 | Poetical remains (1872) |  |
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Odes.
ODE I. ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING, 1777.
Stern Winter not perpetual sounds
The alarm that calls his hosts to war.
Encircling blithe with frolic bounds
The Sun's ascending car,
Their tresses wreathed with budding flowers,
Again advance the rosy Hours,
That bade the timorous steps of Spring,
Yet coy, her bosom to display,
Tho' in fond dalliance round her way
Young Zephyr wave his wing.
The alarm that calls his hosts to war.
Encircling blithe with frolic bounds
The Sun's ascending car,
Their tresses wreathed with budding flowers,
Again advance the rosy Hours,
That bade the timorous steps of Spring,
Yet coy, her bosom to display,
Tho' in fond dalliance round her way
Young Zephyr wave his wing.
O wayward daughter of the West!
Whom, second from one parent source,
Fair Spring in Albion bore, comprest
By Winter's amorous force!
April! if dimly on thy face
The dawning smiles of Spring we trace.
Yet many a tear still rising drowns
In woe thine eyes of dewy light,
Nor seldom on thy brow, now bright,
Dark scowl thy father's frowns.
Whom, second from one parent source,
Fair Spring in Albion bore, comprest
By Winter's amorous force!
April! if dimly on thy face
The dawning smiles of Spring we trace.
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In woe thine eyes of dewy light,
Nor seldom on thy brow, now bright,
Dark scowl thy father's frowns.
And see, e'en now less powerful, stream
Thro' scattered clouds the solar fires,
Till faint and fainter every gleam
Now whelm'd in night expires.
Mute are the groves, save where in drops
The shower sounds stilly on the tops:
To heaven the patient heifers gaze;
While idly, on his staff upstayed,
The shepherd from yon hawthorn shade
The increasing storm surveys.
Thro' scattered clouds the solar fires,
Till faint and fainter every gleam
Now whelm'd in night expires.
Mute are the groves, save where in drops
The shower sounds stilly on the tops:
To heaven the patient heifers gaze;
While idly, on his staff upstayed,
The shepherd from yon hawthorn shade
The increasing storm surveys.
With him awhile my moral Muse
Shall feed her melancholy mind,
As wide the drear expanse she views,
Then sighs for human kind.
O Heir of misery! man! tho' fair,
Through the thin mists of childhood's care
Unvex't by every ruder blast,
Thy morning shine, the sickly sun
Of joy, ere half thy course be run,
Shall sorrow overcast!
Shall feed her melancholy mind,
As wide the drear expanse she views,
Then sighs for human kind.
O Heir of misery! man! tho' fair,
Through the thin mists of childhood's care
Unvex't by every ruder blast,
Thy morning shine, the sickly sun
Of joy, ere half thy course be run,
Shall sorrow overcast!
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But from yon oak, whose giant height,
Lonely before the embattled shades,
Towers in proud confidence of might,
What transports wake the glades!
The winds around his airy seat
Unbridled rush, and tempests beat,
The storm-bird there his song pursues:
Secure that rosy-bosom'd May
Shall soon bid gentler breezes play;
Soon shed more genial dews.
Lonely before the embattled shades,
Towers in proud confidence of might,
What transports wake the glades!
The winds around his airy seat
Unbridled rush, and tempests beat,
The storm-bird there his song pursues:
Secure that rosy-bosom'd May
Shall soon bid gentler breezes play;
Soon shed more genial dews.
Not stern affliction's lifted scourge
Can shake with fear the virtuous soul,
Tho' black she sees the sweeping surge
Of death around her roll.
Unmoved amid the storms of Fate
Virtue still holds her customed state;
Save that, as o'er her anchor bent,
Hope points to where the distant skies
Gleam opening, on her cheek arise
Meek smiles of calm content.
Can shake with fear the virtuous soul,
Tho' black she sees the sweeping surge
Of death around her roll.
Unmoved amid the storms of Fate
Virtue still holds her customed state;
Save that, as o'er her anchor bent,
Hope points to where the distant skies
Gleam opening, on her cheek arise
Meek smiles of calm content.
Cease then, my Lyre! thy partial woes:
Again bright breaking through his veil
The sun a purer radiance throws;
The groves his presence hail;
The heifers bound; and o'er the meads
His flock the whistling shepherd leads.
Whate'er of anguish mortals know
Heaven well permits; that so the breast
Of Joy, from Memory doubly blest,
With livelier sense may glow.
Again bright breaking through his veil
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The groves his presence hail;
The heifers bound; and o'er the meads
His flock the whistling shepherd leads.
Whate'er of anguish mortals know
Heaven well permits; that so the breast
Of Joy, from Memory doubly blest,
With livelier sense may glow.
ODE II.
[Why doubts thy foot, too timorous maid]
[_]
The metre of this ode is similar to that of the fourth, with this difference only, that this is of the kind, which, to borrow the language of ancient prosody, we may call Iambic; the other is Trochaic.
Why doubts thy foot, too timorous maid,
T'explore this shade?
To bowers, deep-bosom'd in the centre
Of this o'er-arching gloom from sight,
The paths invite
That here in devious labyrinths enter.
T'explore this shade?
To bowers, deep-bosom'd in the centre
Of this o'er-arching gloom from sight,
The paths invite
That here in devious labyrinths enter.
There freely fond caresses play,
While coy delay
Feigns from their search desire to cover;
And bold-eyed sports, and arch-eyed wiles,
Which mock the smiles
Ill-masked in mimic anger, hover:
While coy delay
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And bold-eyed sports, and arch-eyed wiles,
Which mock the smiles
Ill-masked in mimic anger, hover:
There pointing now, where blind and mute
The branches shoot,
Now beckoning laugh's secure occasion;
Thither if any curious rove,
The sounding grove
Gives early signal of the invasion:
The branches shoot,
Now beckoning laugh's secure occasion;
Thither if any curious rove,
The sounding grove
Gives early signal of the invasion:
There, when bright noon inflames the day,
The dubious ray
But half reveals, in dim illusion,
The rudely-rising breast, and cheek
Where blushes speak
Wild passion awed by soft confusion.
The dubious ray
But half reveals, in dim illusion,
The rudely-rising breast, and cheek
Where blushes speak
Wild passion awed by soft confusion.
And now still Evening holds again
Her sober reign,
Her dusky banners widely spreading;
And now serenely beams above
The star of Love,
Sweet influence thro' the silent shedding.
Her sober reign,
Her dusky banners widely spreading;
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The star of Love,
Sweet influence thro' the silent shedding.
Yes! Delia feels, O sacred hour,
Thy tender power;
Beneath the vaulted verdure lying;
Her eyes that with moist languor shine
She lifts to mine,
Then sinks upon my bosom sighing.
Thy tender power;
Beneath the vaulted verdure lying;
Her eyes that with moist languor shine
She lifts to mine,
Then sinks upon my bosom sighing.
Hence, Evening, oft my grateful muse
Thy name shall chuse
To grace her gently falling measures
But when thy bounty too, O Night,
Shall she requite
In songs more glowing, like thy pleasures?
Thy name shall chuse
To grace her gently falling measures
But when thy bounty too, O Night,
Shall she requite
In songs more glowing, like thy pleasures?
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ODE III.
[The sabler shades of night prevailing]
The sabler shades of night prevailing,
Ungenial fall the dews and chilly:
And now with hollow murmur wailing,
Now wildly shriek the blasts, and shrilly:
High then pile the flame and higher;
Wake to social joy the lyre;
And with cups to beauty crowned
Warm the loitering pulse to bound.
Ungenial fall the dews and chilly:
And now with hollow murmur wailing,
Now wildly shriek the blasts, and shrilly:
High then pile the flame and higher;
Wake to social joy the lyre;
And with cups to beauty crowned
Warm the loitering pulse to bound.
Wandering in lonely woe, the lover
Moans to the conscious moon his story,
Whose orb the driving clouds discover
In dreary gleams of sickly glory.
Me, where festal tapers shine,
Eloquence that glows with wine,
Eyes that speak, and looks that dare,
Me more please,—and more the fair.
Moans to the conscious moon his story,
Whose orb the driving clouds discover
In dreary gleams of sickly glory.
Me, where festal tapers shine,
Eloquence that glows with wine,
Eyes that speak, and looks that dare,
Me more please,—and more the fair.
Now gusty beats the shower descending,
Now drops in tears of sober sorrow,
Thus o'er our joys may storms impending
In various ruin rush ere morrow.
Let the morrow frown or lour,
Fate indulgent gives this hour.
Wise then, what ye may, secure:
Pleasures past alone are sure.
Now drops in tears of sober sorrow,
Thus o'er our joys may storms impending
In various ruin rush ere morrow.
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Fate indulgent gives this hour.
Wise then, what ye may, secure:
Pleasures past alone are sure.
ODE IV. INVOCATION OF THE ZEPHYRS.
Ye, before whose genial breath
Hovering Death,
Girt with troops of pale diseases,
Quits th'usurp'd domain of air;
Where, oh! where,
Linger ye, propitious breezes?
Hovering Death,
Girt with troops of pale diseases,
Quits th'usurp'd domain of air;
Where, oh! where,
Linger ye, propitious breezes?
Hither, where my languid maid
Wooes your aid,
Come, with balmy spirit blowing;
Gentle harbingers of Spring,
Hither bring
Health in rosy beauty glowing.
Wooes your aid,
Come, with balmy spirit blowing;
Gentle harbingers of Spring,
Hither bring
Health in rosy beauty glowing.
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Bright-eyed Joy to Youth allied
At her side,
While with giddy gesture after
Trip gay sport of wilder glance,
Jest, and Dance,
Dimpled Smiles, and sleek-browed Laughter.
At her side,
While with giddy gesture after
Trip gay sport of wilder glance,
Jest, and Dance,
Dimpled Smiles, and sleek-browed Laughter.
Joy-born Mirth shall lead the train,
Soon again
Her each sprightlier Love shall follow;
All who from the brow defy,
All who lie
In the dimple's treacherous hollow.
Soon again
Her each sprightlier Love shall follow;
All who from the brow defy,
All who lie
In the dimple's treacherous hollow.
So my song your praise shall tell;
So my shell
Pour to you the liquid measures;
Soft, as when your downy wings
Fan the strings,
Murmuring sweetly pensive pleasures.
So my shell
Pour to you the liquid measures;
Soft, as when your downy wings
Fan the strings,
Murmuring sweetly pensive pleasures.
Ah! no such reward ye seek
O'er that cheek,
Blushing if she meets my gazes;
O'er those beaming orbs of love,
Free to rove,
Little ye regard my praises.
O'er that cheek,
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O'er those beaming orbs of love,
Free to rove,
Little ye regard my praises.
Yet, if to my sober ear
Ever dear
Sound your voices, sadly sighing,
Where from lonely shades my grief
Courts relief,
To your airy woe replying:
Ever dear
Sound your voices, sadly sighing,
Where from lonely shades my grief
Courts relief,
To your airy woe replying:
As in fondly frolic-play,
Boldly gay,
Thus around her charms ye hover,
Oh! in whisper'd sighs reveal
What I feel,
What to you alone discover.
Boldly gay,
Thus around her charms ye hover,
Oh! in whisper'd sighs reveal
What I feel,
What to you alone discover.
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ODE V. TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER ATTAINING HER 21st YEAR.
The dawn, from whose auspicious light
Her flowing years my Laura numbers,
Now glows in ruddy beauty bright.
Awake, my lyre! thy debt to pay,
Prevent the day,
O sunk in long-inglorious slumbers!
Her flowing years my Laura numbers,
Now glows in ruddy beauty bright.
Awake, my lyre! thy debt to pay,
Prevent the day,
O sunk in long-inglorious slumbers!
So may the approaching maid be won
To smile, and emulate the morning;
For half-discovered now, the sun
Scatters around his jocund beams,
With golden gleams
Yon airy waving pines adorning.
To smile, and emulate the morning;
For half-discovered now, the sun
Scatters around his jocund beams,
With golden gleams
Yon airy waving pines adorning.
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But o'er his orb what shadowy grace
That amber-skirted cloud diffuses!
So let awhile thy lovelier face
The gloom of not unpleasing care,
O Laura! wear:
The moral wisdom of the muses.
That amber-skirted cloud diffuses!
So let awhile thy lovelier face
The gloom of not unpleasing care,
O Laura! wear:
The moral wisdom of the muses.
This hour demands. In flattering charms
Comes Liberty, by Love attended.
But yet alert with just alarms
Behold them in this anxious hour,
Where ends the power
That held thy doubtful choice suspended.
Comes Liberty, by Love attended.
But yet alert with just alarms
Behold them in this anxious hour,
Where ends the power
That held thy doubtful choice suspended.
Dangerous is Beauty! Her, while new,
We court with many a fond profession;
And self-deceived, may think them true.
Yet hope not, if no purer fire
Refine desire,
That love will grow beyond possession.
We court with many a fond profession;
And self-deceived, may think them true.
Yet hope not, if no purer fire
Refine desire,
That love will grow beyond possession.
In glittering hues, to dazzle youth,
Opinion paints the untried condition:
But Time shall sober into truth
Her gaudy coloring. He shall show
What specious woe
Heaven well denied to thy petition.
Opinion paints the untried condition:
But Time shall sober into truth
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What specious woe
Heaven well denied to thy petition.
Or, if sincere his faith remain,
Whom long, his country's call obeying,
Far distant climes from thee detain;
Time, when thy wanderer he hath tried,
To thee shall guide,
With joy, tho' late, thy grief o'erpaying.
Whom long, his country's call obeying,
Far distant climes from thee detain;
Time, when thy wanderer he hath tried,
To thee shall guide,
With joy, tho' late, thy grief o'erpaying.
Nor be the white-wing'd minute long!
Then, Laura, with glad zeal officious,
Again the matin lark my song
Shall join, to hail in livelier lay
The auspicious day,
Above this sacred light auspicious.
Then, Laura, with glad zeal officious,
Again the matin lark my song
Shall join, to hail in livelier lay
The auspicious day,
Above this sacred light auspicious.
ODE VI. TO A YOUNG LADY.
Why thus decline my troubled eyes?
Whither their mild lustre bending,
Those azure orbs to meet me rise?
Why thus, with thee conversing, dies
My voice in broken murmurs ending?
Whither their mild lustre bending,
Those azure orbs to meet me rise?
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My voice in broken murmurs ending?
Yet dawning from my looks distrest,
Yet wooing in the coy expression
Of faltering sounds, that, half supprest,
In sighs ill-stifled breathe the rest,
Read, ah! too dear, the fond confession.
Yet wooing in the coy expression
Of faltering sounds, that, half supprest,
In sighs ill-stifled breathe the rest,
Read, ah! too dear, the fond confession.
In vain!—What these soft tumults show
From thee yet new to love is hidden,
Untaught thy wishes yet to know,
If sighs ascend, if blushes glow,
What means the sigh, the blush unbidden?
From thee yet new to love is hidden,
Untaught thy wishes yet to know,
If sighs ascend, if blushes glow,
What means the sigh, the blush unbidden?
But hope not, ever thus secure,
To dart thy wildly wandering glances:
How fated soon in charms mature,
What others feel for thee, t'endure,
On hasty wing thy youth advances.
To dart thy wildly wandering glances:
How fated soon in charms mature,
What others feel for thee, t'endure,
On hasty wing thy youth advances.
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O skilled in every lovelier art,
That adds a polished grace to beauty!
Be mine the pleasing cares to impart
That best refine the gentle heart;
Be mine to teach the tender duty.
That adds a polished grace to beauty!
Be mine the pleasing cares to impart
That best refine the gentle heart;
Be mine to teach the tender duty.
ODE VII. To Fancy.
A PRIZE AT LADY MILLAR'S.
O thou whose empire unconfined
Rules all the busy realms of mind,
The slow-eyed cares thy mild dominion
Confess;—if thou thy rod extend,
No more the sharp-fanged sorrows rend,
While hovering round on frolic pinion
The laughing train of Joys descend.
Rules all the busy realms of mind,
The slow-eyed cares thy mild dominion
Confess;—if thou thy rod extend,
No more the sharp-fanged sorrows rend,
While hovering round on frolic pinion
The laughing train of Joys descend.
To soothe the woes of absent Love,
Come, Fancy, now what time above
The full-orb'd moon, that rose all glowing,
Begins her lifted lamp to pale;
What time, to charm the listening vale,
In liquid measures fondly flowing,
Laments the enamoured nightingale.
Come, Fancy, now what time above
The full-orb'd moon, that rose all glowing,
Begins her lifted lamp to pale;
What time, to charm the listening vale,
In liquid measures fondly flowing,
Laments the enamoured nightingale.
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In softly-pleasing light the Queen
Of heaven arrays the blue serene;
Yet lovelier beams the gentle glory
In Anna's azure eyes displayed.
Sweet is the Poet of the shade,
Yet sweeter than his warbled story.
Each sound from Anna's lips conveyed.
Of heaven arrays the blue serene;
Yet lovelier beams the gentle glory
In Anna's azure eyes displayed.
Sweet is the Poet of the shade,
Yet sweeter than his warbled story.
Each sound from Anna's lips conveyed.
Nor haply shall I ever find
That tongue to me alone unkind,
On every grief but mine so ready
To bid the balm of comfort flow;
Nor shall that eye, which every woe
But mine can melt, thus ever steady,
To me alone no pity shew.
That tongue to me alone unkind,
On every grief but mine so ready
To bid the balm of comfort flow;
Nor shall that eye, which every woe
But mine can melt, thus ever steady,
To me alone no pity shew.
Like mine, her bosom now can feel
The tender melancholy steal,
Tho' maiden modesty dissemble;
And now while memory brings again
The muse that first revealed my pain,
The involuntary tear may tremble,
And own the triumph of the strain.
The tender melancholy steal,
Tho' maiden modesty dissemble;
And now while memory brings again
The muse that first revealed my pain,
The involuntary tear may tremble,
And own the triumph of the strain.
So whispers Hope. By Fancy led
She comes. With rosy wreaths her head,
With rosy wreaths her sacred anchor,
Love intertwines in vain employ:
For lo! behind the exulting boy,
With stifled smiles of patient rancour,
Creeps Mockery, watchful to destroy.
She comes. With rosy wreaths her head,
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Love intertwines in vain employ:
For lo! behind the exulting boy,
With stifled smiles of patient rancour,
Creeps Mockery, watchful to destroy.
Ah! still, tho' whispered to deceive,
Thy flatteries, Hope, let me believe;
Content from grief one hour to borrow:
Ah! still, if round my distant way,
As thro' the path of life I stray,
Hang gathering clouds of future sorrow;
O Fancy! gild them with thy ray.
Thy flatteries, Hope, let me believe;
Content from grief one hour to borrow:
Ah! still, if round my distant way,
As thro' the path of life I stray,
Hang gathering clouds of future sorrow;
O Fancy! gild them with thy ray.
ODE VIII.
[Till graver years, O wisdom, stay!]
Till graver years, O wisdom, stay!
Awhile delay
Thy sober lessons: come not hither.
Too soon alas! each pleasure cloys;
Our budding joys
Let not thy frozen aspect wither.
Awhile delay
Thy sober lessons: come not hither.
Too soon alas! each pleasure cloys;
Our budding joys
Let not thy frozen aspect wither.
Now half a rebel to thy cause,
Thy sacred laws,
As too severe my heart accuses;
And now I chide the preaching sage
Whose cautious age
To Youth it's lawful joys refuses.
Thy sacred laws,
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And now I chide the preaching sage
Whose cautious age
To Youth it's lawful joys refuses.
No more, O Wisdom, haunt these plains,
Where Pleasure reigns;
But let me careless of the morrow,
Still linger in her flowery road
And sweet abode,
Unconscious of impending sorrow.
Where Pleasure reigns;
But let me careless of the morrow,
Still linger in her flowery road
And sweet abode,
Unconscious of impending sorrow.
Soon reason cries,—Mistaken youth,
This holy truth
In Fate's eternal law is written:
Ne'er shall the wreath of fair renown
His temples crown
Whom these fantastic joys have smitten.
This holy truth
In Fate's eternal law is written:
Ne'er shall the wreath of fair renown
His temples crown
Whom these fantastic joys have smitten.
His feeble mind shall ne'er explore
The sacred store
Of science, who, dissolved in pleasures,
With sluggish hand the page unrolls:
For nobler souls
Her bright reward the goddess treasures.
The sacred store
Of science, who, dissolved in pleasures,
With sluggish hand the page unrolls:
For nobler souls
Her bright reward the goddess treasures.
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Farewell the gay convivial scene!
And ye fair train,
With wanton smile my glances wooing;
O if I pass in silence by,
Nor meet the eye
That sweetly tempts me to my ruin,
And ye fair train,
With wanton smile my glances wooing;
O if I pass in silence by,
Nor meet the eye
That sweetly tempts me to my ruin,
Forgive the wrong: for many a throe
My heart will know
Ere I can calmly slight your favour;
And oft, averse to wisdom's laws,
Between her cause
And yours my treacherous heart shall waver.
My heart will know
Ere I can calmly slight your favour;
And oft, averse to wisdom's laws,
Between her cause
And yours my treacherous heart shall waver.
| Poetical remains (1872) | |