Captivity, A Poem And Celadon and Lydia, A Tale. Dedicated, by Permission. To Her Grace the Duchess of Devonshire. By Mrs. Robinson |
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CELADON and LYDIA.
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 | Captivity, A Poem |  |
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CELADON and LYDIA.
A TALE.
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Secluded from the world's ignoble strife,
By storms unruffled, and unknown to Care,
Fair Lydia pass'd a solitary life,
Stranger to Poverty and sad Despair.
By storms unruffled, and unknown to Care,
Fair Lydia pass'd a solitary life,
Stranger to Poverty and sad Despair.
One peaceful tenor of serene repose
Her bosom own'd, from pain and trouble free,
She never sought Ambition's gilded woes,
Content to follow Nature's soft decree.
Her bosom own'd, from pain and trouble free,
She never sought Ambition's gilded woes,
Content to follow Nature's soft decree.
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Foe to Deceit,—Truth only was her guide,
From Virtue's laws she never learnt to rove,
Each shepherd's wonder, and the village pride,
No swain beheld her and forbore to love.
From Virtue's laws she never learnt to rove,
Each shepherd's wonder, and the village pride,
No swain beheld her and forbore to love.
Her form was fresher than the new-born flower,
No borrow'd artifice her charms conceal'd,
Unconscious of her beauty's matchless power,
She knew no wish that might not be reveal'd.
No borrow'd artifice her charms conceal'd,
Unconscious of her beauty's matchless power,
She knew no wish that might not be reveal'd.
Young Celadon, the pride of ****** plain,
Whose untaught bosom scorn'd deceit or art,
For blooming Lydia own'd a faithful flame,
And prov'd the feelings of a gen'rous heart.
Whose untaught bosom scorn'd deceit or art,
For blooming Lydia own'd a faithful flame,
And prov'd the feelings of a gen'rous heart.
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Each shar'd the grief or joy the other prov'd,
Their hearts were one, their wishes were the same,
In calm serenity they meekly mov'd,
Nor barter'd sweet Content for glitt'ring Fame.
Their hearts were one, their wishes were the same,
In calm serenity they meekly mov'd,
Nor barter'd sweet Content for glitt'ring Fame.
But Fate, unfriendly to their matchless truth,
With envious eye beheld their soft repose,
Repell'd the transports of their early youth,
And plung'd them in a sea of endless woes.
With envious eye beheld their soft repose,
Repell'd the transports of their early youth,
And plung'd them in a sea of endless woes.
By the green margin of a neighbouring wood,
Adorn'd on every side with verdant fields,
Near their kind cot, a stately mansion stood,
Replete with every gem that Nature yields.
Adorn'd on every side with verdant fields,
Near their kind cot, a stately mansion stood,
Replete with every gem that Nature yields.
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Its fair Inhabitant's benignant hand
Thro' the wide country largely spread her fame,
Her virtues echo'd thro' the distant land,
And every voice proclaim'd Celinda's name.
Thro' the wide country largely spread her fame,
Her virtues echo'd thro' the distant land,
And every voice proclaim'd Celinda's name.
Each shepherd strove the wealthy maid to please,
With all that Art or Nature could invent;
Thoughtless that Gold could never purchase ease,
Or gay Magnificence ensure content.
With all that Art or Nature could invent;
Thoughtless that Gold could never purchase ease,
Or gay Magnificence ensure content.
Ambition Celadon's soft bosom fires,
He pants for Luxury and all its woes,
No longer meek Humility admires,
But Lydia's artless love and peace foregoes.
He pants for Luxury and all its woes,
No longer meek Humility admires,
But Lydia's artless love and peace foregoes.
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To please Celinda now he tunes his lays,
And weaves the garland of ambrosial flow'rs;
At her fair shrine he constant tribute pays,
To her alone devotes the fleeting hours.
And weaves the garland of ambrosial flow'rs;
At her fair shrine he constant tribute pays,
To her alone devotes the fleeting hours.
But who can paint the pangs in Lydia's breast,
Where every racking conflict was combin'd,
Her tender bosom was no more at rest,
And Melancholy prey'd upon her mind.
Where every racking conflict was combin'd,
Her tender bosom was no more at rest,
And Melancholy prey'd upon her mind.
No more, she cherishes Sleep's balmy hour,
No more she feels the joys of soft repose;
She breathes her anguish in the roseate bow'r,
And to the murmuring stream reveals her woes.
No more she feels the joys of soft repose;
She breathes her anguish in the roseate bow'r,
And to the murmuring stream reveals her woes.
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Oft by the moon's pale lustre was she seen,
In pensive mood, upon the dewy lawn,
Or wand'ring lonely in the midnight scene,
Or prostrate low beneath the silver thorn.
In pensive mood, upon the dewy lawn,
Or wand'ring lonely in the midnight scene,
Or prostrate low beneath the silver thorn.
Pale was her cheek (once like the rose's hue),
Her eyes no more could boast her wonted pow'r,
The trickling tear sat like the pearly dew,
When op'ning morn reveals the May-born flow'r.
Her eyes no more could boast her wonted pow'r,
The trickling tear sat like the pearly dew,
When op'ning morn reveals the May-born flow'r.
But Celadon, unmindful of her pain,
Unmindful of that form he once ador'd,
Heard her with calm indifference complain,
Nor would one tender gleam of peace afford.
Unmindful of that form he once ador'd,
Heard her with calm indifference complain,
Nor would one tender gleam of peace afford.
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'Till by the silver moon's pale trembling light,
She sought a neighbouring current's limpid tide,
When all was wrapt in solitary night,
And cheering Hope her golden ray denied:
She sought a neighbouring current's limpid tide,
When all was wrapt in solitary night,
And cheering Hope her golden ray denied:
All pensive on the margin as she stood,
Contending passions tear her woe-fraught breast,
With tear-full eye she gazes on the flood,
With longing eagerness she pants for rest.
Contending passions tear her woe-fraught breast,
With tear-full eye she gazes on the flood,
With longing eagerness she pants for rest.
“Farewell,” she cried, “farewell, ungrateful youth!
“Thy plighted constancy and form divine
“I soon shall quit; thy broken vows of truth,
“And all thy once-lov'd beauties, now resign.
“Thy plighted constancy and form divine
“I soon shall quit; thy broken vows of truth,
“And all thy once-lov'd beauties, now resign.
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“May all thy moments glide in soft repose,
“And may each hour some new-born pleasure prove,
“Unmindful of sad Lydia's poignant woes,
“Unmindful of her fond, her artless love!
“And may each hour some new-born pleasure prove,
“Unmindful of sad Lydia's poignant woes,
“Unmindful of her fond, her artless love!
“And may Celinda ever keep that heart,
“Which I so dearly priz'd, (ah, luckless maid!)
“And may she never feel that killing smart,
“Which rends the breast, by broken vows betray'd.”
“Which I so dearly priz'd, (ah, luckless maid!)
“And may she never feel that killing smart,
“Which rends the breast, by broken vows betray'd.”
The love-taught notes sweet Echo soon conveys
To an adjacent Hermit's lonely cell,
Where Heaven-born Peace her constant tribute pays,
And Solitude serene delights to dwell.
To an adjacent Hermit's lonely cell,
Where Heaven-born Peace her constant tribute pays,
And Solitude serene delights to dwell.
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The aged Sire directs his weary feet
To the dark spot where hopeless Lydia stood,
And bids her follow to his calm retreat,
Secure retirement for the just and good.
To the dark spot where hopeless Lydia stood,
And bids her follow to his calm retreat,
Secure retirement for the just and good.
There hid obscure, a few long tedious days
She bid the world and all its cares adieu;
At length, by Grief oppress'd, she gladly pays
That aweful tribute which to Nature's due.
She bid the world and all its cares adieu;
At length, by Grief oppress'd, she gladly pays
That aweful tribute which to Nature's due.
Hard by his cell he laid her faded form,
And bath'd the turf with many a tender tear,
Renew'd the pious task each op'ning morn,
And deck'd with fairest flow'rs her sable bier.
And bath'd the turf with many a tender tear,
Renew'd the pious task each op'ning morn,
And deck'd with fairest flow'rs her sable bier.
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But Heaven (for ever to the injur'd just)
To Celadon reveal'd its mighty power,
Humbled his bosom to its native dust,
And shorten'd Luxury's uncertain hour.
To Celadon reveal'd its mighty power,
Humbled his bosom to its native dust,
And shorten'd Luxury's uncertain hour.
Chill Penury, and yellow pining Care,
Blasted his hopes, in one ill-fated day,
Reduc'd him to a state of black despair,
And banish'd from his breast Hope's cheering ray:
Blasted his hopes, in one ill-fated day,
Reduc'd him to a state of black despair,
And banish'd from his breast Hope's cheering ray:
For when Celinda heard the swains relate,
In mournful strains, and sighs of heart-felt grief,
Of Lydia's constant love, and hapless fate,
Her generous confidence, and fond belief;
In mournful strains, and sighs of heart-felt grief,
Of Lydia's constant love, and hapless fate,
Her generous confidence, and fond belief;
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“No more,” she cried, “shall Celadon receive
“One partial glance from these deluded eyes,
“For the hard wretch deserves not e'en to live,
“Who to distress the pitying tear denies.”
“One partial glance from these deluded eyes,
“For the hard wretch deserves not e'en to live,
“Who to distress the pitying tear denies.”
In the recesses of a cavern deep,
Clad in a pious Hermit's sable vest,
Unseen he liv'd, in solitude to weep,
And breathe the anguish of his tortur'd breast.
Clad in a pious Hermit's sable vest,
Unseen he liv'd, in solitude to weep,
And breathe the anguish of his tortur'd breast.
Of late he wander'd from his dreary cave,
In the lone moments of departing day,
And o'er his once-lov'd Lydia's rustic grave,
In mournful numbers, sigh'd his soul away.
In the lone moments of departing day,
And o'er his once-lov'd Lydia's rustic grave,
In mournful numbers, sigh'd his soul away.
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Remember, that Benevolence is due,
E'en to the meanest animal that lives;
Heaven's sure to recompense the generous few,
Who to the wretched mild Compassion gives.
E'en to the meanest animal that lives;
Heaven's sure to recompense the generous few,
Who to the wretched mild Compassion gives.
'Till the warm stream which animates my heart
Shall stop its current, and forbear to flow,
Teach me, ye powers, soft pity to impart,
And sooth the tumults of oppressive woe!
Shall stop its current, and forbear to flow,
Teach me, ye powers, soft pity to impart,
And sooth the tumults of oppressive woe!
| Captivity, A Poem | |