 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
ARDELIA, A POEM.
Address'd to a very agreeable young Lady.
Clio , fair Nymph of heav'nly Race,Declin'd for once her Bard's Embrace,
Like fickle Wantons here below,
Who random Favours wildly shew.
He anxious courted her Return,
But she rejects his Vows with Scorn;
Those Vows which could but ill aspire
When she with-held her heav'nly Fire.
In vain on Fancy he depends,
His heavy Fancy still descends.
The held-up Crown, the mighty Prize,
The Laurel green that never dies,
And all that on Parnassus grows,
Or from Pierian Fountains flows,
The Sons of Phœbus to reward,
And crown the visionary Bard,
At Distance far he faintly views,
Then inward sighs, and blames the Muse:
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In Darkness to what lies behind
The mystic Veil let down by Jove,
To screen his Purposes above,
When dusky Doubts desponding press
From present Ills the future guess,
Dismissing Hope when Succour's near,
They blindly rush upon Despair.
For lo! the Nymph of Form divine,
With Presence sweet and Smiles benign,
His Vows at length propitious hears,
And in a Vision bright appears,
As in a Gloom where Poplars rise,
A gentle Slumber clos'd his Eyes;
Her Shape celestial she displays,
Her radiant Head was crown'd with Bays,
Her Shoulders fledg'd with Purple Wings,
And in one Hand a Laurel springs,
Which she extended held on high,
Emblem of Fame and Victory;
A trembling Lyre the other shews,
Which on her Bard the Muse bestows;
But touching first th'etherial Wire,
Inflam'd his Soul with sacred Fire,
Diffusing Transport through each Part,
And melting Rapture round his Heart.
Descending now with yielding Eye,
And pointing to the Wreath on high,
Behold, she said, ambitious Bard!
The Prize you seek, the rich Reward,
Which shall employ the Trump of Fame
In sounding forth your envy'd Name.
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Are not vouchsaf'd for trivial Sport;
A playful Fancy to employ,
Or glitter on some tinsel Toy:
A Theme distinguish'd I will find
That shall exalt thy ardent Mind,
Where Truth and Genius justly may
Each others Excellence display;
On such Foundations building Praise,
The polish'd Pile secure you'll raise,
Embellish'd high in ev'ry Part
With all the beauteous Strokes of Art,
Where she and Nature both conspire,
And at their own Success admire.
Gross Flatt'ry here can find no Place,
You need but copy ev'ry Grace;
A Nymph with Lineaments divine,
And envy'd by the tuneful Nine;
For sprightly Wit and Genius known,
And Judgment equal to their own;
A Critic nice, but not severe,
A Mind as tender as sincere,
Shall your successful Subject be,
In singing her you're sure of me.
The Graces too shall all attend,
And ev'ry Pow'r thy Verse befriend.
Then happy Bard my Counsel chuse,
Let bright Ardelia be thy Muse.
Her Voice divine still charm'd my Ear,
Ardelia's Form approaches near,
With ev'ry native Beauty bless'd
In Clio's heav'nly Smile confess'd;
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A thousand graceful Charms dlsplay'd,
Such Charms as genuine Raptures give,
And in Reflection's Eye shall live;
Lodg'd in the Soul unmix'd and pure,
Shall lasting as itself endure.
Her outward Charms, her youthful Prime,
May yield at length to rifling Time,
But those within elude his Sway,
And late shall triumph o'er Decay.
If like the Sun she must decline,
Her Ev'ning Rays shall richer shine,
With purple Splendours deck the Sky,
And look more lovely than on high.
Virtue alone such Pow'r displays
When mortal Beauties lose their Blaze.
How happy then th'accomplish'd Maid,
Where Virtue joins in Beauty's Aid!
Where Meekness makes true Merit rise
And heightens Charms it would disguise!
By busy Fancy thus employ'd,
The pleasing Dream I long enjoy'd:
The Vision fled, I waking find
The lovely Image in my Mind.
My kindling Fancy soon took Fire,
I joyful snatch the sounding Lyre,
By Clio's heav'nly Finger strung,
And all th'extatic Vision sung.
Ardelia's Worth demands the Song,
To her my future Strains belong;
For she improves each Line I write,
Her Blots still make my Numbers bright;
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Beneath the Influence of her Eye,
Imbibing thence, as from the Sun,
A Life and Vigour not their own.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |