 | Paulina |  |
29
BOOK II.
Ye British fair who tread the blissful plains,
Where Virtue triumphs, and where freedom reigns,
Who oft at eve the Thames' green banks along
Wander to hear the Attic warbler's song,
Or see the pale-cheek'd moon expand her beam,
And bathe her silv'ry curls amid the stream,
List the blithe milkmaid's sweetly carrol'd tale,
That charms the plodding plowman of the vale:
Yes, ye who pass in social joys the day,
Careless and jocund as the roving May,
When first she blushes on the varied scene,
And decks with pearly brede her mantle green,
Who scorn each hidden vice, each low disguise,
Lovely as light, and open as the skies!
Deem not amiss that Russia's hapless maid,
By pity soften'd, and by passion sway'd,
Shelter'd the gen'rous youth she most ador'd,
When rush'd the fire-bolt, and the tempest roar'd.
And O reflect that unsuspecting love,
Can narrow prudence from the mind remove,
With flow'ry wreath obscure the virgin's eyes,
And mock the tenets of the grave and wise.
Where Virtue triumphs, and where freedom reigns,
Who oft at eve the Thames' green banks along
Wander to hear the Attic warbler's song,
Or see the pale-cheek'd moon expand her beam,
And bathe her silv'ry curls amid the stream,
List the blithe milkmaid's sweetly carrol'd tale,
That charms the plodding plowman of the vale:
Yes, ye who pass in social joys the day,
Careless and jocund as the roving May,
30
And decks with pearly brede her mantle green,
Who scorn each hidden vice, each low disguise,
Lovely as light, and open as the skies!
Deem not amiss that Russia's hapless maid,
By pity soften'd, and by passion sway'd,
Shelter'd the gen'rous youth she most ador'd,
When rush'd the fire-bolt, and the tempest roar'd.
And O reflect that unsuspecting love,
Can narrow prudence from the mind remove,
With flow'ry wreath obscure the virgin's eyes,
And mock the tenets of the grave and wise.
Ye too, fond youths! whose raptur'd souls have prov'd
The unresisted pleasure to be lov'd,
Th' exalting madness of the joys that flow
When closing eyelids point the breast of snow,
When on the cheek, abash'd with praises, glows
The downy crimson of the infant rose,
Have seen the dark eye shoot the vivid dart,
That sinks oppressive in the forceless heart,
The even teeth with lust'rous iv'ry grace
The moist cornelians of their living case,
The glossy texture of the copious hair,
And all th' extatic beauties of the fair:
Ye for Paulina's griefs shall sigh sincere
And drop with me an unavailing tear.
The unresisted pleasure to be lov'd,
Th' exalting madness of the joys that flow
When closing eyelids point the breast of snow,
When on the cheek, abash'd with praises, glows
The downy crimson of the infant rose,
31
That sinks oppressive in the forceless heart,
The even teeth with lust'rous iv'ry grace
The moist cornelians of their living case,
The glossy texture of the copious hair,
And all th' extatic beauties of the fair:
Ye for Paulina's griefs shall sigh sincere
And drop with me an unavailing tear.
Now the soft moments roseate love beguiles,
While warm affection wakes her winning smiles,
Alexis tells of dang'rous scenes of war,
When carnage stalk'd on Turkey's plains afar;
Yet no vain vaunt his genuine tongue can raise,
No modest seeming of self-giving praise,
But truth and valour's noblest pride imparts,
The scorn of fiction, and the boaster's arts.
The maid describes each agonizing care,
Of hopeless passion, parent of despair.
The rude emotions of her father's rage,
That tears can neither alter, nor assuage.
While warm affection wakes her winning smiles,
Alexis tells of dang'rous scenes of war,
When carnage stalk'd on Turkey's plains afar;
Yet no vain vaunt his genuine tongue can raise,
No modest seeming of self-giving praise,
But truth and valour's noblest pride imparts,
The scorn of fiction, and the boaster's arts.
The maid describes each agonizing care,
Of hopeless passion, parent of despair.
32
That tears can neither alter, nor assuage.
As thus she speaks, oft flows the silent show'r
In sad remembrance of each painful hour,
But soon her lov'd Alexis' soothing voice
Chased the dull woe, and bade her heart rejoice;
Slow-rising hopes her humid cheeks adorn,
Like sun-beams glittering thro' a vap'rous morn.
But O what horror seiz'd her quiv'ring heart,
What unprov'd anguish of distressful smart,
When on the steps that to her chamber lead,
She starting listens to her father's tread;
With out-stretch'd arm, and terror-rolling eye,
Perceives his steady pace still winding nigh,
And destitute of ev'ry wish'd relief,
She stands a marble monument of grief;
Mean time Alexis' more attentive care,
Observ'd a chest that time was mould'ring there,
Within the stifling void his limbs he threw,
And ere it clos'd sigh'd forth one deep adieu.
In sad remembrance of each painful hour,
But soon her lov'd Alexis' soothing voice
Chased the dull woe, and bade her heart rejoice;
Slow-rising hopes her humid cheeks adorn,
Like sun-beams glittering thro' a vap'rous morn.
But O what horror seiz'd her quiv'ring heart,
What unprov'd anguish of distressful smart,
When on the steps that to her chamber lead,
She starting listens to her father's tread;
With out-stretch'd arm, and terror-rolling eye,
Perceives his steady pace still winding nigh,
And destitute of ev'ry wish'd relief,
She stands a marble monument of grief;
Mean time Alexis' more attentive care,
Observ'd a chest that time was mould'ring there,
33
And ere it clos'd sigh'd forth one deep adieu.
Now comes her Sire with brow in anger drest,
While hard-drawn breathing tears his lab'ring breast.
Then thus exclaims, “Thou torment of my life,
“Thou living semblance of my hated wife,
“Why thus, disturb'd at midnight's peaceful hour,
“Shun'st thou oblivious sleep's consoling pow'r?
“If, as thou say'st, and as thy tears betray,
“All comfortless is pass'd th' unsocial day;
“At least when night extends her sable veil,
“And the gall'd captive ceases to bewail;
“When the throng'd Shepherds, midst the falling snow,
“Enwrapt in furry coats their cares forego,
“While the burnt bush defends them from the cold,
“And scares the savage spoiler of the fold;
“O then, at least, restrain th' impatient sigh,
“And with soft slumber seal thy roving eye.
“But thou, when all the living mock the dead,
“Measur'st thy chamber with unquiet tread,
“And scorn'st to calm thy vain romantic woes
“With offer'd solace of benign repose:
“Perhaps some lawless flame usurps thy breast,
“Some youth tho' absent still disturbs thy rest;
“Tho' absent, say I? or perchance not so,
“With folded arms he now may watch below;
“Nay, such are female arts, this chest may hold
“Some base seducer, some advent'rer bold.
“But know, insidious Girl, if e'er I find
“That shallow love subdue thy narrow mind,
“Or vagrant Striplings haunt th' adjacent plains
“To throw the glance, or wake the wanton strains;
“And that thou view'st them with the practis'd smile,
“Design'd alike to comfort and beguile;
“By heav'ns eternal Majesty I swear,
“Thy life is doom'd to solitary care;
“To long succession of increasing pain,
“To sigh neglected, and to hope in vain!
“Nay do not weep, nor strive in me to move
“Th' unmanly weakness of paternal love;
“But rather on thy bed, in slumber laid,
“Call fancy's hov'ring visions to thine aid.
“Fancy may lead thee to some murm'ring stream,
“Bring the wish'd lover in extatic dream,
“May show thee gardens rich with fragrant flow'rs,
“Where flutt'ring youth consumes the sportive hours;
“Paint the proud festival, the banquet gay,
“And scatter myrtles on thy bridal day.
“So shall fictitious joys thy pangs subdue—
Then stern he frown'd, and hasten'd from her view.
While hard-drawn breathing tears his lab'ring breast.
Then thus exclaims, “Thou torment of my life,
“Thou living semblance of my hated wife,
“Why thus, disturb'd at midnight's peaceful hour,
“Shun'st thou oblivious sleep's consoling pow'r?
“If, as thou say'st, and as thy tears betray,
“All comfortless is pass'd th' unsocial day;
“At least when night extends her sable veil,
“And the gall'd captive ceases to bewail;
“When the throng'd Shepherds, midst the falling snow,
“Enwrapt in furry coats their cares forego,
“While the burnt bush defends them from the cold,
“And scares the savage spoiler of the fold;
“O then, at least, restrain th' impatient sigh,
“And with soft slumber seal thy roving eye.
34
“Measur'st thy chamber with unquiet tread,
“And scorn'st to calm thy vain romantic woes
“With offer'd solace of benign repose:
“Perhaps some lawless flame usurps thy breast,
“Some youth tho' absent still disturbs thy rest;
“Tho' absent, say I? or perchance not so,
“With folded arms he now may watch below;
“Nay, such are female arts, this chest may hold
“Some base seducer, some advent'rer bold.
“But know, insidious Girl, if e'er I find
“That shallow love subdue thy narrow mind,
“Or vagrant Striplings haunt th' adjacent plains
“To throw the glance, or wake the wanton strains;
“And that thou view'st them with the practis'd smile,
“Design'd alike to comfort and beguile;
“By heav'ns eternal Majesty I swear,
“Thy life is doom'd to solitary care;
“To long succession of increasing pain,
“To sigh neglected, and to hope in vain!
35
“Th' unmanly weakness of paternal love;
“But rather on thy bed, in slumber laid,
“Call fancy's hov'ring visions to thine aid.
“Fancy may lead thee to some murm'ring stream,
“Bring the wish'd lover in extatic dream,
“May show thee gardens rich with fragrant flow'rs,
“Where flutt'ring youth consumes the sportive hours;
“Paint the proud festival, the banquet gay,
“And scatter myrtles on thy bridal day.
“So shall fictitious joys thy pangs subdue—
Then stern he frown'd, and hasten'd from her view.
Come now distracted Muse! whose tresses flow
In desolation of severest woe,
Who lov'st to haunt the promontory's height,
Where Ocean struggles with the storms of night.
When oft as Eurus checks his frantic rage,
Gives the short pause a fiercer war to wage,
Shrilly is heard upon the wild waves tost
The last sad sea-cry ere the vessel's lost;
While the lone cannon groans upon the air,
And seems the dying Echo of despair;
Yes thou! who strik'st thy lyre with pathos deep,
When all the sons of toil are sunk in sleep,
And 'midst the Gothic minster's solemn gloom,
Welcom'st the pale ghost issuing from the tomb:
Or warn'st the western isles with doleful strain
Of the near coming of the hurricane:
Who awful wak'st the melancholy dirge,
When Pestilence appears with venom'd scourge,
And the sad city's hopeless thousands rave,
And youth and beauty gorge the hungry grave:
Whose song was heard amid the dismal yell,
When shook Calabria, and Messina fell!
Inspire my sorr'wing verse, which strives to show
The start of anguish, and the shriek of woe,
The pray'r half utter'd, and the tear half shed,
When first Paulina found her lover dead.
For ruthless fate had seal'd th' eternal doom,
And changed his place of refuge to a tomb.
With such an air and such a desp'rate mien,
Beside Adonis stood the Cyprian queen,
When the boar-lacerated boy she found,
And latest life was gushing from the wound.
Ah who can tell the pangs the maiden prov'd
For lost Alexis, whom alone she lov'd!
She saw the rose grown livid on his cheek,
Yet strove with tone familiar still to speak;
Nor would she think it true, but ask'd him why
So cold his hand and so unmov'd his eye?
Said that the bitter tempest now was o'er,
Her father gone, and he need sleep no more.
But soon returning reason bade her know
The wide-embracing agony of woe;
Her bosom rose convulsive, the thick sigh
Stuck in her throat with passion'd extacy;
“And is,” she cried, “that noble spirit fled?—
“O let me also join the sacred dead!”
Then sudden sunk to momentary rest,
Cold on her dear Alexis' colder breast.
Alas! reviving sense awak'd her care
To deeper horrors of sublime despair;
To dire perfection of excessive pain,
To weep, to pray, to think, to feel in vain.
One while she melts, then stiffens into stone,
Now mingles laughter with her maniac moan;
Now on her terrace wildly rushing forth
To court the icy fury of the North,
Her fev'rish bosom only seems to find
A burning torrent in each passing wind:
Oft to Alexis, with imagin'd bliss,
She madly kneels, and gives th' unanswer'd kiss;
Awhile unsettled, and awhile serene,
She doubts, she loves, she hopes, and faints between.
In desolation of severest woe,
Who lov'st to haunt the promontory's height,
Where Ocean struggles with the storms of night.
When oft as Eurus checks his frantic rage,
Gives the short pause a fiercer war to wage,
36
The last sad sea-cry ere the vessel's lost;
While the lone cannon groans upon the air,
And seems the dying Echo of despair;
Yes thou! who strik'st thy lyre with pathos deep,
When all the sons of toil are sunk in sleep,
And 'midst the Gothic minster's solemn gloom,
Welcom'st the pale ghost issuing from the tomb:
Or warn'st the western isles with doleful strain
Of the near coming of the hurricane:
Who awful wak'st the melancholy dirge,
When Pestilence appears with venom'd scourge,
And the sad city's hopeless thousands rave,
And youth and beauty gorge the hungry grave:
Whose song was heard amid the dismal yell,
When shook Calabria, and Messina fell!
37
The start of anguish, and the shriek of woe,
The pray'r half utter'd, and the tear half shed,
When first Paulina found her lover dead.
For ruthless fate had seal'd th' eternal doom,
And changed his place of refuge to a tomb.
With such an air and such a desp'rate mien,
Beside Adonis stood the Cyprian queen,
When the boar-lacerated boy she found,
And latest life was gushing from the wound.
Ah who can tell the pangs the maiden prov'd
For lost Alexis, whom alone she lov'd!
She saw the rose grown livid on his cheek,
Yet strove with tone familiar still to speak;
Nor would she think it true, but ask'd him why
So cold his hand and so unmov'd his eye?
Said that the bitter tempest now was o'er,
Her father gone, and he need sleep no more.
But soon returning reason bade her know
The wide-embracing agony of woe;
38
Stuck in her throat with passion'd extacy;
“And is,” she cried, “that noble spirit fled?—
“O let me also join the sacred dead!”
Then sudden sunk to momentary rest,
Cold on her dear Alexis' colder breast.
Alas! reviving sense awak'd her care
To deeper horrors of sublime despair;
To dire perfection of excessive pain,
To weep, to pray, to think, to feel in vain.
One while she melts, then stiffens into stone,
Now mingles laughter with her maniac moan;
Now on her terrace wildly rushing forth
To court the icy fury of the North,
Her fev'rish bosom only seems to find
A burning torrent in each passing wind:
Oft to Alexis, with imagin'd bliss,
She madly kneels, and gives th' unanswer'd kiss;
Awhile unsettled, and awhile serene,
She doubts, she loves, she hopes, and faints between.
39
Ere on the Eastern hills the dawning day
Mark'd with weak eye the dun Night's sad array,
That slowly urges tow'rds the west afar
The gradual progress of her sable car,
New-rising terrors for a Father's ire
More prudent grief, and cautious thoughts inspire.
To bear the body thence she now must try,
Avoid imputed guilt, retire, and die.
With anxious step the trembling maiden goes
Where sinks the mansion's Porter in repose,
Whose daily care was in the porch to stand,
Well pleas'd to execute his Lord's command,
And sternly banish from th' unfriendly door,
The fainting trav'ler, and th' imploring poor.
Dark was his brow, and not one gleam of grace
Play'd on the surly features of his face;
His pallid eye-balls shot a villain's gaze,
Mingled with abject cunning's hateful rays;
Nor o'er his brows were Time's white honours shed,
But half-form'd gray usurp'd a sallow red;
No pleasing accents glided from his tongue,
Like age he seem'd that never had been young;
Yet oft his eye would send unholy fires,
That low lasciviousness alone inspires;
For when he saw Paulina's form appear,
He turn'd away, yet as he turn'd would leer,
And by the fiery glance too plainly show'd,
That brutal Passion in his bosom glow'd.
But most cold Avarice his thoughts confin'd,
And stifled ev'ry virtue in his mind.
Of him Paulina now implores relief,
With all the potent eloquence of grief;
Tells her sad tale, while at each word opprest,
The tear-drop falls a pearl upon her breast;
Paints the fell scene of anguish, to engage
His aid to screen her from a father's rage.
“O bear, she cries, those clay-cold limbs away,
“Close the fond eyes that late outshone the day;
“Hide, hide in earth that form, which Nature made
“Lovely as Summer when she cheers the glade,
“And from her verdant lap profusely throws]
“The sweets that Zephyr borrows from the rose.
“But now his beauty's o'er, his sense is gone,
“His love is vanish'd, and myself undone:
“Hush'd is that tuneful voice, which but to hear,
“Would check wild discord in her mid career,
“And lost the strong expression that could gain
“The ear of Pity for the plaint of Pain.
“No more he charms with unaffected grace,
“Nor shows an Eden blooming on his face.
“Outstretch'd he lies, nor feels a care for me,
“Who mourn his fate with helpless agony.
“Then roar ye blust'ring winds, ye storms descend,
“Come death and bid this thinking substance end;
“To join Alexis' let my spirit go,
“Escape a parent's rage, nor longer feel a woe.
Mark'd with weak eye the dun Night's sad array,
That slowly urges tow'rds the west afar
The gradual progress of her sable car,
New-rising terrors for a Father's ire
More prudent grief, and cautious thoughts inspire.
To bear the body thence she now must try,
Avoid imputed guilt, retire, and die.
With anxious step the trembling maiden goes
Where sinks the mansion's Porter in repose,
Whose daily care was in the porch to stand,
Well pleas'd to execute his Lord's command,
And sternly banish from th' unfriendly door,
The fainting trav'ler, and th' imploring poor.
Dark was his brow, and not one gleam of grace
Play'd on the surly features of his face;
His pallid eye-balls shot a villain's gaze,
Mingled with abject cunning's hateful rays;
Nor o'er his brows were Time's white honours shed,
But half-form'd gray usurp'd a sallow red;
40
Like age he seem'd that never had been young;
Yet oft his eye would send unholy fires,
That low lasciviousness alone inspires;
For when he saw Paulina's form appear,
He turn'd away, yet as he turn'd would leer,
And by the fiery glance too plainly show'd,
That brutal Passion in his bosom glow'd.
But most cold Avarice his thoughts confin'd,
And stifled ev'ry virtue in his mind.
Of him Paulina now implores relief,
With all the potent eloquence of grief;
Tells her sad tale, while at each word opprest,
The tear-drop falls a pearl upon her breast;
Paints the fell scene of anguish, to engage
His aid to screen her from a father's rage.
“O bear, she cries, those clay-cold limbs away,
“Close the fond eyes that late outshone the day;
“Hide, hide in earth that form, which Nature made
“Lovely as Summer when she cheers the glade,
41
“The sweets that Zephyr borrows from the rose.
“But now his beauty's o'er, his sense is gone,
“His love is vanish'd, and myself undone:
“Hush'd is that tuneful voice, which but to hear,
“Would check wild discord in her mid career,
“And lost the strong expression that could gain
“The ear of Pity for the plaint of Pain.
“No more he charms with unaffected grace,
“Nor shows an Eden blooming on his face.
“Outstretch'd he lies, nor feels a care for me,
“Who mourn his fate with helpless agony.
“Then roar ye blust'ring winds, ye storms descend,
“Come death and bid this thinking substance end;
“To join Alexis' let my spirit go,
“Escape a parent's rage, nor longer feel a woe.
Here ceas'd the fair, but in the Porter's heart,
No mild compassion rose to ease her smart;
He, all unused to the melting mood,
Like the fierce Panther of the desert stood,
And view'd with secret bliss his destin'd prize,
Enjoy'd her pangs, and feasted on her sighs,
Delighted saw each struggling passion tear,
The agonizing tumult of despair,
The winning bend of undulating woe,
The cheeks that redden'd with distraction's glow,
Her azure eyes that pour'd a lucid beam,
Thro' the clear medium of a crystal stream,
And all the nameless, all the countless charms,
That beauty shows when sunk in sorrow's arms:
For as his harden'd soul had never caught
The soothing softness of the tender thought,
No other taste of happiness had he,
But dark debauch, and sensuality.
And now he proves the quickly-rising fire,
The hell-born eagerness of hot desire;
Yet ere his vile intention he betray'd,
Thus with an angry look address'd the maid:
“O come not base dissembler! come not here,
“To melt by grief, and soften with a tear,
“To wind thy flagrant mis'ry round my heart,
“And of the trespass throw on me a part!
“Shall I my duty to thy Sire betray,
“And bear thy Lover's abject corse away?
“Whom Heaven, just judgment of his crimes, in ire
“Has hurl'd to death with quick-avenging fire.
“Sooner the tim'rous dove amid the skies
“Shall move the pouncing falcon by her cries;
“Or op'ning buds of th' early season find
“A fost'ring pity in the frozen wind,
“Than thou shalt e'er, to mitigate thy pain,
“In me a treacherous accomplice gain.
“No, I will seek thy sullen Father's room,
“Exalt thy guilt, and aggravate thy doom,
“By the keen sarcasm's pointed force engage
“To wake the vengeance of well-founded rage.
“One sole resource for thee will I bestow
“T' escape the horrors of impending woe—
“Nay hold me not, by gloomy night I swear,
“Unless thou willing com'st my bed to share,
“Unless thou yield'st the treasure of thy charms
“To the warm transport of these longing arms,
“Thy vile deceits shall reach the gen'ral ear,
“And thou shalt prove a father's wrath severe.”
Wild look'd the shudd'ring maid and spoke no more,
But sunk entranc'd upon the stony floor,
While the hot villain rais'd her senseless head,
And bore the hapless victim to his bed.
So the stray lamb that vainly seeks the mead,
Where shepherds guard, and flocks securely feed,
If the far-ranging wolf she chance to meet,
And claims his aid by many a plaintive bleat,
Seiz'd as his prey she lifts her hopeless eyes,
Perceives her sad mistake too late, and dies.
No mild compassion rose to ease her smart;
42
Like the fierce Panther of the desert stood,
And view'd with secret bliss his destin'd prize,
Enjoy'd her pangs, and feasted on her sighs,
Delighted saw each struggling passion tear,
The agonizing tumult of despair,
The winning bend of undulating woe,
The cheeks that redden'd with distraction's glow,
Her azure eyes that pour'd a lucid beam,
Thro' the clear medium of a crystal stream,
And all the nameless, all the countless charms,
That beauty shows when sunk in sorrow's arms:
For as his harden'd soul had never caught
The soothing softness of the tender thought,
No other taste of happiness had he,
But dark debauch, and sensuality.
And now he proves the quickly-rising fire,
The hell-born eagerness of hot desire;
Yet ere his vile intention he betray'd,
Thus with an angry look address'd the maid:
43
“To melt by grief, and soften with a tear,
“To wind thy flagrant mis'ry round my heart,
“And of the trespass throw on me a part!
“Shall I my duty to thy Sire betray,
“And bear thy Lover's abject corse away?
“Whom Heaven, just judgment of his crimes, in ire
“Has hurl'd to death with quick-avenging fire.
“Sooner the tim'rous dove amid the skies
“Shall move the pouncing falcon by her cries;
“Or op'ning buds of th' early season find
“A fost'ring pity in the frozen wind,
“Than thou shalt e'er, to mitigate thy pain,
“In me a treacherous accomplice gain.
“No, I will seek thy sullen Father's room,
“Exalt thy guilt, and aggravate thy doom,
“By the keen sarcasm's pointed force engage
“To wake the vengeance of well-founded rage.
“One sole resource for thee will I bestow
“T' escape the horrors of impending woe—
44
“Unless thou willing com'st my bed to share,
“Unless thou yield'st the treasure of thy charms
“To the warm transport of these longing arms,
“Thy vile deceits shall reach the gen'ral ear,
“And thou shalt prove a father's wrath severe.”
Wild look'd the shudd'ring maid and spoke no more,
But sunk entranc'd upon the stony floor,
While the hot villain rais'd her senseless head,
And bore the hapless victim to his bed.
So the stray lamb that vainly seeks the mead,
Where shepherds guard, and flocks securely feed,
If the far-ranging wolf she chance to meet,
And claims his aid by many a plaintive bleat,
Seiz'd as his prey she lifts her hopeless eyes,
Perceives her sad mistake too late, and dies.
Alas! what rending tortures wait the maid,
To that fierce wretch by circumstance betray'd!
Yes, 'twas for him kind Nature bade her eye
Outglow the fulgent stars that gem the sky;
Yes, yes, for him her hair's redundant gold
O'er her white crest in silken bounty roll'd,
And her soft bosom's heavenly seat of joy,
For him with russian rudeness to destroy:
O night accurst, when vice exulting reign'd,
And virtue sunk, and innocence was stain'd!
Long shall each feeling Bard that night bewail,
And with sad cadence fill the panting gale,
And all shall find a ready sorrow flow,
Who taught to suffer, learn to pity woe.
Sweet hapless Girl! the gentle, and the kind,
The true of sentiment, the pure of mind,
The virgin band who tread the dewy lawn,
And drink the fragrance of the breezy dawn,
Whose hearts are tender as the yielding grass
That marks their step's light pressure as they pass,
Each pensive youth who in the silent groves
Laments the absence of the maid he loves,
The brave, the just, the gen'rous, and the great,
Thy faults shall pardon, and shall mourn thy fate.
To that fierce wretch by circumstance betray'd!
45
Outglow the fulgent stars that gem the sky;
Yes, yes, for him her hair's redundant gold
O'er her white crest in silken bounty roll'd,
And her soft bosom's heavenly seat of joy,
For him with russian rudeness to destroy:
O night accurst, when vice exulting reign'd,
And virtue sunk, and innocence was stain'd!
Long shall each feeling Bard that night bewail,
And with sad cadence fill the panting gale,
And all shall find a ready sorrow flow,
Who taught to suffer, learn to pity woe.
Sweet hapless Girl! the gentle, and the kind,
The true of sentiment, the pure of mind,
The virgin band who tread the dewy lawn,
And drink the fragrance of the breezy dawn,
Whose hearts are tender as the yielding grass
That marks their step's light pressure as they pass,
Each pensive youth who in the silent groves
Laments the absence of the maid he loves,
46
Thy faults shall pardon, and shall mourn thy fate.
