The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston ... The Sixth edition |
 |
 |
| 1. |
| 2. |
|
The Contrast revers'd, and set in a true Light. |
|
 | The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston |  |
The Contrast revers'd, and set in a true Light.
Fam'd were the Bards of old, untainted days!
When only merit felt the breath of praise;
When truth in Muses taught the tuneful lay,
The brave to honour, and the good display,
Virtue's fair form, though hid in rags, to sing,
And loath the baneful Court, and sinful King.
When only merit felt the breath of praise;
When truth in Muses taught the tuneful lay,
The brave to honour, and the good display,
Virtue's fair form, though hid in rags, to sing,
And loath the baneful Court, and sinful King.
But now, sad change! no more the Poet's theme
Taste thy chaste waters, Hippocrene's stream.
His breast no more the sacred Sisters urge,
Of truth the patrons, and of vice the scourge:
Venal, he seeks the court, and shuns the lawn,
On pride to flatter, and on pow'r to fawn;
Pour forth his incense at the courtier's shrine,
And raise Haplestian race to race divine.
He, who would toil in honour's arduous brake,
Must virtue seek alone, for virtue's sake;
For now to merit are unwonted things,
The breaths of Poets, and the smiles of Kings.
Taste thy chaste waters, Hippocrene's stream.
222
Of truth the patrons, and of vice the scourge:
Venal, he seeks the court, and shuns the lawn,
On pride to flatter, and on pow'r to fawn;
Pour forth his incense at the courtier's shrine,
And raise Haplestian race to race divine.
He, who would toil in honour's arduous brake,
Must virtue seek alone, for virtue's sake;
For now to merit are unwonted things,
The breaths of Poets, and the smiles of Kings.
See, where the rhyming throng on Sanguar wait,
And patch up ev'ry worth to make him great;
Sing how he triumph'd on Clinizia's green,
And how his mind is lovely as his mien!
Call ancient heroes from their seats of joy,
To see their fame outshadow'd by a boy!
Rob ev'ry urn and ev'ry page explore,
And tell how Cæsar's deeds are deeds no more!
No more shall guide the war, nor fire the song,
But Sanguar be the theme of ev'ry tongue!
While Haplest King's Gradana's throne shall grace,
And Strutter's virtue live in Strutter's race!
And patch up ev'ry worth to make him great;
Sing how he triumph'd on Clinizia's green,
And how his mind is lovely as his mien!
Call ancient heroes from their seats of joy,
To see their fame outshadow'd by a boy!
Rob ev'ry urn and ev'ry page explore,
And tell how Cæsar's deeds are deeds no more!
No more shall guide the war, nor fire the song,
But Sanguar be the theme of ev'ry tongue!
While Haplest King's Gradana's throne shall grace,
And Strutter's virtue live in Strutter's race!
Such is the theme the flatt'ring songsters chuse,
And, oh! how worthy of the theme the Muse!
While, lo! a Youth arises in the North,
Of royal virtues as of royal Birth;
Of worth, which, in the dawn of ages shewn,
Without the Claim of Right, had gain'd a throne.
Though in him ev'ry grace and glory join,
To add new lustre to Econom's line;
Though vict'ry makes the brave Alex her care,
No Bard attends on his triumphal chair:
On firmer base he builds his sure applause,
Recover'd freedom and protected laws.
And, oh! how worthy of the theme the Muse!
While, lo! a Youth arises in the North,
Of royal virtues as of royal Birth;
Of worth, which, in the dawn of ages shewn,
Without the Claim of Right, had gain'd a throne.
Though in him ev'ry grace and glory join,
To add new lustre to Econom's line;
Though vict'ry makes the brave Alex her care,
No Bard attends on his triumphal chair:
On firmer base he builds his sure applause,
Recover'd freedom and protected laws.
223
Say, Robust, say; for thou must surely know,
Thou felt'st the rapture, and thou feel'st the woe;
Say, when he trod upon the kindly earth,
The genial soil which gave his fathers birth;
Did not his out-stretch'd arm with bounty spread
Paternal blessings on thy children's head;
Hush them to peace amidst the din of war,
And still the matron's sighs and virgin's fear!
Bid peaceful plenty wave along the plain,
The untouch'd harvest of the golden grain?
Did not the Youth, enliven'd with his flame,
Glow for the sight, and, ardent, pant for fame?
Strove not each rev'rend sage and hoary sire
His worth to honour, and his sense admire?
Did not his form, with ev'ry beauty grac'd,
Raise a chaste rapture in each virgin's breast?
Thou felt'st the rapture, and thou feel'st the woe;
Say, when he trod upon the kindly earth,
The genial soil which gave his fathers birth;
Did not his out-stretch'd arm with bounty spread
Paternal blessings on thy children's head;
Hush them to peace amidst the din of war,
And still the matron's sighs and virgin's fear!
Bid peaceful plenty wave along the plain,
The untouch'd harvest of the golden grain?
Did not the Youth, enliven'd with his flame,
Glow for the sight, and, ardent, pant for fame?
Strove not each rev'rend sage and hoary sire
His worth to honour, and his sense admire?
Did not his form, with ev'ry beauty grac'd,
Raise a chaste rapture in each virgin's breast?
But when he quits the scene of soft delight,
The graceful measure for the deathful fight,
Say, saw thy plains, (where many a deathless name,
Where Cord, where Magnus, fought their way to fame;
Where Valor, race heroic! nobly rose,
Secur'd thy freedom, and expell'd thy foes);
Saw they e'er one, amongst the chieftain throng,
So ripe in glory, and in years so young?
Whose pride not more to vanquish than to save,
In conquest gentle as in action brave;
Like Philip's son, victorious in the course,
With skill superior and inferior force.
Like Xenophon, secure 'midst hostile bands,
He led his glorious few from distant lands;
And join'd to sense of head the fire of heart,
Of one the courage, and of one the art.
The graceful measure for the deathful fight,
Say, saw thy plains, (where many a deathless name,
Where Cord, where Magnus, fought their way to fame;
Where Valor, race heroic! nobly rose,
Secur'd thy freedom, and expell'd thy foes);
Saw they e'er one, amongst the chieftain throng,
So ripe in glory, and in years so young?
Whose pride not more to vanquish than to save,
In conquest gentle as in action brave;
Like Philip's son, victorious in the course,
With skill superior and inferior force.
Like Xenophon, secure 'midst hostile bands,
He led his glorious few from distant lands;
And join'd to sense of head the fire of heart,
Of one the courage, and of one the art.
While virtue lives, while honour has a name,
While arts heroic fill the rolls of fame,
First in the lists shall Gladan have a place,
And Falcan-field mark, Avar, thy disgrace.
While arts heroic fill the rolls of fame,
224
And Falcan-field mark, Avar, thy disgrace.
Now, change the scene, and shew the sad reverse,
Where winter-blasts th'autumual smiles disperse;
Where the fierce Cataphage directs the storm,
And Avar joys his mandates to perform;
To whom compar'd a Hero's name is sweet,
In whom the Tyrant and the Tyger met.
Where winter-blasts th'autumual smiles disperse;
Where the fierce Cataphage directs the storm,
And Avar joys his mandates to perform;
To whom compar'd a Hero's name is sweet,
In whom the Tyrant and the Tyger met.
See, through the land how hostile fury burns,
And peopl'd vales to rueful desarts turns!
See how the smoaking country round thee groans,
Invokes in vain thy desolated towns!
See age, unreverenc'd, dragg'd from peaceful ease,
And join'd in dreary jails to loath'd disease!
Before their Sires see ravish'd Maids complain,
And raise their beauteous eyes to Heav'n in vain!
Oh, more than savage! who pursue their rage
On bloom of beauty and the hoar of age!
And peopl'd vales to rueful desarts turns!
See how the smoaking country round thee groans,
Invokes in vain thy desolated towns!
See age, unreverenc'd, dragg'd from peaceful ease,
And join'd in dreary jails to loath'd disease!
Before their Sires see ravish'd Maids complain,
And raise their beauteous eyes to Heav'n in vain!
Oh, more than savage! who pursue their rage
On bloom of beauty and the hoar of age!
And, what exploits exalt this Hero's praise?
Where spring the laurels which your Poets raise?
Spring they from conquest o'er the village tame,
The Sire enfeebled and the aged Dame?
Where spring the laurels which your Poets raise?
Spring they from conquest o'er the village tame,
The Sire enfeebled and the aged Dame?
View well this sketch, and say, of which the face
Presents the rightful mark of Robust's race;
He who would save thee from destruction's thrust,
Or he who lays thy beauties in the dust?
Presents the rightful mark of Robust's race;
He who would save thee from destruction's thrust,
Or he who lays thy beauties in the dust?
So judg'd of old the good King David's heir,
With nice discernment, the deserving Fair,
Repuls'd the Dame, who, cruel, would destroy,
And bless'd the feeling Mother with her Boy.
With nice discernment, the deserving Fair,
Repuls'd the Dame, who, cruel, would destroy,
And bless'd the feeling Mother with her Boy.
FINIS.
| The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston | |