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Poems, moral and descriptive

By the late Richard Jago ... (Prepared for the press, and improved by the author, before his death.) To which is added, some account of the life and writings of Mr. Jago

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The SWALLOWS:
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211

The SWALLOWS:

An ELEGY.

PART I.

Ere yellow Autumn from our plains retir'd,
And gave to wintry storms the varied year,
The Swallow-race with prescient gift inspir'd,
To southern climes prepar'd their course to steer.
On Damon's roof a large assembly sate,
His roof a refuge to the feather'd kind!
With serious look he mark'd the grave debate,
And to his Delia thus address'd his mind.
Observe yon' twitt'ring flock, my gentle maid!
Observe, and read the wond'rous ways of Heav'n!
With us thro' Summer's genial reign they stay'd,
And food, and sunshine to their wants were giv'n.

212

But now, by secret instinct taught, they know
The near approach of elemental strife,
Of blust'ring tempests, and of chilling snow,
With ev'ry pang, and scourge of tender life.
Thus warn'd they meditate a speedy flight,
For this ev'n now they prune their vig'rous wing,
For this each other to the toil excite,
And prove their strength in many a sportive ring.
No sorrow loads their breast, or dims their eye,
To quit their wonted haunts, or native home,
Nor fear they launching on the boundless sky,
In search of future settlements to roam.
They feel a pow'r, an impulse all divine,
That warns them hence, they feel it, and obey,
To this direction all their cares resign,
Unknown their destin'd stage, unmark'd their way.
Peace to your flight! ye mild, domestic race!
O! for your wings to travel with the sun!
Health brace your nerves, and zephyrs aid your pace,
Till your long voyage happily be done.

213

See, Delia, on my roof your guests to-day,
To-morrow on my roof your guests no more,
Ere yet 'tis night with haste they wing away,
To-morrow lands them on some happier shore.
How just the moral in this scene convey'd!
And what without a moral? wou'd we read!
Then mark what Damon tells his gentle maid,
And with his lesson register the deed.
So youthful joys fly like the Summer's gale,
So threats the winter of inclement age,
Life's busy plot a short, fantastic tale!
And Nature's changeful scenes the shifting stage!
And does no friendly pow'r to man dispense
The joyful tidings of some happier clime?
Find we no guide in gracious Providence
Beyond the gloomy grave, and short-liv'd time?

214

Yes, yes the sacred oracles we hear,
That point the path to realms of endless joy,
That bid our trembling hearts no danger fear,
Tho' clouds surround, and angry skies annoy.
Then let us wisely for our flight prepare,
Nor count this stormy world our fixt abode,
Obey the call, and trust our Leader's care,
To smooth the rough, and light the darksome road.
Moses, by grant divine, led Israel's host
Thro' dreary paths to Jordan's fruitful side;
But we a loftier theme than theirs can boast,
A better promise, and a nobler guide.

PART II.

At length the Winter's howling blasts are o'er,
Array'd in smiles the lovely Spring returns,
Now fewel'd hearths attractive blaze no more,
And ev'ry breast with inward fervor burns.

215

Again the daisies peep, the violets blow,
Again the vocal tenants of the grove
Forgot the patt'ring hail, or driving snow,
Renew the lay to melody, and love.
And see, my Delia, see o'er yonder stream,
Where, on the bank, the lambs in gambols play,
Alike attracted by the sunny gleam,
Again the Swallows take their wonted way.
Welcome, ye gentle tribe, your sports pursue,
Welcome again to Delia, and to me,
Your peaceful councils on my roof renew,
And plan new settlements from danger free.
Again I'll listen to your grave debates,
Again I'll hear your twitt'ring songs unfold
What policy directs your wand'ring states,
What bounds are settled, and what tribes enroll'd.
Again I'll hear you tell of distant lands,
What insect-nations rise from Egypt's mud,
What painted swarms subsist on Lybia's sands,
What Ganges yields, and what th'Euphratean flood.

216

Thrice happy race! whom Nature's call invites
To travel o'er her realms with active wing,
To taste her various stores, her best delights,
The Summer's radiance, and the sweets of Spring:
While we are doom'd to bear the restless change
Of varying seasons, vapours dank, and dry,
Forbid like you in milder climes to range,
When wintry storms usurp the low'ring sky.
Yet know the period to your joys assign'd,
Know ruin hovers o'er this earthly ball,
As lofty tow'rs stoop prostrate to the wind,
Its secret props of adamant shall fall.
But when yon' radiant sun shall shine no more,
The spirit, freed from sin's tyrannic sway,
On lighter pinions borne than yours, shall soar
To fairer realms beneath a brighter ray.
To plains ethereal, and celestial bow'rs,
Where wintry storms no rude access obtain,
Where blasts no lightning, and no tempest low'rs,
But ever-smiling Spring, and Pleasure reign.
 

This little piece, and its companions, particularly the following, are highly honour'd by Mr. Aikin, in his ingenious and entertaining “Essay on the Application of Natural History to Poetry.”