The sated villain now Paulina left,
O'ercome with rage, and of all hope bereft,
Then bore Alexis to a neighb'ring wood,
Stab'd his cold heart, and stain'd the wound with blood,
There welt'ring in the wind the youth he laid,
To meet some casual trav'ler's fun'ral aid;
And sure the vent'rous Poet's song may say,
That circling Dryads wept upon his clay;
The Hamadryads stood attentive there,
And Pan's wild ditty warbled thro' the air:
That meek Diana check'd the jocund chase,
And with her flocking nymphs adorn'd the place;
With folded arms she stood, and drooping head,
As she had seen her own Endymion dead:
And there the feather'd tribe of various wing
Brought the pale primrose, herald of the spring;
While near the snow drop's silken cups reclin'd,
And the fresh vi'let breathing odours join'd.
O'ercome with rage, and of all hope bereft,
Then bore Alexis to a neighb'ring wood,
Stab'd his cold heart, and stain'd the wound with blood,
There welt'ring in the wind the youth he laid,
To meet some casual trav'ler's fun'ral aid;
And sure the vent'rous Poet's song may say,
That circling Dryads wept upon his clay;
The Hamadryads stood attentive there,
And Pan's wild ditty warbled thro' the air:
That meek Diana check'd the jocund chase,
And with her flocking nymphs adorn'd the place;
With folded arms she stood, and drooping head,
As she had seen her own Endymion dead:
And there the feather'd tribe of various wing
Brought the pale primrose, herald of the spring;
47
And the fresh vi'let breathing odours join'd.
Th' inhuman Porter now a tyrant grown,
Smiles at Paulina's rage, and mocks her moan;
Whene'er he calls, the unassisted fair
Is doom'd his execrable bed to share,
Meet the lewd terrors of his dire embrace,
And yield th' insulting spoiler ev'ry grace,
Till oft repeated pleasures pall'd his sense,
And int'rest fought for other recompense.
Poor luckless Girl! and wast thou forc'd to feel
Such pangs as modesty could ne'er reveal;
And, like the rose of some unshelter'd dale,
Scatter thy sweets to ev'ry rifling gale;
To each low-minded boor whose wealth could buy,
Submissive come in poignant misery?
Smiles at Paulina's rage, and mocks her moan;
Whene'er he calls, the unassisted fair
Is doom'd his execrable bed to share,
Meet the lewd terrors of his dire embrace,
And yield th' insulting spoiler ev'ry grace,
Till oft repeated pleasures pall'd his sense,
And int'rest fought for other recompense.
Poor luckless Girl! and wast thou forc'd to feel
Such pangs as modesty could ne'er reveal;
And, like the rose of some unshelter'd dale,
Scatter thy sweets to ev'ry rifling gale;
To each low-minded boor whose wealth could buy,
Submissive come in poignant misery?
Soon as dull night a murky mantle spread
O'er the dim plain, and mountain's misty head,
Some sordid lovers to her couch repair,
And press the beauties of th' abhorrent fair;
The young, the vain, the hideous, and the old,
Bought the reluctant extacy with gold.
Poor luckless Girl!—in vain the rising Day
Sent from the purpled East his cheering ray:
To her the Sun in dazzling glory bright,
Was all as sad and gloomy as the night;
For keenest torments prey'd upon her soul,
While each requir'd redress her fears controul.
The brutal Porter's threats repeated still
Subdu'd with tyrant force her female will;
In desolate dismay her moments pass'd,
While still she wish'd each moment were her last.
With mind more pure than are th' unsullied snows,
Where no warm beam its lustre ever throws,
She meets her hard, her prostituted doom,
And fancies lust the prelude of the tomb.
Forc'd like some wounded deer that sadly strays
Thro' thorny paths, and many mingling ways,
To drop, in lone retreat, the fruitless tear,
And find no rest nor consolation near.
The Sun's bright orb had travers'd now two signs,
Where the broad Zodiac's circling belt inclines,
When mild Paulina at the close of eve
Sought her drear chamber, unobserv'd to grieve;
And hop'd awhile to find in soft repose
A sweet oblivious respite of her woes;
To pass one night to hateful vice unknown,
Uninjured, unmolested, and alone.
'Cross her cold couch in piteous sort she lay,
While wistful Mem'ry mark'd her happier day;
When late, unruffled as the placid meer,
Whose surface shows th' inverted landscape there,
She prest her own Alexis to her heart,
Source of short bliss, but never-ending smart;
And as she still recall'd him to her view,
Sigh'd for the virtuous love that once she knew:
Her mournful thoughts dwell on his fatal end,
And from her eyes the frequent tears descend;
While oft to heav'n she pours the fervent prayer,
To ease her pains, and let her perish there.
O'er the dim plain, and mountain's misty head,
48
And press the beauties of th' abhorrent fair;
The young, the vain, the hideous, and the old,
Bought the reluctant extacy with gold.
Poor luckless Girl!—in vain the rising Day
Sent from the purpled East his cheering ray:
To her the Sun in dazzling glory bright,
Was all as sad and gloomy as the night;
For keenest torments prey'd upon her soul,
While each requir'd redress her fears controul.
The brutal Porter's threats repeated still
Subdu'd with tyrant force her female will;
In desolate dismay her moments pass'd,
While still she wish'd each moment were her last.
With mind more pure than are th' unsullied snows,
Where no warm beam its lustre ever throws,
She meets her hard, her prostituted doom,
And fancies lust the prelude of the tomb.
Forc'd like some wounded deer that sadly strays
Thro' thorny paths, and many mingling ways,
49
And find no rest nor consolation near.
The Sun's bright orb had travers'd now two signs,
Where the broad Zodiac's circling belt inclines,
When mild Paulina at the close of eve
Sought her drear chamber, unobserv'd to grieve;
And hop'd awhile to find in soft repose
A sweet oblivious respite of her woes;
To pass one night to hateful vice unknown,
Uninjured, unmolested, and alone.
'Cross her cold couch in piteous sort she lay,
While wistful Mem'ry mark'd her happier day;
When late, unruffled as the placid meer,
Whose surface shows th' inverted landscape there,
She prest her own Alexis to her heart,
Source of short bliss, but never-ending smart;
And as she still recall'd him to her view,
Sigh'd for the virtuous love that once she knew:
Her mournful thoughts dwell on his fatal end,
And from her eyes the frequent tears descend;
50
To ease her pains, and let her perish there.
As thus she melancholy lay reclin'd,
Nor wearied sorrow slumber'd in her mind,
Again the Porter claims his vanquish'd prey,
And leads her footsteps o'er the lonely way,
Until they reach a dissolute abode,
Whose num'rous lights th' internal concourse show'd,
Where twelve mean wretches drain'd the frantic bowl,
Of manners rude, and infamous of soul,
Rough as Mount-Cenis' cloud-encircled brow,
That angry low'rs on Piedmont's vale below,
Barren of sentiment and feeling too,
Sons of severe debauch, a baleful crew;
To such as these the meek Paulina borne,
With eyes that stream'd like April's humid morn,
Sustain'd the savage wrongs of brutal fire,
Their mingled insults, and their causeless ire;
'Till as the sense-dispelling liquor flows,
Each the dark madness of his bosom shows;
Some, proud of infamy, avow their crimes,
The fault'ring Porter tells of former times;
Rage swells on rage, on tumult tumults rise,
'Till recollection sinks, and reason flies,
And drunkenness, than death more dire to view,
Wraps in oblivious veil th' inhuman crew.
Meantime Paulina who with folded arms
Sate silent by, and brooded o'er her harms,
Observ'd th' occasion, while within her breast
Revenge awoke for modesty opprest;
She saw weak hope expand a twilight ray,
That offer'd rest to calm her future day:
So the poor sailor on the broken mast,
Driv'n o'er the turgid wave by every blast,
Amid the darkness of the boist'rous night
Woos with impassion'd eye th' approach of light;
And O! what heart-consoling transports rise,
If with the early gleam he land descries,
Tho' bleak the shores, and barren hills appear,
He bids them welcome with a joy sincere.
Nor wearied sorrow slumber'd in her mind,
Again the Porter claims his vanquish'd prey,
And leads her footsteps o'er the lonely way,
Until they reach a dissolute abode,
Whose num'rous lights th' internal concourse show'd,
Where twelve mean wretches drain'd the frantic bowl,
Of manners rude, and infamous of soul,
Rough as Mount-Cenis' cloud-encircled brow,
That angry low'rs on Piedmont's vale below,
Barren of sentiment and feeling too,
Sons of severe debauch, a baleful crew;
To such as these the meek Paulina borne,
With eyes that stream'd like April's humid morn,
Sustain'd the savage wrongs of brutal fire,
Their mingled insults, and their causeless ire;
51
Each the dark madness of his bosom shows;
Some, proud of infamy, avow their crimes,
The fault'ring Porter tells of former times;
Rage swells on rage, on tumult tumults rise,
'Till recollection sinks, and reason flies,
And drunkenness, than death more dire to view,
Wraps in oblivious veil th' inhuman crew.
Meantime Paulina who with folded arms
Sate silent by, and brooded o'er her harms,
Observ'd th' occasion, while within her breast
Revenge awoke for modesty opprest;
She saw weak hope expand a twilight ray,
That offer'd rest to calm her future day:
So the poor sailor on the broken mast,
Driv'n o'er the turgid wave by every blast,
Amid the darkness of the boist'rous night
Woos with impassion'd eye th' approach of light;
And O! what heart-consoling transports rise,
If with the early gleam he land descries,
52
He bids them welcome with a joy sincere.
Ah! who among the best can ever know
What coming guilt may lay his virtue low?
Strange chance, or injury, or love, or rage,
To sudden acts of infamy engage;
And the most happy may to-morrow try,
The arduous weight of life's calamity.
What coming guilt may lay his virtue low?
Strange chance, or injury, or love, or rage,
To sudden acts of infamy engage;
And the most happy may to-morrow try,
The arduous weight of life's calamity.
Now stern Paulina, rising at the thought,
From the dull Porter's belt a dagger caught,
She threw the softness of her sex aside,
Gaz'd on the glitt'ring point, and thus she cried:
“Hail freedom hail! from loathed vice I fly,
“Ye ruthless violating miscreants! die,
“Die cursed crew, and may the pow'r that reigns,
“Just, and immortal, bid you feel my pains,
“When all my tears were useless, and my sighs
“Made lust more eager for the sacrifice;
“Say, shall these corpse-like limbs from day to day,
“Be borne for ev'ry scornful boor a prey,
“And shall I tamely meet the crying sin,
“Nor find remorse, nor vengeance stir within?
“No— in reward for all the wrongs I feel,
“Prove the sharp searching of this deadly steel;
“And thou belov'd Alexis, injur'd shade!
“Behold me vindicate the vows I made;
“For tho' mine innocence be lost, for thee
“My soul retains it's first sincerity.
She ceas'd, and with unerring stroke around,
In ev'ry heart fix'd deep the vengeful wound;
Death triumph'd there, while from each villain's side
The ebbing purple pour'd a smoky tide.
From the dull Porter's belt a dagger caught,
She threw the softness of her sex aside,
Gaz'd on the glitt'ring point, and thus she cried:
“Hail freedom hail! from loathed vice I fly,
“Ye ruthless violating miscreants! die,
“Die cursed crew, and may the pow'r that reigns,
“Just, and immortal, bid you feel my pains,
“When all my tears were useless, and my sighs
“Made lust more eager for the sacrifice;
53
“Be borne for ev'ry scornful boor a prey,
“And shall I tamely meet the crying sin,
“Nor find remorse, nor vengeance stir within?
“No— in reward for all the wrongs I feel,
“Prove the sharp searching of this deadly steel;
“And thou belov'd Alexis, injur'd shade!
“Behold me vindicate the vows I made;
“For tho' mine innocence be lost, for thee
“My soul retains it's first sincerity.
She ceas'd, and with unerring stroke around,
In ev'ry heart fix'd deep the vengeful wound;
Death triumph'd there, while from each villain's side
The ebbing purple pour'd a smoky tide.
Now from the horrid scene she turn'd her view,
And with quick-palpitating anguish flew.
But first in haste the mansion key she tore,
That her late tyrant at his girdle bore:
Then home return'd across the silent lawn,
With all the fleetness of the bounding fawn.
Soon as she reach'd her solitary room,
Which yet no streaks of early light illume,
On the hard floor her lovely limbs she throws,
While many a tear it's timely aid bestows;
Then on her knees in agony of sighs,
Thus to the Pow'r supreme her accents rise.
“O thou first cause! who rul'st this world below,
“Dread scene of complicated vice and woe,
“If to thine all-embracing spirit seem
“Or good, or bad, this life's mysterious dream,
“If thou can'st pity those who suffer here
“The settled sorrow of the daily tear,
“If ev'ry action of this world combin'd
“Still float before thine inexhausted mind,
“My injuries shall with my faults be known,
“And plead for pardon at thine awful throne.
“Now too in deep contrition will I swear
“To pass my life in penitence and pray'r,
“To pour the pious hymn at early morn,
“Quit ev'ry rose, and dwell upon the thorn.
“Far from my heav'n-fix'd thoughts shall now be hurl'd
“The joys of youth and pleasures of the world;
“In humble solitude my days shall flow,
“And hallow'd hope be all the bliss I know.
“Grim Suicide, to ease my lab'ring heart,
“Shall vainly lift his sadly-tempting dart;
“For I will suffer what just fate may give,
“And, all my sins to expiate, dare to live:
“But when at length these agonies are fled,
“And my cold corse is number'd with the dead;
“Forgiven all the horror of my crimes,
“Perhaps I then shall mount th' angelic climes,
“Where meek ey'd Mercy, with a sister's love,
“Shall the just tumult of my fears remove;
“And dear Alexis to my soul be join'd,
“In sacred essence of etherial mind;
“With happiness unalter'd still to be,
“While length'ning time becomes eternity.”
And with quick-palpitating anguish flew.
But first in haste the mansion key she tore,
That her late tyrant at his girdle bore:
Then home return'd across the silent lawn,
With all the fleetness of the bounding fawn.
54
Which yet no streaks of early light illume,
On the hard floor her lovely limbs she throws,
While many a tear it's timely aid bestows;
Then on her knees in agony of sighs,
Thus to the Pow'r supreme her accents rise.
“O thou first cause! who rul'st this world below,
“Dread scene of complicated vice and woe,
“If to thine all-embracing spirit seem
“Or good, or bad, this life's mysterious dream,
“If thou can'st pity those who suffer here
“The settled sorrow of the daily tear,
“If ev'ry action of this world combin'd
“Still float before thine inexhausted mind,
“My injuries shall with my faults be known,
“And plead for pardon at thine awful throne.
“Now too in deep contrition will I swear
“To pass my life in penitence and pray'r,
“To pour the pious hymn at early morn,
“Quit ev'ry rose, and dwell upon the thorn.
“Far from my heav'n-fix'd thoughts shall now be hurl'd
“The joys of youth and pleasures of the world;
55
“And hallow'd hope be all the bliss I know.
“Grim Suicide, to ease my lab'ring heart,
“Shall vainly lift his sadly-tempting dart;
“For I will suffer what just fate may give,
“And, all my sins to expiate, dare to live:
“But when at length these agonies are fled,
“And my cold corse is number'd with the dead;
“Forgiven all the horror of my crimes,
“Perhaps I then shall mount th' angelic climes,
“Where meek ey'd Mercy, with a sister's love,
“Shall the just tumult of my fears remove;
“And dear Alexis to my soul be join'd,
“In sacred essence of etherial mind;
“With happiness unalter'd still to be,
“While length'ning time becomes eternity.”
This alludes to the tremendous Earthquake in the beginning of February, 1783, which entirely destroyed the city of Messina, and buried many thousands of the inhabitants. Its ravages were also extended throughout Calabria, which Country it laid waste. Sir Wm. Hamilton has given a very interesting and scientifick account of its causes and effects.
It has been objected by Friends whose opinion I much respect, that the continuation of Paulina's submission to her wrongs, takes from the propriety of pity; but if it be considered that the same cause existed, which overcame her in the first instance, I hope I shall be justified in adhering to the fact.
It may perhaps not be uninteresting to the curious to know, that the whole of the above-related transaction was discovered by means of the Wife of Paulina's Confessor; and that in consequence the magnanimous Catharine II. took the unfortunate girl under her protection, and procured her the necessary retirement in a Convent, which she ardently desired.
| Paulina | |