The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour collated with the ms. volume of his poems, and containing several pieces hitherto unpublished; with illustrative notes, and an account of the life of the author. By James Paterson |
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| CONTEMPLATION: OR THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE.
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 | The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour |  |
CONTEMPLATION: OR THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE.
TO A YOUNG LADY WITH THE FOLLOWING POEM.
Read here the pangs of unsuccessful love,
View the dire ills the weary sufferers prove,
When Care in every shape has leave to reign,
And keener sharpens ev'ry sense of pain:
No charm the cruel spoiler can control,
He blasts the beauteous features of the soul;
With various conflict rends the destin'd breast,
And lays th' internal fair creation waste:
The dreadful demon raging unconfin'd,
To his dire purpose bends the passive mind,
Gloomy and dark the prospect round appears,
Doubts spring from doubts, and fears engender fears;
Hope after hope goes out in endless night,
And all is anguish, torture, and affright.
View the dire ills the weary sufferers prove,
When Care in every shape has leave to reign,
And keener sharpens ev'ry sense of pain:
No charm the cruel spoiler can control,
He blasts the beauteous features of the soul;
With various conflict rends the destin'd breast,
And lays th' internal fair creation waste:
The dreadful demon raging unconfin'd,
To his dire purpose bends the passive mind,
35
Doubts spring from doubts, and fears engender fears;
Hope after hope goes out in endless night,
And all is anguish, torture, and affright.
O! beauteous friend, a gentler fate be thine;
Still may thy star with mildest influence shine;
May heav'n surround thee with peculiar care,
And make thee happy, as it made thee fair;
That gave thee sweetness, unaffected ease,
The pleasing look, that ne'er was taught to please,
True genuine charms, where falsehood claims no part,
Which not alone entice, but fix the heart:
And far beyond all these, supreme in place,
The virtuous mind, an undecaying grace.
Still may thy youth each fond endearment prove
Of tender friendship and complacent love;
May love approach thee in the mildest dress,
And court thee to domestic happiness;
And bring along the pow'r that only knows
To heighten human joys and soften woes;
For woes will be in life; these still return,
The good, the beauteous, and the wise must mourn:
Doubl'd the joy that friendship does divide,
Lessen'd the pain when arm'd the social side:
But ah! how fierce the pang, how deep the groan,
When strong affliction finds the weak alone!
Then many a friend still guard thy shelter'd days,
And guide thee safe thro' Fortune's mystic ways;
The happy youth, whom most thy soul approves,
Friend of thy choice and husband of thy loves,
Whose holy flame heav'n's altar does inspire,
That burns thro' life one clear unsullied fire,
A mutual warmth that glows from breast to breast,
Who loving is belov'd and blessing blest.
Then all the pleasing scenes of life appear,
The charms of kindred and relations dear,
The smiling offspring, Love's far better part,
And all the social meltings of the heart:
Then harlot Pleasure, with her wanton train,
Seduces from the perfect state in vain;
In vain to the lock'd ear the syren sings,
When angels shadow with their guardian wings.
Such, fair Monimia, be thy sacred lot,
When ev'ry memory of him forgot,
Whose faithful muse inspir'd the pious pray'r,
And wearied heaven to keep thee in its care;
That pleas'd it would its choicest influence show'r,
Or on thy serious, or thy mirthful hour;
Conspicuous known in ev'ry scene of life,
The mother, sister, daughter, friend, and wife;
That joy may grow on joy, and constant last,
And each new day rise brighter than the past.
Still may thy star with mildest influence shine;
May heav'n surround thee with peculiar care,
And make thee happy, as it made thee fair;
That gave thee sweetness, unaffected ease,
The pleasing look, that ne'er was taught to please,
True genuine charms, where falsehood claims no part,
Which not alone entice, but fix the heart:
And far beyond all these, supreme in place,
The virtuous mind, an undecaying grace.
Still may thy youth each fond endearment prove
Of tender friendship and complacent love;
May love approach thee in the mildest dress,
And court thee to domestic happiness;
And bring along the pow'r that only knows
To heighten human joys and soften woes;
For woes will be in life; these still return,
The good, the beauteous, and the wise must mourn:
Doubl'd the joy that friendship does divide,
Lessen'd the pain when arm'd the social side:
But ah! how fierce the pang, how deep the groan,
When strong affliction finds the weak alone!
Then many a friend still guard thy shelter'd days,
And guide thee safe thro' Fortune's mystic ways;
The happy youth, whom most thy soul approves,
Friend of thy choice and husband of thy loves,
Whose holy flame heav'n's altar does inspire,
That burns thro' life one clear unsullied fire,
A mutual warmth that glows from breast to breast,
Who loving is belov'd and blessing blest.
Then all the pleasing scenes of life appear,
The charms of kindred and relations dear,
The smiling offspring, Love's far better part,
And all the social meltings of the heart:
Then harlot Pleasure, with her wanton train,
Seduces from the perfect state in vain;
In vain to the lock'd ear the syren sings,
When angels shadow with their guardian wings.
Such, fair Monimia, be thy sacred lot,
When ev'ry memory of him forgot,
Whose faithful muse inspir'd the pious pray'r,
And wearied heaven to keep thee in its care;
That pleas'd it would its choicest influence show'r,
Or on thy serious, or thy mirthful hour;
Conspicuous known in ev'ry scene of life,
The mother, sister, daughter, friend, and wife;
36
And each new day rise brighter than the past.
O voice divine, whose heavenly strain
No mortal measure may attain,
O powerful to appease the smart,
That festers in a wounded heart,
Whose mystic numbers can assuage
The bosom of tumult'ous Rage,
Can strike the dagger from Despair,
And shut the watchful eye of Care.
Oft lur'd by thee, when wretches call,
Hope comes, that cheers or softens all;
Expell'd by thee, and dispossest
Envy forsakes the human breast.
Full oft with thee the bard retires,
And lost to earth, to heav'n aspires;
How nobly lost! with thee to rove
Thro' the long deep'ning solemn grove,
Or underneath the moonlight pale,
To Silence trust some plaintive tale,
Of nature's ills, and mankind's woes,
While kings and all the proud repose;
Or where some holy, aged oak,
A stranger to the woodman's stroke,
From the high rock's aerial crown,
In twisting arches bending down,
Bathes in the smooth pellucid stream,
Full oft he waits the mystic dream
Of mankind's joys right understood,
And of the all-prevailing good.
Go forth invok'd, O voice divine
And issue from thy sacred shrine;
Go search each solitude around,
Where Contemplation may be found,
Where'er apart the goddess stands
With lifted eyes and heaven-rais'd hands;
If rear'd on Speculation's hill
Her raptur'd soul enjoys its fill
Of far transporting Nature's scene,
Air, ocean, mountain, river, plain;
Or if with measur'd step she go
Where Meditation spreads below,
In hollow vale her ample store,
Till weary Fancy can no more;
Or inward if she turn her gaze,
And all th' internal world surveys;
With joy complacent sees succeed
In fair array, each comely deed.
She hears alone thy lofty strain,
All other music charms in vain;
In vain the sprightly notes resound,
That from the fretted roofs rebound,
When the deft minstrelsie advance
To form the quaint and orbed dance;
In vain unhallow'd lips implore,
She hearkens only to thy lore.
Then bring the lonely nymph along,
Obsequeous to thy magic song;
Bid her to bless the sacred bow'r
And heighten Wisdom's solemn hour.
No mortal measure may attain,
O powerful to appease the smart,
That festers in a wounded heart,
Whose mystic numbers can assuage
The bosom of tumult'ous Rage,
Can strike the dagger from Despair,
And shut the watchful eye of Care.
Oft lur'd by thee, when wretches call,
Hope comes, that cheers or softens all;
Expell'd by thee, and dispossest
Envy forsakes the human breast.
Full oft with thee the bard retires,
And lost to earth, to heav'n aspires;
How nobly lost! with thee to rove
Thro' the long deep'ning solemn grove,
Or underneath the moonlight pale,
To Silence trust some plaintive tale,
Of nature's ills, and mankind's woes,
While kings and all the proud repose;
Or where some holy, aged oak,
A stranger to the woodman's stroke,
From the high rock's aerial crown,
In twisting arches bending down,
Bathes in the smooth pellucid stream,
Full oft he waits the mystic dream
Of mankind's joys right understood,
And of the all-prevailing good.
Go forth invok'd, O voice divine
And issue from thy sacred shrine;
Go search each solitude around,
Where Contemplation may be found,
Where'er apart the goddess stands
With lifted eyes and heaven-rais'd hands;
If rear'd on Speculation's hill
Her raptur'd soul enjoys its fill
Of far transporting Nature's scene,
Air, ocean, mountain, river, plain;
Or if with measur'd step she go
Where Meditation spreads below,
In hollow vale her ample store,
Till weary Fancy can no more;
Or inward if she turn her gaze,
And all th' internal world surveys;
37
In fair array, each comely deed.
She hears alone thy lofty strain,
All other music charms in vain;
In vain the sprightly notes resound,
That from the fretted roofs rebound,
When the deft minstrelsie advance
To form the quaint and orbed dance;
In vain unhallow'd lips implore,
She hearkens only to thy lore.
Then bring the lonely nymph along,
Obsequeous to thy magic song;
Bid her to bless the sacred bow'r
And heighten Wisdom's solemn hour.
Bring Faith, endued with eagle eyes,
That joins this earth to distant skies;
Bland Hope that makes each sorrow less,
Still smiling calm amidst distress;
And bring the meek-ey'd Charitie,
Not least, tho' youngest of the three.
Knowledge the sage, whose radiant light
Darts quick across the mental night,
And add warm Friendship to the train,
Social, yielding, and humane;
With Silence, sober-suited maid,
Seldom on this earth survey'd:
Bid in this sacred band appear,
That aged venerable seer,
With sorrowing pale, with watchings spare,
Of pleasing yet dejected air,
Him, heavenly Melancholy hight,
Who flies the sons of false delight;
Now looks serene thro' human life,
Sees end in peace the moral strife;
Now to the dazzling prospect blind,
Trembles for heaven and for his kind;
And doubting much, still hoping best,
Late with submission finds his rest:
And by his side advance the dame
All glowing with celestial flame,
Devotion, high above that soars,
And sings exulting, and adores;
Dares fix on heav'n a mortal's gaze,
And triumph 'midst the seraph's blaze:
Last, to crown all, with these be join'd
The decent nun, fair Peace of Mind,
Whom Innocence, e'er yet betray'd,
Bore young in Eden's happy shade:
Resign'd, contented, meek and mild,
Of blameless mother, blameless child.
That joins this earth to distant skies;
Bland Hope that makes each sorrow less,
Still smiling calm amidst distress;
And bring the meek-ey'd Charitie,
Not least, tho' youngest of the three.
Knowledge the sage, whose radiant light
Darts quick across the mental night,
And add warm Friendship to the train,
Social, yielding, and humane;
With Silence, sober-suited maid,
Seldom on this earth survey'd:
Bid in this sacred band appear,
That aged venerable seer,
With sorrowing pale, with watchings spare,
Of pleasing yet dejected air,
Him, heavenly Melancholy hight,
Who flies the sons of false delight;
Now looks serene thro' human life,
Sees end in peace the moral strife;
Now to the dazzling prospect blind,
Trembles for heaven and for his kind;
And doubting much, still hoping best,
Late with submission finds his rest:
And by his side advance the dame
All glowing with celestial flame,
Devotion, high above that soars,
And sings exulting, and adores;
Dares fix on heav'n a mortal's gaze,
And triumph 'midst the seraph's blaze:
Last, to crown all, with these be join'd
The decent nun, fair Peace of Mind,
Whom Innocence, e'er yet betray'd,
Bore young in Eden's happy shade:
Resign'd, contented, meek and mild,
Of blameless mother, blameless child.
38
But from these woods, O thou retire!
Hood-wink'd Superstition dire:
Zeal that clanks her iron bands,
And bathes in blood her ruthless hands;
Far hence, Hypocrisy, away,
With pious semblance to betray,
Whose angel outside fair, contains
A heart corrupt, and foul with stains;
Ambition mad, that stems alone
The boistrous surge, with bladders blown;
Anger, with wild disorder'd pace;
And Malice pale of famish'd face;
Loud-tongued Clamour, get thee far
Hence, to wrangle at the bar;
With opening mouths vain Rumour hung;
And falsehood with her serpent tongue;
Revenge, her bloodshot eyes on fire,
And hissing Envy's snaky tire;
With Jealousy, the fiend most fell
Who bears about his inmate hell,
Now far apart with haggard mien
To lone Suspicion list'ning seen,
Now in a gloomy band appears
Of sallow doubts, and pale-eyed fears,
Whom dire Remorse of giant kind
Pursues with scorpion lash behind;
And thou Self-love, who tak'st from earth,
With the vile crawling worm, thy birth,
Untouch'd with others' joy or pain,
The social smile, the tear humane,
Thyself thy sole intemperate guest,
Uncall'd thy neighbour to the feast,
As if heaven's universal heir
'Twas thine to seize and not to share:
With these away, base wretch accurst,
By pride begot, by madness nurst,
Impiety! of hard'ned mind,
Gross, dull, presuming, stubborn, blind,
Unmov'd amidst this mighty all,
Deaf to the universal call:
In vain above the systems glow,
In vain earth spreads her charms below,
Confiding in himself to rise,
He hurls defiance to the skies,
And steel'd in dire and impious deeds
Blasphemes his feeder whilst he feeds.
But chiefly Love, Love far off fly,
Nor interrupt my privacy;
'Tis not for thee, capricious pow'r,
Weak tyrant of a feverish hour,
Fickle, and ever in extremes,
My radiant day of reason beams,
And sober Contemplation's ear
Disdains thy syren song to hear,
Speed thee on changeful wings away,
To where thy willing slaves obey,
Go herd amongst thy wonted train,
The false, th' inconstant, lewd and vain:
Thou hast no subject here, begone;
Contemplation comes anon.
Hood-wink'd Superstition dire:
Zeal that clanks her iron bands,
And bathes in blood her ruthless hands;
Far hence, Hypocrisy, away,
With pious semblance to betray,
Whose angel outside fair, contains
A heart corrupt, and foul with stains;
Ambition mad, that stems alone
The boistrous surge, with bladders blown;
Anger, with wild disorder'd pace;
And Malice pale of famish'd face;
Loud-tongued Clamour, get thee far
Hence, to wrangle at the bar;
With opening mouths vain Rumour hung;
And falsehood with her serpent tongue;
Revenge, her bloodshot eyes on fire,
And hissing Envy's snaky tire;
With Jealousy, the fiend most fell
Who bears about his inmate hell,
Now far apart with haggard mien
To lone Suspicion list'ning seen,
Now in a gloomy band appears
Of sallow doubts, and pale-eyed fears,
Whom dire Remorse of giant kind
Pursues with scorpion lash behind;
And thou Self-love, who tak'st from earth,
With the vile crawling worm, thy birth,
Untouch'd with others' joy or pain,
The social smile, the tear humane,
Thyself thy sole intemperate guest,
Uncall'd thy neighbour to the feast,
As if heaven's universal heir
'Twas thine to seize and not to share:
With these away, base wretch accurst,
By pride begot, by madness nurst,
Impiety! of hard'ned mind,
Gross, dull, presuming, stubborn, blind,
Unmov'd amidst this mighty all,
Deaf to the universal call:
In vain above the systems glow,
In vain earth spreads her charms below,
Confiding in himself to rise,
He hurls defiance to the skies,
And steel'd in dire and impious deeds
Blasphemes his feeder whilst he feeds.
But chiefly Love, Love far off fly,
Nor interrupt my privacy;
'Tis not for thee, capricious pow'r,
Weak tyrant of a feverish hour,
39
My radiant day of reason beams,
And sober Contemplation's ear
Disdains thy syren song to hear,
Speed thee on changeful wings away,
To where thy willing slaves obey,
Go herd amongst thy wonted train,
The false, th' inconstant, lewd and vain:
Thou hast no subject here, begone;
Contemplation comes anon.
Above, below, and all around,
Now nought but awful quiet's found,
The feeling air forgets to move,
No zephyr stirs the leafy grove,
The gentlest murmur of the rill
Struck by the potent charm is still,
Each passion in this troubled breast
So toiling once lies hush'd to rest,
Whate'er man's bustling race employs,
His cares, his hopes, his fears, his joys,
Ambition, pleasure, interest, fame,
Each nothing of important name,
Ye tyrants of this restless ball,
This grove annihilates you all.
Oh power unseen, yet felt, appear!
Sure something more than nature's here.
Now nought but awful quiet's found,
The feeling air forgets to move,
No zephyr stirs the leafy grove,
The gentlest murmur of the rill
Struck by the potent charm is still,
Each passion in this troubled breast
So toiling once lies hush'd to rest,
Whate'er man's bustling race employs,
His cares, his hopes, his fears, his joys,
Ambition, pleasure, interest, fame,
Each nothing of important name,
Ye tyrants of this restless ball,
This grove annihilates you all.
Oh power unseen, yet felt, appear!
Sure something more than nature's here.
Now on the flow'ring turf I lie,
My soul conversing with the sky.
Far lost in the bewild'ring dream
I wander o'er each lofty theme;
Tour on Inquiry's wings on high,
And soar the heights of Deity:
Fain would I search the perfect laws
That constant bind th' unerring cause,
Why all its children, born to share
Alike a father's equal care:
Some weep by partial Fate undone,
The ravish'd portion of a son;
Whilst he whose swelling cup o'erflows,
Heeds not his suff'ring brother's woes;
The good, their virtues all forgot,
Mourn need severe, their destined lot;
While Vice, invited by the great,
Feasts under canopies of state.
Ah! when we see the bad preferred,
Was it eternal justice erred?
Or, when the good could not prevail,
How could almighty prowess fail?
When, underneath the oppressor's blow,
Afflicted innocence lies low,
Has not the all-seeing eye beheld?
Or has a stronger arm repelled?
When death dissolves this brittle frame,
Lies ever quenched the soul's bright flame?
Or shall the etherial breath of day
Relume once more this living ray?
From life escape we all in vain?
Heaven finds its creature out again,
Again its captive to control,
And drive him to another goal.
When Time shall let his curtain fall,
Must dreary Nothing swallow all?
Must we the unfinished piece deplore,
Ere half the pompous piece be o'er?
In his all-comprehensive mind,
Shall not the Almighty Poet find
Some reconciling turn of fate
To make his wond'rous work complete,
To finish fair his mingled plan,
And justify his ways to man?
But who shall draw these veils that lie
Unpierced by the keen cherub's eye?
Cease, cease, the daring flight give o'er,
Thine to submit and to adore.
Learn then: into thyself descend,
To know thy being's use and end,
For thee what nature's kind intent,
Or on what fatal journey bent.
Is mean self-love the only guide?
Must all be sacrificed to pride?
What sacred fountains then supply
The feeling heart and melting eye?
Why does the pleading look disarm
The hand of rage with slaughter warm?
Or in the battle's generous strife,
Does Britain quell the lust of life?
Next the bold inquiry tries,
To trace our various passions' rise;
This moment hope exalts the breast,
The next it sinks by fear deprest;
Now fierce the storms of wrath begin,
Now all is holy calm within.
What strikes ambition's stubborn springs,
What moves compassion's softer strings;
How we in constant friendships join,
How in constant hates combine;
How nature, for her favourite man,
Unfolds the wonders of her plan;
How, fond to treat her chosen guest,
Provides for every sense a feast;
Gives to the wide excursive eye
The radiant glories of the sky;
Or bids each odorous bloom exhale
His soul, to enrich the balmy gale;
Or pour upon the enchanted ear
The music of the opening year;
Or bids the limpid fountain burst,
Friendly to life, and cool to thirst;
What arts the beauteous dame employs
To lead us on to genial joys,
When in her specious work we join
To propagate her fair design,
The virgin face divine appears
In bloom of youth and prime of years,
And ere the destined heart's aware,
Fixes Monimia's image there.
My soul conversing with the sky.
Far lost in the bewild'ring dream
I wander o'er each lofty theme;
Tour on Inquiry's wings on high,
And soar the heights of Deity:
Fain would I search the perfect laws
That constant bind th' unerring cause,
Why all its children, born to share
Alike a father's equal care:
Some weep by partial Fate undone,
The ravish'd portion of a son;
Whilst he whose swelling cup o'erflows,
Heeds not his suff'ring brother's woes;
The good, their virtues all forgot,
Mourn need severe, their destined lot;
While Vice, invited by the great,
Feasts under canopies of state.
Ah! when we see the bad preferred,
Was it eternal justice erred?
Or, when the good could not prevail,
How could almighty prowess fail?
When, underneath the oppressor's blow,
Afflicted innocence lies low,
40
Or has a stronger arm repelled?
When death dissolves this brittle frame,
Lies ever quenched the soul's bright flame?
Or shall the etherial breath of day
Relume once more this living ray?
From life escape we all in vain?
Heaven finds its creature out again,
Again its captive to control,
And drive him to another goal.
When Time shall let his curtain fall,
Must dreary Nothing swallow all?
Must we the unfinished piece deplore,
Ere half the pompous piece be o'er?
