Poems on Various Subjects with some Essays in Prose, Letters to Correspondents, &c. and A Treatise on Health. By Samuel Bowden |
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
203
VERSES
In Praise of an Eminent Old Speaker Amongst the Quakers,
Remarkable for his Venerable Beard, and Sanctity of Manners.
In thee, O! venerable sage! we find
Simplicity of manners, and of mind:
With grave demeanor, and majestic grace,
A philosophic beard adorns thy face;
Humble deportment, free from pride appears,
And calls for sacred homage to thy years.
Like trees in blossom snowy age has shed
Its hoary honours o'er thy reverend head.
Simplicity of manners, and of mind:
With grave demeanor, and majestic grace,
A philosophic beard adorns thy face;
Humble deportment, free from pride appears,
And calls for sacred homage to thy years.
Like trees in blossom snowy age has shed
Its hoary honours o'er thy reverend head.
Let the vain world external pomp adore,
And worship fools with tinsel varnish'd o'er;
In vain unthinking fops thy garb despise,
Whose merit only in the outside lies;
In vain deride the quaker's simple dress,
What more than nature wants is all excess.
What more than cold requires, or hunger needs,
Only our folly, or our luxury feeds.
Content with little, and with virtue blest,
Vain, and superfluous, is all the rest.
And worship fools with tinsel varnish'd o'er;
In vain unthinking fops thy garb despise,
Whose merit only in the outside lies;
204
What more than nature wants is all excess.
What more than cold requires, or hunger needs,
Only our folly, or our luxury feeds.
Content with little, and with virtue blest,
Vain, and superfluous, is all the rest.
Thy dress is such as cloath'd the antient sage,
And patriarchs wore in the primæval age.
'Twas thus the old philosophers were clad,
E're the vain world grew dissolute and mad.
'Twas thus the Druids liv'd, the Bramins drest,
And all the sapient Magi of the east.
Thus Quintus liv'd, and rigid Cato shin'd,
E'er vice prevail'd, and polish'd Rome declin'd.
Who guided armys, and the truncheon bore,
With the same hand, which held the plough before.
'Twas thus Lycurgus form'd the Spartan state,
Plain in their manners, but in virtue great.
And patriarchs wore in the primæval age.
'Twas thus the old philosophers were clad,
E're the vain world grew dissolute and mad.
'Twas thus the Druids liv'd, the Bramins drest,
And all the sapient Magi of the east.
Thus Quintus liv'd, and rigid Cato shin'd,
E'er vice prevail'd, and polish'd Rome declin'd.
Who guided armys, and the truncheon bore,
With the same hand, which held the plough before.
'Twas thus Lycurgus form'd the Spartan state,
Plain in their manners, but in virtue great.
Adorn'd with wisdom, and with native sense,
Thy tongue displays an artless eloquence.
When truths divine thy hallow'd lips explain,
Attentive crouds oft' listen to thy strain.
Which free from loud, enthusiastic cant,
No impulse feels of rhapsody and rant.
Pleas'd we behold exalted virtue shine,
And in thy doctrine trace the light divine.
Immortal light!—spark of celestial flame,
Angelic ray! that animates our frame;
Whose energy all nature round pervades,
Shines in the stars, and gilds the darkest shades;
That beam, by whose propitious light we fail,
Thro' dim mortality's beclouded vale.
Mistaken wits will oft' its influence slight,
Burlesque the name, and mock the sacred light;
Who at religion laugh, themselves deride,
This light is only reason's sacred guide;
Which bids us all ignoble joys despise,
And like a lamp conducts us to the skys.
Thy tongue displays an artless eloquence.
When truths divine thy hallow'd lips explain,
Attentive crouds oft' listen to thy strain.
Which free from loud, enthusiastic cant,
No impulse feels of rhapsody and rant.
Pleas'd we behold exalted virtue shine,
And in thy doctrine trace the light divine.
205
Angelic ray! that animates our frame;
Whose energy all nature round pervades,
Shines in the stars, and gilds the darkest shades;
That beam, by whose propitious light we fail,
Thro' dim mortality's beclouded vale.
Mistaken wits will oft' its influence slight,
Burlesque the name, and mock the sacred light;
Who at religion laugh, themselves deride,
This light is only reason's sacred guide;
Which bids us all ignoble joys despise,
And like a lamp conducts us to the skys.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |