Verses by John Frederick Bryant late tobacco-pipe maker at Bristol. Together with his life, written by himself |
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 | Verses by John Frederick Bryant |  |
1
On the DEATH of a SPANIEL, The Favourite of the younger Part of the Family, but a Tyrant to the Cats.
Beneath your feet, low in the silent dust,Phillis, the fondest cur that ever breath'd,
Freed from the cares of life's important trust,
Insensible to praise or blame, does rest:
But all of canine race must surely die;
The bull-dog fierce, the mastiff stout and bold;
Each pointer, setter, greyhound, low must lie
At last, like spaniel Phillis, stiff and cold.
Lions and tigers, all the prowling brood
Of bears and wolves, and panthers fierce and wild,
That range the desert, and infest the wood,
Must yield to death, like Phillis tame and mild.
2
Who stiles himself o'er all creation lord,
Must feel the mortal pang, must too expire,
And to the wormy grave a feast afford.—
Ah, childhood! stop, and shed one generous tear
O'er your once fav'rite Phillis, now no more;
For she to all your youthful train was dear,
When in your service her frail life she wore.
Alas! she lies bereft of pow'r to please!
All, all her late diverting tricks are done!
Phillis no more the grim-fac'd cat can teaze,
For ah! the little wanton's dead and gone!
3
WANTON BETTY.
Written at Woolwich, by the Desire of Mr. Richards, Pipe-maker in that Town.
In Woolwich town does live a lass,I call her Wanton Betty;
For not an epithet beside
Would suit her half so pretty.
Her shape and features, all must own,
Are but of homely form;
But still the pert vain thing, in hopes
The silly fops to charm,
First with a floury rag does rub
Her skin, of brown complexion;
Next cleans her teeth and scurvy gums,
According to direction;
Then struts in ancient duds, reform'd
To something like the fashion,
'Till some soft shipwright, smitten, owns,
Alack! his love-sick passion.
4
The graceless girl sits grinning,
Nor shortens by one single prayer
Her weekly score of sinning.
Her heart's of all devotion void,
Her wicked eyes are leering,
Her mind is too reverse employ'd
T'attend to what she's hearing.
With blink, or nod, or awkward smile,
She views each smart young fellow;
Why, wench! of all thy wanton ways
I'm quite asham'd to tell-o!
Do, prithee, stop thy mad career,
The broad way thou'rt a-going;
From me, thy friend, to lack advice
Think not thyself too knowing.
Alas! advice is thrown away
On headstrong wanton Bett;
Her mad career she still pursues;
'Tis all in vain to fret.
5
If this cap fits thee, wear it:
I've seam'd it well, and sew'd it strong,
Thou canst not fairly tear it.
The KING of HANGING WOOD:
OR, THE FORTUNE of an IRISH LABOURER, Who was caught with one of the Women that infest Hanging Wood, near Woolwich; whose acknowledged Superiority in fighting had obtained her the Title of Queen of the Wood. Written by Desire of Mr. M---, Foreman of the Bricklayers with whom the Labourer worked.
From Ireland came a hearty Boy,Jack Donakin by name:
Ahoo! he was as dear a joy
As ever shone in fame.
In Ireland Jack for bread fed hogs,
'Till he his country flew;
But ah! he left his native bogs
With noble aims in view:
6
As he himself reports,
He to a wizard blind and old
Expos'd his moles and warts;
He learn'd on one auspicious wart
To plume ambition's wing;
“For lo!” said he, “thou'lt shine at court,
“And live to be a king:
“And Britain's island is the place,
“Boy! think it not a notion,
“Where thou shalt bear the pond'rous mace,
“And climb to such promotion.”
Ah! Gramachree, he cried, for joy,
I'll make no more delay;
So then set off this hearty boy,
And left his debts to pay.
Long has he borne the promis'd mace ,
And long has been a-climbing ,
And oft the court has seen his face,
As sure as I'm a-rhiming.
7
Of amorous Hanging Wood,
Th'ambitious rip has made (I ween)
The grand prediction good.
And may his royal fortune smile
'Till fate in hemp arrays him,
And in a proper kingly style
To his last court conveys him:
For, certain as he first drew breath
In that dear isle Hibernia,
The rogue will live to catch his death
At that place call'd Tyburnia.
8
THE AFFRIGHTED BRICKLAYER.
You that in characters delight,
Behold, here's one in black and white,
Descriptive of a surly rip,
As ever did a Bridewell keep.
Ill-nature's pictur'd in his face;
His looks betray him void of grace;
While every word he does dispense
Proclaims him likewise void of sense.
I wave his sirname; but for that,
He answers to the name of Nat,
And is by trade a brother Bat.
Behold, here's one in black and white,
Descriptive of a surly rip,
As ever did a Bridewell keep.
Ill-nature's pictur'd in his face;
His looks betray him void of grace;
While every word he does dispense
Proclaims him likewise void of sense.
I wave his sirname; but for that,
He answers to the name of Nat,
And is by trade a brother Bat.
Now be it known, about the time
As daisies 'gan to be in prime—
But first, to set the matter clear,
As well as when, I'll tell you where.—
As daisies 'gan to be in prime—
But first, to set the matter clear,
As well as when, I'll tell you where.—
From Woolwich, somewhat 'bout a mile,
The thief has liv'd a tightish while,
And, 'twixt the town and Shooter's Hill
(Now, pray, be quiet while I tell)
A range of building if you see,
You somewhat near the mark may be
Where Nat got into foul disgrace.
Per'dy! 'twas in the very place
Where Mosely's voice has oft been heard,
By which 'tis known the crows were scar'd:
For while his foremanship was there,
The devil a one would come a-near.
The thief has liv'd a tightish while,
9
(Now, pray, be quiet while I tell)
A range of building if you see,
You somewhat near the mark may be
Where Nat got into foul disgrace.
Per'dy! 'twas in the very place
Where Mosely's voice has oft been heard,
By which 'tis known the crows were scar'd:
For while his foremanship was there,
The devil a one would come a-near.
Now on the scaffold Nathan stood,
One busy day, in angry mood,
With trowel brandish'd in his hand,
Roaring for stuff with stern command.
Whether his hen had peck'd him more
Than she was us'd to do before,
Or what, we don't pretend to say;
But certain 'tis, upon that day
Nathan was more than common cross,
With clouded brows and look morose:
For bricks and mortar how he bawl'd!
And louder still and louder call'd.
By ev'ry hodman still neglected,
'Twas thought he'd surely go distracted.
At length, “You Irish thieves!” he cries,
And then went on with d---n your e---,
And such-like language; which, to hear,
No true-born Irishman could bear.
One busy day, in angry mood,
With trowel brandish'd in his hand,
Roaring for stuff with stern command.
Whether his hen had peck'd him more
Than she was us'd to do before,
Or what, we don't pretend to say;
But certain 'tis, upon that day
Nathan was more than common cross,
With clouded brows and look morose:
For bricks and mortar how he bawl'd!
And louder still and louder call'd.
10
'Twas thought he'd surely go distracted.
At length, “You Irish thieves!” he cries,
And then went on with d---n your e---,
And such-like language; which, to hear,
No true-born Irishman could bear.
A fierce Hibernian left the ground,
With limbs, and lungs, and all things sound;
He up the wooden hill ascended,
And Natty's noise was quickly ended.
“Arrah! now burn my shoul,” says he,
“But off the scaffold you shall be:
“Not down the ladder; but, for fun,
“I'll take and shend you by the run,
“If ever an angry word you speak;
“So be the hust! and shave your neck,
“And put an end to all your swearing,
“Or I'll beshtow you out of hearing.
“Hurroo! d'ye growl? the devil skin me
“If I don't ram you down the chimney.”
With limbs, and lungs, and all things sound;
He up the wooden hill ascended,
And Natty's noise was quickly ended.
“Arrah! now burn my shoul,” says he,
“But off the scaffold you shall be:
“Not down the ladder; but, for fun,
“I'll take and shend you by the run,
“If ever an angry word you speak;
“So be the hust! and shave your neck,
“And put an end to all your swearing,
“Or I'll beshtow you out of hearing.
“Hurroo! d'ye growl? the devil skin me
“If I don't ram you down the chimney.”
Cold shiv'ring seiz'd on tim'rous Nat;
His very heart went pit-a-pat;
Pale as a clout his visage grew;
And well it might; for well he knew,
If he should send him that way down,
'Twould surely crack his empty crown.
His very heart went pit-a-pat;
11
And well it might; for well he knew,
If he should send him that way down,
'Twould surely crack his empty crown.
Nor spoke his brother Bats a word;
The scoundrel was by all abhorr'd:
But what, you'll say, was quite uncivil,
His greatest friend, I mean the devil,
Stood by, and never took his part,
And that quite put him out of heart:
So Nat thought best to drop the cause,
And very wisely clos'd his jaws.
The scoundrel was by all abhorr'd:
But what, you'll say, was quite uncivil,
His greatest friend, I mean the devil,
Stood by, and never took his part,
And that quite put him out of heart:
So Nat thought best to drop the cause,
And very wisely clos'd his jaws.
12
The LIFE of J. P.
The NETTLEBED-LAMITE.
A conceited young Bricklayer, a Native of Nettlebed, in Oxfordshire, who used to boast of his Skill in hedging, ditching, boxing, &c. &c. as well as in his own business, in which he thought himself too good a Workman to be employed in any Part, except the Front Walls, which are built with a better Sort of Bricks, called Front Stocks.
It was begun in consequence of a Dispute; but soon stopped in its Progress by a Treat of Beef-steaks and Porter, with which the Bricklayer thought fit to silence the Labourer's Muse.
Oft has the muse presum'd, in numbers great,
To sing the various turns of human fate;
And ventur'd oft, in solemn verse, to tell
How mighty empires rose, and how they fell;
Nor left unsung the rape of Sparta's queen,
Nor how Achilles lov'd fair Pollexene.
Divinities and men, and martial frogs,
Alike have grac'd her epics or eclogues.
Equal she brings, to interest the mind,
The world's proud master, or the humble hind.
To sing the various turns of human fate;
And ventur'd oft, in solemn verse, to tell
How mighty empires rose, and how they fell;
Nor left unsung the rape of Sparta's queen,
Nor how Achilles lov'd fair Pollexene.
Divinities and men, and martial frogs,
Alike have grac'd her epics or eclogues.
13
The world's proud master, or the humble hind.
Th'atchievements of a shoe-black may be told
In florid language, and in diction bold:
Then shall a hect'ring tradesman's deeds be lost,
Whose bringing-up so many crowns has cost?
No, thou, my muse, shalt rescue from the jaws
Of dark oblivion such a weighty cause.
In florid language, and in diction bold:
Then shall a hect'ring tradesman's deeds be lost,
Whose bringing-up so many crowns has cost?
No, thou, my muse, shalt rescue from the jaws
Of dark oblivion such a weighty cause.
Amidst Oxonian vales, where waving corn
Makes farmers purse-proud, and the fields adorn;
Lo! in an obscure village, with a name
Gross as the stinging weed that bears the same,
Young Frontstock was begot, conceiv'd, and born.
Thus in a bed of nettles grew a thorn.
But soon the father, with paternal joy,
Beheld the early genius of the boy
To rear with unwrought flint the rustic wall,
Though sometimes, like old Jericho's , they'd fall:
Nor was the boy at hedging less expert;
Ditching and banking too he'd got by heart;
To architecture ev'ry way inclin'd,
As mostly suiting with his tow'ring mind;
To which th'indulgent parent bound him fast,
Though some folks think he ran away at last.
Makes farmers purse-proud, and the fields adorn;
Lo! in an obscure village, with a name
Gross as the stinging weed that bears the same,
Young Frontstock was begot, conceiv'd, and born.
Thus in a bed of nettles grew a thorn.
But soon the father, with paternal joy,
Beheld the early genius of the boy
To rear with unwrought flint the rustic wall,
Though sometimes, like old Jericho's , they'd fall:
14
Ditching and banking too he'd got by heart;
To architecture ev'ry way inclin'd,
As mostly suiting with his tow'ring mind;
To which th'indulgent parent bound him fast,
Though some folks think he ran away at last.
He was one time employed by a gentleman to erect a tower of flint in his garden, which, when about three parts finished, tumbled down while he and the labourer were gone to dinner.
A SONG, On the PRINCESS ROYAL.
Written about a Year before the last French War.
RECITATIVE.
I.
At Spithead anchor'd lies a noble ship,The Princess Royal nam'd, with ninety guns;
She'll sweep the rebel Yankees off the deep,
And from their batt'ries make the scoundrels run.
15
II.
Come, all ye British seamen that wish to gain applause,And enter in our ship, in your king and country's cause,
And we'll give the Yankee-doodles a dowse in the jaws,
From on board of the Princess Royal.
III.
Come, all ye jolly landsmen that love to see good fun,And you'll see how we will make the ragged rascals run,
And we'll make them strike their striped flags, or die by our guns,
From on board of the Princess Royal.
IV.
RECITATIVE.
Brave Milbank, now on board our ship, commands,Whose name the rebels will have cause to fear;
Come, now's the time, while we are wanting hands,
So to our jovial rendezvous repair.
16
V.
And there you'll meet some merry dogs,And all as fat as bacon hogs,
Resolv'd the Yankees for to flog;
Or else, upon occasion,
To sink the fleets of France and Spain:
So let them ever dare again
To meet our navy on the main,
Or brave the British nation.
VI.
There came a bold fellow from good Staffordshire,And a brazier he was by his trade, you shall hear:
I'm come for to enter, he loudly did roar,
And he'd thrash the damn'd Yankees, he heartily swore.
VII.
Then came a valiant Welchman,Hur name was Tom Lewellyn;
Says he, hur cannot rest nor sleep,
'Till the Yankees hur was killing.
17
By us that did maintain her,
We'll make them feel
Our fire and steel,
And that's the way to gain her.
Fal de ral, &c. &c.
VIII.
An Irishman seconded Mr. Lewellyn,And said, My dear crature, you're all in the right;
And, by Jasus! I'll venture my life for a shilling
But these here damn'd Yankees I'll sartinly fight.
Hubbabu, bubbabu, while I'll be able,
Hallalu, fallalu, while it will do;
May I never see pradies a-top o' the table,
If I have n't the spirit to say as I do.
IX.
For my part, I'll enter aboard like anodder,An shew'm a bit of an Irish game;
For the Yankees are scoundrels, and we are their moders,
An if they don't know it we'll tach 'em the same.
18
Hallalu, fallalu, while it will do;
And the ship to the anchor we'll tie with a cable,
And then we'll be taking a bit of a cruise.
X.
Then came a Scotch lad, on purpose to enter;He swore that he'd stay no longer on shore;
And 'cause he was a 'prentice, he burnt his indenture:
On board the Princess Royal he'd enter, he swore.
Not his Moggy's kind embraces,
No, nor all her muckle graces;
Now sighing,
Now crying,
Could him restrain;
For Jockey did declare
He'd not the rebels spare;
But with big roaring gun
He wou'd make the Yankees run,
And his life he would lose, or the victory gain.
19
XI.
Our captain cries, “Well said! my boys;“Our guns shall make a thund'ring noise;
“While glory each brave mind enjoys:
“My hearts, be stout and loyal.
“We'll bring destruction on their fleet,
“Or take them all that e'er we meet,
“And give them soon a grand defeat;
“And then we'll come in triumph home,
“With flying flags and beating drums,
“On board the Princess Royal.”
20
On the Approach of PEACE.
Long the trumpet breath'd alarms;
Long the drum had beat to arms:
Long has sung the martial muse,
Fame supplying hostile news.
But now the martial song shall cease;
And ev'ry voice shall welcome Peace.
Long the drum had beat to arms:
Long has sung the martial muse,
Fame supplying hostile news.
But now the martial song shall cease;
And ev'ry voice shall welcome Peace.
Peace! thou lovely virgin! hail!
Peace! that loves the rural vale:
Peace! that loves to haunt the grove,
While the shepherd sings of love.
Bid the martial trumpet cease;
Vales and groves shall echo, Peace!
Peace, that loves to rove serene,
Where, with weeping willows green;
Where, with reeds and daffodils,
Pleasing Melancholy dwells,
List'ning to the winding stream,
Oft the sylvan poet's theme;
While the soft, the gentle breeze,
Fragrant breathes, and whispers Peace!
Peace! that loves the rural vale:
Peace! that loves to haunt the grove,
While the shepherd sings of love.
Bid the martial trumpet cease;
Vales and groves shall echo, Peace!
Peace, that loves to rove serene,
Where, with weeping willows green;
Where, with reeds and daffodils,
Pleasing Melancholy dwells,
21
Oft the sylvan poet's theme;
While the soft, the gentle breeze,
Fragrant breathes, and whispers Peace!
Hail! again, sweet virgin, hail!
All thy gentle charms unveil.
Lo! the nations court thy smile;
Then welcome to the British Isle,
Where the song of war shall cease,
While our voices welcome Peace.
All thy gentle charms unveil.
Lo! the nations court thy smile;
Then welcome to the British Isle,
Where the song of war shall cease,
While our voices welcome Peace.
See! the Goddess now descends;
Hostile nations now are friends:
Now her olive-branch she waves,
Party flies to midnight caves;
Lurking Envy hides her head;
Discord seeks th'infernal shade.
Wild disorder now shall cease,
Hush'd by Harmony to Peace.
Hostile nations now are friends:
Now her olive-branch she waves,
Party flies to midnight caves;
Lurking Envy hides her head;
Discord seeks th'infernal shade.
Wild disorder now shall cease,
Hush'd by Harmony to Peace.
See where dire Bellona flies!
Tracks of gore besmear the skies.
Clouds arise, and tempests howl;
Lightnings blaze, and thunders roll.
But the Fury disappears,
And the scene to brightness clears;
And, to bid the tumult cease,
Fame's loud trumpet sounds to Peace.
Tracks of gore besmear the skies.
Clouds arise, and tempests howl;
Lightnings blaze, and thunders roll.
22
And the scene to brightness clears;
And, to bid the tumult cease,
Fame's loud trumpet sounds to Peace.
A SONG, Written for a Club of Convivials, Held weekly at the House of Mr. Bush, the Sign of The Sun, in Christmas-Street, Bristol.
Ye souls, who love to quaff the genial stream,Whose wave inspires with mirth and joy supreme,
The gift of Ceres, whose maternal hand
Spreads the ripe harvest, waving o'er our land;
And you who wish to lull your cares with song,
Let bus'ness rest, and join the jovial throng,
Who, while my muse ascends in lofty rhyme,
Spurn earth's dull scenes, and soar with her sublime;
23
Nor rests till high upon the happy shores,
Near St. John's sacred mansion , pleas'd, she finds,
Above the Worlds , a mansion to our minds;
Where fountains with nectareous liquids flow,
And plants of mirth to fruits of friendship grow;
Where Sol perpetual sheds his golden rays,
And Johnny Bush the rent and licence pays;
Who has provided us this ample room,
To which at length, I thank my stars, I'm come.
Two public-houses a little lower down the same street, each the sign of the Globe, distinguished by the names of the Old and the New Globes.
Tune, Strephon and his Chlora lying.
And our president, right worthy,For my song has knock'd me down:
Come, my muse! for once bestir thee;
Heav'n avert the critic's frown!
24
If, probatum est, they smile,
Shall dispel what doubts confound me,
Prompt my verse, and grace my style.
Though shou'd you look one size graver,
Ah! my song would soon be done;
Or, distrustful of your favour,
Timid I should venture on.
Tune, The Lass of Patie's Mill.
Now some folks like your hunting songs,
Some sing about the wars;
For some men of the chace are fond,
And a few of the field of Mars.
While some affect your toping songs,
(The votaries of wine)
The lover swears your love-sick songs
Are the only songs divine.
Some sing about the wars;
For some men of the chace are fond,
And a few of the field of Mars.
While some affect your toping songs,
(The votaries of wine)
The lover swears your love-sick songs
Are the only songs divine.
The sailor likes your sea-songs best,
In which he'll take some pride;
And wonder if he lets you rest
'Till he's sung you a full broadside.
The miller sings his mill-clack song;
Your party songs for some;
The husbandman holds fast his cann,
Loud roaring Harvest-home.
In which he'll take some pride;
And wonder if he lets you rest
'Till he's sung you a full broadside.
25
Your party songs for some;
The husbandman holds fast his cann,
Loud roaring Harvest-home.
Tune, Then farewel, my trim-built Wherry.
(A little altered.)
But our convivial joys my theme is,
Though surly cares at distance growl:
To drink and smoke, to laugh and sing, our scheme is,
While friendship fires each gen'rous soul,
While friendship fires each gen'rous soul.
Though surly cares at distance growl:
To drink and smoke, to laugh and sing, our scheme is,
While friendship fires each gen'rous soul,
While friendship fires each gen'rous soul.
Our lips the circling tankard greeting,
Our pipes with fragrance charge the air:
Success we drink, and ev'ry draught repeating,
Or damn the churl, or toast the fair.
Our pipes with fragrance charge the air:
Success we drink, and ev'ry draught repeating,
Or damn the churl, or toast the fair.
While thus the social joys are flowing,
In ev'ry eye while pleasures beam,
While with celestial flame each breast is glowing,
The sky-born sons of Jove we seem!
In ev'ry eye while pleasures beam,
While with celestial flame each breast is glowing,
The sky-born sons of Jove we seem!
26
Meanwhile the song, in strains harmonious,
With Fancy's flights enchants our ears:
Now hear the thund'ring chorus roar symphonious,
And stun the world, and drown the spheres,
And stun the world, and drown the spheres.
With Fancy's flights enchants our ears:
Now hear the thund'ring chorus roar symphonious,
And stun the world, and drown the spheres,
And stun the world, and drown the spheres.
A SONG, Written for a Club at Bristol, which met at the West India Coffee-House, kept by Mr. Hawkes.
I
Divine Concordia! from the spheresReturn'd to bless the happy few,
In this gay circle now appears,
And bids us all our joys renew.
Her blest harmonious train she brings,
With ev'ry soul-elating sound;
While Pleasure waves her rosy wings,
And Pain and Sorrow quit the ground.
27
CHORUS.
Now undisturb'd fair Friendship reigns,What breast but owns her sacred power?
While sings the muse in vocal strains,
To celebrate the social hour.
II
See! Hawks supplying all our wants:Our nectar, see! in copious floods:
He brings the aromatic plant,
And clouds of incense feast the Gods!
Now fair Euphrosyne descends,
And Mirth and Glee their charms resume,
To reinspire us jovial friends,
Whilst Chorus rocks the lofty dome!
Chorus repeated.
III
By us the streams of life are quaff'd;Our mirth, our songs, proclaim our joys:
The toast renew'd, renew'd the draught,
And Comus cries, Encore! my boys!
28
Our spirits rise, unreach'd by care,
We'll swell the heart-felt chorus round,
And be as blest as mortals dare.
CHORUS.
Still undisturb'd fair Friendship reigns,What breast but owns her sacred power?
While sings the muse in vocal strains,
To celebrate the social hour.
29
A SONG FOR THE BRISTOL SAILING SOCIETY.
I
By lofty hills environ'd round,On rocky Avon's happy shores,
Bristolia stands; within whose ample bound
The loud Severnian billow roars:
With sails unreef'd, though threat'ning Boreas raves,
Her dauntless heroes ride the waves.
II
Her name to distant regions known,Where Commerce courts the gentle gales,
Each temp'rate, each extremer zone,
Each clime receives her welcome sails;
With which unreef'd, though threat'ning Boreas raves,
Her dauntless heroes ride the waves.
30
III
Let Britain's vaunting rivals dareAdvance, with bloody flags unfurl'd,
Bristolians haste the glorious strife to share;
Bristolian deeds amaze the world!
As thunder-arm'd (while round Bellona raves)
Her dauntless heroes ride the waves.
IV
At home, her sons, estrang'd from fear,Impatient wait the flowing tide;
Then pleas'd between their lofty rocks they steer,
And o'er their native billows ride:
Each daring soul the threat'ning danger braves;
Bristolian heroes love the waves.
V
Elated by th'increasing gale,Undaunted by the lowring storm,
Borne on the surge, the heaving flood we hail,
With glorious emulation warm!
Each daring soul the threat'ning danger braves;
Bristolian heroes love the waves.
31
VI
Now dreadless o'er the foaming deep,Though furious blasts impetuous howl,
With swelling sails our destin'd course we keep;
And still, though mountain billows roll,
Each daring soul the threatning danger braves:
Bristolian heroes love the waves.
VII
“My sons adopted!” Neptune cries;“Bristolians, long enroll'd by Fame:”
His trident waves, the roaring tempest dies,
And Tritons loud the deed proclaim:
The Nereids leave their subteraqueous caves,
To hail the lovers of the waves.
VIII
Now back with Avon's tide we steer,By fav'ring breezes gently blown;
Boys! three times thrice repeat the naval cheer;
The flowing bowl our cruise shall crown:
While social joys, unknown to sordid slaves,
Succeed the pleasures of the waves.
32
On Mr. CRUGER's Return from America,
one of the members for Bristol.
Ye sons of freedom, now rejoice
In loud exulting strain!
The hero of Bristolia's choice,
The man who claims the people's voice,
Returns, with glory crown'd, again!
In loud exulting strain!
The hero of Bristolia's choice,
The man who claims the people's voice,
Returns, with glory crown'd, again!
CHORUS.
Iö Pæan! Hail! great Cruger!Iö Pæan! Hail! great Cruger!
To welcome thee on shore,
Bristolian cannons roar:
While we triumphant laurels wear,
And consecrate the day,
And wave our banners high in air,
Our dazzling trophies proudly rear,
He comes!
Huzza! huzza! huzza!
33
On a Piece of Unwrought Pipe-clay.
Rude mass of earth, from which with moiled hands(Compulsive taught) the brittle tubes I form,
Oft listless, while my vagrant fancy warm
Roves (heedless of necessity's demands)
Amid Parnassian bow'rs, or wishful eyes
The flight of Genius, while sublime she soars
Of moral truth in search, or earth explores,
Or sails with Science through the starry skies:—
Yet must I own (unsightly clod) thy claim
To my attention, for thou art my stead,
When grows importunate the voice of need,
And in the furnace thy last change I speed:
Ah! then how eager do I urge the flame,
How anxious watch thee mid that glowing fire,
That threats my eye-balls with extinction dire!
Alluding to the ill effects of the fire upon his sight, as mentioned in the last page of the Account of himself.
The Author on his own Situation.
Oft, tho' by Poverty's chill hand depress'd,
I've felt the charm that warm'd the poet's breast;
Oft, at the leisure hour, indulg'd my rage
To turn the borrow'd volume's magic page,
Where some choice fav'rite of th'inspiring Nine
Immortal lives in each immortal line;
As oft, by daring Emulation fir'd,
Invok'd the muse, and felt myself inspir'd:
But ere quick Fancy snatch'd the heav'n-born strain,
By Mis'ry seiz'd, I sunk depress'd again.
Still lur'd by Hope, my wounded genius tries
On sacred Inspiration's wings to rise,
Eager to brave the Critic's damning frown;
But Fate soon brings the wretched soarer down.
I've felt the charm that warm'd the poet's breast;
34
To turn the borrow'd volume's magic page,
Where some choice fav'rite of th'inspiring Nine
Immortal lives in each immortal line;
As oft, by daring Emulation fir'd,
Invok'd the muse, and felt myself inspir'd:
But ere quick Fancy snatch'd the heav'n-born strain,
By Mis'ry seiz'd, I sunk depress'd again.
Still lur'd by Hope, my wounded genius tries
On sacred Inspiration's wings to rise,
Eager to brave the Critic's damning frown;
But Fate soon brings the wretched soarer down.
Doom'd by diurnal toil and sordid care
To rub through life, and earn my scanty fare,
What frenzy urges my aspiring soul,
That aims among the tuneful spheres to roll?
Oft wak'd, as from a dream, from strains divine,
By angry dun, I lack th'appeasing coin—
It may be, have not wherewithal to dine.
Ah! then the heart-felt rhapsody is o'er,
And then I vow to court the muse no more:
But soon my heart resumes the fond desire;
Affections long indulg'd but slow expire.
Again the pleasing prospect I review;
Again the song descriptive I renew:
Again divine Urania's voice I hear,
And all the bright empyreal scenes appear.
To rub through life, and earn my scanty fare,
What frenzy urges my aspiring soul,
That aims among the tuneful spheres to roll?
Oft wak'd, as from a dream, from strains divine,
By angry dun, I lack th'appeasing coin—
It may be, have not wherewithal to dine.
Ah! then the heart-felt rhapsody is o'er,
And then I vow to court the muse no more:
But soon my heart resumes the fond desire;
Affections long indulg'd but slow expire.
35
Again the song descriptive I renew:
Again divine Urania's voice I hear,
And all the bright empyreal scenes appear.
O! would some gen'rous patronising friend
My murth'ring woes and dire vexations end;
Dismiss each threat'ning dun, each anxious care,
And bid me eat and sing, devoid of fear!
Loud should my grateful song proclaim his praise,
Whose fost'ring hand does friendless genius raise;
His kind commands my future themes should name;
His friendly counsel guide my flight to fame.
My murth'ring woes and dire vexations end;
Dismiss each threat'ning dun, each anxious care,
And bid me eat and sing, devoid of fear!
Loud should my grateful song proclaim his praise,
Whose fost'ring hand does friendless genius raise;
His kind commands my future themes should name;
His friendly counsel guide my flight to fame.
36
HOP-PICKING SONG.
BY DESIRE OF THE REV. MR. J---.
I
Welcome! welcome! season gay,Yielding sweet employment;
To the hop-grounds haste away,
'Tis there we find enjoyment.
From far and near a chearful crew,
With honest hearts and faces,
Our yearly visit we renew,
All smiling as the Graces.
CHORUS.
Then come, ye hearty lasses fair,And eke of brown complexion,
With mirth and glee to work repair,
And drive away dejection.
37
II
See the well-supported vinesAll in order growing;
Closely each it's pole entwines,
And richly all are blowing.
See! to us they bend their heads;
Yet, tearing them asunder,
We thus relentless them unwed,
And all their fragrance plunder.
CHORUS.
Come, ye hearty, &c.III
We to Fate must also bend,Perhaps in youth and beauty:
Nor think of Death as less our friend;
Like us, he does his duty.
Thou! yonder early-wither'd vine,
Unripe to earth returning;
Our sister's fate , in youth, like thine;
Her kindred yet are mourning.
CHORUS.
But come, ye hearty, &c.38
IV
Still let experience make us wise;Through life let virtue guide us:
Let harmless mirth our spirits rise,
Though riches are deny'd us.
And we, of innocence possess'd,
Will trust no bragging rover;
Nor yield, till marriage makes us blest,
The pledge we can't recover.
CHORUS.
But come, ye hearty, &c.V
At length, the merry season o'er,Our fragrant labour ending,
Success encrease our master's store,
Long life and health attend him!
So drinks each hearty lass so fair,
And each of brown complexion;
Then to our homes we all repair,
With cause for no dejection.
CHORUS.
So drinks, &c.Here and there the gatherers meet with a hop-vine that is withered; from which the gentleman desired me to draw a simile, in allusion to the death of one of those lasses, who died since the last season.
39
A PRAYER.
Amid the ceaseless din of human strife,
The groans of entering and departing life;
Amid the songs of joy, the wails of woe,
That living nature utters here below;
Amid the harmony of all the spheres
In concert, unenjoy'd by mortal ears;
Amid Heav'n's trumpets loud, by angels blown,
And lyres of seraphim, around thy throne,
O great Supreme! and while their voices join,
Proclaiming praise and glory only thine;
Presuming more, perhaps, than angels dare,
A trembling worm of earth intrudes his prayer.
The groans of entering and departing life;
Amid the songs of joy, the wails of woe,
That living nature utters here below;
Amid the harmony of all the spheres
In concert, unenjoy'd by mortal ears;
Amid Heav'n's trumpets loud, by angels blown,
And lyres of seraphim, around thy throne,
O great Supreme! and while their voices join,
Proclaiming praise and glory only thine;
Presuming more, perhaps, than angels dare,
A trembling worm of earth intrudes his prayer.
Thou great, eternal, awful, gracious cause
Of Nature's being, motion, form, and laws!
That gav'st me tastes of pleasure and of pain;
That gav'st me passions which alternate reign,
And reason, passion's riot to restrain:
By whom I first inspir'd this mortal breath;
In whom I trust for being after death:
Should I enjoy thy first great blessing, health;
And should thy providence bestow me wealth,
And crown me parent of a num'rous race,
Whose virtues should my name and fortune grace:
To love, to duty, should my fair adhere;
Should ev'ry friend approve himself sincere;
Should'st Thou my life reserve to ripest age,
And give me all the wisdom of the sage;
O! let no cursed avarice my store
Withhold from friend distress'd, or from the poor!
In love, or friendship, or paternal care,
In each enjoyment with the world I share,
Through life, O! give this feeling heart to be
For ever warm with gratitude to Thee!
Of Nature's being, motion, form, and laws!
That gav'st me tastes of pleasure and of pain;
That gav'st me passions which alternate reign,
And reason, passion's riot to restrain:
40
In whom I trust for being after death:
Should I enjoy thy first great blessing, health;
And should thy providence bestow me wealth,
And crown me parent of a num'rous race,
Whose virtues should my name and fortune grace:
To love, to duty, should my fair adhere;
Should ev'ry friend approve himself sincere;
Should'st Thou my life reserve to ripest age,
And give me all the wisdom of the sage;
O! let no cursed avarice my store
Withhold from friend distress'd, or from the poor!
In love, or friendship, or paternal care,
In each enjoyment with the world I share,
Through life, O! give this feeling heart to be
For ever warm with gratitude to Thee!
But should thy wisdom the reverse ordain,
And send me pale disease, and life-consuming pain;
Should pinching poverty still keep me down,
To pine beneath my fellow-mortals' frown;
Did I paternal feelings never know,
Or should my fruitful loins bring future woe;
Should an unfaithful wife dishonour bring;
Should slight of fancied friends my bosom wring;
Should my weak mind endure the scoff of fame,
And Dullness be my substituted name;
Should Nature early find herself outworn,
And that her earth to earth must soon return,
Without a friend to comfort or to mourn—
Amidst this gloomy, complicated throng
Of sharp afflictions, while I press along
Through each or real pain or seeming ill,
O give me resignation to thy will!
And send me pale disease, and life-consuming pain;
Should pinching poverty still keep me down,
To pine beneath my fellow-mortals' frown;
Did I paternal feelings never know,
Or should my fruitful loins bring future woe;
41
Should slight of fancied friends my bosom wring;
Should my weak mind endure the scoff of fame,
And Dullness be my substituted name;
Should Nature early find herself outworn,
And that her earth to earth must soon return,
Without a friend to comfort or to mourn—
Amidst this gloomy, complicated throng
Of sharp afflictions, while I press along
Through each or real pain or seeming ill,
O give me resignation to thy will!
42
MORNING.
To breathe fresh air, and view the sylvan scenes;
To taste the various sweets of rural life,
The bounteous gifts of Nature, and in part
Recall the bliss of man's primeval state,
I quit the smoking city's busy strife;
Nor with reluctance leave her thronged streets,
With all her dazzling pomp, her gay parades;
Her magisterial train, in scarlet pride;
Her structures beautiful, pil'd high in air;
Her crowded theatres, or splendid balls.
To taste the various sweets of rural life,
The bounteous gifts of Nature, and in part
Recall the bliss of man's primeval state,
I quit the smoking city's busy strife;
Nor with reluctance leave her thronged streets,
With all her dazzling pomp, her gay parades;
Her magisterial train, in scarlet pride;
Her structures beautiful, pil'd high in air;
Her crowded theatres, or splendid balls.
Now hail! ye ample fields, ye choiry groves,
Ye limpid streams, that through the vallies glide;
Ye lofty hills, commanding prospects round
Of wide extent; ye varied prospects, hail!
Where earth, and sky, and water, all combine,
In all their wond'rous forms, to fill the soul
With adoration to the glorious Author
Of Nature's being and stupendous frame!
Ye limpid streams, that through the vallies glide;
Ye lofty hills, commanding prospects round
Of wide extent; ye varied prospects, hail!
Where earth, and sky, and water, all combine,
In all their wond'rous forms, to fill the soul
With adoration to the glorious Author
Of Nature's being and stupendous frame!
43
Oft, as by Fancy led, I'll range the glade,
Or tread the flow'ry lawn, or climb the hill,
Or haunt the lonesome wood's sequester'd path,
Or muse along the margin of the stream;
And, while I visit Nature's local scenes,
Her living beauties shall inspire my song.
Then flow, my numbers, on in peaceful strains;
For Nature's peaceful scenes I mean to sing
In rural verse, and hail the great Creator
With heart-felt praise! while mental gratitude
Glows in my raptur'd breast, and mental love.
Unutterable! sublime! stupendous theme!
Language celestial might exhaust her stores
In numbers great, at Heaven's high festival
By laureat seraph sung; whose boldest flights
But still proclaim how much is left unsung.
Or tread the flow'ry lawn, or climb the hill,
Or haunt the lonesome wood's sequester'd path,
Or muse along the margin of the stream;
And, while I visit Nature's local scenes,
Her living beauties shall inspire my song.
Then flow, my numbers, on in peaceful strains;
For Nature's peaceful scenes I mean to sing
In rural verse, and hail the great Creator
With heart-felt praise! while mental gratitude
Glows in my raptur'd breast, and mental love.
Unutterable! sublime! stupendous theme!
Language celestial might exhaust her stores
In numbers great, at Heaven's high festival
By laureat seraph sung; whose boldest flights
But still proclaim how much is left unsung.
Yet shall my grateful soul aspire to rise
On wings of praise, towards th'Eternal's throne;
Whilst I his gifts receive, and breathe his air,
While with delight my wand'ring eye surveys
Creation's ample round, this mundane scene,
How wide! how glorious! how with wonders fill'd!
How elevating to th'admiring mind!—
See animated Nature, with her train,
Her mighty, her innumerable train,
Inhabiting earth, atmosphere, and sea,
In species rang'd, various of strength and size,
Distinguish'd by innumerable forms;
Some led by wond'rous instinct, some endow'd
With godlike reasoning powers; in action all,
Exhibiting the various modes of life!
While Vegetation robes the fertile earth
In varied verdure, and in gay brocade;
While Vegetation, from her liberal hand,
Deals to the sons of life their sustenance!
To her the learned botanist applies
For every precious health-restoring herb.
By her kind influence the buried grain
Rises propitious to the hopes of man:
By her kind influence fair Flora smiles,
And gay Pomona, o'er her latent fruits,
Which yet awhile compose her bloomy pride:
She rears the prouder, tow'ring, leafy tribes,
And tends the humble shrub, with equal care.
On wings of praise, towards th'Eternal's throne;
Whilst I his gifts receive, and breathe his air,
While with delight my wand'ring eye surveys
Creation's ample round, this mundane scene,
How wide! how glorious! how with wonders fill'd!
44
See animated Nature, with her train,
Her mighty, her innumerable train,
Inhabiting earth, atmosphere, and sea,
In species rang'd, various of strength and size,
Distinguish'd by innumerable forms;
Some led by wond'rous instinct, some endow'd
With godlike reasoning powers; in action all,
Exhibiting the various modes of life!
While Vegetation robes the fertile earth
In varied verdure, and in gay brocade;
While Vegetation, from her liberal hand,
Deals to the sons of life their sustenance!
To her the learned botanist applies
For every precious health-restoring herb.
By her kind influence the buried grain
Rises propitious to the hopes of man:
By her kind influence fair Flora smiles,
And gay Pomona, o'er her latent fruits,
Which yet awhile compose her bloomy pride:
She rears the prouder, tow'ring, leafy tribes,
And tends the humble shrub, with equal care.
45
Great Spring of Motion! vegetation's cause;
And life's great fountain, whence but late I sprung;
For great ambition bids me call thee Sire,
And boast myself a native of the skies;
Accept this filial tribute from my hand,
And deign, at intervals, to be my theme,
When gazing on thy works, they point to Thee!
When atmosphere in thunder cries, a God!
When ocean's billows roar Omnipotence!
When continents and isles display their Maker
In large expanding prospect! when I soar,
And Heaven's broad fields amaze my ravish'd muse!
And life's great fountain, whence but late I sprung;
For great ambition bids me call thee Sire,
And boast myself a native of the skies;
Accept this filial tribute from my hand,
And deign, at intervals, to be my theme,
When gazing on thy works, they point to Thee!
When atmosphere in thunder cries, a God!
When ocean's billows roar Omnipotence!
When continents and isles display their Maker
In large expanding prospect! when I soar,
And Heaven's broad fields amaze my ravish'd muse!
The grand vicissitudes that mark the hours
In which our globe revolves, I'll sing; the Morn
With all her sweets, in all her gay attire
Of summer garments clad; the radiant Noon,
With all the pride of day; the milder Eve,
And Sol's descending orb; the black-wing'd Night,
Whose gloom, contrasted by her burning gems,
With solemn grandeur fills her silent reign.
In which our globe revolves, I'll sing; the Morn
With all her sweets, in all her gay attire
Of summer garments clad; the radiant Noon,
With all the pride of day; the milder Eve,
And Sol's descending orb; the black-wing'd Night,
Whose gloom, contrasted by her burning gems,
With solemn grandeur fills her silent reign.
But soft! the Morning, wrapt in mantle grey,
Breaks faintly o'er yon interposing hills,
Smiling serenely on the sleeping world,
That, soon awaking, shall return her smile.
Nor can I feel, unmov'd, her gentle ray,
Re-cheering once again my grateful orbs,
That roll'd, but now, bewilder'd and begloom'd
Amid nocturnal shades:—Hail! glorious light!
Heaven's fairest child, essence of beauty, hail!
That best can'st speak the goodness and the pow'r
Of Him who form'd you, and supplies your fires,
Pay him a tribute of your brightest beams;
While men and angels, wrapt in admiration,
Behold the scene! display out all your wonders!
Shine your Creator's praise from world to world,
And blaze his glory through the universe!
Breaks faintly o'er yon interposing hills,
46
That, soon awaking, shall return her smile.
Nor can I feel, unmov'd, her gentle ray,
Re-cheering once again my grateful orbs,
That roll'd, but now, bewilder'd and begloom'd
Amid nocturnal shades:—Hail! glorious light!
Heaven's fairest child, essence of beauty, hail!
That best can'st speak the goodness and the pow'r
Of Him who form'd you, and supplies your fires,
Pay him a tribute of your brightest beams;
While men and angels, wrapt in admiration,
Behold the scene! display out all your wonders!
Shine your Creator's praise from world to world,
And blaze his glory through the universe!
As yet I can survey the trembling stars,
And yet but faintly view the objects round;
Scarce is discernible that narrow path
That leads across to yonder distant stile,
Beyond whose dusky bars my doubtful eyes
The rising ground and woodland kens obscure,
Where nothing certain meets my straiten'd sight;
But yonder gleam, now bright'ning in the east
With gradual pace, will yet ere long restore
The fields their verdure, and their tints the flow'rs.
And yet but faintly view the objects round;
Scarce is discernible that narrow path
That leads across to yonder distant stile,
Beyond whose dusky bars my doubtful eyes
The rising ground and woodland kens obscure,
Where nothing certain meets my straiten'd sight;
But yonder gleam, now bright'ning in the east
47
The fields their verdure, and their tints the flow'rs.
How pleasing 'tis to walk this early hour!
T'indulge the mind in sacred contemplation,
Free from disturbance, in these calm retreats,
While all is silent, save the tinkling rill,
Or whispering breeze that steals from Flora's bosom
The sweets of flow'rs and aromatic herbs,
Whose wafted odours oft regale the sense!
T'indulge the mind in sacred contemplation,
Free from disturbance, in these calm retreats,
While all is silent, save the tinkling rill,
Or whispering breeze that steals from Flora's bosom
The sweets of flow'rs and aromatic herbs,
Whose wafted odours oft regale the sense!
Now fade the spangles in yon azure vault,
While to the western deep the shadows fly,
And hills, and dales, and groves, and lawns, appear
In prospect more distinct; Nature awakes,
And prompts her offspring to begin the strain,
And tunes her universal voice to joy:
For hark! along the hedge the early birds,
As yet but softly twittering (hardly heard
Amid the purling rivulet's plaintive noise)
Preparing all to hail the God of day
With grateful carol and exulting hymn.—
And now the lark, suspended on the wing
In air sublime, warbles his artless lay,
And sweetly lengthens out each joyous note,
Charming, with soft delight, the list'ning ear.
Sweet bird! that celebrat'st the rising morn,
Enraptur'd while I hear thy swelling strains,
With thee I'd soar, and mix with thine my song.—
Meanwhile, at distance, hear the bird of Mars,
Perpetual harbinger of day's approach,
In louder note proclaims returning morn
Throughout the village, while from farm to farm
The strain'd response is heard the country round.
