 | Poetical remains (1872) |  |
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The Poetical Triumvirate.
O lyre divine, harmonious frame!
To whom shall I attune thy string?
What god, or god-like son of fame,
What hero shall I sing?
Hence, ruthless tyrants, nor accuse
The scornful silence of the Muse.
Hence, ye destroyers of mankind,
Who bade the blood-stained throat of war to roar,
In vain your murd'rous swords the world have thinn'd.
The Muse's pinions shall not blush with gore;
The Muse her sons shall sing, the boast of Albion's shore.
To whom shall I attune thy string?
What god, or god-like son of fame,
What hero shall I sing?
Hence, ruthless tyrants, nor accuse
The scornful silence of the Muse.
Hence, ye destroyers of mankind,
Who bade the blood-stained throat of war to roar,
In vain your murd'rous swords the world have thinn'd.
The Muse's pinions shall not blush with gore;
The Muse her sons shall sing, the boast of Albion's shore.
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Avon exult! for thou didst hear
Immortal Shakespear's voice divine;
What time he stayed thy waters near,
Communing with the Nine.
Shakespear, of more than magic skill,
With horror every breast can thrill:
The night owl shrieks! I see Macbeth!
Aghast with wild affright his fix'd eyes stare,
His sheathèd dagger reeks from Duncan's death,
While guilty fear erects each conscious hair,
And hasty faltering words his breast confused declare.
Immortal Shakespear's voice divine;
What time he stayed thy waters near,
Communing with the Nine.
Shakespear, of more than magic skill,
With horror every breast can thrill:
The night owl shrieks! I see Macbeth!
Aghast with wild affright his fix'd eyes stare,
His sheathèd dagger reeks from Duncan's death,
While guilty fear erects each conscious hair,
And hasty faltering words his breast confused declare.
Thou monarch of the soul! my bosom owns thy reign,
I sigh, I glow, obedient to thy strain.
When, by his children spurned, Lear's sorrows flow,
We feel the pleasing sympathy of woe.
Ah, dearest Regan! wilt thou too conspire
To drive to madness a fond helpless sire!
But when with rage the monarch glows,
Forgetful of his woes,
Revenge each panting bosom warms.
In such a cause who dreads the clash of arms?
I sigh, I glow, obedient to thy strain.
When, by his children spurned, Lear's sorrows flow,
We feel the pleasing sympathy of woe.
Ah, dearest Regan! wilt thou too conspire
To drive to madness a fond helpless sire!
But when with rage the monarch glows,
Forgetful of his woes,
Revenge each panting bosom warms.
In such a cause who dreads the clash of arms?
Shakespear! 'tis thine to look around
From some high cliff, untouched with fear,
Tho' constant thunders rock the ground
And lightnings fire the air;
Tho' the loud howling whirlwinds sweep
The surface of the raging deep.
But by the side of Mulla's stream
Far calmer joys would gentle Spenser seek;
There oft, when hapless damsel was his theme,
His heaving breast was touched with pity meek,
And softly stole the tear adown his sorrowing cheek.
From some high cliff, untouched with fear,
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And lightnings fire the air;
Tho' the loud howling whirlwinds sweep
The surface of the raging deep.
But by the side of Mulla's stream
Far calmer joys would gentle Spenser seek;
There oft, when hapless damsel was his theme,
His heaving breast was touched with pity meek,
And softly stole the tear adown his sorrowing cheek.
Oft would he sing of warlike fays
Encountering fierce with Paynim knight.
Ah me! that in fair Virtue's ways
Such dangers men must fight.
Oft would he sing of princely maid
By Archimago vile betrayed.
False traitor! how couldst thou ensnare
And make such virtue and such truth thy prey?
Yet deem not heaven withdraws its guardian care;
His conquering shield brave Arthur shall display,—
That shield which Virtue gives to every godlike fay.
Encountering fierce with Paynim knight.
Ah me! that in fair Virtue's ways
Such dangers men must fight.
Oft would he sing of princely maid
By Archimago vile betrayed.
False traitor! how couldst thou ensnare
And make such virtue and such truth thy prey?
Yet deem not heaven withdraws its guardian care;
His conquering shield brave Arthur shall display,—
That shield which Virtue gives to every godlike fay.
Away, ye fairy songs! The harp of Zion bring,
To Milton's praise I strike the sounding string.
Milton like some high towering eagle flies,
And soars unwearied to his native skies.
Milton! 'twas thine to view with stedfast gaze
The throne that pours intolerable rays.
To thee the angel Michael came
And touched thee with the holy flame.
Straight with new rapture burned thy breast,
And all thy strains th'inspiring god confest.
To Milton's praise I strike the sounding string.
Milton like some high towering eagle flies,
And soars unwearied to his native skies.
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The throne that pours intolerable rays.
To thee the angel Michael came
And touched thee with the holy flame.
Straight with new rapture burned thy breast,
And all thy strains th'inspiring god confest.
Then bright in adamantine arms,
Bold Satan durst defy his God,
While all heaven shook with war's alarms:
With fury Michael glowed,
Like lightning blazed his angry steel,
On Satan's crest the tempest fell.
Great Cherubim, I see thee now!
High on the wings of winds I see thee ride,
Pointing destruction at the trembling foe;
I see thee in thy rage confound their pride,
And with uprooted hills their horrid engines hide.
Bold Satan durst defy his God,
While all heaven shook with war's alarms:
With fury Michael glowed,
Like lightning blazed his angry steel,
On Satan's crest the tempest fell.
Great Cherubim, I see thee now!
High on the wings of winds I see thee ride,
Pointing destruction at the trembling foe;
I see thee in thy rage confound their pride,
And with uprooted hills their horrid engines hide.
Lo! like the raging torrents roar,
The living chariot shakes the sky,
Resistless whirlwinds howl before,
And angry lightnings fly.
Stern frowned Messiah from His car,
And withered all the strength of war.
Not so His frowns, when from above
Serene He comes to judge the guilty pair:
His looks breathe justice softening into love,
Afraid to drive the wretched to despair.
His presence Adam fled, for then he first knew fear.
The living chariot shakes the sky,
Resistless whirlwinds howl before,
And angry lightnings fly.
Stern frowned Messiah from His car,
And withered all the strength of war.
Not so His frowns, when from above
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His looks breathe justice softening into love,
Afraid to drive the wretched to despair.
His presence Adam fled, for then he first knew fear.
| Poetical remains (1872) | |