Poems and Plays by Mr. Jerningham. In Four Volumes ... The Ninth Edition |
 | 1. |
| FOR THE VASE AT BATH EASTON
UPON DREAMS.
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| II. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | Poems and Plays |  |
108
FOR THE VASE AT BATH EASTON UPON DREAMS.
NOVEMBER, 1777.
I.
As Echo's voice returns the pleasing lay,So is a Dream the echo of the day:
The busy thoughts that round some object teem
Oft join in sleep to form the nightly theme;
Then bright-ey'd Fancy lifts her magic wand,
While scenes unreal rise at her command;
Then Comedy, with all her laughing train,
Straight issues from the porch of Comus' fane,
109
Her pranks, her gambols, and her winning smiles,
She bids her merry troop approach the bed,
And beat their airy dance round Anstey's head.
II.
Still when some chosen Fair commands the heart,Gay Fancy acts at night her mimic part:
With skilful hand she decks the living scene,
And ushers to the view the bosom's Queen.
Ye Lovers, answer to the truth I sing;
Say, does not Fancy to your slumber bring,
Dress'd by each grace, in Beauty's best array,
The welcome Fair who charm'd you thro' the day?
Does not her form return to glad the sight,
Like Cynthia bursting thro' the cloud of night?
How pleas'd each well-known feature we descry,
That look of sense—that eloquence of eye!—
110
Steal on our slumber, and enchant the heart.
III.
Sometimes a dream anticipates the date,
Comes as a prophet to reveal our fate:
And thus, ere Yorick sunk into the tomb,
The Priest of sentiment foresaw his doom:
'Twas night—his solitary couch he press'd,
Till sorrow-worn he wearied into rest;
Eliza then soft gliding on his view,
Thus o'er his slumber breath'd her sad adieu:
‘Oh thou, my guardian, confident, and friend,
‘To what thy handmaid now reveals attend:
‘No longer now the gift of Health implore,
‘The curtain drops, and thy short scene is o'er;
‘Yet ere thy feeling spirit takes its flight
‘To yonder regions of celestial light,
‘Some fond endearment to Eliza shew,
‘And thy last blessing on thy Child bestow.’
Comes as a prophet to reveal our fate:
And thus, ere Yorick sunk into the tomb,
The Priest of sentiment foresaw his doom:
'Twas night—his solitary couch he press'd,
Till sorrow-worn he wearied into rest;
Eliza then soft gliding on his view,
Thus o'er his slumber breath'd her sad adieu:
‘Oh thou, my guardian, confident, and friend,
‘To what thy handmaid now reveals attend:
‘No longer now the gift of Health implore,
‘The curtain drops, and thy short scene is o'er;
‘Yet ere thy feeling spirit takes its flight
‘To yonder regions of celestial light,
111
‘And thy last blessing on thy Child bestow.’
The Vision ceas'd—yet then the shaul she spread
,
To raise compassionate his drooping head,
And (from her eyes as beads of sorrow fell)
Low on her knees receiv'd his last farewell.
To raise compassionate his drooping head,
And (from her eyes as beads of sorrow fell)
Low on her knees receiv'd his last farewell.
| Poems and Plays | |