While to the western deep the shadows fly,
And hills, and dales, and groves, and lawns, appear
In prospect more distinct; Nature awakes,
And prompts her offspring to begin the strain,
And tunes her universal voice to joy:
For hark! along the hedge the early birds,
As yet but softly twittering (hardly heard
Amid the purling rivulet's plaintive noise)
Preparing all to hail the God of day
With grateful carol and exulting hymn.—
And now the lark, suspended on the wing
In air sublime, warbles his artless lay,
48
Charming, with soft delight, the list'ning ear.
Sweet bird! that celebrat'st the rising morn,
Enraptur'd while I hear thy swelling strains,
With thee I'd soar, and mix with thine my song.—
Meanwhile, at distance, hear the bird of Mars,
Perpetual harbinger of day's approach,
In louder note proclaims returning morn
Throughout the village, while from farm to farm
The strain'd response is heard the country round.
Proceed, my muse! sing how Aurora smiles:
Mark how she blushes in the eastern sky,
Tinging with purple half th'ethereal arch.
Welcome, Aurora, to our hemisphere!
Welcome, Aurora, to my gladden'd eyes!
Thy milder aspect, and thy softer charms,
Propitious ushering in the blaze of day,
Bid waking Nature sweetly smile, and yield
The tranquil breast a joy without a name.
Mark how she blushes in the eastern sky,
Tinging with purple half th'ethereal arch.
Welcome, Aurora, to our hemisphere!
Welcome, Aurora, to my gladden'd eyes!
Thy milder aspect, and thy softer charms,
Propitious ushering in the blaze of day,
Bid waking Nature sweetly smile, and yield
The tranquil breast a joy without a name.
Thus far the dawn's refracted ray I've sung,
And sometimes aim'd to snatch a thought sublime,
Or grace or dignity to raise my song
Above the multitude unknown to fame.
But now behold a grander scene appears,
That mocks the fervent efforts of my muse,
Descriptive singing, where description fails.
Come then, bright Inspiration! to my aid;
Enthusiastic ardours, fill my breast!
And, while my fir'd imagination burns,
Be my effusions equal to my theme!
I sing a purple sky, with clouds of gold;
An orient horizon in a blaze
Of bursting glory; an enlighten'd earth
Of variegated form, and beauteous shades,
With all those overwhelming floods of light
That stream immediate from the fount of day!
And sometimes aim'd to snatch a thought sublime,
Or grace or dignity to raise my song
49
But now behold a grander scene appears,
That mocks the fervent efforts of my muse,
Descriptive singing, where description fails.
Come then, bright Inspiration! to my aid;
Enthusiastic ardours, fill my breast!
And, while my fir'd imagination burns,
Be my effusions equal to my theme!
I sing a purple sky, with clouds of gold;
An orient horizon in a blaze
Of bursting glory; an enlighten'd earth
Of variegated form, and beauteous shades,
With all those overwhelming floods of light
That stream immediate from the fount of day!
Great prince! and patron of th'inspiring nine,
Bright Phœbus! in thy morning pomp array'd,
That 'midst th'acclaim of universal joy
Mak'st thy triumphal entry to the world,
Rejoic'd thy rising glory I behold,
Reviv'd thy vivifying warmth I feel,
And grateful celebrate thy blest return!
Bright Phœbus! in thy morning pomp array'd,
That 'midst th'acclaim of universal joy
Mak'st thy triumphal entry to the world,
Rejoic'd thy rising glory I behold,
Reviv'd thy vivifying warmth I feel,
And grateful celebrate thy blest return!
The welcome signal of thy first approach
The mountains from their gilded summits gave:
At length the misty vales enjoy thy rays,
Whose vapours now subsiding, soon disclose
The nether landscape, bright'ning to the view,
Woods, winding streams, and dew-bespangled lawns.
50
At length the misty vales enjoy thy rays,
Whose vapours now subsiding, soon disclose
The nether landscape, bright'ning to the view,
Woods, winding streams, and dew-bespangled lawns.
Shot from thy glowing disk, now just uprear'd,
Earth chear'd receives thy horizontal beams;
Fresh-growing vigour ev'ry herb resumes;
The fragrant flow'rs expand their painted leaves;
While animation feels extatic joys:
The lowing herds, the bleating flocks uprise,
The wanton kids and fawns with pleasure bound,
The groves with aviarian concerts ring,
And sweet responses charm from every bush.
Thy genial influence all nature feels,
With grateful sensibility replete,
Save man's obdurate breast; whom thirst of gain,
Whom jealousy, despair, or fell revenge,
Has render'd callous to thy piercing ray.
Earth chear'd receives thy horizontal beams;
Fresh-growing vigour ev'ry herb resumes;
The fragrant flow'rs expand their painted leaves;
While animation feels extatic joys:
The lowing herds, the bleating flocks uprise,
The wanton kids and fawns with pleasure bound,
The groves with aviarian concerts ring,
And sweet responses charm from every bush.
Thy genial influence all nature feels,
With grateful sensibility replete,
Save man's obdurate breast; whom thirst of gain,
Whom jealousy, despair, or fell revenge,
Has render'd callous to thy piercing ray.
Well might the ancient pagan world proclaim
Thee God of health, and harmony, and song!
Well may the unenlighten'd Easterns bend
With adoration to the rising sun!
And well may we, of science more profound,
Of truth's eternal oracles possess'd,
When we behold thy broad emerging wheel,
And view th'illuminated prospect round,
To Him our grateful adoration pay,
Who form'd thy burning orb, and myriads more,
From us remote, perhaps, whose bulk and blaze
Exceed beyond imagination thine!
Thee God of health, and harmony, and song!
Well may the unenlighten'd Easterns bend
51
And well may we, of science more profound,
Of truth's eternal oracles possess'd,
When we behold thy broad emerging wheel,
And view th'illuminated prospect round,
To Him our grateful adoration pay,
Who form'd thy burning orb, and myriads more,
From us remote, perhaps, whose bulk and blaze
Exceed beyond imagination thine!
Without a grateful rapture, what cold breast
Can feel the solar life-supplying fire,
While pleasure finds its way through ev'ry sense,
While all around conspires to yield it joy?
With one ungenerous sentiment retain'd,
Through this delightful valley who could stray,
And view fair Spring unbosom all her charms,
Her foliage, her blossoms, and her flow'rs,
While heavenly Morning gilds the smiling scene,
And Nature's voice is harmony and love?
Enchanted here her beauties I explore,
Amid the charm of birds and sweets of flow'rs;
At ev'ry step I stay to gaze around,
The prospect ever varying; while along
The verge of this clear brook I take my way,
And hear its pleasing murmurs: now it parts,
A clump of weeping willows to embrace,
And here again unites its lucid stream;
Now with a narrower surface hurrying on,
Now wid'ning as it winds among the shades
Of this embow'ring copse, where, smooth as that
In which Narcissus fatally admir'd
His own reflection (as of old 'tis sung)
It glides, and almost ceases to complain.
Can feel the solar life-supplying fire,
While pleasure finds its way through ev'ry sense,
While all around conspires to yield it joy?
With one ungenerous sentiment retain'd,
Through this delightful valley who could stray,
And view fair Spring unbosom all her charms,
Her foliage, her blossoms, and her flow'rs,
While heavenly Morning gilds the smiling scene,
And Nature's voice is harmony and love?
Enchanted here her beauties I explore,
Amid the charm of birds and sweets of flow'rs;
At ev'ry step I stay to gaze around,
52
The verge of this clear brook I take my way,
And hear its pleasing murmurs: now it parts,
A clump of weeping willows to embrace,
And here again unites its lucid stream;
Now with a narrower surface hurrying on,
Now wid'ning as it winds among the shades
Of this embow'ring copse, where, smooth as that
In which Narcissus fatally admir'd
His own reflection (as of old 'tis sung)
It glides, and almost ceases to complain.
Now to the ear, brought nearer by the breeze,
Harsh roars the torrent from the clapp'ring mill
Behind yon spacious orchard, whose rich bloom
Portends autumnal plenty; now again
Its less'ning clamour, which to distance yields,
Is barely heard amid the gen'ral charm
Of universal Nature's Morning song.
Harsh roars the torrent from the clapp'ring mill
Behind yon spacious orchard, whose rich bloom
Portends autumnal plenty; now again
Its less'ning clamour, which to distance yields,
Is barely heard amid the gen'ral charm
Of universal Nature's Morning song.
From hence the elevated eye surveys,
Extending on the left, th'aspiring hill,
Up whose uneven side the thicket hangs,
Oft frightful nodding o'er its winding base,
That forms the sidelong bound of this gay mead,
Now with sweet cowslips deck'd, and here and there
A blooming hawthorn, underneath whose shade
The primrose pale, that early meets the year,
And heav'n-complexion'd violet, love to dwell.
While all the right exhibits cultur'd fields,
That gently rising face th'ascending sun,
And bright reflect his glory: here the hand
Of human industry is full display'd
Amid earth's green productions, which of late
Have felt the warmth, and drank the show'rs of spring,
And promise well man's labour to repay.
Extending on the left, th'aspiring hill,
Up whose uneven side the thicket hangs,
Oft frightful nodding o'er its winding base,
53
Now with sweet cowslips deck'd, and here and there
A blooming hawthorn, underneath whose shade
The primrose pale, that early meets the year,
And heav'n-complexion'd violet, love to dwell.
While all the right exhibits cultur'd fields,
That gently rising face th'ascending sun,
And bright reflect his glory: here the hand
Of human industry is full display'd
Amid earth's green productions, which of late
Have felt the warmth, and drank the show'rs of spring,
And promise well man's labour to repay.
Through yonder opening pleasing is the view
Of objects more at distance, where the sight
Plays on an ampler scale: now village spires
Appear, and villas gay, and spacious farms,
With many a low-roof'd cottage, scarce observ'd
By thoughtless Folly's superficial eye,
By upstart Pride, that seldom deigns to note
The humble dwellings of the labouring poor.
Of objects more at distance, where the sight
Plays on an ampler scale: now village spires
Appear, and villas gay, and spacious farms,
With many a low-roof'd cottage, scarce observ'd
By thoughtless Folly's superficial eye,
By upstart Pride, that seldom deigns to note
The humble dwellings of the labouring poor.
O black Ingratitude! O shameful Pride!
Whose cold contempt insults the honest poor,
To whose humility and toil ye owe,
Next the Divine permission (gracious giv'n
And often unexpectedly resum'd)
For all your superfluity and state.
Their ready hands with patience hold the plough,
And spread the latent harvest o'er your land;
Their daily labour cultivates the ground,
With ev'ry plant our happy climate yields;
While the poor working manufact'rer's art
Clothes and accommodates the princely peer.
Whose cold contempt insults the honest poor,
To whose humility and toil ye owe,
54
And often unexpectedly resum'd)
For all your superfluity and state.
Their ready hands with patience hold the plough,
And spread the latent harvest o'er your land;
Their daily labour cultivates the ground,
With ev'ry plant our happy climate yields;
While the poor working manufact'rer's art
Clothes and accommodates the princely peer.
See yonder scaffold-girded building rise
Beneath the skilful workmen's busy hands:
Mark too the active labourers, that hard
Their scanty wages earn, bearing aloft
The ponderous materials for the pile;
And let the tenant of magnificence
Respect the hands that rais'd the stately dome.
Beneath the skilful workmen's busy hands:
Mark too the active labourers, that hard
Their scanty wages earn, bearing aloft
The ponderous materials for the pile;
And let the tenant of magnificence
Respect the hands that rais'd the stately dome.
Now in th'adjacent field, where flocks and herds
Promiscuous crop the blade, with chearful brow
Her early task the ruddy-featur'd maid
Begins, and each full udder to her pail
Resigns its burthen, sweetly while she sings
Her simple song of some inconstant swain,
Or mournful fate of rural maids in love.
Ah, damsel! may the moral of thy song
Thy youthful heart from vile seduction guard!
Promiscuous crop the blade, with chearful brow
Her early task the ruddy-featur'd maid
Begins, and each full udder to her pail
Resigns its burthen, sweetly while she sings
Her simple song of some inconstant swain,
Or mournful fate of rural maids in love.
55
Thy youthful heart from vile seduction guard!
O thou sweet muse! that oft on Avon's banks
Hast tun'd the harps, and taught th'immortal verse
Of Bristol bards—that partial didst inspire
Lactilla's numbers, while the rocky scene
And Clifton's villa'd heights she sung—yet deign
To crown my invocation with thy smiles,
While emulous I court thy sacred aid,
And sing the various beauties of the Morn!
Hast tun'd the harps, and taught th'immortal verse
Of Bristol bards—that partial didst inspire
Lactilla's numbers, while the rocky scene
And Clifton's villa'd heights she sung—yet deign
To crown my invocation with thy smiles,
While emulous I court thy sacred aid,
And sing the various beauties of the Morn!
Thus far I've wander'd through the flow'ry vale,
The thicket brush'd, and trac'd the mazy stream;
And now ascending to the mountain's brow,
(The lesser hills receding as I rise)
A glorious western prospect opens large,
In all the glow of Morning's youthful pride,
And beauty and sublimity conjoin
Their greater powers, with such effectual force
To strike th'enamour'd and admiring mind,
That gratitude, and love, and adoration,
To Nature's general Parent lift the soul!
The thicket brush'd, and trac'd the mazy stream;
And now ascending to the mountain's brow,
(The lesser hills receding as I rise)
A glorious western prospect opens large,
In all the glow of Morning's youthful pride,
And beauty and sublimity conjoin
Their greater powers, with such effectual force
To strike th'enamour'd and admiring mind,
That gratitude, and love, and adoration,
To Nature's general Parent lift the soul!
[To be continued.]
56
BENEVOLENCE.
O heav'n-born Gratitude! that first attun'd
Creation's voice to sing creating love,
That strung with harmony the seraph's lyre,
And taught the first archangel's trump to sound;
Hail! thou heav'n-pleasing Pow'r! whose reign extends
Through ev'ry order down to my poor breast,
That now with joy expanded feels thy sway:
By thee inspir'd, with heart rejoic'd I sing
Benevolence, in human form divine,
That prompted Liberality's blest hand
(Generous) to deal, from Fortune's ample store,
That kind relief which gave my bosom ease!
Creation's voice to sing creating love,
That strung with harmony the seraph's lyre,
And taught the first archangel's trump to sound;
Hail! thou heav'n-pleasing Pow'r! whose reign extends
Through ev'ry order down to my poor breast,
That now with joy expanded feels thy sway:
By thee inspir'd, with heart rejoic'd I sing
Benevolence, in human form divine,
That prompted Liberality's blest hand
(Generous) to deal, from Fortune's ample store,
That kind relief which gave my bosom ease!
Sacred Benevolence! my humble song
Flows tributary from my heart to thee,
Heav'n's darling attribute! by whom on earth
The soul its form of Deity assumes,
And looks with gracious dignity around
(The pearls of pity starting from her eyes)
Chearing the hearts of Sorrow and Distress,
Till Sorrow's eye, resparkling, yields to joy,
And Misery's dejected victim smiles.
Flows tributary from my heart to thee,
Heav'n's darling attribute! by whom on earth
The soul its form of Deity assumes,
57
(The pearls of pity starting from her eyes)
Chearing the hearts of Sorrow and Distress,
Till Sorrow's eye, resparkling, yields to joy,
And Misery's dejected victim smiles.
O thou blest city
! through whose bosom fair
Incessant flow thy ancient healing springs,
Warm with the breath of Heaven's benevolence,
By whom with precious qualities endow'd,
Long ages ere (proud on her pedestal)
The blue-ey'd goddess patroniz'd thy streams:
O Bath! within whose hospitable gates,
Unsought, unhop'd, Benevolence I found,
So far surpassing ev'ry sanguine wish,
That gratitude and joy o'erwhelm'd my soul!
For there the pow'rful sympathetic voice
Of soft Humanity had told my tale,
And generous Compassion lent her ear!
Incessant flow thy ancient healing springs,
Warm with the breath of Heaven's benevolence,
By whom with precious qualities endow'd,
Long ages ere (proud on her pedestal)
The blue-ey'd goddess patroniz'd thy streams:
O Bath! within whose hospitable gates,
Unsought, unhop'd, Benevolence I found,
So far surpassing ev'ry sanguine wish,
That gratitude and joy o'erwhelm'd my soul!
For there the pow'rful sympathetic voice
Of soft Humanity had told my tale,
And generous Compassion lent her ear!
And art thou seated in our favour'd isle?
With grateful pride does Albion boast thy wave,
Whose blessing but a favour'd few may share,
Gay Fortune's favourites, or the happy poor,
Whose humbler fortune plac'd them near to thee?
Yes! thou art seated in our favour'd isle;
Fair Albion owns thy salutary wave,
Which, if not yet accessible to all,
Far other are than partial to a few.
O! for example, view that thankful train
To health restor'd, with hopeful life renew'd,
Preparing now to meet the longing arms
Of those for whom their lives are doubly dear.
With these, of late the prey of dire disease,
Life-wearying Pain had fix'd her long abode,
Had spent her fury on their shrinking frames,
Perpetual, or with intermitting ease,
With aggravated torture to return.
Oft had they wish'd to prove the potent charm
Of thy bless'd fountains; oft had long'd to drink
(With eager thirst) the life-renewing draught,
Or lave their poor emaciated limbs,
And in thy waters lose their countless pangs.
But Fate their stations far remote had set,
And humble poverty remain'd their lot,
Which, by affliction render'd more extreme,
Made pinching want increase with racking pain,
While helpless love and kindred grief, combin'd
With pity, shed their unavailing tears.
With grateful pride does Albion boast thy wave,
Whose blessing but a favour'd few may share,
58
Whose humbler fortune plac'd them near to thee?
Yes! thou art seated in our favour'd isle;
Fair Albion owns thy salutary wave,
Which, if not yet accessible to all,
Far other are than partial to a few.
O! for example, view that thankful train
To health restor'd, with hopeful life renew'd,
Preparing now to meet the longing arms
Of those for whom their lives are doubly dear.
With these, of late the prey of dire disease,
Life-wearying Pain had fix'd her long abode,
Had spent her fury on their shrinking frames,
Perpetual, or with intermitting ease,
With aggravated torture to return.
Oft had they wish'd to prove the potent charm
Of thy bless'd fountains; oft had long'd to drink
(With eager thirst) the life-renewing draught,
Or lave their poor emaciated limbs,
And in thy waters lose their countless pangs.
But Fate their stations far remote had set,
59
Which, by affliction render'd more extreme,
Made pinching want increase with racking pain,
While helpless love and kindred grief, combin'd
With pity, shed their unavailing tears.
At length their groans were heard; their sad distress
Sweet Mercy's eye beholding, wept; when straight
Awakening in the soften'd human breast,
O'er each less lib'ral impulse of the soul
Benevolence assum'd her nat'ral sway;
Bright shone fair Bounty in the splendid sphere
Of Affluence, for free and large she gave;
While Competence (though bare) with equal soul
To yield her mite abridg'd her mod'rate fare.
Sweet Mercy's eye beholding, wept; when straight
Awakening in the soften'd human breast,
O'er each less lib'ral impulse of the soul
Benevolence assum'd her nat'ral sway;
Bright shone fair Bounty in the splendid sphere
Of Affluence, for free and large she gave;
While Competence (though bare) with equal soul
To yield her mite abridg'd her mod'rate fare.
Thus from the distant mansion of distress
The poor, disorder'd, hopeless wretch is brought,
And (Heav'n's benevolence with human care
Gracious co-operating) soon restor'd
To friends and kindred (joyfully surpris'd)
A grateful being, bless'd with health and joy!
O! might this heart-felt sympathizing song
But wake Benevolence in some cold breast,
Where now perhaps she unsuspected lies
Buried in prejudice or sordid cares!
The poor, disorder'd, hopeless wretch is brought,
And (Heav'n's benevolence with human care
Gracious co-operating) soon restor'd
To friends and kindred (joyfully surpris'd)
A grateful being, bless'd with health and joy!
O! might this heart-felt sympathizing song
But wake Benevolence in some cold breast,
60
Buried in prejudice or sordid cares!
Proceed, my muse! but now expand the scene;
For now my native sea-surrounded land,
In mental prospect, grateful I survey,
Heaven's bounty marking all her wide extent.
Thrice happy Britain! once again to smile
With peace and plenty bless'd, with glory crown'd!
Thy sons, who lately brav'd the threat'ning world,
And scarce your equal match, the world combin'd,
Ye British subjects! to yourselves but true.
For now my native sea-surrounded land,
In mental prospect, grateful I survey,
Heaven's bounty marking all her wide extent.
Thrice happy Britain! once again to smile
With peace and plenty bless'd, with glory crown'd!
Thy sons, who lately brav'd the threat'ning world,
And scarce your equal match, the world combin'd,
Ye British subjects! to yourselves but true.
O Britain! O Ierne! durst the muse
Amid your counsels to intrude her song,
That harmony she loves she would advise!
Thus would she sing:—Let blest Concordia join
In one great int'rest ev'ry partial view;
And as ye 're sisters call'd, O! still be friends.
Abreast your sons have fought, abreast they bled,
And equal danger, death, or glory shar'd;
And still united may your strength remain,
To keep the tyrants of the world in awe!
With gratitude, ye Britons, call to mind
Yourselves, how bless'd above the nations round,
Strangers to Liberty, your noblest pride,
Whose air but breath'd gives freedom to the slave!
'Tis you that with security enjoy
What Fortune gives, or what Industry stores:
'Tis you that are of mind and body free;
For cursed Tyranny her hated name
Here dares not own, much less with lawless pow'r
To seize the legal property you hold,
To bind your bodies, or prescribe your faith.
Amid your counsels to intrude her song,
That harmony she loves she would advise!
Thus would she sing:—Let blest Concordia join
In one great int'rest ev'ry partial view;
And as ye 're sisters call'd, O! still be friends.
Abreast your sons have fought, abreast they bled,
And equal danger, death, or glory shar'd;
And still united may your strength remain,
To keep the tyrants of the world in awe!
With gratitude, ye Britons, call to mind
61
Strangers to Liberty, your noblest pride,
Whose air but breath'd gives freedom to the slave!
'Tis you that with security enjoy
What Fortune gives, or what Industry stores:
'Tis you that are of mind and body free;
For cursed Tyranny her hated name
Here dares not own, much less with lawless pow'r
To seize the legal property you hold,
To bind your bodies, or prescribe your faith.
O Liberty! thou blessing dear as life!
Who robs me but of thee is half a murth'rer.
There needs, 'tis true, society to shield
From craft and crimes, for laws to be in force,
And sad experience daily proves their use.
But, O ye injur'd! when ye prosecute,
And bring the trembling culprit to the bar,
For sake of Heaven do not aim revenge!—
And thou vindictive Being, that can'st hold
Immur'd within a prison's dreary walls
Thy brother for a debt he cannot pay;
A man, perhaps, who wears an honest heart,
Who wrestled with his fortune ere he fell,
But 'tis not ev'ry mortal's lot to thrive:
Perhaps, in all the bitterness of grief,
His hapless wife and offspring shed their tears,
Without a friend to soften their distress;
Perhaps in their distress they come to thee,
Beseeching mercy for the sake of Heav'n!
Inexorable wretch! see how they kneel,
And pray, with lifted hands and streaming eyes,
For mercy! heavenly mercy! Oh! from thee.—
Who robs me but of thee is half a murth'rer.
There needs, 'tis true, society to shield
From craft and crimes, for laws to be in force,
And sad experience daily proves their use.
But, O ye injur'd! when ye prosecute,
And bring the trembling culprit to the bar,
For sake of Heaven do not aim revenge!—
And thou vindictive Being, that can'st hold
Immur'd within a prison's dreary walls
Thy brother for a debt he cannot pay;
A man, perhaps, who wears an honest heart,
62
But 'tis not ev'ry mortal's lot to thrive:
Perhaps, in all the bitterness of grief,
His hapless wife and offspring shed their tears,
Without a friend to soften their distress;
Perhaps in their distress they come to thee,
Beseeching mercy for the sake of Heav'n!
Inexorable wretch! see how they kneel,
And pray, with lifted hands and streaming eyes,
For mercy! heavenly mercy! Oh! from thee.—
Alas! distress may plead, and grief may weep,
But nature long has left his callous breast,
Whose pity these so vainly hope to move
With pray'rs and tears. Ah! see, they wring their hands,
And yield to black despair, convinc'd at last,
Poor souls! they cried for mercy to a stone!
But nature long has left his callous breast,
Whose pity these so vainly hope to move
With pray'rs and tears. Ah! see, they wring their hands,
And yield to black despair, convinc'd at last,
Poor souls! they cried for mercy to a stone!
On such occasion, how will Malice pour
Her gloomy eloquence, replete with gall,
Horrid! exulting o'er the ruin'd wretch,
Regardless of the innocent involv'd;
Breathing detraction 'gainst deserv'd esteem,
Exaggerating where she meets with blame,
To pity still oppos'd her hateful tale:
Perhaps, “through pride, like Lucifer, he fell;
“With Ostentation's banners gay unfurl'd,
“In state self-elevated 'bove his peers,
“In each disbursement, Flatt'ry to reward,
“Luxuriance to supply, or gorge Excess,
“Profusion mark'd the squand'rer for her own.
“At length, a murther'd competence expir'd,
“Industry's toiling sons became his dupes,
“By splendor dazzled, or deceiv'd by lies,
“As witness their unsatisfied demands.
“Thus view'd his character, from first to last,
“Proud, prodigal, ambitious, and unjust,
“May no compassion reach the worthless wretch,
“To dissipation an example made,
“For richly has he merited his fall!”
Her gloomy eloquence, replete with gall,
Horrid! exulting o'er the ruin'd wretch,
Regardless of the innocent involv'd;
Breathing detraction 'gainst deserv'd esteem,
Exaggerating where she meets with blame,
63
Perhaps, “through pride, like Lucifer, he fell;
“With Ostentation's banners gay unfurl'd,
“In state self-elevated 'bove his peers,
“In each disbursement, Flatt'ry to reward,
“Luxuriance to supply, or gorge Excess,
“Profusion mark'd the squand'rer for her own.
“At length, a murther'd competence expir'd,
“Industry's toiling sons became his dupes,
“By splendor dazzled, or deceiv'd by lies,
“As witness their unsatisfied demands.
“Thus view'd his character, from first to last,
“Proud, prodigal, ambitious, and unjust,
“May no compassion reach the worthless wretch,
“To dissipation an example made,
“For richly has he merited his fall!”
Ah, Malice! granting thy assertions true,
Still human frailty human pity claims,
And God's bless'd word enjoins us to forgive!
Ev'n the poor criminal, whom Justice dooms
To expiation by a shameful death,
Though all the dire necessity will own,
Yet none should triumph o'er his hapless fate;
For ah! Humanity regrets the sight,
Weeps o'er the wretched victim to the laws,
And, calling bright Religion to her aid,
Cheers the repenting soul with hopes of Heav'n!
Still human frailty human pity claims,
And God's bless'd word enjoins us to forgive!
Ev'n the poor criminal, whom Justice dooms
To expiation by a shameful death,
Though all the dire necessity will own,
64
For ah! Humanity regrets the sight,
Weeps o'er the wretched victim to the laws,
And, calling bright Religion to her aid,
Cheers the repenting soul with hopes of Heav'n!
[To be continued.]
| Verses by John Frederick Bryant | |