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 volume of his poems, and containing several pieces hitherto unpublished; with illustrative notes, and an account of the life of the author.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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HORACE, BOOK II., ODE XVII., IMITATED. |
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 | The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour |  |
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HORACE, BOOK II., ODE XVII., IMITATED.
INSCRIBED TO MR JAMES CRAIG.
I.
Ah! why dost thou my bosom tear,Why vex me with thy friendly fear,
Thy fond complaint give o'er;
Nor heav'n, alas! nor I consent
That thou, my guide and ornament,
Good James, should die before.
II.
If thee, before my destin'd day,A riper fate should snatch away,
My soul's far better portion gone,
Ah, why do I still linger on?
Ah, why the worser part survive,
Not half so dear, nor—all alive?
That day shall ruin bring to both.
I've sworn no false, perfidious oath:
Whenever thou the way shall lead,
We go, we go, prepared to tread
The path that leads to death's secure abode,
And jog companions of the darksome road.
III.
Me from that lov'd companion's sideNo face of danger shall divide;
Should all these hideous forms appear
That fancy e'er begot on fear—
Should weeping children round me fall,
Or faithful spouse, I'd spurn them all:
On, on, behold me fix'd to go,
The pow'rful fates would have it so.
IV.
Whether, propitious at my birth,The balance shone serene on earth,
Or if the scorpion's angry power
Sway'd potent at my natal hour,
Let others judge who read the skies;
Our stars consent in wond'rous wise;
At one appointed hour of fate,
We each escap'd a danger great.
V.
When time that runs with prone career,Whirl'd round thy three-and-sixtieth year,
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Thy genius for his charge afraid,
Studious the moments to prolong,
Shone forth with opposition strong;
Renew'd life's lease (the danger o'er)
For twenty merry winters more.
VI.
That day to me had fatal prov'd;I came, I saw, alas! and lov'd.
Then had I sigh'd in fruitless pain,
A slave for seven long years again,
Had not the Pow'r, a pow'r indeed,
Well known in our poetic creed,
Guardian of us mercurial men,
Who drain the bowl, or dip the pen,
Propitious whisper'd in my ear,
(I hear him yet) rash man forbear;
Leave Jeanie to her knight or peer;
Extinguish thou the ambitious fire,
Nor hope to gain, nor wish to admire;
Be thine life's each familiar end,
A verse, a bottle—or a friend;
The sober Muse's rapturous love,
Kind t' allay, or wise to improve.
Since fate must work its destin'd way,
I heard submissive and obey.
VII.
Then let us pay our vows; for theeThe teeming hogshead sets thee free;
Whose racy womb the harvest yields,
Of sunny Gallia's viny fields.
My humble fortune's shall afford
The bowl with gen'rous spirits stor'd,
That swells, such potent joys it brings,
Beyond the excising pow'r of kings.
Then send the foaming glass about,
We'll see it most devoutly out.
| The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour | |