 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
30
ODE ON BEAUTY.
Far from the noise of Life retir'd,
Amyntas lov'd the rural Plain,
Fair Nature in her simple Charms admir'd,
And felt a Lover's bliss, without his Pain;
While Beauty's Parent gilt the rosy Morn,
Play'd on the Stream, or purple-beaming Flower;
And while refracted Rays adorn
The Bow that speaks th' approaching shower;
The purest pleasures fill'd the shepherd's heart;
The force of Beauty, undisguis'd by Art.
Thrice happy Youth! like him I strove
In Fields to find an easy breast,
Sought the clear Stream, the rosy-blossom'd Grove,
And view'd the paintings of Aurora's Vest.
Ah vain resource! the pleasing hope how vain!
Tho' seated in this sweetly-blooming shade;
The cruel Darts of forceful Pain
My lov'd Retirement still invade:
The truant Thought to distant Objects strays,
And leaves these Eyes in an unmeaning gaze.
Amyntas lov'd the rural Plain,
Fair Nature in her simple Charms admir'd,
And felt a Lover's bliss, without his Pain;
While Beauty's Parent gilt the rosy Morn,
Play'd on the Stream, or purple-beaming Flower;
And while refracted Rays adorn
The Bow that speaks th' approaching shower;
The purest pleasures fill'd the shepherd's heart;
The force of Beauty, undisguis'd by Art.
31
In Fields to find an easy breast,
Sought the clear Stream, the rosy-blossom'd Grove,
And view'd the paintings of Aurora's Vest.
Ah vain resource! the pleasing hope how vain!
Tho' seated in this sweetly-blooming shade;
The cruel Darts of forceful Pain
My lov'd Retirement still invade:
The truant Thought to distant Objects strays,
And leaves these Eyes in an unmeaning gaze.
'Tis not in Flora's rosy Smile,
Nor Phoebus! thine, tho' great thy charms,
The Lover's Pain a moment to beguile,
When Fancy leads to Delia's absent arms.
Ah where is now the Look divinely fair,
Those Eyes that speak a Language not unknown,
Where now the sweetly-winning air,
That Beauty's all-encircling zone?
The long-lov'd Image in my breast I bear,
For ever absent, yet for ever there!
Nor Phoebus! thine, tho' great thy charms,
The Lover's Pain a moment to beguile,
When Fancy leads to Delia's absent arms.
Ah where is now the Look divinely fair,
Those Eyes that speak a Language not unknown,
32
That Beauty's all-encircling zone?
The long-lov'd Image in my breast I bear,
For ever absent, yet for ever there!
Not in Lavinia's lofty mien,
Nor Floribella's blooming Face,
Not in the soft Dulcissa's look serene,
Nor, sweet Amanda! in thy easy Grace;
Not in the vermil Cheek, nor soften'd Air,
Nor Features just, my Delia's form I find;
In whom, with nicely judging Care,
Has Beauty all her Charms combin'd;
Form'd in Perfection's heav'n-wrought Robe to shine,
As Venus fair, as Hamilton Divine!
Nor Floribella's blooming Face,
Not in the soft Dulcissa's look serene,
Nor, sweet Amanda! in thy easy Grace;
Not in the vermil Cheek, nor soften'd Air,
Nor Features just, my Delia's form I find;
In whom, with nicely judging Care,
Has Beauty all her Charms combin'd;
Form'd in Perfection's heav'n-wrought Robe to shine,
As Venus fair, as Hamilton Divine!
What art thou, Beauty! whence thy Pow'r,
That thus persuasive charms the Heart,
When thy fair Hand adorns the roseate Bow'r,
Or blooming Virgin, pride of all thy art?
Oft as thy Lines in fair Proportion flow,
And mingled Beauties in one piece unite,
If Howard's hand the Grace bestow,
The Lifeless Picture gives Delight.
Oft have thy Charms with added Lustre shone
On Kneller's Canvas and Palladio's Stone.
That thus persuasive charms the Heart,
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Or blooming Virgin, pride of all thy art?
Oft as thy Lines in fair Proportion flow,
And mingled Beauties in one piece unite,
If Howard's hand the Grace bestow,
The Lifeless Picture gives Delight.
Oft have thy Charms with added Lustre shone
On Kneller's Canvas and Palladio's Stone.
Let him whose tow'ring Thought can trace
Creation's well conducted Plan,
Let Newton, Pupil of the Gods! confess
Thy hand in various Nature, as in Man.
Cou'd swift-ey'd fancy pierce yon ambient skies,
To him who dwells in perfect Beauty fair,
What Transports in the Soul would rise,
To view Thee thron'd in Glory there!
But humbler Scenes the human Eye requires,
In these enjoys Thee, and in those admires.
Creation's well conducted Plan,
Let Newton, Pupil of the Gods! confess
Thy hand in various Nature, as in Man.
Cou'd swift-ey'd fancy pierce yon ambient skies,
To him who dwells in perfect Beauty fair,
What Transports in the Soul would rise,
To view Thee thron'd in Glory there!
But humbler Scenes the human Eye requires,
In these enjoys Thee, and in those admires.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |