; dividing Night
From Day, their Ordinances stablish'd sure.
Moving the Waters saw Thee o'er their Face,
O God, the Waters saw Thee, and affraid,
Into their Channels shrunk, (capacious Bed
Of liquid Element!) and own'd their Bounds
Impassable, as that eternal Gulph
'Twixt Bliss and Woe.—The Prince of Peace thy Beams
Largely imbib'd, when, Dovelike, o'er his Head,
Fast by the Banks of Jordan's sacred Stream,
And Abba glorify'd his Only Son,
Well-pleased.—From thy Tongues of cloven Fire
Kindled, the Nations burn'd in flaming Zeal,
And unextinguish'd Charity, dispers'd
And glowing as the Summer Blaze at Noon.
The rushing Winds, on all their Wings convey'd
Thy Doctrine, strong to shake the guilty Soul;
As, erst, the Dome, low-stooping to its Base,
Before thy mighty Presence
The very Heathens imagin'd a Commotion in Nature at the Presence of the Deity.
—Vibratus ab æthere fulgorCum sonitu venit, ruere omnia visa repentè.
Æneis, lib. 8.
And in another Place, Virgil:
Vix ea fatus eram, tremere omnia visa repentèLiminaque laurusque Dei, totusque moveri
Mons circum.
Æneis, lib. 3.
So likewise Statius:
Mirabar cur templa mihi tremuere Dianæ.Theb. lib. 4.
And Seneca:
—Imo mugit è fundo solum,Tonat dies serenus, ac totis domus
Ut fracta tectis crepuit.
Thyestes, Act. II.
Thou, from the Morning-Womb,
Psalm cx. 3. This is a noble Metaphor to express the Beauties and Graces of the Holy Spirit. So that “From the Womb of the Morning” in the Psalmist, signifies this: From the heavenly Light of the Gospel, which is the Wing or Beam whereby the Sun of Righteousness revealeth himself, and breaketh out upon the World, the People shall adorn themselves from the first Forming of Christ in them, with the Dews of Grace, and the Gifts and Emanations of the Holy Ghost: which are Love, Joy, Peace, Long-Suffering, Gentleness, Goodness, Faith, Meekness, Temperance. Gal. v, 22, &c. When the Spirit of Christ bloweth thus upon us, and the Dews of Grace are poured into our Hearts, then the Spices flow out, which arise from the holy Duties and spiritual Infusions, mention'd above.
Barren and dry, thy Sanctifying Dews,
Abroad, in silent Softness sheds: the Dews
Of Love unspotted, uncorrupted Joy;
Obedient Goodness, Temperance subdu'd;
Unshaken Faith, and Meekness without Guile.
Hence flow the Odours out, our Pray'rs perfume,
Like Incense, rising fragrant on the Throne,
From golden Vials pour'd, by Elder Hands!
Rev. v. 8. The four and twenty Elders fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them Harps and golden vials full of Odours, which are the Prayers of the Saints; that is, the Prayers of good Men are as grateful to God as Incense from the Tabernacle. So David, Ps. xiv, 2. Let my Prayer be directed to thee as Incense.
Extinct thy influential Radiance, Sin,
Incumbent on the Soul, as black as Hell,
Incens'd, sublim'd, and sanctify'd, the Soul
Invites the Holiest (O Abyss of Love!)
To chuse a Temple, purer than the Sun,
Incorruptíble, formed not by Hands,
Where best He loves to dwell.—Thou all my Bed,
Most holy Comforter! in Sickness smooth'd,
And Violet-Buds, and Roses, without Thorn,
Showr'd round the Couch. From Darkness and the Vale
Of shadowy Death, to Pastures fair, and Streams
Of Comfort, thy refreshing Right-Hand led
My wearied Soul, and bath'd in Health and Joy!
Beneath thy Olive-Boughs,
Alluding to the two Olive-Branches in Zecharia; ch. iv. ver. 11 and 12, which empty the golden Oil out of themselves. Amongst other Expositions of which Words, Junius and Tarnovius interpret them, to mean the various Gifts and Effusions of the Holy Spirit, which are, by Christ, deriv'd upon the Church. For Christ is called the Messiah, on Account of his being anointed with the Oil of Gladness; Ps. xiv, 8. And St. John speaketh thus of the Holy Ghost: Ye have an Unction from the Holy One; 1 John ii. 20. The anointing which ye received from him, abideth in you; John, c. ii. v. 27.
To Conclude; a Recovery from the Small-Pox a few Years ago, gave Occasion to the preceding Poem. I only at first (in Gratitude to the Great Physician of Souls and Bodies) designed to have published this Hymn to the Trinity upon a Recovery from Sickness. But the Subject being very extensive, and capable of admitting serious Reflections on the frail State of Humanity, I expatiated farther upon it. It cannot be suppos'd that I should treat upon Sickness in a medicinal, but only in a descriptive, a moral, and religious Manner: the Versification is varied accordingly: the descriptive Parts being more poetical; the moral, more plain; and the religious, for the most Part, drawn from the Holy Scriptures. I have just taken such Notice of the Progress of the Small-Pox, as may give the Reader some small Idea of it, without offending his Imagination. These few Notes are not intended for the learned Reader, but added, to assist those who may not be so well acquainted with the classical and other Allusions. I don't remember to have seen any other Poem on the same Subject to lead me on the Way, and therefore, it is to be hoped, the good-natur'd Reader will more readily excuse its Blemishes.
I have here added, by Way of Conclusion to the Notes, a short Hymn written (when very Young) in the great Epidemical Cold in 1732.
I
O Lord! to Thee I lift my Soul,To Thee direct my Eyes,
While Fate in every Vapour rolls,
And sick'ning Nature sighs.
II
Ev'n Air, the Vehicle of Life,The soft Recess of Breath,
Is made the Harbinger of Fate,
And poison'd Dart of Death.
III
No gentle Strains relieve my Ears:But hark! the Passing-Toll,
In a long, sadly-solemn Knell,
Alarms anew my Soul.
IV
No lovely Prospect meets my Eye,But melancholy Fear,
Attended with the hollow Pomp
Of Sickness and Despair.
V
My Sins wide-staring in my FaceIn ghastly Guise alarm;
The pleasing Sins of wanton Youth,
In many a fatal Charm.
VI
I sink beneath their black Approach:My GOD! thy Mercy lend;
Let Hope her healing Wings diffuse;
O snatch me from the Fiend!
VII
I feel, I feel Thy saving Health:New Raptures fill my Heart:
A shining Train of Bliss succeeds;
The gloomy Scenes depart.
VIII
Tho' straining Coughs this mortal FrameTo Dissolution bring,
Yet dreary Death in vain affrights
And points in vain his Sting:
IX
If gracious Heaven at that sad HourIts guardian Arm extend;
If Angels watch my parting Soul,
And save me at my End.
X
O Lord, or let me live or die,Thy Holy Will be done!
But let me live alone to Thee,
And die in Thee alone.
The Golden Oil effusing on my Head
Of Gladness, let me ever sit and sing,
Thy numerous Godhead sparkling in my Soul,
Thyself instilling Praises, by thy Ear
Not unapprov'd! For Wisdom's steady Ray,
Of Poesy are Thine; United Three!
Father of Heav'n and Earth! Coæval Son!
And co-existing Spirit! Trinal One!
| Poems on Several Occasions | |