In his all-comprehensive mind,
Shall not the Almighty Poet find
Some reconciling turn of fate
To make his wond'rous work complete,
To finish fair his mingled plan,
And justify his ways to man?
But who shall draw these veils that lie
Unpierced by the keen cherub's eye?
Cease, cease, the daring flight give o'er,
Thine to submit and to adore.
Learn then: into thyself descend,
To know thy being's use and end,
For thee what nature's kind intent,
Or on what fatal journey bent.
Is mean self-love the only guide?
Must all be sacrificed to pride?
What sacred fountains then supply
The feeling heart and melting eye?
Why does the pleading look disarm
The hand of rage with slaughter warm?
Or in the battle's generous strife,
Does Britain quell the lust of life?
Next the bold inquiry tries,
To trace our various passions' rise;
This moment hope exalts the breast,
The next it sinks by fear deprest;
Now fierce the storms of wrath begin,
Now all is holy calm within.
What strikes ambition's stubborn springs,
What moves compassion's softer strings;
How we in constant friendships join,
How in constant hates combine;
How nature, for her favourite man,
Unfolds the wonders of her plan;
How, fond to treat her chosen guest,
Provides for every sense a feast;
41
The radiant glories of the sky;
Or bids each odorous bloom exhale
His soul, to enrich the balmy gale;
Or pour upon the enchanted ear
The music of the opening year;
Or bids the limpid fountain burst,
Friendly to life, and cool to thirst;
What arts the beauteous dame employs
To lead us on to genial joys,
When in her specious work we join
To propagate her fair design,
The virgin face divine appears
In bloom of youth and prime of years,
And ere the destined heart's aware,
Fixes Monimia's image there.
Ah me! what helpless have I said?
Unhappy by myself betrayed!
I deemed, but, ah! I deemed in vain,
From the dear image to refrain;
For when I fixed my musing thought,
Far on solemn views remote;
When wandering in the uncertain round
Of mazy doubt, no end I found;
O, my unblest and erring feet!
What most I sought to shun, ye meet.
Come then, my serious maid, again:
Come and try another strain;
Come and nature's dome explore,
Where dwells retired the matron hoar;
There her wondrous works survey,
And drive the intruder Love away.
Unhappy by myself betrayed!
I deemed, but, ah! I deemed in vain,
From the dear image to refrain;
For when I fixed my musing thought,
Far on solemn views remote;
When wandering in the uncertain round
Of mazy doubt, no end I found;
O, my unblest and erring feet!
What most I sought to shun, ye meet.
Come then, my serious maid, again:
Come and try another strain;
Come and nature's dome explore,
Where dwells retired the matron hoar;
There her wondrous works survey,
And drive the intruder Love away.
'Tis done. Ascending heaven's height,
Contemplation take thy flight:
Behold the sun, through heaven's wide space,
Strong as a giant, run his race:
Behold the moon exert her light,
As blushing bride on her love-night:
Behold the sister starry train,
Her bridemaids, mount the azure plain.
See where the snows their treasures keep;
The chambers where the loud winds sleep;
Where the collected rains abide
Till heaven set all its windows wide,
Precipitate from high to pour,
And drown in violence of shower:
Or, gently strained, they wash the earth,
And give the tender fruits a birth.
See where thunder springs his mine;
Where the paths of lightning shine.
Or, tired those heights still to pursue,
From heaven descending with the dew,
That soft impregns the youthful mead,
Where thousand flowers exalt the head,
Mark how nature's hand bestows
Abundant grace on all that grows,
Tinges, with pencil slow unseen,
The grass that clothes the valley green;
Or spread the tulip's parted streaks,
Or sanguine dyes the rose's cheeks,
Or points with light Monimia's eyes,
And forms her bosom's beauteous rise.
Contemplation take thy flight:
Behold the sun, through heaven's wide space,
Strong as a giant, run his race:
Behold the moon exert her light,
As blushing bride on her love-night:
Behold the sister starry train,
Her bridemaids, mount the azure plain.
See where the snows their treasures keep;
The chambers where the loud winds sleep;
Where the collected rains abide
Till heaven set all its windows wide,
Precipitate from high to pour,
And drown in violence of shower:
Or, gently strained, they wash the earth,
And give the tender fruits a birth.
See where thunder springs his mine;
Where the paths of lightning shine.
42
From heaven descending with the dew,
That soft impregns the youthful mead,
Where thousand flowers exalt the head,
Mark how nature's hand bestows
Abundant grace on all that grows,
Tinges, with pencil slow unseen,
The grass that clothes the valley green;
Or spread the tulip's parted streaks,
Or sanguine dyes the rose's cheeks,
Or points with light Monimia's eyes,
And forms her bosom's beauteous rise.
Ah! haunting spirit, art thou there?
Forbidden in these walks to appear.
I thought, O love! thou would'st disdain
To mix with wisdom's black, staid train;
But when my curious searching look
A nice survey of nature took,
Well pleased, the matron set to show
Her mistress' work on earth below.
Then fruitless knowledge turn aside;
What other art remains untried
This load of anguish to remove,
And heal the cruel wounds of love?
To friendship's sacred force apply,
That source of tenderness and joy—
A joy no anxious fears profane—
A tenderness that feels no pain:
Friendships shall all these ills appease,
And give the tortured mourner ease.
The indissoluble tie that binds,
In equal chains, two sister minds;
Not such as servile interests choose,
From partial ends and sordid views;
Nor when the midnight banquet fires
The choice of wine-inflamed desires,
When the short fellowships proceed
From casual mirth and wicked deed,
Till the next morn estranges quite
The partners of one guilty night;
But such as judgment long has weighed,
And years of faithfulness have tried;
Whose tender mind is framed to share
The equal portion of my care;
Whose thoughts my happiness employs
Sincere, who triumphs in my joys;
With whom in raptures I may stray,
Through study's long and pathless way;
Obscurely blest in joys—alone—
To the excluded world unknown.
Forsook, the weak fantastic train
Of flattery, mirth, all false and vain;
On whose soft and gentle breast
My weary soul may take her rest,
While the still tender look and kind,
Fair springing from the spotless mind,
My perfected delights insure
To last immortal, free and pure.
Grant, heaven—if heaven means bliss for me—
Monimia such, and long may be!
Forbidden in these walks to appear.
I thought, O love! thou would'st disdain
To mix with wisdom's black, staid train;
But when my curious searching look
A nice survey of nature took,
Well pleased, the matron set to show
Her mistress' work on earth below.
Then fruitless knowledge turn aside;
What other art remains untried
This load of anguish to remove,
And heal the cruel wounds of love?
To friendship's sacred force apply,
That source of tenderness and joy—
A joy no anxious fears profane—
A tenderness that feels no pain:
Friendships shall all these ills appease,
And give the tortured mourner ease.
The indissoluble tie that binds,
In equal chains, two sister minds;
Not such as servile interests choose,
From partial ends and sordid views;
Nor when the midnight banquet fires
The choice of wine-inflamed desires,
When the short fellowships proceed
From casual mirth and wicked deed,
Till the next morn estranges quite
The partners of one guilty night;
But such as judgment long has weighed,
And years of faithfulness have tried;
Whose tender mind is framed to share
The equal portion of my care;
Whose thoughts my happiness employs
Sincere, who triumphs in my joys;
With whom in raptures I may stray,
Through study's long and pathless way;
Obscurely blest in joys—alone—
To the excluded world unknown.
43
Of flattery, mirth, all false and vain;
On whose soft and gentle breast
My weary soul may take her rest,
While the still tender look and kind,
Fair springing from the spotless mind,
My perfected delights insure
To last immortal, free and pure.
Grant, heaven—if heaven means bliss for me—
Monimia such, and long may be!
Here, here again! how just my fear!
Love ever finds admittance here;
The cruel sprite, intent on harm,
Has quite dissolved the feeble charm;
Assuming friendship's saintly guise,
Has passed the cheated sentry's eyes,
And once attained his hellish end,
Displays the undissembled fiend.
O say, my faithful fair ally!
How did'st thou let the traitor by?
I from the desert bade thee come,
Invoked thee from thy peaceful home,
More to sublime my solemn hour,
And curse this demon's fatal power;
Lo! by superior force opprest,
Thou these three several times hast blest.
Shall we the magic rites pursue,
When Love is mightier far than thou?
Yes, come, in blest enchantment skilled,
Another altar let us build;
Go forth as wont, and try to find
Where'er devotion lies reclined;
Thou her fair friend, by heaven's decree,
Art one with her, and she with thee.
Love ever finds admittance here;
The cruel sprite, intent on harm,
Has quite dissolved the feeble charm;
Assuming friendship's saintly guise,
Has passed the cheated sentry's eyes,
And once attained his hellish end,
Displays the undissembled fiend.
O say, my faithful fair ally!
How did'st thou let the traitor by?
I from the desert bade thee come,
Invoked thee from thy peaceful home,
More to sublime my solemn hour,
And curse this demon's fatal power;
Lo! by superior force opprest,
Thou these three several times hast blest.
Shall we the magic rites pursue,
When Love is mightier far than thou?
Yes, come, in blest enchantment skilled,
Another altar let us build;
Go forth as wont, and try to find
Where'er devotion lies reclined;
Thou her fair friend, by heaven's decree,
Art one with her, and she with thee.
Devotion come with sober pace,
Full of thought and full of grace;
While humbled on the earth I lie,
Wrapt in the vision of the sky,
To noble heights and solemn views
Wing my heaven-aspiring muse;
Teach me to scorn, by thee refined,
The low delights of human kind:
Sure thine to put to flight the boy
Of laughter, sport, and idle joy.
O plant these guarded groves about,
And keep the treacherous felon out!
Full of thought and full of grace;
While humbled on the earth I lie,
Wrapt in the vision of the sky,
To noble heights and solemn views
Wing my heaven-aspiring muse;
Teach me to scorn, by thee refined,
The low delights of human kind:
Sure thine to put to flight the boy
Of laughter, sport, and idle joy.
O plant these guarded groves about,
And keep the treacherous felon out!
Now, see! the spreading gates unfold,
Displayed the sacred leaves of gold.
Let me with holy awe repair
To the solemn house of prayer;
And as I go, O thou, my heart,
Forget each low and earthly part:
Religion enter in my breast,
A mild and venerable guest!
Put off, in contemplation drowned,
Eeach thought impure in holy ground,
And cautious tread, with awful fear,
The courts of heaven—for God is here.
Now my grateful voice I raise:
Ye angels swell a mortal's praise,
To charm with your own harmony
The ear of Him who sits on high!
Grant me, propitious heavenly Power,
Whose love benign we feel each hour,
An equal lot on earth to share,
Nor rich, nor poor, my humble prayer,
Lest I forget, exalted proud,
The hand supreme that gave the good;
Lest want o'er virtue should prevail,
And I put forth my hand and steal:
But if thy sovereign will shall grant
The wealth I neither ask nor want—
May I the widow's need supply,
And wipe the tear from sorrow's eye;
May the weary wanderer's feet
From me a blest reception meet!
But if contempt and low estate
Be the assignment of my fate,
O, may no hope of gain entice
To tread the green broad path of vice!
And, bounteous, O vouchsafe to clear
The errors of a mind sincere.
Illumine thou my searching mind,
Groping after truth and blind.
With stores of science be it fraught
That bards have dreamed, or sages taught;
And, chief, the heaven-born strain impart,
A muse according to thy heart;
That, wrapt in sacred ecstasy,
I may sing and sing of thee:
Mankind instructing in thy laws,
Blest poet in fair virtue's cause,
Her former merit to restore,
And make mankind again adore,
As when conversant with the great,
She fixed in palaces her seat.
Before her all-revealing ray
Each sordid passion should decay:
Ambition shuns the dreaded dame,
And pales his ineffectual flame;
Wealth sighs her triumphs to behold,
And offers all his sums of gold;
She in her chariot seen to ride,
A noble train attend her side:
A cherub first, in prime of years,
The champion Fortitude appears;
Next Temperance, sober mistress, seen
With look composed, and cheerful mien;
Calm Patience, still victorious found,
With never-fading glories crowned;
Firm Justice last the balance rears,
The good man's praise, the bad man's fears;
While chief in beauty as in place,
She charms with dear Monimia's grace.
Displayed the sacred leaves of gold.
44
To the solemn house of prayer;
And as I go, O thou, my heart,
Forget each low and earthly part:
Religion enter in my breast,
A mild and venerable guest!
Put off, in contemplation drowned,
Eeach thought impure in holy ground,
And cautious tread, with awful fear,
The courts of heaven—for God is here.
Now my grateful voice I raise:
Ye angels swell a mortal's praise,
To charm with your own harmony
The ear of Him who sits on high!
Grant me, propitious heavenly Power,
Whose love benign we feel each hour,
An equal lot on earth to share,
Nor rich, nor poor, my humble prayer,
Lest I forget, exalted proud,
The hand supreme that gave the good;
Lest want o'er virtue should prevail,
And I put forth my hand and steal:
But if thy sovereign will shall grant
The wealth I neither ask nor want—
May I the widow's need supply,
And wipe the tear from sorrow's eye;
May the weary wanderer's feet
From me a blest reception meet!
But if contempt and low estate
Be the assignment of my fate,
O, may no hope of gain entice
To tread the green broad path of vice!
And, bounteous, O vouchsafe to clear
The errors of a mind sincere.
Illumine thou my searching mind,
Groping after truth and blind.
With stores of science be it fraught
That bards have dreamed, or sages taught;
And, chief, the heaven-born strain impart,
A muse according to thy heart;
That, wrapt in sacred ecstasy,
I may sing and sing of thee:
Mankind instructing in thy laws,
Blest poet in fair virtue's cause,
Her former merit to restore,
And make mankind again adore,
As when conversant with the great,
She fixed in palaces her seat.
Before her all-revealing ray
Each sordid passion should decay:
45
And pales his ineffectual flame;
Wealth sighs her triumphs to behold,
And offers all his sums of gold;
She in her chariot seen to ride,
A noble train attend her side:
A cherub first, in prime of years,
The champion Fortitude appears;
Next Temperance, sober mistress, seen
With look composed, and cheerful mien;
Calm Patience, still victorious found,
With never-fading glories crowned;
Firm Justice last the balance rears,
The good man's praise, the bad man's fears;
While chief in beauty as in place,
She charms with dear Monimia's grace.
Monimia still! here once again!
O fatal name! O dubious strain!
Say, heaven-born virtue, power divine,
Are all these various movements thine?
Was it thy triumphs, sole inspired
My soul, to holy transports fired?
Or say, do springs less sacred move?
Ah! much, I fear, 'tis human love.
Alas! the noble strife is o'er,
The blissful visions charm no more;
Far off the glorious rapture flown,
Monimia rages here alone.
In vain, love's fugitive, I try
From the commanding power to fly;
Though grace was dawning on my soul,
Possessed by heaven sincere and whole,
Yet still in fancy's painted cells
The soul-inflaming image dwells.
Why didst thou, cruel love, again
Thus drag me back to earth and pain?
Well hoped I, love, thou would'st retire
Before the blest Jessean lyre.
Devotion's harp would charm to rest
The evil spirit in my breast;
But the deaf adder fell disdains,
Unlist'ning to the chanter's strains.
O fatal name! O dubious strain!
Say, heaven-born virtue, power divine,
Are all these various movements thine?
Was it thy triumphs, sole inspired
My soul, to holy transports fired?
Or say, do springs less sacred move?
Ah! much, I fear, 'tis human love.
Alas! the noble strife is o'er,
The blissful visions charm no more;
Far off the glorious rapture flown,
Monimia rages here alone.
In vain, love's fugitive, I try
From the commanding power to fly;
Though grace was dawning on my soul,
Possessed by heaven sincere and whole,
Yet still in fancy's painted cells
The soul-inflaming image dwells.
Why didst thou, cruel love, again
Thus drag me back to earth and pain?
Well hoped I, love, thou would'st retire
Before the blest Jessean lyre.
Devotion's harp would charm to rest
The evil spirit in my breast;
But the deaf adder fell disdains,
Unlist'ning to the chanter's strains.
Contemplation, baffled maid!
Remains there yet no other aid?
Helpless and weary, must thou yield
To love supreme in every field?
Let melancholy last engage,
Rev'rend, hoary-mantled sage.
Sure, at his sable flag's display,
Love's idle troop will flit away;
And bring with him his due compeer,
Silence, sad, forlorn, and drear.
Remains there yet no other aid?
Helpless and weary, must thou yield
To love supreme in every field?
Let melancholy last engage,
Rev'rend, hoary-mantled sage.
46
Love's idle troop will flit away;
And bring with him his due compeer,
Silence, sad, forlorn, and drear.
Haste thee, Silence, haste and go,
To search the gloomy world below.
My trembling steps, O sybil, lead
Through the dominions of the dead;
Where Care, enjoying soft repose,
Lays down the burden of his woes;
Where meritorious Want no more
Shivering begs at Grandeur's door;
Unconscious Grandeur, sealed his eyes
On the mouldering purple lies.
In the dim and dreary round,
Speech in eternal chains lies bound.
And see a tomb, its gates displayed,
Expands an everlasting shade.
O, ye inhabitants that dwell
Each forgotten in your cell,
O say, for whom of human race
Has fate decreed this hiding place?
To search the gloomy world below.
My trembling steps, O sybil, lead
Through the dominions of the dead;
Where Care, enjoying soft repose,
Lays down the burden of his woes;
Where meritorious Want no more
Shivering begs at Grandeur's door;
Unconscious Grandeur, sealed his eyes
On the mouldering purple lies.
In the dim and dreary round,
Speech in eternal chains lies bound.
And see a tomb, its gates displayed,
Expands an everlasting shade.
O, ye inhabitants that dwell
Each forgotten in your cell,
O say, for whom of human race
Has fate decreed this hiding place?
And hark! methinks a spirit calls,
Low winds the whisper round the walls;
A voice, the sluggish air that breaks,
Solemn amid the silence speaks.
Mistaken man, thou seek'st to know
What known will but afflict with woe;
There thy Monimia shall abide,
With the pale bridegroom rest a bride;
The wan assistants there shall lay,
In weeds of death, her beauteous clay.
Low winds the whisper round the walls;
A voice, the sluggish air that breaks,
Solemn amid the silence speaks.
Mistaken man, thou seek'st to know
What known will but afflict with woe;
There thy Monimia shall abide,
With the pale bridegroom rest a bride;
The wan assistants there shall lay,
In weeds of death, her beauteous clay.
O words of woe! what do I hear?
What sounds invade a lover's ear?
Must then thy charms, my anxious care,
The fate of vulgar beauty share?
Good heaven retard (for thine the power)
The wheels of time, that roll the hour.
What sounds invade a lover's ear?
Must then thy charms, my anxious care,
The fate of vulgar beauty share?
Good heaven retard (for thine the power)
The wheels of time, that roll the hour.
Yet, ah! why swells my breast with fears?
Why start the interdicted tears?
Love, dost thou tempt again? depart,
Thou devil, cast out from my heart.
Sad I forsook the feast, the ball,
The sunny bower and lofty hall,
And sought the dungeon of despair;
Yet thou overtakest me there.
How little dreamed I thee to find
In this lone state of human kind!
Nor melancholy can prevail,
The direful deed, nor dismal tale.
Hoped I for these thou would'st remove?
How near akin is grief to love!
Then no more I strive to shun
Love's chains. O heaven, thy will be done!
The best physician here I find,
To cure a sore diseased mind,
For soon this venerable gloom
Will yield a weary sufferer room;
No more a slave to love decreed—
At ease and free among the dead.
Come then, ye tears, ne'er cease to flow
In full satiety of woe:
Though now the maid my heart alarms,
Severe and mighty in her charms,
Doomed to obey, in bondage prest,
The tyrant Love's commands unblest;
Pass but some fleeting moments o'er,
This rebel heart shall beat no more;
Then from my dark and closing eye
The form beloved shall ever fly.
The tyranny of love shall cease,
Both laid down to sleep in peace;
To share alike our mortal lot,
Her beauties and my cares forgot.
Why start the interdicted tears?
Love, dost thou tempt again? depart,
Thou devil, cast out from my heart.
Sad I forsook the feast, the ball,
The sunny bower and lofty hall,
And sought the dungeon of despair;
Yet thou overtakest me there.
How little dreamed I thee to find
In this lone state of human kind!
Nor melancholy can prevail,
The direful deed, nor dismal tale.
47
How near akin is grief to love!
Then no more I strive to shun
Love's chains. O heaven, thy will be done!
The best physician here I find,
To cure a sore diseased mind,
For soon this venerable gloom
Will yield a weary sufferer room;
No more a slave to love decreed—
At ease and free among the dead.
Come then, ye tears, ne'er cease to flow
In full satiety of woe:
Though now the maid my heart alarms,
Severe and mighty in her charms,
Doomed to obey, in bondage prest,
The tyrant Love's commands unblest;
Pass but some fleeting moments o'er,
This rebel heart shall beat no more;
Then from my dark and closing eye
The form beloved shall ever fly.
The tyranny of love shall cease,
Both laid down to sleep in peace;
To share alike our mortal lot,
Her beauties and my cares forgot.
| The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour | |