 | Poems (1905) |  |
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III. Volume III
376
MISCELLANEOUS VERSES PREVIOUSLY PRINTED.
POETICAL EPISTLES.
[April, 1780.]
378
EPISTLE I. [FROM THE DEVIL. AN EPISTLE GENERAL.]
Ye Mortals, whom Poets with Verses perplex,
Whom Churchmen misguide, and Philosophers vex,
Whose Heads are disturbed with the Tenets of Schools,
Whom Terror betrays, and whom Conscience befools—
From the Regions below, with a Heart full of Love,
I send to my excellent Subjects above,
And, tho' 'tis Advice that now dictates my Strain,
I must freely confess I've no Cause to complain.
Whom Churchmen misguide, and Philosophers vex,
Whose Heads are disturbed with the Tenets of Schools,
Whom Terror betrays, and whom Conscience befools—
From the Regions below, with a Heart full of Love,
I send to my excellent Subjects above,
And, tho' 'tis Advice that now dictates my Strain,
I must freely confess I've no Cause to complain.
With Pleasure I hear, how the Demon of War
Is hurling his blessed Confusion from far,
Has bade the slow Spaniard to Battle advance
And has got a good Footing in England and France.
It delights me to find, the Designs of the Dutch
Are to move for a Peace, but to hinder it much;
For my trusty Disciples of Holland are known
To have no kind of Feeling for aught but their own;
And the Kingdoms around are, as far as I see,
Just acting the Part they have borrow'd from me.
Is hurling his blessed Confusion from far,
Has bade the slow Spaniard to Battle advance
And has got a good Footing in England and France.
It delights me to find, the Designs of the Dutch
Are to move for a Peace, but to hinder it much;
For my trusty Disciples of Holland are known
To have no kind of Feeling for aught but their own;
And the Kingdoms around are, as far as I see,
Just acting the Part they have borrow'd from me.
Nor is it without a great Share of Delight
I find so much wrong is confounded with Right.
Where Justice alone on one Party is clear,
Why, Truth may prevail and a Peace may be near;
But, where Good and Evil are properly mixed,
The Cause is obscure, and Destruction more fix'd;
Since each on the first will rest all their Pretensions,
The latter to stretch to its utmost Dimensions.
I find so much wrong is confounded with Right.
Where Justice alone on one Party is clear,
Why, Truth may prevail and a Peace may be near;
But, where Good and Evil are properly mixed,
The Cause is obscure, and Destruction more fix'd;
Since each on the first will rest all their Pretensions,
The latter to stretch to its utmost Dimensions.
With much Satisfaction, I likewise confess,
I behold so much Deviltry drop from the Press;
But this is a Subject I will not say much on,
Because what hereafter I purpose to touch on.
At present to all, in their several Degrees,
I pay my Respect in such Verses as these;
And, my rough-moving Lines should your Critics condemn,
I shall talk in a much rougher Language to them.
I behold so much Deviltry drop from the Press;
But this is a Subject I will not say much on,
Because what hereafter I purpose to touch on.
At present to all, in their several Degrees,
I pay my Respect in such Verses as these;
And, my rough-moving Lines should your Critics condemn,
I shall talk in a much rougher Language to them.
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Ye Monarchs! Ye Rulers of Nations! attend
To a Ruler, your Equal! the first Monarch's Friend!
Whose Empire at least is as large as your own,
As crowded his Army, as splendid his Throne;
His Spirit as great, and, whatever his Cause,
A greater Obedience is paid to his Laws!
Attend and receive your Instructions from me;
Though a Counsellor famous, I covet no fee;
Prefer me before all your ignoble Tribe—
What Mortal in Black ever acts without Bribe?
To a Ruler, your Equal! the first Monarch's Friend!
Whose Empire at least is as large as your own,
As crowded his Army, as splendid his Throne;
His Spirit as great, and, whatever his Cause,
A greater Obedience is paid to his Laws!
Attend and receive your Instructions from me;
Though a Counsellor famous, I covet no fee;
Prefer me before all your ignoble Tribe—
What Mortal in Black ever acts without Bribe?
Let Empire unbounded your Bosoms possess;
You're as noble as Cæsar, and scorn to be less.
Be your Counsellors such as may aid your Designs—
Good Jockeys, great Gamblers, rare Judges of Wines!
And then, should you happen to fail in your Ends,
Your People may lay all the Blame on your Friends,
And say, “'tis a pity a Monarch so just
Such a pack of damn'd Villainous Fellows should trust.”
You're as noble as Cæsar, and scorn to be less.
Be your Counsellors such as may aid your Designs—
Good Jockeys, great Gamblers, rare Judges of Wines!
And then, should you happen to fail in your Ends,
Your People may lay all the Blame on your Friends,
And say, “'tis a pity a Monarch so just
Such a pack of damn'd Villainous Fellows should trust.”
Nor judge in this Case my Advice is confin'd:
Be it common as Air, and as free as the Wind;
Obey'd in the Climes which Sol scarce can appear in,
Caress'd in the Countries he passes the year in!
Nor would I like him from my Friends fly away:
Wherever I'm courted I constantly stay,
To Spain, France, or Flanders extending my Care,
And England! in spite of my Enemies there.
With its monarch of old I was social and free,
And the Present must die—that's some Comfort to me.
Be it common as Air, and as free as the Wind;
Obey'd in the Climes which Sol scarce can appear in,
Caress'd in the Countries he passes the year in!
Nor would I like him from my Friends fly away:
Wherever I'm courted I constantly stay,
To Spain, France, or Flanders extending my Care,
And England! in spite of my Enemies there.
With its monarch of old I was social and free,
And the Present must die—that's some Comfort to me.
Believe me, my Brethren—for when I advise
I always speak Truth, tho' the Father of Lies—
'Tis a foolish Mistake to imagine Mankind
Were not for their Monarch's good Pleasure design'd.
We know and believe they're as truly his own
As the Farmer's his Beast, or the wheat he has sown;
And he's a most stupid and scandalous Block
Who would not be part of so noble a Stock,
To fetch and to carry, be curried and fed,
As his Master has Work, or his Master has Bread.
I always speak Truth, tho' the Father of Lies—
'Tis a foolish Mistake to imagine Mankind
Were not for their Monarch's good Pleasure design'd.
We know and believe they're as truly his own
As the Farmer's his Beast, or the wheat he has sown;
And he's a most stupid and scandalous Block
Who would not be part of so noble a Stock,
To fetch and to carry, be curried and fed,
As his Master has Work, or his Master has Bread.
Ye Statesmen, I next to your Honours apply:
Ye know the old Subject; ye ken who am I!
I would give each Advice how to act in his Station;
But most have without it entire Approbation.
Nay, let us confess, and give Mortals their due,
We borrow a great many Maxims from you!
And would ne'er have you heed what your Satirists say,
Who expose to the World all your pensions and pay.
Such Wretches, by jealous Emotions betray'd,
Are as knavish as you, and yet never get paid.
Ye know the old Subject; ye ken who am I!
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But most have without it entire Approbation.
Nay, let us confess, and give Mortals their due,
We borrow a great many Maxims from you!
And would ne'er have you heed what your Satirists say,
Who expose to the World all your pensions and pay.
Such Wretches, by jealous Emotions betray'd,
Are as knavish as you, and yet never get paid.
Sejanus politely his Compliments sends,
To show he remembers his very good Friends,
And tells you, with Grief which his Feelings betray,
He hears ye are some of ye veering away.
If this—and there's Reason to fear it—be true,
I'd have ye consider what end ye pursue;
You'll find you've a very bad bargain at last,
Despis'd for the present and damn'd for the past.
To show he remembers his very good Friends,
And tells you, with Grief which his Feelings betray,
He hears ye are some of ye veering away.
If this—and there's Reason to fear it—be true,
I'd have ye consider what end ye pursue;
You'll find you've a very bad bargain at last,
Despis'd for the present and damn'd for the past.
Ye Commons, your Nation's most able Protectors,
Ye generous Elected, ye well-paid Electors,
Your Patron here greets you, and, though but in Song,
He praises the Path ye have mov'd in so long—
A Path he has form'd with such exquisite Care
That it leads you directly, he need not say where.
Ye generous Elected, ye well-paid Electors,
Your Patron here greets you, and, though but in Song,
He praises the Path ye have mov'd in so long—
A Path he has form'd with such exquisite Care
That it leads you directly, he need not say where.
At a Crisis important to Europe and us,
It becomes us, my Friends, to act constantly thus:
To stick to our Cause with a strong perseverance,
Else Nobody knows what may happen a year hence;
For in Times of Disturbance 'tis frequently seen,
That Virtue's more busy than when they're serene;
And, from a good Spirit in brisk fermentation,
A Clear-settled Habit may reign in each Nation;
The which to prevent 'tis my serious Command
You carefully lend each his Heart and his Hand.
It becomes us, my Friends, to act constantly thus:
To stick to our Cause with a strong perseverance,
Else Nobody knows what may happen a year hence;
For in Times of Disturbance 'tis frequently seen,
That Virtue's more busy than when they're serene;
And, from a good Spirit in brisk fermentation,
A Clear-settled Habit may reign in each Nation;
The which to prevent 'tis my serious Command
You carefully lend each his Heart and his Hand.
In England I've studied that People's Condition,
And seen the Contents of each County's petition;
By which I collect, with a Logic my own,
The Seeds of Dissension are properly sown;
And I'm not without Hope but, if suffer'd to grow,
I may reap in due Time what I taught you to sow.
But I'm sorry to find that, in spite of my Care
For that Country's Estate, I've my Enemies there,
Whom though I've attended with studious Skill,
I don't know a people have us'd me so ill.
And seen the Contents of each County's petition;
By which I collect, with a Logic my own,
The Seeds of Dissension are properly sown;
And I'm not without Hope but, if suffer'd to grow,
I may reap in due Time what I taught you to sow.
But I'm sorry to find that, in spite of my Care
For that Country's Estate, I've my Enemies there,
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I don't know a people have us'd me so ill.
Go, Wretches ingrate; see my Subjects in France,
With what excellent skill they my Business advance!
Do they stick to Agreements, or such Kind of Things?
Is there Truth in their Courtiers, or Faith in their Kings?
Their Notions of Honour, or keeping of Treaties,
Are govern'd by that kind of Body their Fleet is;
While you of a Nation I take such Delight in
Are inferior in Fraud, tho' you beat them at fighting.
With what excellent skill they my Business advance!
Do they stick to Agreements, or such Kind of Things?
Is there Truth in their Courtiers, or Faith in their Kings?
Their Notions of Honour, or keeping of Treaties,
Are govern'd by that kind of Body their Fleet is;
While you of a Nation I take such Delight in
Are inferior in Fraud, tho' you beat them at fighting.
Ye Spirits uncurb'd by the Dictates of Schools,
The Lectures of Priests, or Morality's Rules,
Or the pitifull Dreams of the Herd we dispise—
The Puritan dull, and the Prelate precise;
Ye learned Philosophers, Deists devout,
Who know not the Depth of the Thing you're about—
But, I'm willing to own it, 'tis proper you should
And Satan here thanks you: ye've done him much Good.
The Lectures of Priests, or Morality's Rules,
Or the pitifull Dreams of the Herd we dispise—
The Puritan dull, and the Prelate precise;
Ye learned Philosophers, Deists devout,
Who know not the Depth of the Thing you're about—
But, I'm willing to own it, 'tis proper you should
And Satan here thanks you: ye've done him much Good.
Before ye began to reform Men's Opinions,
How bounded my Realm, how restrain'd my Dominions!
But now, since 'tis clear that there's no Revelation,
I've a pretty good Footing, my Friends, in the Nation;
And I'd have you go on with each learn'd Dissertation.
For our firmest Adherents we commonly call
The Man who believes there's no Devil at all;
And, as you so clearly convince your attendants
We're nothing, and all our good Company send hence,
Your learned Opinion, I find as I read it,
Advances my Gain, whilst it shatters my Credit,
As Bankrupts who wilfully plunge into Shame,
To gain in their purse what they lose in their Fame.
How bounded my Realm, how restrain'd my Dominions!
But now, since 'tis clear that there's no Revelation,
I've a pretty good Footing, my Friends, in the Nation;
And I'd have you go on with each learn'd Dissertation.
For our firmest Adherents we commonly call
The Man who believes there's no Devil at all;
And, as you so clearly convince your attendants
We're nothing, and all our good Company send hence,
Your learned Opinion, I find as I read it,
Advances my Gain, whilst it shatters my Credit,
As Bankrupts who wilfully plunge into Shame,
To gain in their purse what they lose in their Fame.
For the learned, the wise, and the deep-sighted Few,
I've an excellent Work which I'd have ye pursue!
Your Genius may mend a dull Devil's Designs,
May alter my Manner, and polish my Lines.
The Scheme is exalted! is quite in your walk;
And I care not in what kind of Language I talk.
'Tis to prove to Mankind, to whom pleasures belong,
Your Moralists, too, as your Pastors, are wrong;
That not to Religion alone is confin'd
Our work, but a full Reformation's design'd;
Till your Country all Kinds of Enjoyment excell in,
And [become] much the Kind of a Place which we dwell in.
I've an excellent Work which I'd have ye pursue!
Your Genius may mend a dull Devil's Designs,
May alter my Manner, and polish my Lines.
The Scheme is exalted! is quite in your walk;
And I care not in what kind of Language I talk.
'Tis to prove to Mankind, to whom pleasures belong,
Your Moralists, too, as your Pastors, are wrong;
That not to Religion alone is confin'd
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Till your Country all Kinds of Enjoyment excell in,
And [become] much the Kind of a Place which we dwell in.
But first you'll my Congratulations receive
For the exquisite Pleasure your arguments give,
Which we hear with a vast deal of Joy and Delight
At Coachmakers' Hall, almost every Night,
And are so entertain'd with the things in that Style
That we'd thoughts of erecting our Houses-Carlisle.
But the Motion was quash'd on a due recollection—
Our good Subjects here ev'ry Party and Sect shun—
That we have the same Constant Business in View,
And can never dissent in opinion like you;
Nor suffer we here any Authors to write;
And to talk of the State, why, 'tis deemed unpolite;
And the Point Revelation, that's banish'd your Creed,
Would not move a Debate where we all are agreed;
Nor have we a Subject which Satan can reckon
Is fit for a Genius among us to speak on.
For the exquisite Pleasure your arguments give,
Which we hear with a vast deal of Joy and Delight
At Coachmakers' Hall, almost every Night,
And are so entertain'd with the things in that Style
That we'd thoughts of erecting our Houses-Carlisle.
But the Motion was quash'd on a due recollection—
Our good Subjects here ev'ry Party and Sect shun—
That we have the same Constant Business in View,
And can never dissent in opinion like you;
Nor suffer we here any Authors to write;
And to talk of the State, why, 'tis deemed unpolite;
And the Point Revelation, that's banish'd your Creed,
Would not move a Debate where we all are agreed;
Nor have we a Subject which Satan can reckon
Is fit for a Genius among us to speak on.
But, by Way of Digression, we can but admire
That your Ladies to argue should cooly desire,
Should one at a Time any Subject discuss:
They ne'er could be brought to that Order with us.
But they still altogether their Subjects pursue
With the Knack which they formerly had among you;
And we marvel that Men of Discretion can teach
To such Lips the all-conquering Graces of Speech!
That your Ladies to argue should cooly desire,
Should one at a Time any Subject discuss:
They ne'er could be brought to that Order with us.
But they still altogether their Subjects pursue
With the Knack which they formerly had among you;
And we marvel that Men of Discretion can teach
To such Lips the all-conquering Graces of Speech!
But my Plan to return to, ye Sages, assist;
Let's our Heads lay together, our Arguments twist,
And prove by the Light we thought proper to kindle
In our dearly beloved, our Toland and Tindal!
With Arguments all unresisted as these,
That men have a right to do just what they please;
And, because I shall chance my own Worth to proclaim,
My Actions, my Spirit, my Merit and Fame,
With Modesty such as you can but approve
I shall speak in the Words of my Vot'ries above.
Let's our Heads lay together, our Arguments twist,
And prove by the Light we thought proper to kindle
In our dearly beloved, our Toland and Tindal!
With Arguments all unresisted as these,
That men have a right to do just what they please;
And, because I shall chance my own Worth to proclaim,
My Actions, my Spirit, my Merit and Fame,
With Modesty such as you can but approve
I shall speak in the Words of my Vot'ries above.
Yet, again to digress: you must never suppose
But even the learned are sometimes my Foes;
Nor is it a volatile Genius alone,
Or eccentric Attempt, that proclaims you my own,
There was Priestley, they told me, had wrote in my Cause,
And publish'd good Things with a deal of Applause;
But 'tis mere Imposition—he scribble for me!
He scrawl in my Favour! No, damn him, not he!
Yet 'tis some Consolation that Blunderers make
His meanings so strange, that they're ours by Mistake.
But even the learned are sometimes my Foes;
Nor is it a volatile Genius alone,
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There was Priestley, they told me, had wrote in my Cause,
And publish'd good Things with a deal of Applause;
But 'tis mere Imposition—he scribble for me!
He scrawl in my Favour! No, damn him, not he!
Yet 'tis some Consolation that Blunderers make
His meanings so strange, that they're ours by Mistake.
And now, having settled the principal Points,
Your Master the Head of his Prophet anoints,
And, judging all Conscience no more in the Way,
Thus bids you to sing, or thus bids you to say.
Your Master the Head of his Prophet anoints,
And, judging all Conscience no more in the Way,
Thus bids you to sing, or thus bids you to say.
“What pictures of Life do the Dogmatists paint!
“What a dull Dissertation comes forth from the Saint!
“How they roar against Sin and contribute to drub
“Every Demon from Earth, both in Pulpit and Tub;
“Enjoyment how plaguily low do they rate it,
“How rail at all Pleasure, and tell you they hate it;
“As Jockeys, designing to purchase your Horse,
“Will assure you no Mortal on Earth has a worse,
“Display ev'ry Failing with exquisite Skill,
“Yet bestride him themselves with a hearty good Will!
“What a dull Dissertation comes forth from the Saint!
“How they roar against Sin and contribute to drub
“Every Demon from Earth, both in Pulpit and Tub;
“Enjoyment how plaguily low do they rate it,
“How rail at all Pleasure, and tell you they hate it;
“As Jockeys, designing to purchase your Horse,
“Will assure you no Mortal on Earth has a worse,
“Display ev'ry Failing with exquisite Skill,
“Yet bestride him themselves with a hearty good Will!
“'Twere well if the Earth had their Censure engross'd;
“But the Devil engages their Spleen to his Cost!
“Poor Devil! from whom half our Blessings accrue,—
“But the Saints give to no one the Qualities due.
“Else, how might they praise without Flatt'ry's Appearance
“His Honour, his Spirit, his known Perseverance;
“How seldom his Friendship's remember'd to alter;
“How he smiles on the Block, and how softens the Halter!
“The Friends to his Cause he with Spirit supports,
“Attends them at Tyburn, conveys them to Courts;
“With noble Profusion gives all he can give,
“And scorns to forsake them, so long as they live;
“In mystery deep, a great Metaphysician;
“In history known, and a rare Politician;
“A merry Companion, yet sage in due Places,
“He knows good Behaviour and studies the Graces;
“Can the Springs of good Humour and Harmony feel—
“Not Stanhope himself could be half so genteel;
“Is the last to disturb them where people are gay,
“And the first to drive stupid Reflection away.
“Then spare him, ye Preachers, without whose assistance
“Your dull Congregations as well were at Distance;
“Retract your Abuse, wheresoever you've spread it,
“And lament your Attack on a Gentleman's Credit.
“But the Devil engages their Spleen to his Cost!
“Poor Devil! from whom half our Blessings accrue,—
“But the Saints give to no one the Qualities due.
“Else, how might they praise without Flatt'ry's Appearance
“His Honour, his Spirit, his known Perseverance;
“How seldom his Friendship's remember'd to alter;
“How he smiles on the Block, and how softens the Halter!
“The Friends to his Cause he with Spirit supports,
“Attends them at Tyburn, conveys them to Courts;
“With noble Profusion gives all he can give,
“And scorns to forsake them, so long as they live;
“In mystery deep, a great Metaphysician;
“In history known, and a rare Politician;
“A merry Companion, yet sage in due Places,
“He knows good Behaviour and studies the Graces;
“Can the Springs of good Humour and Harmony feel—
“Not Stanhope himself could be half so genteel;
“Is the last to disturb them where people are gay,
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“Then spare him, ye Preachers, without whose assistance
“Your dull Congregations as well were at Distance;
“Retract your Abuse, wheresoever you've spread it,
“And lament your Attack on a Gentleman's Credit.
“Would you know the vile Sources of Sorrow and Grief,
“We're fully persuaded We'll tell you the Chief.
“But, first, 'tis but right we our Talents should use
“To take from the Guiltless a Load of abuse.
“We're fully persuaded We'll tell you the Chief.
“But, first, 'tis but right we our Talents should use
“To take from the Guiltless a Load of abuse.
“Our Moralists tell us, indulg'd Inclinations
“Breed all our Disasters, and nurse our Vexations;
“That Sin, Satan's Daughter, as Milton has told us,
“Has dealt to Mankind all the Plagues which enfold us.
“'Tis false—I acquit her with lenient Sentence;
“The Plagues they describe are the Plagues of Repentance;
“And surely 'tis hard we should blame her for Woes
“She strives to keep from us wherever she goes.
“To bully Devotion and banter her Laws,
“To seduce a Weak Mind, and to plead in the Cause,
“A Friend to betray, or a Father to wound,
“And revel in Folly's fantastical round,
“Are Vices, they cry—but they make a Man known,
“Give Honour, give Pleasure, and Fame and Renown,
“Are Gentlemen's Actions, and Joy must accrue
“From Actions which Gentlemen so often do;
“And, in spite of what Moralists tell us, I find
“The antient Philosophers were of our Mind:
“Who, each in his Way, though to wisdom akin,
“Have labour'd to beautify some kind of Sin.
“Then why should we fear on dull Morals to trample,
“Who're blest with the Boon of such noble Example?
“Breed all our Disasters, and nurse our Vexations;
“That Sin, Satan's Daughter, as Milton has told us,
“Has dealt to Mankind all the Plagues which enfold us.
“'Tis false—I acquit her with lenient Sentence;
“The Plagues they describe are the Plagues of Repentance;
“And surely 'tis hard we should blame her for Woes
“She strives to keep from us wherever she goes.
“To bully Devotion and banter her Laws,
“To seduce a Weak Mind, and to plead in the Cause,
“A Friend to betray, or a Father to wound,
“And revel in Folly's fantastical round,
“Are Vices, they cry—but they make a Man known,
“Give Honour, give Pleasure, and Fame and Renown,
“Are Gentlemen's Actions, and Joy must accrue
“From Actions which Gentlemen so often do;
“And, in spite of what Moralists tell us, I find
“The antient Philosophers were of our Mind:
“Who, each in his Way, though to wisdom akin,
“Have labour'd to beautify some kind of Sin.
“Then why should we fear on dull Morals to trample,
“Who're blest with the Boon of such noble Example?
“To Sickness and cruel Disease are assign'd
“A part of the Sorrows which trouble Mankind;
“But do we not see how Mankind are agreed
“To be sick unto Death when there can be no Need?
“Why faints the soft Nymph? Why the Vapours and Spleen?
“What can Nameless Complaints and Infirmities mean—
“The pain of a Moment, the Headache at will,
“Or the languor that's cur'd without Julep or Pill?
“Why riots the Youth, so unhappily sleek?
“Why poisons the Maid the pure Blood in her Cheek?
“How happens it, Mortals are jumbled together
“Without Care in Crowds and in all kinds of Weather?
“Or why press the Throng at Assemblies so thick,
“If people had not a Delight to be sick?
“A part of the Sorrows which trouble Mankind;
“But do we not see how Mankind are agreed
“To be sick unto Death when there can be no Need?
“Why faints the soft Nymph? Why the Vapours and Spleen?
“What can Nameless Complaints and Infirmities mean—
“The pain of a Moment, the Headache at will,
“Or the languor that's cur'd without Julep or Pill?
“Why riots the Youth, so unhappily sleek?
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“How happens it, Mortals are jumbled together
“Without Care in Crowds and in all kinds of Weather?
“Or why press the Throng at Assemblies so thick,
“If people had not a Delight to be sick?
“What then are the Causes of human Distress?
“Let Pedants and Preachers have Grace to confess:
“There's nothing such varied Disasters can hit
“Like Religion and Virtue, Good Nature and Wit.
“Let Pedants and Preachers have Grace to confess:
“There's nothing such varied Disasters can hit
“Like Religion and Virtue, Good Nature and Wit.
“Religion, what horrid Opinions it starts,
“How it cramps our Ambition, and deadens our Hearts;
“Continually plagues us with Lectures from Heaven,
“And robs us the Year round of one Day in seven;
“Denies to the Passions the Flowers in their Road,
“And carps at the varying Designs of the Mode!
“It teaches few Fashions but such as, we find,
“Have been hiss'd from good Company, Time out of Mind;
“Affords us no rule for the Cut of a Coat,
“Nor winks at the Science of cutting a Throat;
“A tenth of each Man's Cultivation commands,
“And threatens us all in Return for our Lands;
“Still presses the More like a Dun for Neglect,
“And is never contented with civil Respect;
“Intrudes in the Dance, and grows grave in the Song,
“And conjures up Conscience with all her dull Throng.
“How it cramps our Ambition, and deadens our Hearts;
“Continually plagues us with Lectures from Heaven,
“And robs us the Year round of one Day in seven;
“Denies to the Passions the Flowers in their Road,
“And carps at the varying Designs of the Mode!
“It teaches few Fashions but such as, we find,
“Have been hiss'd from good Company, Time out of Mind;
“Affords us no rule for the Cut of a Coat,
“Nor winks at the Science of cutting a Throat;
“A tenth of each Man's Cultivation commands,
“And threatens us all in Return for our Lands;
“Still presses the More like a Dun for Neglect,
“And is never contented with civil Respect;
“Intrudes in the Dance, and grows grave in the Song,
“And conjures up Conscience with all her dull Throng.
“And Virtue—what's Virtue? an obstinate Cur,
“Who clings to a Rock and refuses to stir;
“Whose Lectures on Life are a plague beyond bearing;
“So he snaps at your Heels, till you're quite out of hearing.
“But hearken to him, and he'll tell you the Fancies
“Which please the poor School-Boy in Tales and Romances:
“How he and his Friends have defeated the Crimes
“Of voluptuous Aspirers in horrible Times;
“By Patience and Prating done wonderfull Things
“To Women consumptive, and Death-alarm'd Kings.
“But tell me when Virtue got any Man Pension'd,
“Or procur'd him a Title that's fit to be mention'd,
“Or taught him to talk for the Praise of the Nation,
“Or dictated Themes for a publick Oration?
“Did it ever a Brilliant Assembly advance,
“Or import sound Politeness and Claret from France?
“Not this; but it hobbles in Gait and in speech
“And, laught at by all, is still aiming to teach;
“From the gentle ‘in modo’ will angrily flee,
“But sternly adhere to the hatefull ‘in re.’
“Who clings to a Rock and refuses to stir;
“Whose Lectures on Life are a plague beyond bearing;
“So he snaps at your Heels, till you're quite out of hearing.
“But hearken to him, and he'll tell you the Fancies
“Which please the poor School-Boy in Tales and Romances:
“How he and his Friends have defeated the Crimes
“Of voluptuous Aspirers in horrible Times;
“By Patience and Prating done wonderfull Things
“To Women consumptive, and Death-alarm'd Kings.
“But tell me when Virtue got any Man Pension'd,
“Or procur'd him a Title that's fit to be mention'd,
“Or taught him to talk for the Praise of the Nation,
“Or dictated Themes for a publick Oration?
“Did it ever a Brilliant Assembly advance,
386
“Not this; but it hobbles in Gait and in speech
“And, laught at by all, is still aiming to teach;
“From the gentle ‘in modo’ will angrily flee,
“But sternly adhere to the hatefull ‘in re.’
“And what is a properer Object of Satire
“Than that most ridiculous Failing, Good-nature?
“Do you know a Man laugh'd at by all his Acquaintance,
“Despis'd and disdain'd by the People he maintains;
“Too grave for a Wit, and too mean for a Beau;
“A Clown who does nothing as other Men do;
“An Awkwardly-generous, blundering Thing,
“Who stoops to a Beggar and stares on a King;
“A Creature who makes no Distinction at all
“'Twixt a Speech in the Vestry and one in the Hall—
“Leoni who warbles, or Porters who bawl;
“His Heart without Judgment, his Head without Rule
“And, merely for want of Discretion, a Fool;
“Whose Mind with a pitiful Tale is possess'd;
“Who is every one's Friend, yet is every one's Jest;
“Who blunders thro' Life without forming a Plan,
“Is that poor stupid Mortal—a good-natur'd Man.
“Than that most ridiculous Failing, Good-nature?
“Do you know a Man laugh'd at by all his Acquaintance,
“Despis'd and disdain'd by the People he maintains;
“Too grave for a Wit, and too mean for a Beau;
“A Clown who does nothing as other Men do;
“An Awkwardly-generous, blundering Thing,
“Who stoops to a Beggar and stares on a King;
“A Creature who makes no Distinction at all
“'Twixt a Speech in the Vestry and one in the Hall—
“Leoni who warbles, or Porters who bawl;
“His Heart without Judgment, his Head without Rule
“And, merely for want of Discretion, a Fool;
“Whose Mind with a pitiful Tale is possess'd;
“Who is every one's Friend, yet is every one's Jest;
“Who blunders thro' Life without forming a Plan,
“Is that poor stupid Mortal—a good-natur'd Man.
“But of all the vile Things which torment or molest us
“Wit a thousand times worse than the worst of the rest is:
“The Poison [that's] banish'd from every Table,
“As far as the People of Fashion are able,
“To the Bookworms in Schools, and the Grooms of the Stable.
“A Man who has Wit is more proud than the Devil;
“Is never so welcome, is never so civil;
“With Absolute Tenets as stern as the Church's,
“He lashes the failings his wealth can not purchase;
“Is ever awakening his Enemies' Slumber,
“Lamenting his Foes, yet increasing their Number.
“So dirty, no Gentleman cares to go near him,
“And sensible Women don't know how to bear him.
“His Wit is rebellious, and, as a Man's Wife,
“If it conquers him once, 'tis his Master for Life;
“And, though there are things it may chance to produce
“If it takes the right turn of an excellent use,
“Yet, 'tis plain to be seen, it extinguishes Merit
“And dashes the Efforts of Genius and Spirit.”
“Wit a thousand times worse than the worst of the rest is:
“The Poison [that's] banish'd from every Table,
“As far as the People of Fashion are able,
“To the Bookworms in Schools, and the Grooms of the Stable.
“A Man who has Wit is more proud than the Devil;
“Is never so welcome, is never so civil;
“With Absolute Tenets as stern as the Church's,
“He lashes the failings his wealth can not purchase;
“Is ever awakening his Enemies' Slumber,
“Lamenting his Foes, yet increasing their Number.
“So dirty, no Gentleman cares to go near him,
“And sensible Women don't know how to bear him.
“His Wit is rebellious, and, as a Man's Wife,
“If it conquers him once, 'tis his Master for Life;
“And, though there are things it may chance to produce
“If it takes the right turn of an excellent use,
387
“And dashes the Efforts of Genius and Spirit.”
But, not to perplex you with tedious Instruction,
I hope this may serve for a good Introduction;
And, leaving the rest of the Business to you,
Beloved and Trusty, I bid you adieu!
I hope this may serve for a good Introduction;
And, leaving the rest of the Business to you,
Beloved and Trusty, I bid you adieu!
EPISTLE II. [FROM THE AUTHOR.]
TO MIRA.
'Tis by Contrast we shine; without Withers and Prynne,
What had Butler or Wits of that Century been?
Or how, without Dunces, had Dryden or Pope
The strength of their great Reputation kept up?
The Pleasures we share from the Dawning of Light
Are doubled by Thoughts of its following Night;
And Virtue and Sweetness like yours shall repay us
For poring so long over Satan's Affairs.
At your Company then do not think to repine:
You the fairer appear—for by Contrast we shine.
What had Butler or Wits of that Century been?
Or how, without Dunces, had Dryden or Pope
The strength of their great Reputation kept up?
The Pleasures we share from the Dawning of Light
Are doubled by Thoughts of its following Night;
And Virtue and Sweetness like yours shall repay us
For poring so long over Satan's Affairs.
At your Company then do not think to repine:
You the fairer appear—for by Contrast we shine.
What a Life, my dear Maid, do the Heavens decree
For the Dreamers of Dreams, for the Learned—for me:
Where pale Disappointment awakes to molest
The Study-vex'd Head, and the Sorrow-torn Breast.
Pity much, though you blame, the dull Spleen of your Swain,
Who has Cause to deplore and, he thinks, to complain:
That Fortune has soil'd the gay Dress of each Dream;
That Time has o'erthrown every fairy-built Scheme;
That thinking has slacken'd the Force of his Nerves,
And his Study has met with—the Fate it deserves.
For the Dreamers of Dreams, for the Learned—for me:
Where pale Disappointment awakes to molest
The Study-vex'd Head, and the Sorrow-torn Breast.
Pity much, though you blame, the dull Spleen of your Swain,
Who has Cause to deplore and, he thinks, to complain:
That Fortune has soil'd the gay Dress of each Dream;
That Time has o'erthrown every fairy-built Scheme;
That thinking has slacken'd the Force of his Nerves,
And his Study has met with—the Fate it deserves.
What a Plague was my Meaning to add to my own
The Cares of a Kind which I need not have known!
When Nature and Fortune had given their Part,
'Twas stupid to borrow Dejection from Art,
And, with Trouble a pretty large Portion before,
To pilfer Perplexities out of her Store.
The Cares of a Kind which I need not have known!
When Nature and Fortune had given their Part,
'Twas stupid to borrow Dejection from Art,
And, with Trouble a pretty large Portion before,
To pilfer Perplexities out of her Store.
388
See the Fate of Ambition—contented with Rhyme,
I had softened the Features of Sorrow and Time;
Had play'd with the Evils I might not refuse,
And soften'd their Frowns with the Tears of the Muse;
Had mov'd in Life's Path with a Sigh and a Song,
And laugh'd at her Rubs as I stumbled along.
But, smitten with Science, I've laboured to lay
A thousand impediments more in my way;
And, because my poor Muse was too gentle a Guide
To smooth the rough Way, and to sing by my Side,
I've coveted Learning, a dangerous Thing
To drag through the Road, and who never could sing.
I had softened the Features of Sorrow and Time;
Had play'd with the Evils I might not refuse,
And soften'd their Frowns with the Tears of the Muse;
Had mov'd in Life's Path with a Sigh and a Song,
And laugh'd at her Rubs as I stumbled along.
But, smitten with Science, I've laboured to lay
A thousand impediments more in my way;
And, because my poor Muse was too gentle a Guide
To smooth the rough Way, and to sing by my Side,
I've coveted Learning, a dangerous Thing
To drag through the Road, and who never could sing.
Of Substance I've thought, and the various Disputes
On the Nature of Man, and the Notions of Brutes;
Of simple and complex Ideas I've read,
How they rose into Life and spring up in my Head;
That the Frolicks I love, and the Fashions I hate,
Are from Causes without, and they rule not innate;
I've studied with stupid Attention and Skill
The Destiny's Law, and the Bounds of the Will;
On the Nature of Man, and the Notions of Brutes;
Of simple and complex Ideas I've read,
How they rose into Life and spring up in my Head;
That the Frolicks I love, and the Fashions I hate,
Are from Causes without, and they rule not innate;
I've studied with stupid Attention and Skill
The Destiny's Law, and the Bounds of the Will;
Of Systems confuted, and Systems explain'd;
Of Science disputed, and Tenets maintain'd;
How Matter and Spirit dissent or unite;
How vary the Natures of Fire and of Light;
How Bodies excentric, concentric shall be;
How Authors divide where they seem to agree;
How dissenting unite, by a Touch of the Quill
Which bodies a Meaning, in what Form they will:
These and such Speculations, on these Kind of Things,
Have robb'd my poor Muse of her Plume and her Wings;
Consum'd the Phlogiston you us'd to admire;
The Spirit extracted, extinguish'd the Fire;
Let out all the Aether so pure and refin'd,
And left but a mere Caput-Mortuum behind.
Of Science disputed, and Tenets maintain'd;
How Matter and Spirit dissent or unite;
How vary the Natures of Fire and of Light;
How Bodies excentric, concentric shall be;
How Authors divide where they seem to agree;
How dissenting unite, by a Touch of the Quill
Which bodies a Meaning, in what Form they will:
These and such Speculations, on these Kind of Things,
Have robb'd my poor Muse of her Plume and her Wings;
Consum'd the Phlogiston you us'd to admire;
The Spirit extracted, extinguish'd the Fire;
Let out all the Aether so pure and refin'd,
And left but a mere Caput-Mortuum behind.
Ah, Priestley! thou Foe to my Numbers, what need
To shock my poor Muses? Thou dost not my Creed,
With Schemes, Dissertations, and Arguments strong
Which I know not how right, and I care not how wrong.
Thou great Necessarian, must I suppose
The Flight of my Verse is o'er rul'd by thy prose;
And that Matters have been unavoidably led,
That thou must have written, and I must have read?
'Tis certain—for what but a Bias of Fate
Could have tied me so long to the Subjects I hate?
To shock my poor Muses? Thou dost not my Creed,
With Schemes, Dissertations, and Arguments strong
Which I know not how right, and I care not how wrong.
Thou great Necessarian, must I suppose
The Flight of my Verse is o'er rul'd by thy prose;
389
That thou must have written, and I must have read?
'Tis certain—for what but a Bias of Fate
Could have tied me so long to the Subjects I hate?
O! blest be the Time, when, my Mira, we stray'd
Where the Nightingale perch'd, and the wanton winds play'd;
Where these were the Secrets of Nature we knew,
That her Roses were red, and her Vi'lets were blue;
That soft was the Gloom of the Summer-swell'd shade,
And melting the Fall of the dying Cascade.
Where the Nightingale perch'd, and the wanton winds play'd;
Where these were the Secrets of Nature we knew,
That her Roses were red, and her Vi'lets were blue;
That soft was the Gloom of the Summer-swell'd shade,
And melting the Fall of the dying Cascade.
Blest, the Song shall repeat, be the Pleasures that reign
In the plenty-prest Vale, on the green-vested Plain!
Give Locke to the Winds, and lay Hume on the Fire;
Let Metaphysicians in Darkness expire,
And Fatalists, Fabulists, Logicians fall by
The Laws which Necessity modulates all by;
Let the Slumber of Sense, and the Silence of Spleen,
Lay hold upon Priestley, that learned Machine;
Or, what will to us, my dear Maid, be the same,
May we cease to admire each ostensible Name,
And, blest with those Pleasures the Muses desire,
See Learning, unenvied, to Students retire!
In the plenty-prest Vale, on the green-vested Plain!
Give Locke to the Winds, and lay Hume on the Fire;
Let Metaphysicians in Darkness expire,
And Fatalists, Fabulists, Logicians fall by
The Laws which Necessity modulates all by;
Let the Slumber of Sense, and the Silence of Spleen,
Lay hold upon Priestley, that learned Machine;
Or, what will to us, my dear Maid, be the same,
May we cease to admire each ostensible Name,
And, blest with those Pleasures the Muses desire,
See Learning, unenvied, to Students retire!
[FROM BELVOIR CASTLE.]
[About 1782–3.]
Oh! had I but a little hut
That I might hide my head in;
Where never guest might dare molest,
Unwelcome or unbidden.
That I might hide my head in;
Where never guest might dare molest,
Unwelcome or unbidden.
I'd take the jokes of other folks
And mine should then succeed 'em;
Nor would I chide a little pride,
Or heed a little freedom.
[OMITTED]
And mine should then succeed 'em;
Nor would I chide a little pride,
Or heed a little freedom.
399
[THE NEW SAMARITAN.]
A weary Traveller walk'd his way,
With grief and want and pain opprest.
His looks were sad, his locks were grey;
He sought for food, he sigh'd for rest.
With grief and want and pain opprest.
His looks were sad, his locks were grey;
He sought for food, he sigh'd for rest.
A wealthy grazier pass'd—“Attend,”
The sufferer cried—“some aid allow!”—
“Thou art not of my parish, Friend;
“Nor am I in mine office now.”
The sufferer cried—“some aid allow!”—
“Thou art not of my parish, Friend;
“Nor am I in mine office now.”
He dropt, and more impatient pray'd—
A mild adviser heard the word:
“Be patient, Friend!” he kindly said,
“And wait the leisure of the Lord.”
A mild adviser heard the word:
“Be patient, Friend!” he kindly said,
“And wait the leisure of the Lord.”
Another comes!—“Turn, stranger, turn!”
“Not so!” replied a voice: “I mean
“The candle of the Lord to burn
“With mine own flock on Save-all Green;
“Not so!” replied a voice: “I mean
“The candle of the Lord to burn
“With mine own flock on Save-all Green;
“To war with Satan, thrust for thrust;
“To gain my lamb he led astray;
“The Spirit drives me: on I must—
“Yea, woe is me, if I delay!”
“To gain my lamb he led astray;
“The Spirit drives me: on I must—
“Yea, woe is me, if I delay!”
But Woman came! by Heaven design'd
To ease the heart that throbs with pain—
She gave relief—abundant—kind—
And bade him go in peace again.
To ease the heart that throbs with pain—
She gave relief—abundant—kind—
And bade him go in peace again.
400
BELVOIR CASTLE.
When native Britons British lands possess'd—
Their glory freedom, and their blessing rest—
A powerful chief this lofty Seat survey'd,
And here his mansion's strong foundation laid.
In his own ground the massy stone he sought,
From his own woods the rugged timbers brought,
Rudeness and greatness in his work combined—
An humble taste with an aspiring mind.
His herds the vale, his flocks the hills, o'erspread;
Warriors and vassals at his table fed;
Sons, kindred, servants, waited on his will,
And hail'd his mansion on the mighty hill.
Their glory freedom, and their blessing rest—
A powerful chief this lofty Seat survey'd,
And here his mansion's strong foundation laid.
In his own ground the massy stone he sought,
From his own woods the rugged timbers brought,
Rudeness and greatness in his work combined—
An humble taste with an aspiring mind.
His herds the vale, his flocks the hills, o'erspread;
Warriors and vassals at his table fed;
Sons, kindred, servants, waited on his will,
And hail'd his mansion on the mighty hill.
In a new age a Saxon Lord appear'd,
And on the lofty base his dwelling rear'd.
Then first the grand but threatening form was known,
And to the subject-vale a Castle shown,
Where strength alone appear'd—the gloomy wall
Enclosed the dark recess, the frowning hall;
In chilling rooms the sudden fagot gleam'd;
On the rude board the common banquet steam'd.
Astonish'd peasants fear'd the dreadful skill
That placed such wonders on their favourite hill;
The soldier praised it as he march'd around,
And the dark building o'er the valley frown'd.
And on the lofty base his dwelling rear'd.
Then first the grand but threatening form was known,
And to the subject-vale a Castle shown,
Where strength alone appear'd—the gloomy wall
Enclosed the dark recess, the frowning hall;
In chilling rooms the sudden fagot gleam'd;
On the rude board the common banquet steam'd.
Astonish'd peasants fear'd the dreadful skill
That placed such wonders on their favourite hill;
The soldier praised it as he march'd around,
And the dark building o'er the valley frown'd.
A Norman Baron, in succeeding times,
Here, while the minstrel sang heroic rhymes,
In feudal pomp appear'd. It was his praise
A loftier dome with happier skill to raise;
His halls, still gloomy, yet with grandeur rose;
Here friends were feasted—here confined were foes.
In distant chambers, with her female train,
Dwelt the fair partner of his awful reign.
Curb'd by no laws, his vassal-tribe he sway'd—
The Lord commanded, and the slave obey'd.
No soft'ning arts in those fierce times were found,
But rival Barons spread their terrors round;
Each, in the fortress of his power, secure,
Of foes was fearless, and of soldiers sure;
And here the chieftain, for his prowess praised,
Long held the Castle that his might had raised.
Here, while the minstrel sang heroic rhymes,
In feudal pomp appear'd. It was his praise
A loftier dome with happier skill to raise;
His halls, still gloomy, yet with grandeur rose;
Here friends were feasted—here confined were foes.
In distant chambers, with her female train,
401
Curb'd by no laws, his vassal-tribe he sway'd—
The Lord commanded, and the slave obey'd.
No soft'ning arts in those fierce times were found,
But rival Barons spread their terrors round;
Each, in the fortress of his power, secure,
Of foes was fearless, and of soldiers sure;
And here the chieftain, for his prowess praised,
Long held the Castle that his might had raised.
Came gentler times—the Barons ceased to strive
With kingly power, yet felt their pomp survive;
Impell'd by softening arts, by honour charm'd,
Fair ladies studied and brave heroes arm'd.
The Lord of Belvoir then his Castle view'd,
Strong without form, and dignified but rude;
The dark long passage, and the chambers small,
Recess and secret hold, he banish'd all;
Took the rude gloom and terror from the place,
And bade it shine with majesty and grace.
With kingly power, yet felt their pomp survive;
Impell'd by softening arts, by honour charm'd,
Fair ladies studied and brave heroes arm'd.
The Lord of Belvoir then his Castle view'd,
Strong without form, and dignified but rude;
The dark long passage, and the chambers small,
Recess and secret hold, he banish'd all;
Took the rude gloom and terror from the place,
And bade it shine with majesty and grace.
Then arras first o'er rugged walls appear'd;
Bright lamps at eve the vast apartment cheer'd;
In each superior room were polish'd floors,
Tall ponderous beds, and vast cathedral doors.
All was improved within, and then below
Fruits of the hardier climes were taught to grow;
The silver flagon on the table stood,
And to the vassal left the horn and wood.
Dress'd in his liveries, of his honours vain,
Came at the Baron's call a menial train—
Proud of their arms, his strength and their delight;
Loud in the feast, and fearless in the fight.
Bright lamps at eve the vast apartment cheer'd;
In each superior room were polish'd floors,
Tall ponderous beds, and vast cathedral doors.
All was improved within, and then below
Fruits of the hardier climes were taught to grow;
The silver flagon on the table stood,
And to the vassal left the horn and wood.
Dress'd in his liveries, of his honours vain,
Came at the Baron's call a menial train—
Proud of their arms, his strength and their delight;
Loud in the feast, and fearless in the fight.
Then every eye the stately fabric drew
To every part; for all were fair to view.
The powerful chief the far-famed work descried,
And heard the public voice that waked his pride.
Pleased he began—“About, above, below,
“What more can wealth command, or science show?
“Here taste and grandeur join with massy strength;
“Slow comes perfection, but it comes at length.
“Still must I grieve: these halls and towers sublime,
“Like vulgar domes, must feel the force of time;
“And, when decay'd, can future days repair
“What I in these have made so strong and fair?
“My future heirs shall want of power deplore,
“When Time destroys what Time cannot restore.”
To every part; for all were fair to view.
The powerful chief the far-famed work descried,
And heard the public voice that waked his pride.
Pleased he began—“About, above, below,
“What more can wealth command, or science show?
“Here taste and grandeur join with massy strength;
“Slow comes perfection, but it comes at length.
“Still must I grieve: these halls and towers sublime,
402
“And, when decay'd, can future days repair
“What I in these have made so strong and fair?
“My future heirs shall want of power deplore,
“When Time destroys what Time cannot restore.”
Sad in his glory, serious in his pride,
At once the chief exulted and he sigh'd;
Dreaming he sigh'd, and still, in sleep profound,
His thoughts were fix'd within the favourite bound:
When lo! another Castle rose in view,
That in an instant all his pride o'erthrew.
In that he saw what massy strength bestows,
And what from grace and lighter beauty flows—
Yet all harmonious; what was light and free,
Robb'd not the weightier parts of dignity;
Nor what was ponderous hid the work of grace,
But all were just, and all in proper place.
Terrace on terrace rose, and there was seen
Adorn'd with flowery knolls the sloping green,
Bounded by balmy shrubs from climes unknown,
And all the nobler trees that grace our own.
At once the chief exulted and he sigh'd;
Dreaming he sigh'd, and still, in sleep profound,
His thoughts were fix'd within the favourite bound:
When lo! another Castle rose in view,
That in an instant all his pride o'erthrew.
In that he saw what massy strength bestows,
And what from grace and lighter beauty flows—
Yet all harmonious; what was light and free,
Robb'd not the weightier parts of dignity;
Nor what was ponderous hid the work of grace,
But all were just, and all in proper place.
Terrace on terrace rose, and there was seen
Adorn'd with flowery knolls the sloping green,
Bounded by balmy shrubs from climes unknown,
And all the nobler trees that grace our own.
Above, he saw a giant-tower ascend,
That seem'd the neighbouring beauty to defend
Of some light graceful dome—“And this,” he cried,
“Awakes my pleasure, though it wounds my pride.”
He saw apartments where appear'd to rise
What seem'd as men, and fix'd on him their eyes—
Pictures that spoke; and there were mirrors tall,
Doubling each wonder by reflecting all.
He saw the genial board, the massy plate,
Grace unaffected, unencumber'd state;
And something reach'd him of the social arts,
That soften manners, and that conquer hearts.
That seem'd the neighbouring beauty to defend
Of some light graceful dome—“And this,” he cried,
“Awakes my pleasure, though it wounds my pride.”
He saw apartments where appear'd to rise
What seem'd as men, and fix'd on him their eyes—
Pictures that spoke; and there were mirrors tall,
Doubling each wonder by reflecting all.
He saw the genial board, the massy plate,
Grace unaffected, unencumber'd state;
And something reach'd him of the social arts,
That soften manners, and that conquer hearts.
Wrapt in amazement, as he gazed he saw
A form of heav'nly kind, and bow'd in awe:
The spirit view'd him with benignant grace,
And styled himself the Genius of the Place.
“Gaze, and be glad!” he cried, “for this, indeed,
“Is the fair Seat that shall to thine succeed,
“When these famed kingdoms shall as sisters be,
“And one great sovereign rule the powerful three.
“Then yon rich Vale, far stretching to the west,
“Beyond thy bound, shall be by one possess'd;
“Then shall true grace and dignity accord—
“With splendour, ease—the Castle with its Lord.”
A form of heav'nly kind, and bow'd in awe:
The spirit view'd him with benignant grace,
And styled himself the Genius of the Place.
“Gaze, and be glad!” he cried, “for this, indeed,
“Is the fair Seat that shall to thine succeed,
“When these famed kingdoms shall as sisters be,
403
“Then yon rich Vale, far stretching to the west,
“Beyond thy bound, shall be by one possess'd;
“Then shall true grace and dignity accord—
“With splendour, ease—the Castle with its Lord.”
The Baron waked—“It was,” he cried, “a view
“Lively as truth, and I will think it true.
“Some gentle spirit to my mind has brought
“Forms of fair works to be hereafter wrought;
“But yet of mine a part will then remain,
“Nor will that Lord its humbler worth disdain;
“Mix'd with his mightier pile shall mine be found,
“By him protected, and with his renown'd;
“He who its full destruction could command,
“A part shall save from the destroying hand,
“And say, ‘It long has stood—still honour'd let it stand!’”
“Lively as truth, and I will think it true.
“Some gentle spirit to my mind has brought
“Forms of fair works to be hereafter wrought;
“But yet of mine a part will then remain,
“Nor will that Lord its humbler worth disdain;
“Mix'd with his mightier pile shall mine be found,
“By him protected, and with his renown'd;
“He who its full destruction could command,
“A part shall save from the destroying hand,
“And say, ‘It long has stood—still honour'd let it stand!’”
414
[HIS MOTHER'S WEDDING-RING.]
[About 1813–4.]
The ring so worn, as you behold,
So thin, so pale, is yet of gold.
The passion such it was to prove:
Worn with life's cares, love yet was love.
[PARHAM REVISITED.]
[1814.]
Yes, I behold again the place,
The seat of joy, the source of pain;
It brings in view the form and face
That I must never see again.
The seat of joy, the source of pain;
It brings in view the form and face
That I must never see again.
The night-bird's song that sweetly floats
On this soft gloom—this balmy air,
Brings to the mind her sweeter notes
That I again must never hear.
On this soft gloom—this balmy air,
Brings to the mind her sweeter notes
That I again must never hear.
Lo! yonder shines that window's light,
My guide, my token, heretofore;
And now again it shines as bright,
When those dear eyes can shine no more.
My guide, my token, heretofore;
And now again it shines as bright,
When those dear eyes can shine no more.
Then hurry from this place away!
It gives not now the bliss it gave;
For Death has made its charm his prey,
And joy is buried in her grave.
It gives not now the bliss it gave;
For Death has made its charm his prey,
And joy is buried in her grave.
428
LINES WRITTEN AT WARWICK.
“You that in warlike stories take delight,” &c.
Hail, centre-county of our land, and known
For matchless worth and valour all thine own—
Warwick! renown'd for him who best could write,
Shakspeare the Bard, and him so fierce in fight,
Guy, thy brave Earl, who made whole armies fly,
And giants fall—who has not heard of Guy?
For matchless worth and valour all thine own—
Warwick! renown'd for him who best could write,
Shakspeare the Bard, and him so fierce in fight,
Guy, thy brave Earl, who made whole armies fly,
And giants fall—who has not heard of Guy?
Him sent his Lady, matchless in her charms,
To gain immortal glory by his arms—
Felice the fair, who, as her bard maintain'd,
The prize of beauty over Venus gain'd;
For she, the goddess, had some trivial blot
That marr'd some beauty, which our nymph had not:
But, this apart—for in a fav'rite theme
Poets and lovers are allow'd to dream—
Still we believe the lady and her knight
Were matchless both: he in the glorious fight,
She in the bower by day, and festive hall by night.
To gain immortal glory by his arms—
Felice the fair, who, as her bard maintain'd,
The prize of beauty over Venus gain'd;
For she, the goddess, had some trivial blot
That marr'd some beauty, which our nymph had not:
But, this apart—for in a fav'rite theme
Poets and lovers are allow'd to dream—
Still we believe the lady and her knight
Were matchless both: he in the glorious fight,
She in the bower by day, and festive hall by night.
Urged by his love, th' adventurous Guy proceeds,
And Europe wonders at his warlike deeds.
Whatever prince his potent arm sustains,
However weak, the certain conquest gains;
On every side the routed legions fly,
Numbers are nothing in the sight of Guy.
To him the injured made their sufferings known,
And he relieved all sorrows but his own;
Ladies who owed their freedom to his might
Were grieved to find his heart another's right.
And Europe wonders at his warlike deeds.
Whatever prince his potent arm sustains,
However weak, the certain conquest gains;
On every side the routed legions fly,
Numbers are nothing in the sight of Guy.
To him the injured made their sufferings known,
And he relieved all sorrows but his own;
Ladies who owed their freedom to his might
Were grieved to find his heart another's right.
The brood of giants, famous in those times,
Fell by his arm, and perish'd for their crimes.
Colbrand the strong, who by the Dane was brought,
When he the crown of good Athelstan sought,
Fell by the prowess of our champion brave,
And his huge body found an English grave.
Fell by his arm, and perish'd for their crimes.
Colbrand the strong, who by the Dane was brought,
When he the crown of good Athelstan sought,
429
And his huge body found an English grave.
But what to Guy were men, or great or small,
Or one or many?—he despatch'd them all;
A huge dun Cow, the dread of all around,
A master-spirit in our hero found:
'Twas desolation all about her den—
Her sport was murder, and her meals were men.
At Dunmore Heath the monster he assail'd,
And o'er the fiercest of his foes prevail'd.
Or one or many?—he despatch'd them all;
A huge dun Cow, the dread of all around,
A master-spirit in our hero found:
'Twas desolation all about her den—
Her sport was murder, and her meals were men.
At Dunmore Heath the monster he assail'd,
And o'er the fiercest of his foes prevail'd.
Nor fear'd he lions more than lions fear
Poor trembling shepherds, or the sheep they shear.
A fiery dragon, whether green or red
The story tells not, by his valour bled;
What more I know not, but by these 'tis plain
That Guy of Warwick never fought in vain.
Poor trembling shepherds, or the sheep they shear.
A fiery dragon, whether green or red
The story tells not, by his valour bled;
What more I know not, but by these 'tis plain
That Guy of Warwick never fought in vain.
When much of life in martial deeds was spent,
His sovereign lady found her heart relent,
And gave her hand. Then all was joy around,
And valiant Guy with love and glory crown'd;
Then Warwick Castle wide its gate display'd,
And peace and pleasure this their dwelling made.
His sovereign lady found her heart relent,
And gave her hand. Then all was joy around,
And valiant Guy with love and glory crown'd;
Then Warwick Castle wide its gate display'd,
And peace and pleasure this their dwelling made.
Alas! not long—a hero knows not rest;
A new sensation fill'd his anxious breast.
His fancy brought before his eyes a train
Of pensive shades, the ghosts of mortals slain;
His dreams presented what his sword had done;
He saw the blood from wounded soldiers run,
And dying men, with every ghastly wound,
Breathed forth their souls upon the sanguine ground.
A new sensation fill'd his anxious breast.
His fancy brought before his eyes a train
Of pensive shades, the ghosts of mortals slain;
His dreams presented what his sword had done;
He saw the blood from wounded soldiers run,
And dying men, with every ghastly wound,
Breathed forth their souls upon the sanguine ground.
Alarm'd at this, he dared no longer stay,
But left his bride, and as a pilgrim gray,
With staff and beads, went forth to weep and fast and pray.
In vain his Felice sigh'd—nay, smiled in vain;
With all he loved he [dared] not long remain,
But roved he knew not where, nor said, “I come again.”
But left his bride, and as a pilgrim gray,
With staff and beads, went forth to weep and fast and pray.
In vain his Felice sigh'd—nay, smiled in vain;
With all he loved he [dared] not long remain,
But roved he knew not where, nor said, “I come again.”
The widow'd countess pass'd her years in grief,
But sought in alms and holy deeds relief;
And many a pilgrim ask'd, with many a sigh,
To give her tidings of the wandering Guy.
But sought in alms and holy deeds relief;
And many a pilgrim ask'd, with many a sigh,
To give her tidings of the wandering Guy.
430
Perverse and cruel! could it conscience ease,
A wife so lovely and so fond to tease?
Or could he not with her a saint become,
And, like a quiet man, repent at home?
A wife so lovely and so fond to tease?
Or could he not with her a saint become,
And, like a quiet man, repent at home?
How different those who now this seat possess!
No idle dreams disturb their happiness.
The Lord who now presides o'er Warwick's towers
To nobler purpose dedicates his powers;
No deeds of horror fill his soul with fear,
Nor conscience drives him from a home so dear.
The lovely Felice of the present day
Dreads not her lord should from her presence stray;
He feels the charm that binds him to a seat
Where love and honour, joy and duty, meet.
No idle dreams disturb their happiness.
The Lord who now presides o'er Warwick's towers
To nobler purpose dedicates his powers;
No deeds of horror fill his soul with fear,
Nor conscience drives him from a home so dear.
The lovely Felice of the present day
Dreads not her lord should from her presence stray;
He feels the charm that binds him to a seat
Where love and honour, joy and duty, meet.
But forty days could Guy his fair afford;
Not forty years would weary Warwick's lord.
He better knows, how charms like hers control
All vagrant thoughts, and fill with her the soul;
He better knows, that not on mortal strife,
Or deeds of blood, depend the bliss of life—
But on the ties that first the heart enchain,
And every grace that bids the charm remain.
Time will, we know, to beauty work despite,
And youthful bloom will take with him its flight;
But Love shall still subsist, and, undecay'd,
Feel not one change of all that Time has made.
Not forty years would weary Warwick's lord.
He better knows, how charms like hers control
All vagrant thoughts, and fill with her the soul;
He better knows, that not on mortal strife,
Or deeds of blood, depend the bliss of life—
But on the ties that first the heart enchain,
And every grace that bids the charm remain.
Time will, we know, to beauty work despite,
And youthful bloom will take with him its flight;
But Love shall still subsist, and, undecay'd,
Feel not one change of all that Time has made.
437
THE FRIEND IN LOVE.
[About 1816.]
Unhappy is the wretch who feels
The trembling lover's ardent flame,
And yet the treacherous hope conceals
By using Friendship's colder name.
The trembling lover's ardent flame,
And yet the treacherous hope conceals
By using Friendship's colder name.
He must the lover's pangs endure,
And still the outward sign suppress;
Nor may expect the smiles that cure
The wounded heart's conceal'd distress.
And still the outward sign suppress;
Nor may expect the smiles that cure
The wounded heart's conceal'd distress.
When her soft looks on others bend,
By him discern'd, to him denied,
He must be then the silent friend,
And all his jealous torments hide.
By him discern'd, to him denied,
He must be then the silent friend,
And all his jealous torments hide.
When she shall one blest youth select,
His bleeding heart must still approve;
Must every angry thought correct,
And strive to like, where she can love.
His bleeding heart must still approve;
Must every angry thought correct,
And strive to like, where she can love.
Yet must he all his Pains conceal
From her whom his fond Thoughts adore,
In Fear of these which he must feel,
If she that soothed them smiled no more.
From her whom his fond Thoughts adore,
In Fear of these which he must feel,
If she that soothed them smiled no more.
Heaven from my heart such pangs remove,
And let these feverish sufferings cease—
These pains without the hope of love,
These cares of friendship, not its peace!
And let these feverish sufferings cease—
These pains without the hope of love,
These cares of friendship, not its peace!
438
[DISILLUSIONED.]
And wilt thou never smile again,
Thy cruel purpose never shaken?
Hast thou no feeling for my pain,
Refused, disdain'd, despised, forsaken?
Thy cruel purpose never shaken?
Hast thou no feeling for my pain,
Refused, disdain'd, despised, forsaken?
Thy uncle crafty, careful, cold,
His wealth upon my mind imprinted;
His fields described, and praised his fold,
And jested, boasted, promised, hinted.
His wealth upon my mind imprinted;
His fields described, and praised his fold,
And jested, boasted, promised, hinted.
Thy aunt—I scorn'd the omen—spoke
Of lovers by thy scorn rejected;
But I the warning never took,
When chosen, cheer'd, received, rejected.
Of lovers by thy scorn rejected;
But I the warning never took,
When chosen, cheer'd, received, rejected.
Thy brother, too—but all was plann'd
To murder peace, all freely granted;
And then I lived in fairy land,
Transported, bless'd, enrapt, enchanted.
To murder peace, all freely granted;
And then I lived in fairy land,
Transported, bless'd, enrapt, enchanted.
Oh, what a dream of happy love,
From which the wise in time awaken;
While I must all its anguish prove,
Deceived, despised, abused, forsaken!
From which the wise in time awaken;
While I must all its anguish prove,
Deceived, despised, abused, forsaken!
[LINES] FROM A DISCARDED POEM,
ENCLOSED, AT MRS LEADBEATER'S REQUEST, FOR THOMAS WILKINSON'S COLLECTION OF HANDWRITINGS.
One calm, cold evening, when the moon was high,And rode sublime within the cloudy sky,
She sat within her hut, nor seem'd to feel
Or cold, or want, but turn'd her idle wheel;
And with sad song its melancholy tone
Mix'd—all unconscious that she dwelt alone.
439
ON THE DEATH OF SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY.
(Hampstead, November 6, 1818.)
“Thus had I written—so a friend advised,
“Whom as the first of counsellors I prized;
“The best of guides to my assuming pen,
“The best of fathers, husbands, judges, men.
“‘This will he read,’ I said, ‘and I shall hear
“‘Opinion wise, instructive, mild, sincere;
“‘For I that mind respect, for I the man revere.’
“Whom as the first of counsellors I prized;
“The best of guides to my assuming pen,
“The best of fathers, husbands, judges, men.
“‘This will he read,’ I said, ‘and I shall hear
“‘Opinion wise, instructive, mild, sincere;
“‘For I that mind respect, for I the man revere.’
“I had no boding fear, but thought to see
“Those who were thine, who look'd for all to thee;
“And thou wert all! there was, when thou wert by,
“Diffused around the rare felicity
“That wisdom, worth, and kindness can impart,
“To form the mind and gratify the heart.
“Those who were thine, who look'd for all to thee;
“And thou wert all! there was, when thou wert by,
“Diffused around the rare felicity
“That wisdom, worth, and kindness can impart,
“To form the mind and gratify the heart.
“Yes! I was proud to speak of thee as one
“Who had approved the little I had done,
“And taught me what I should do!—Thou wouldst raise
“My doubting spirit by a smile of praise
“And words of comfort! great was thy delight
“Fear to expel, and ardour to excite,
“To wrest th' oppressor's arm, and do the injured right.
“Who had approved the little I had done,
“And taught me what I should do!—Thou wouldst raise
“My doubting spirit by a smile of praise
“And words of comfort! great was thy delight
“Fear to expel, and ardour to excite,
“To wrest th' oppressor's arm, and do the injured right.
“Thou hadst the tear for pity, and thy breast
“Felt for the sad, the weary, the oppress'd!
“And now, afflicting change! all join with me,
“And feel, lamented Romilly, for thee.”
“Felt for the sad, the weary, the oppress'd!
“And now, afflicting change! all join with me,
“And feel, lamented Romilly, for thee.”
440
LINES.
(Edinburgh, August 15, 1822.)
Of old, when a Monarch of England appear'd
In Scotland, he came as a foe;
There was war in the land, and around it were heard
Lamentation, and mourning and woe.
In Scotland, he came as a foe;
There was war in the land, and around it were heard
Lamentation, and mourning and woe.
In the bordering land, which the Muses love best,
Was one whom they favour'd of old;
With a view of the future his mind they impress'd,
And gave him the power to unfold.
Was one whom they favour'd of old;
With a view of the future his mind they impress'd,
And gave him the power to unfold.
“Come, strike me the harp, and my spirit sustain,
“That these visions of glory annoy;
“While I to the Chieftains of Scotland explain
“What their Sons shall hereafter enjoy!
“That these visions of glory annoy;
“While I to the Chieftains of Scotland explain
“What their Sons shall hereafter enjoy!
“I see, but from far—I behold, but not near—
“When war on the Border shall cease,
“New cities will rise, and the triumphs appear
“Of Riches, and Science, and Peace.
“When war on the Border shall cease,
“New cities will rise, and the triumphs appear
“Of Riches, and Science, and Peace.
“O give me to breathe, while this scene I describe:
“A Monarch in Scotland I see,
“When she pours from her Highlands and Lowlands each tribe,
“Who are loyal, and happy, and free.
“A Monarch in Scotland I see,
“When she pours from her Highlands and Lowlands each tribe,
“Who are loyal, and happy, and free.
“The Islands at rest in their Sovereign rejoice;
“Lo, the power and the wealth they display!
“And there comes from the lands and the waters a voice,
“From the Shannon, the Thames, and the Tay.
“Lo, the power and the wealth they display!
“And there comes from the lands and the waters a voice,
“From the Shannon, the Thames, and the Tay.
“‘All hail to our King!’ is the shout of the crowd;
“I see them, a shadowy throng;
“They are loyally free, are respectfully proud,
“And Joy to their King is their song.
“I see them, a shadowy throng;
“They are loyally free, are respectfully proud,
“And Joy to their King is their song.
“Yet bear up, my soul, 'tis a theme of delight,
“That thousands hereafter shall sing;
“How Scotland, and England, and Ireland unite
“In their Glory, their Might, and their King.
“That thousands hereafter shall sing;
“How Scotland, and England, and Ireland unite
“In their Glory, their Might, and their King.
441
“Aloud strike the harp, for my bosom is cold
“And the sound has a charm on my fears—
“A City new-clothed as a Bride I behold,
“And her King as her Bridegroom appears.
“And the sound has a charm on my fears—
“A City new-clothed as a Bride I behold,
“And her King as her Bridegroom appears.
“'Tis he whom they love, and who loves them again,
“Who partakes of the joy he imparts;
“Who over three nations shall happily reign,
“And establish his throne in their hearts.”
“Who partakes of the joy he imparts;
“Who over three nations shall happily reign,
“And establish his throne in their hearts.”
[LINES.]
(Aldborough, October, 1823.)
Thus once again, my native place, I come
Thee to salute—my earliest, latest home.
Much are we alter'd both, but I behold
In thee a youth renew'd—whilst I am old.
The works of man from dying we may save;
But man himself moves onward to the grave.
LINES, ADDRESSED TO THE DOWAGER DUCHESS OF RUTLAND.
When she—I will not tell her name—
Was in her early beauty laid,
Reposing—Time in person came,
And looked delighted at the maid.
Was in her early beauty laid,
Reposing—Time in person came,
And looked delighted at the maid.
Such charms, unmov'd, he could not pass,
They were to him unusual things,
He gazed till he had dropp'd his glass,
And, sighing, closed his mighty wings.
They were to him unusual things,
He gazed till he had dropp'd his glass,
And, sighing, closed his mighty wings.
“Awake!” in tender tone he cried,
“Nor be of my stern look afraid;
“For never yet has Time espied
“Three graces in one form display'd.”
“Nor be of my stern look afraid;
“For never yet has Time espied
“Three graces in one form display'd.”
442
The nymph awoke; and, when she saw
Old Time was falling fast in love,
She thought she might advantage draw
From one who friend or foe must prove.—
Old Time was falling fast in love,
She thought she might advantage draw
From one who friend or foe must prove.—
“And dost thou love me, Time,” she cried,
“With passion ardent, temper true?”
“Let me,” he cried, “by test be tried,
“And tell to Time what he shall do!”
“With passion ardent, temper true?”
“Let me,” he cried, “by test be tried,
“And tell to Time what he shall do!”
“Old Time,” said she, “thy hand is hard,
“And thou on beauty lov'st to prey:
“Do, prithee, Time show some regard,
“And touch me gently in thy way!”
“And thou on beauty lov'st to prey:
“Do, prithee, Time show some regard,
“And touch me gently in thy way!”
“Then smile upon me, lady, so—
“That look again, oh! where are such!
“I must not pass thee as I go,
“But I will softly, gently touch.
“That look again, oh! where are such!
“I must not pass thee as I go,
“But I will softly, gently touch.
“So gently by thee will I steal
“That none the steps of Time shall see;
“This withering scythe thou shalt not feel,
“Nor injured by its stroke shalt be.—
“That none the steps of Time shall see;
“This withering scythe thou shalt not feel,
“Nor injured by its stroke shalt be.—
“But still I must my prowess prove,
“Be not displeased—indeed I must;
“Or men will say that Time, in love,
“Is blinded, partial, and unjust.—
“Be not displeased—indeed I must;
“Or men will say that Time, in love,
“Is blinded, partial, and unjust.—
“Yet fear not thou: that form, that face
“Shall still from me forbearance find;
“But all the love of Time shall trace,
“And see his progress in thy mind.”
“Shall still from me forbearance find;
“But all the love of Time shall trace,
“And see his progress in thy mind.”
443
FRAGMENTS OF TALES AND MISCELLANEOUS VERSES NOT PREVIOUSLY PRINTED,
ARRANGED (SO FAR AS POSSIBLE) IN CHRONOLOGICAL SEQUENCE
444
TRACY.
(1 Jan. 1813.)
The House of Tracy was of all belov'd:
A generous, gentle, valiant, virtuous Race,
Admir'd for Courage and for Arts approv'd,
They shun'd Dishonour and they spurn'd Disgrace.
The Village Mansion was a noble Place,
Whose strong Foundations down a Vale were laid;
Pride of its Lords and of the Country Grace,
Its Towers were o'er the western hill display'd,
And on an Eastern Stream broad cast their Evening Shade.
Twice twenty Steps of Stone, now mossy all,
Led wandering Strangers to the central Door
Of a vast Room, by name the marble Hall,
Whose squares discolour'd form'd the polish'd floor.
Broad were the Stairs and black that rose before
And led to Chambers fair and Galleries wide;
Here Tracys stood, Men fam'd in days of yore;
These Pictures rare, by Taste and Wealth, supply'd
The Pride of Tracy these, and worthy praise the pride.
Th' Improver's Hand was seen in all the place;
But Mercy still was a Companion found,
And spar'd the Statues fair, the Wood to grace,
And Waters clear that fell with murmuring sound
From the green Terrace on the higher Ground,
With Flowers in Knolls on many a sunny Bank,
Where the white flocks o'er velvet Pasture bound;
Where Gold-fish long possess'd their marble Tank,
And steeds with silky Sides the living Water drank.
It was a lovely and a rich domain,
Vex'd by no Debt, no Mortgage, no Decrease;
No Tenant came with unredress'd Complaint
Of Churlish Steward or of rigorous Lease;
In the fair Village dwelt perpetual Peace,
Far as a Patron could his power extend,
Hail'd at his birth and mourn'd at his discease;
Where all, where each, was pleas'd his help to lend
To each, where all might seeking find a friend.
Two furlongs distant from that seat, its Pride,
Was the fair Village plac'd upon a Green,
By wood surrounded save the Eastern Side,
Where the broad, silent, silvery flood was seen.
445
On either side a small and central Lake,
That long the scene of rustic Sports had been.
Unenvied People! may ye still partake
Life's honest Joys and pure, and late may ye forsake!
The whiten'd Church and Vicar's low Abode
Are near each other and these Dwellings near;
But, far from Town and from the public Road,
Few Travellers stray, few Strangers travel here;
Where yet an Inn, “The Tracy's Arms,” appear,
The Mill, the Shop, and Trades that Peasants need,
But Farmers all; the Soil to all so dear
Gives to the Peasant's Cow a space to feed;
Such was the Tracys' will, and Heav'n approves the Deed.
A numerous Race were these, and Sons were lent
To England's Honour and were great in Arms;
But now the generous Blood seems nearly spent.
One Son one only Son had raised Alarms
For Generations three! nor female Charms
As heretofore had done their Parents Grace;
These Lords had dwelt amid their flocks and farms,
A mild benevolent and virtuous Race,
Whose Lives accorded well with this their favourite Place.
Sir Edward Tracy was a valiant Man,
Who served in Flanders under Good Queen Anne;
Was wounded there, and in his pleasant seat
Found a fair Dame that made Retirement sweet.
There he enjoy'd a life of social Ease,
And died before its vital Spirits freeze.
He left a pensive, mild, domestic heir,
Pleas'd to improve his Mansion and repair;
The small Improvements in his farms to make,
And rustic bliss to foster and partake.
He was a man who never in his Life,
For Joy or Business, left his charming wife;
To all her failings, if she had them, blind,
He saw her faultless, and he felt her kind.
With undirected, unaspiring Views,
He scorn'd Oppression, but he took his Dues;
For rural Works he shew'd some trifling Skill,
And little prone to either Good or ill.
His Heart was kind, but cool; his Passions right, but still.
He, with a feeble spark of Glory warm'd,
Wish'd his sole Boy to be with Study charm'd;
Wish'd him that Honour he had fail'd to gain,
And hail'd the Labour that was not in vain.
He liv'd, the Honour of his spotless Line,
Fram'd in the Senate and the Bar to shine;
But, unambitious at an early Age,
He buried all the Patriot in the Sage;
And with his Lady, by her worth endear'd,
Read what was spoken when he, once, was heard.
She, form'd in Courts to shine, was pleas'd to shun
A thousand Lovers, to be blest with one;
And bade adieu without a single Sigh
To Passion's Language and to Flattery's Eye.
He, like his Fathers, left an only Boy,
Ere dawning Reason spurn'd the childish Toy;
Pleas'd to reflect [the] Mother's years were few,
Her Temper perfect, and her Judgment true;
That she would train him, good herself and wise,
All that was base and wicked to despise;
The Strength of Rebell Passions to defeat,
Life's Cares and Sorrows with firm Soul to meet,
And from the Flatterer's Voice indignant to retreat.
Who served in Flanders under Good Queen Anne;
Was wounded there, and in his pleasant seat
Found a fair Dame that made Retirement sweet.
There he enjoy'd a life of social Ease,
And died before its vital Spirits freeze.
He left a pensive, mild, domestic heir,
Pleas'd to improve his Mansion and repair;
The small Improvements in his farms to make,
And rustic bliss to foster and partake.
He was a man who never in his Life,
For Joy or Business, left his charming wife;
To all her failings, if she had them, blind,
He saw her faultless, and he felt her kind.
With undirected, unaspiring Views,
He scorn'd Oppression, but he took his Dues;
For rural Works he shew'd some trifling Skill,
And little prone to either Good or ill.
His Heart was kind, but cool; his Passions right, but still.
He, with a feeble spark of Glory warm'd,
Wish'd his sole Boy to be with Study charm'd;
Wish'd him that Honour he had fail'd to gain,
And hail'd the Labour that was not in vain.
He liv'd, the Honour of his spotless Line,
Fram'd in the Senate and the Bar to shine;
But, unambitious at an early Age,
He buried all the Patriot in the Sage;
446
Read what was spoken when he, once, was heard.
She, form'd in Courts to shine, was pleas'd to shun
A thousand Lovers, to be blest with one;
And bade adieu without a single Sigh
To Passion's Language and to Flattery's Eye.
He, like his Fathers, left an only Boy,
Ere dawning Reason spurn'd the childish Toy;
Pleas'd to reflect [the] Mother's years were few,
Her Temper perfect, and her Judgment true;
That she would train him, good herself and wise,
All that was base and wicked to despise;
The Strength of Rebell Passions to defeat,
Life's Cares and Sorrows with firm Soul to meet,
And from the Flatterer's Voice indignant to retreat.
She train'd him thus, and early was he known
To seek her pleasure and disguise his own;
Yet, if her fondness could a failing spy,
His youthful Spirits were too strong and high.
She found, or fear'd, intemperate Love of Joy
And would correct what else might Time destroy.
Yet hard the Task, to Mothers doubly hard,
O'er the light Heart to keep incessant Guard;
Still shé against his buoyant Spirit strove,
Who smil'd at Duty, but bow'd down to Love.
To seek her pleasure and disguise his own;
Yet, if her fondness could a failing spy,
His youthful Spirits were too strong and high.
She found, or fear'd, intemperate Love of Joy
And would correct what else might Time destroy.
Yet hard the Task, to Mothers doubly hard,
O'er the light Heart to keep incessant Guard;
Still shé against his buoyant Spirit strove,
Who smil'd at Duty, but bow'd down to Love.
This is our Hero, a fond Widow's Son,
Rich, of high spirits, and just twenty-one;
Yet [most] for Learning fam'd, and, tho' untried,
His native Courage not a Soul denied.
For, tho' the Tracys were so well belov'd,
Their real Courage was but seldom prov'd;
Yet never Tracy was by Honour call'd
Who fled the Summons or who look'd appall'd.
The timid parent, when the Son would cry
“To breathe is Joy, to live is Extacy;
“To feel this pleasure ever strong and new,
“And wish that every being felt it too”—
“Beware, my Tracy! let these Spirits sleep
“And for the days of certain sorrow keep!
“Kind [are] thy wishes, but are all in vain:
“There will be Griefs, Sighs, Sufferings and pain!
“Waste not the strength that [a] Kind Heaven affords
“In a vain flourish of Exulting Words;
“But train thyself for the uncertain task—
“I ask it fondly and 'tis all I ask!”—
Rich, of high spirits, and just twenty-one;
Yet [most] for Learning fam'd, and, tho' untried,
His native Courage not a Soul denied.
For, tho' the Tracys were so well belov'd,
Their real Courage was but seldom prov'd;
Yet never Tracy was by Honour call'd
Who fled the Summons or who look'd appall'd.
The timid parent, when the Son would cry
“To breathe is Joy, to live is Extacy;
“To feel this pleasure ever strong and new,
“And wish that every being felt it too”—
“Beware, my Tracy! let these Spirits sleep
“And for the days of certain sorrow keep!
“Kind [are] thy wishes, but are all in vain:
“There will be Griefs, Sighs, Sufferings and pain!
“Waste not the strength that [a] Kind Heaven affords
“In a vain flourish of Exulting Words;
“But train thyself for the uncertain task—
“I ask it fondly and 'tis all I ask!”—
“Friend of my Soul,” replied the youth, “suppress
“These fearful Precepts and their fond Distress!
“If Time indeed must all my Joys expell,
“Oh, let me feel them when at ease and well!
“I war with Care; it is my wish to go
“Where he resides and treat him as a foe.
“When in the Cot the ugly fiend I trace,
“I ask his business in that favour'd place;
“A Golden Shield I cast before his Eyes
“And never leave him till away he flies.
“Tho' stubborn oft, his utmost Wrath I dare
“And sing exulting, Now begone, old Care!
“This Villain Care had pinch'd a modest Cheek,
“And so opprest her that she fear'd to speak.
“Her Lover's father, of her Charms afraid,
“Forc'd [her] fond Lover from the pining Maid.
“Poor Ellen's Mother shar'd her Daughter's Pain,
“And her best offer met the Earl's disdain.
“Grief held them all, when like an Hero true
“I freed the Captives and the Giant slew;
“Held a fair Prospect in the father's Eye
“And saw resistance in an instant die.
“Oh, take my Horses, and my Hounds dismiss,
“But [give] Thy Tracy such delight as this!
“[OMITTED] War
“With grief and wish him from thy bosom far!
“I for this cause [OMITTED] strive,
“And am content to seem but half alive;
“Yet can I never from myself conceal
“That giving Pleasure is the way to feel.
“These fearful Precepts and their fond Distress!
“If Time indeed must all my Joys expell,
“Oh, let me feel them when at ease and well!
“I war with Care; it is my wish to go
“Where he resides and treat him as a foe.
“When in the Cot the ugly fiend I trace,
“I ask his business in that favour'd place;
447
“And never leave him till away he flies.
“Tho' stubborn oft, his utmost Wrath I dare
“And sing exulting, Now begone, old Care!
“This Villain Care had pinch'd a modest Cheek,
“And so opprest her that she fear'd to speak.
“Her Lover's father, of her Charms afraid,
“Forc'd [her] fond Lover from the pining Maid.
“Poor Ellen's Mother shar'd her Daughter's Pain,
“And her best offer met the Earl's disdain.
“Grief held them all, when like an Hero true
“I freed the Captives and the Giant slew;
“Held a fair Prospect in the father's Eye
“And saw resistance in an instant die.
“Oh, take my Horses, and my Hounds dismiss,
“But [give] Thy Tracy such delight as this!
“[OMITTED] War
“With grief and wish him from thy bosom far!
“I for this cause [OMITTED] strive,
“And am content to seem but half alive;
“Yet can I never from myself conceal
“That giving Pleasure is the way to feel.
“Can I be sad, when I behold her mine,
“A beauteous maiden with a Soul divine?
“Did ever beauty meet the wond'ring Eye,
“Perfect as that which shines in Emely?
“Does not her Father to our Love consent?
“Then what [can] damp our joys, or what prevent?
“And is she not belov'd, esteem'd of thee?
“Oh I am happy,—happy let me be!
“A beauteous maiden with a Soul divine?
“Did ever beauty meet the wond'ring Eye,
“Perfect as that which shines in Emely?
“Does not her Father to our Love consent?
“Then what [can] damp our joys, or what prevent?
“And is she not belov'd, esteem'd of thee?
“Oh I am happy,—happy let me be!
“Want I a kindred mind, my Julian? Shame
“Be to the Man who gave th' Apostate's Name
“To one whose Virtues all who know must Prize,
“And who from Truth will ne'er apostatize!
“Guide of my Life, Companion of my Youth,
“Thy modest Manners and thy love of Truth
“Cheer, aid and sooth me in my earthly race;
“And Want of Joy, would [thus] be Want of Grace.”—
“All, all are thine,” the gentle Lady cried;
“Wealth, Health and Friends has bounteous Heaven supply'd;
“The happiest Spirits and the loveliest Maid
“That ever smil'd; and yet am I afraid.
“For Friends have fallen off, and Love grown cold,
“And failing Health sigh'd over useless Gold;
“While the strong Spirits, once to Error led,
“Have flam'd to Madness or in Anguish fled.
“Nay, look not thus; against myself I plead;
“Bid thee be grave, and yet would not succeed.
“No, let me think my Tracy, when away—
“For thou must go—still innocent and Gay.
“Short is the Time; yet for a Month to part
“Shakes the faint Courage of a Mother's Heart;
“But to her aid thy Emely will come
“And think thee happy while she prays thee home.
“Our distant friends this Sacrifice demand,
“E'er the lov'd Maid bestows her promis'd Hand.
“Court the good Dean! nor be with Ease denied,
“To come and bless thee with thy matchless Bride!
“Invite each friend to view thy happy Choice,
“Nor doubt the favouring Eye, th' approving Voice;
“For not an Ear will hear, and not an Eye
“Will see a Charmer like our Emely!
“But tak'st thou Julian?”
“Be to the Man who gave th' Apostate's Name
“To one whose Virtues all who know must Prize,
“And who from Truth will ne'er apostatize!
“Guide of my Life, Companion of my Youth,
“Thy modest Manners and thy love of Truth
“Cheer, aid and sooth me in my earthly race;
“And Want of Joy, would [thus] be Want of Grace.”—
“All, all are thine,” the gentle Lady cried;
“Wealth, Health and Friends has bounteous Heaven supply'd;
“The happiest Spirits and the loveliest Maid
“That ever smil'd; and yet am I afraid.
“For Friends have fallen off, and Love grown cold,
“And failing Health sigh'd over useless Gold;
“While the strong Spirits, once to Error led,
“Have flam'd to Madness or in Anguish fled.
“Nay, look not thus; against myself I plead;
“Bid thee be grave, and yet would not succeed.
“No, let me think my Tracy, when away—
“For thou must go—still innocent and Gay.
“Short is the Time; yet for a Month to part
“Shakes the faint Courage of a Mother's Heart;
“But to her aid thy Emely will come
448
“Our distant friends this Sacrifice demand,
“E'er the lov'd Maid bestows her promis'd Hand.
“Court the good Dean! nor be with Ease denied,
“To come and bless thee with thy matchless Bride!
“Invite each friend to view thy happy Choice,
“Nor doubt the favouring Eye, th' approving Voice;
“For not an Ear will hear, and not an Eye
“Will see a Charmer like our Emely!
“But tak'st thou Julian?”
“Can I leave behind
“The only Comfort I can hope to find.
“Friends thou wilt see; yet them I may mistake,
“And I am certain of the Friend I take.”
“The only Comfort I can hope to find.
“Friends thou wilt see; yet them I may mistake,
“And I am certain of the Friend I take.”
“Yet this, my Son, and I will cease to plead:
“'Tis not in Youth the secret Soul to read;
“'Tis not in Age! for who can hope to scan
“Man's latent Thoughts, oft hidden from the Man?
“'Tis surely dangerous for the best below
“A Brother's Secrets like his own to know;
“Thy failings, follies, weakness, all to learn
“And half form'd wishes in their birth discern.
“[Loves] not thy friend—ah! let me judge him wrong—
“O'er Wine to sit—nay why that look?—too long?
“Have I not seen the bright'ning Eye, the Cheek
“With pleasure fever'd, paint the Judgment weak;
“And hast not thou, all joyful as thou art,
“Yet pour'd new spirit on the [bounding] Heart;
“And art thou, Tracy—I will add no more—
“Alone, in thought, as happy as before?
“Is all within so pure, so gay, so bright
“In thine own feelings and thy Maker's Sight,
“As I have known thee? is my Tracy sure?” [OMITTED]
“'Tis not in Youth the secret Soul to read;
“'Tis not in Age! for who can hope to scan
“Man's latent Thoughts, oft hidden from the Man?
“'Tis surely dangerous for the best below
“A Brother's Secrets like his own to know;
“Thy failings, follies, weakness, all to learn
“And half form'd wishes in their birth discern.
“[Loves] not thy friend—ah! let me judge him wrong—
“O'er Wine to sit—nay why that look?—too long?
“Have I not seen the bright'ning Eye, the Cheek
“With pleasure fever'd, paint the Judgment weak;
“And hast not thou, all joyful as thou art,
“Yet pour'd new spirit on the [bounding] Heart;
“And art thou, Tracy—I will add no more—
“Alone, in thought, as happy as before?
“Is all within so pure, so gay, so bright
“In thine own feelings and thy Maker's Sight,
“As I have known thee? is my Tracy sure?” [OMITTED]
As Water pour'd on Spirits pure and bright
Will a faint Heat and turbid Look excite,
But, both in Quiet suffer'd to remain,
The Heat will fly, and all be pure again:
So the cool Speech [in] Tracy's ardent Mind
Rais'd sudden Heat, with turbid thought combin'd.
But this not long the filial duty prest
On the warm Heart, and gave the Spirit rest.
Yet the good Lady in the friend beheld
A flaw she fear'd, and had the thought repell'd.
So forth they go, with Spirits light and gay,
Friends to invite and favours to convey
Against the Gladness of a nuptial day;
To see the Elders of their wealthy race,
And all the kindred Tracy to embrace; [OMITTED]
He had been [climbing] all his life, and now
Stopt to behold what Life would still allow;
But all he then could from his Height explore
Prov'd to his Heart he should have stopt before.
Long at his College he was much approv'd;
The more admir'd were not so well belov'd:
Theirs deeper learning—his the mild address;
Theirs loftier Honour—and his sure success.
While yet a Fellow, for an office high
Two, far superior, were resolv'd to try;
And the kind Vincent wish'd with all his heart
He could the office to them both impart.
Not so [his] Brethren: they had all the Zeal
That rival voters for their favourites feel.
For Dr A. his Friends in varying Style
Were pleas'd by turns to flatter and revile:
Famous for all that Newton's self had known,
All that by Signs and Symbols can be shewn;
A man whose fame to distant times would live,
And tenfold pay the little boon they give—
And what his Rival? stealing all his days
Poor Scraps of Learning from dull Grecian Plays;
Restoring Meanings where, when all is done,
One is not found or a contested one;
From elder Critics pilfering half they write,
Who from reflectors steal reflected Light
An helper's help, Assistant's Satellite.
Will a faint Heat and turbid Look excite,
But, both in Quiet suffer'd to remain,
The Heat will fly, and all be pure again:
So the cool Speech [in] Tracy's ardent Mind
Rais'd sudden Heat, with turbid thought combin'd.
But this not long the filial duty prest
On the warm Heart, and gave the Spirit rest.
Yet the good Lady in the friend beheld
A flaw she fear'd, and had the thought repell'd.
So forth they go, with Spirits light and gay,
Friends to invite and favours to convey
Against the Gladness of a nuptial day;
To see the Elders of their wealthy race,
And all the kindred Tracy to embrace; [OMITTED]
He had been [climbing] all his life, and now
Stopt to behold what Life would still allow;
449
Prov'd to his Heart he should have stopt before.
Long at his College he was much approv'd;
The more admir'd were not so well belov'd:
Theirs deeper learning—his the mild address;
Theirs loftier Honour—and his sure success.
While yet a Fellow, for an office high
Two, far superior, were resolv'd to try;
And the kind Vincent wish'd with all his heart
He could the office to them both impart.
Not so [his] Brethren: they had all the Zeal
That rival voters for their favourites feel.
For Dr A. his Friends in varying Style
Were pleas'd by turns to flatter and revile:
Famous for all that Newton's self had known,
All that by Signs and Symbols can be shewn;
A man whose fame to distant times would live,
And tenfold pay the little boon they give—
And what his Rival? stealing all his days
Poor Scraps of Learning from dull Grecian Plays;
Restoring Meanings where, when all is done,
One is not found or a contested one;
From elder Critics pilfering half they write,
Who from reflectors steal reflected Light
An helper's help, Assistant's Satellite.
The friends of Dr B., with Wrath inflam'd,
Aloud the Learning of their Friend proclaim'd;
Nor in their rage retorting Scorn forbore:
That Dr A. had but a useless Store;
'Twas false that he could dare with Newton's vie;
Let him not dare, 'twas foolishness to try;
And, if he reach'd not what was done before,
What was the profit? he should try no more.
Such was their war, each Combination room
Lost its old peace and its harmonious Gloom.
Whist was no more, or, if again they play'd
Their want of Skill th' ingrossing thoughts betray'd.
While this was passing, a Report was spread—
But those who rais'd were secret as the dead—
That, as the contest caus'd such dire Debate,
To no small scandall of the learned State,
Unlike to end; for losers by their heat
Would keep Resentment to console Defeat—
Then was it best to set them both aside
And choose a friend to either part allied.
Then who but Vincent had a chance remote,
For all to him would give a second Vote;
Then for their Peace they would their first resign,
And give the Station to the good Divine.
From Ear to Ear it went, from Tongue to Tongue,
These Sons of Science and of Peace among;
Both rivals cry'd aloud, they'd rather see
Such Man elected than that A. or B.
None ask'd who first the peaceful thought began
But made it theirs and chose the modest Man.
Aloud the Learning of their Friend proclaim'd;
Nor in their rage retorting Scorn forbore:
That Dr A. had but a useless Store;
'Twas false that he could dare with Newton's vie;
Let him not dare, 'twas foolishness to try;
And, if he reach'd not what was done before,
What was the profit? he should try no more.
Such was their war, each Combination room
Lost its old peace and its harmonious Gloom.
Whist was no more, or, if again they play'd
Their want of Skill th' ingrossing thoughts betray'd.
While this was passing, a Report was spread—
But those who rais'd were secret as the dead—
That, as the contest caus'd such dire Debate,
To no small scandall of the learned State,
Unlike to end; for losers by their heat
Would keep Resentment to console Defeat—
Then was it best to set them both aside
And choose a friend to either part allied.
Then who but Vincent had a chance remote,
For all to him would give a second Vote;
Then for their Peace they would their first resign,
And give the Station to the good Divine.
From Ear to Ear it went, from Tongue to Tongue,
These Sons of Science and of Peace among;
Both rivals cry'd aloud, they'd rather see
Such Man elected than that A. or B.
450
But made it theirs and chose the modest Man.
Thrice in his Life, by Merit and by ways
That please the powers who merit love to raise,
Rose the mild Doctor, and was now a Dean,
With grateful Spirit and a Conscience clean.
Some who behold him in his Weakness now,
By Pain and Time despoil'd of smile and bow,
When Observation finds his shrewd good sense
But prattling Love and tame benevolence,
Presum'd to wonder at Success so strange,
Thoughtless how Time had wrought the mighty Change. [OMITTED]
The Good Man promis'd, so would Heaven afford,
To join the favourite Pair and bless the nuptial Board.
That please the powers who merit love to raise,
Rose the mild Doctor, and was now a Dean,
With grateful Spirit and a Conscience clean.
Some who behold him in his Weakness now,
By Pain and Time despoil'd of smile and bow,
When Observation finds his shrewd good sense
But prattling Love and tame benevolence,
Presum'd to wonder at Success so strange,
Thoughtless how Time had wrought the mighty Change. [OMITTED]
The Good Man promis'd, so would Heaven afford,
To join the favourite Pair and bless the nuptial Board.
As forth they rode, the Heir address'd his friend:
“Now to an antient Maid our course we bend;
“Suppress thy smile, nor by a Glance deride
“The Virgin's Spirit or the Tracy's Pride!” [OMITTED]
“Now to an antient Maid our course we bend;
“Suppress thy smile, nor by a Glance deride
“The Virgin's Spirit or the Tracy's Pride!” [OMITTED]
[_]
[Here follow some forty lines, partly illegible, relating a dream of Emely during the absence of Tracy, and concluding:]
Bound and yet free, they hasten'd to the Shore,
And found their Tent, and all they wish'd to find;
Much was of Bliss without, within was more—
Food for each Sense; amusement for the Mind;
Pictures of pleasant, Books of lively, kind;
And Notes and Instruments, for Music meet;
For one Delight another they resign'd.
Were ever pair transfer'd to happier Seat;
Was ever Youth so blest, was ever Maid so sweet?
And found their Tent, and all they wish'd to find;
Much was of Bliss without, within was more—
Food for each Sense; amusement for the Mind;
Pictures of pleasant, Books of lively, kind;
And Notes and Instruments, for Music meet;
For one Delight another they resign'd.
Were ever pair transfer'd to happier Seat;
Was ever Youth so blest, was ever Maid so sweet?
Yet, but a moment—and the bliss was lost;
Tents, Treasures, Tracy, and Companions gone;
In black, vile boat, on dreadfull billow tost
On salt-sea Lake, sat Emely alone.
On the dark waters melancholy shone
The clouded Regent of the wintry Sky;
The muddy Shore no feet might rest upon;
Beyond, with haggard Looks and threat'ning Eye,
Walk'd Man she fear'd to see, yet fear'd, unseen, to die.
Tents, Treasures, Tracy, and Companions gone;
In black, vile boat, on dreadfull billow tost
On salt-sea Lake, sat Emely alone.
On the dark waters melancholy shone
The clouded Regent of the wintry Sky;
The muddy Shore no feet might rest upon;
Beyond, with haggard Looks and threat'ning Eye,
Walk'd Man she fear'd to see, yet fear'd, unseen, to die.
And, while she fear'd to die and, living, fear'd,
A peril worse than Death she now espied.
On the wild Waves the ruffian men appear'd,
And now approach'd, and now were at her Side;
Her tears they see not and her Cries deride.
Seaz'd in rude Arm, the trembling maid they take;
“Mercy!” her Cry; and, as aloud she cried,
Some unseen form in pitying accents spake:
“Choose first or last thy bliss! now wake, fond maid, awake!”
A peril worse than Death she now espied.
On the wild Waves the ruffian men appear'd,
And now approach'd, and now were at her Side;
Her tears they see not and her Cries deride.
Seaz'd in rude Arm, the trembling maid they take;
“Mercy!” her Cry; and, as aloud she cried,
Some unseen form in pitying accents spake:
“Choose first or last thy bliss! now wake, fond maid, awake!”
451
She woke and wonder'd; then again she slept
And was with Tracy in the meanest Cot,
Wherever Poverty and Terror crept.
Such now appear'd their lamentable Lot;
Dread was on both, as some accursed Plot
Had Cecil for Contriver! and now fled
To the detested and deserted Spot.
With his sad wife! and now in constant dread
And wanting Hope and Health, and needing Peace and Bread.
And was with Tracy in the meanest Cot,
Wherever Poverty and Terror crept.
Such now appear'd their lamentable Lot;
Dread was on both, as some accursed Plot
Had Cecil for Contriver! and now fled
To the detested and deserted Spot.
With his sad wife! and now in constant dread
And wanting Hope and Health, and needing Peace and Bread.
She wept and, weeping, wonder'd at her Tears;
For every woe and care was put to flight.
Lord of his Land her Cecil now appears,
And She the Lady dearest in his Sight.
Her Views are pleasant and her prospect bright;
And then again the warning Spirit spake:
“Grief follow[s] Joy, succeeds to Woe Delight—
“Both thine; which first, fair Dreamer, wilt thou take?
“Choose either, but take both! now, Emely awake!”
[OMITTED]
For every woe and care was put to flight.
Lord of his Land her Cecil now appears,
And She the Lady dearest in his Sight.
Her Views are pleasant and her prospect bright;
And then again the warning Spirit spake:
“Grief follow[s] Joy, succeeds to Woe Delight—
“Both thine; which first, fair Dreamer, wilt thou take?
“Choose either, but take both! now, Emely awake!”
“So ends the Vision and the Sens[e]!” she cry'd.
The Matron smil'd, was thoughtful, and reply'd:
“Thy previous fears to these suggestions led;
“Ah, tell me all that Emely can dread!
“Suspect'st thou Tracy's Virtue, Love or Truth?
“What is thy Trouble?”—“Inexperienc'd Youth.
“Scarcely is Cecil from his Tutor free,
“And my poor Nurse emancipated me,
“When Love our Union plans, and all with Love agree.
“But a few days, and thou wilt see thy Son
“Lord of his land, an Heir at twenty-one!
“And, agèd just nineteen, with purchas'd Aid
“Of special guides, I stand—a wond'rous Maid.
“To grace my Person some their arts combin'd,
“With varied Learning some to cram the Mind;
“But all I know of Letters, Form and Life
“Seems ill to fit me for your Tracy's Wife.
“What are these girlish works, these quivering Notes,
“With which we pain our fingers and our throats,
“What graceful Manners, and an Air of Ease,
“A power of pleasing, a Desire to please,
“A Temper mildly sweet, and gay good things like these?
“Let them be seen, and they engage the while
“The approving Eye and the assenting Smile—
“Nay, join'd with Beauty and display'd with art,
“To one directed, they have gain'd the Heart—
“But will not Tracy ask substantial things;
“Will he be happy with a bride who sings;
“Who, when her Husband would her Virtue trace,
“Will entertain him with each Girlish Grace?
“Will he the partner of his thoughts admire
“For Arts and forms her teachers can inspire,
“And give to her the Secrets of his Heart,
“Whose own has nought but trifles to impart?
“I, too, with him upon the Lake could be,
“Sing in the Tent and dance upon the Lea;
“I in the House of Harmony might raise
“Th' approving Look in him who loves to praise.
“But on that Sea—and now, methinks, I sip
“The salt Sea-brine that dash'd upon my Lip
“In that old Boat, so shocking to each Sense,
“And all the Horror I espied from thence;
“And, more than these, in that vile hovel, den
“Of need and Guilt, that was so dreadful then!
“In Scenes like these, or what these Scenes portend,
“How could I cheer my Partner, how defend,
“Or be th' Adviser, Comforter or friend?
“Should I not then—but let me not appear
“A Vision's Victim, Misery's Volunteer—
“But should I not—at least, till I attain
“Maturer years—in maiden State remain?”
The Matron smil'd, was thoughtful, and reply'd:
“Thy previous fears to these suggestions led;
“Ah, tell me all that Emely can dread!
“Suspect'st thou Tracy's Virtue, Love or Truth?
“What is thy Trouble?”—“Inexperienc'd Youth.
“Scarcely is Cecil from his Tutor free,
“And my poor Nurse emancipated me,
“When Love our Union plans, and all with Love agree.
“But a few days, and thou wilt see thy Son
“Lord of his land, an Heir at twenty-one!
“And, agèd just nineteen, with purchas'd Aid
“Of special guides, I stand—a wond'rous Maid.
“To grace my Person some their arts combin'd,
“With varied Learning some to cram the Mind;
“But all I know of Letters, Form and Life
“Seems ill to fit me for your Tracy's Wife.
“What are these girlish works, these quivering Notes,
“With which we pain our fingers and our throats,
“What graceful Manners, and an Air of Ease,
“A power of pleasing, a Desire to please,
“A Temper mildly sweet, and gay good things like these?
“Let them be seen, and they engage the while
“The approving Eye and the assenting Smile—
“Nay, join'd with Beauty and display'd with art,
“To one directed, they have gain'd the Heart—
“But will not Tracy ask substantial things;
“Will he be happy with a bride who sings;
“Who, when her Husband would her Virtue trace,
“Will entertain him with each Girlish Grace?
“Will he the partner of his thoughts admire
“For Arts and forms her teachers can inspire,
452
“Whose own has nought but trifles to impart?
“I, too, with him upon the Lake could be,
“Sing in the Tent and dance upon the Lea;
“I in the House of Harmony might raise
“Th' approving Look in him who loves to praise.
“But on that Sea—and now, methinks, I sip
“The salt Sea-brine that dash'd upon my Lip
“In that old Boat, so shocking to each Sense,
“And all the Horror I espied from thence;
“And, more than these, in that vile hovel, den
“Of need and Guilt, that was so dreadful then!
“In Scenes like these, or what these Scenes portend,
“How could I cheer my Partner, how defend,
“Or be th' Adviser, Comforter or friend?
“Should I not then—but let me not appear
“A Vision's Victim, Misery's Volunteer—
“But should I not—at least, till I attain
“Maturer years—in maiden State remain?”
“Appeal to Cecil,” said the Matron; “say,
“‘Thou hadst my promise for th' important Day;
“‘The Mother's Wishes, and the full Consent
“‘Of all were thine, nor yet do I repent;
“‘But a dark dream of mingled good and ill
“‘Affects my Bosom and contracts my Will;
“‘And these, it tells me, as I cannot shun,
“‘I fly to Sorrow, to make sure of one.’
“Child of my Heart! these boding fears suppress;
“They often make, they ever point, Distress.
“Tho' young, yet Heav'n has to [thy] charge confin'd
“[The] noble Treasure of a powerful Mind.
“These lighter Graces seek not to condemn;
“'Tis they were made for thee, not [thou] for them;
“They are the polished Cut, and thy fair Soul the Gem.
“Say, should my Tracy be unvex'd with Care,
“Why not his Pleasures as their Mistress share?
“And, in Distress and Sorrow should he pine,
“Unview'd and absent, would they not be thine?
“Then, to thy Promise and thy Cecil true,
“The Path direct that Reason points pursue;
“Love chooses well his Way, when Reason enters too.” [OMITTED]
Near to this Mansion was an antient Hall
Of Veres; still standing, but inclined to fall.
Grey frown'd the massy towers, green shook the ivy'd Wall.
These were, it seemed, a Race from first to last,
A strange, unsocial, mark'd, peculiar Cast[e].
They lov'd all common Manners to defy
And chose a wayward Singularity.
In times of trouble they oppos'd the State—
Of Peace, the Church—and gloried in Debate.
It was their Humour and their boast to be
From all the shackles of the Vulgar free;
All common rules they doubted or denied;
Each for himself determined to decide,
And to himself be Law, rule, Governor and Guide.
“‘Thou hadst my promise for th' important Day;
“‘The Mother's Wishes, and the full Consent
“‘Of all were thine, nor yet do I repent;
“‘But a dark dream of mingled good and ill
“‘Affects my Bosom and contracts my Will;
“‘And these, it tells me, as I cannot shun,
“‘I fly to Sorrow, to make sure of one.’
“Child of my Heart! these boding fears suppress;
“They often make, they ever point, Distress.
“Tho' young, yet Heav'n has to [thy] charge confin'd
“[The] noble Treasure of a powerful Mind.
“These lighter Graces seek not to condemn;
“'Tis they were made for thee, not [thou] for them;
“They are the polished Cut, and thy fair Soul the Gem.
“Say, should my Tracy be unvex'd with Care,
“Why not his Pleasures as their Mistress share?
“And, in Distress and Sorrow should he pine,
“Unview'd and absent, would they not be thine?
“Then, to thy Promise and thy Cecil true,
“The Path direct that Reason points pursue;
“Love chooses well his Way, when Reason enters too.” [OMITTED]
Near to this Mansion was an antient Hall
Of Veres; still standing, but inclined to fall.
Grey frown'd the massy towers, green shook the ivy'd Wall.
These were, it seemed, a Race from first to last,
A strange, unsocial, mark'd, peculiar Cast[e].
They lov'd all common Manners to defy
And chose a wayward Singularity.
In times of trouble they oppos'd the State—
Of Peace, the Church—and gloried in Debate.
It was their Humour and their boast to be
453
All common rules they doubted or denied;
Each for himself determined to decide,
And to himself be Law, rule, Governor and Guide.
Old as it was, its Lords were much afraid
T' inspect the Mansion in the part decay'd,
For twofold Reasons: first, that from the part
Contiguous Ruin into View would start;
And next, they found, so many a Call had shar'd
The Current Cash, that nothing could be spar'd.
T' inspect the Mansion in the part decay'd,
For twofold Reasons: first, that from the part
Contiguous Ruin into View would start;
And next, they found, so many a Call had shar'd
The Current Cash, that nothing could be spar'd.
In the huge Hall, high hung in gilded frames,
Heroic Shreeves and venerable Dames,
With forms majestic and commanding Look,
And smoak-dried all with equalizing smoak;
Yet Kneller's Wigs still curl'd, a comely Sight,
And Lely's Bosoms, tho' in clouded White;
These, with the taper Hand and naked Arms,
In Time's dark veil hid once obtrusive Charms.
The last Esquire, who liv'd himself to please,
Felt through his Life this family disease;
Foe to his Church, it pleas'd him to the heart,
When he could Anger to her friends impart;
And by his own, or by a borrow'd, Jest
See the sad Vicar troubled and distress'd—
The modest Vicar, who with meek good Sense
Fear'd the vain laugh of heartless Insolence.
No Student he; yet, what our Squire had read
Cool'd his Affections and disturb'd his head;
Made him his Neighbours and his friends dispise,
And class himself among the learnt and wise.
To his Dependents he was pleas'd to say:
“Go where you will to hearken or to pray;
“Choose your own Guide, or Guideless take your Way!
“I rest in Church, 'tis decent, what the State
“In Life requires from every Magistrate;
“While you, my friends, unheeded as you pass,
“May sleep at Church, at Meeting, or at Mass;
“Or, placed at Ease beneath the Summer Sky,
“In his own Temple serve the Deity.”
Heroic Shreeves and venerable Dames,
With forms majestic and commanding Look,
And smoak-dried all with equalizing smoak;
Yet Kneller's Wigs still curl'd, a comely Sight,
And Lely's Bosoms, tho' in clouded White;
These, with the taper Hand and naked Arms,
In Time's dark veil hid once obtrusive Charms.
The last Esquire, who liv'd himself to please,
Felt through his Life this family disease;
Foe to his Church, it pleas'd him to the heart,
When he could Anger to her friends impart;
And by his own, or by a borrow'd, Jest
See the sad Vicar troubled and distress'd—
The modest Vicar, who with meek good Sense
Fear'd the vain laugh of heartless Insolence.
No Student he; yet, what our Squire had read
Cool'd his Affections and disturb'd his head;
Made him his Neighbours and his friends dispise,
And class himself among the learnt and wise.
To his Dependents he was pleas'd to say:
“Go where you will to hearken or to pray;
“Choose your own Guide, or Guideless take your Way!
“I rest in Church, 'tis decent, what the State
“In Life requires from every Magistrate;
“While you, my friends, unheeded as you pass,
“May sleep at Church, at Meeting, or at Mass;
“Or, placed at Ease beneath the Summer Sky,
“In his own Temple serve the Deity.”
None comprehend, but all are pleas'd to find
That each may act as he is most inclin'd;
That, as so little it concerns us where
We pray, of what Importance is our Prayer?
Maxims like these, that lead to free Discourse,
The Master furnish'd and the Grooms enforce.
He wed a Cousin, to the worthy End
That none should spoil a breed that none could mend;
For his Opinions she had not a Care,
Nor meant his fancies or his faith to share;
Him she would wed, but was not so refin'd
Or so romantic as to wed his Mind.
She had been told, that her admiring Swain
Had impious notions she could not restrain,
And that he spoke with Insult and Delight
What only sin and Satan could indite.
To this she answer'd, that her husband's Soul
Was not design'd to be at her Controul;
That, if he kept the Vow between them made,
She should no Secrets of [his] Heart invade;
These points concern'd not a reflecting Wife,
Whose Contract ended with the present Life;
She could no Evil in such points discern,
And, if ['twere] there, it was his own Concern.
That each may act as he is most inclin'd;
That, as so little it concerns us where
We pray, of what Importance is our Prayer?
Maxims like these, that lead to free Discourse,
The Master furnish'd and the Grooms enforce.
He wed a Cousin, to the worthy End
That none should spoil a breed that none could mend;
For his Opinions she had not a Care,
Nor meant his fancies or his faith to share;
Him she would wed, but was not so refin'd
Or so romantic as to wed his Mind.
She had been told, that her admiring Swain
Had impious notions she could not restrain,
454
What only sin and Satan could indite.
To this she answer'd, that her husband's Soul
Was not design'd to be at her Controul;
That, if he kept the Vow between them made,
She should no Secrets of [his] Heart invade;
These points concern'd not a reflecting Wife,
Whose Contract ended with the present Life;
She could no Evil in such points discern,
And, if ['twere] there, it was his own Concern.
She in their Bargain took especial Care,
With prudent forsight of the Widow's Share;
Nor was she in her wedded State so fond
As not to look upon the State beyond.
So Swimmers, plunging in the river's tide,
Look to the Landing on the farther Side;
And some on purpose, doubtless, to command
An easy Station where again they land.
This Man and Wife had nature well allied;
For both were positive, and both had pride;
And all the Love that in the bosom glow'd
Was on the person tenderly bestow'd;
As weeds, cut down and burn'd upon the field,
To their own place their little value yield.
Both lov'd a Life expensive, but they still
A something found to counteract the Will:
He was by press of Indolence restrain'd,
And she from knowledge of the Cost refrain'd.
They were not wealthy, and they needed Care
To keep Affairs as buoyant as they were.
In this good Lady it was strange to see
How ignorant a knowing Wife can be.
Learning she held, if not a very Crime,
A needless burden and a Loss of Time.
Of all the world above and this below
She knew as much as she desir'd to know;
And that is more, with all their Search and Care,
Than Locke and Newton fairly could declare.
That the Moon shone on the Assembly night,
Was all she thought or car'd about her Light.
The Seasons came, and she explain'd with Ease
What was in Season both on Land and Seas;
She play'd at Whist with such surprising Skill,
That many censur'd her for playing ill;
But this was error; she disdain'd to cheat,
When she could lawfully and fairly beat;
Beside, she felt a Scruple to the Deed,
Except in Times of the extremest Need.
With prudent forsight of the Widow's Share;
Nor was she in her wedded State so fond
As not to look upon the State beyond.
So Swimmers, plunging in the river's tide,
Look to the Landing on the farther Side;
And some on purpose, doubtless, to command
An easy Station where again they land.
This Man and Wife had nature well allied;
For both were positive, and both had pride;
And all the Love that in the bosom glow'd
Was on the person tenderly bestow'd;
As weeds, cut down and burn'd upon the field,
To their own place their little value yield.
Both lov'd a Life expensive, but they still
A something found to counteract the Will:
He was by press of Indolence restrain'd,
And she from knowledge of the Cost refrain'd.
They were not wealthy, and they needed Care
To keep Affairs as buoyant as they were.
In this good Lady it was strange to see
How ignorant a knowing Wife can be.
Learning she held, if not a very Crime,
A needless burden and a Loss of Time.
Of all the world above and this below
She knew as much as she desir'd to know;
And that is more, with all their Search and Care,
Than Locke and Newton fairly could declare.
That the Moon shone on the Assembly night,
Was all she thought or car'd about her Light.
The Seasons came, and she explain'd with Ease
What was in Season both on Land and Seas;
She play'd at Whist with such surprising Skill,
That many censur'd her for playing ill;
But this was error; she disdain'd to cheat,
When she could lawfully and fairly beat;
Beside, she felt a Scruple to the Deed,
Except in Times of the extremest Need.
Rebells she scorn'd, and wish'd, with all her Soul,
That Ropes might choak whom Laws could not controul,
And a Staunch Patriot was to her a word
For factious wretches, impious and absurd.
Yet to the Cause she lov'd with so much Zeal
She could no more than Approbation deal,
And had her Schemes to lessen or evade
The fairest Tax that could on Man be laid;
Thinking that one so loyal should requite
Her Self for shewing what was just and right.
She kept her Church, and often would exclaim
To her unwilling Partner, “What a Shame!
“Is it so much, a quiet hour to pass
“And give Example to the lower Class!”
That Ropes might choak whom Laws could not controul,
And a Staunch Patriot was to her a word
For factious wretches, impious and absurd.
Yet to the Cause she lov'd with so much Zeal
455
And had her Schemes to lessen or evade
The fairest Tax that could on Man be laid;
Thinking that one so loyal should requite
Her Self for shewing what was just and right.
She kept her Church, and often would exclaim
To her unwilling Partner, “What a Shame!
“Is it so much, a quiet hour to pass
“And give Example to the lower Class!”
She heard of Battles, where ten thousand fell,
And beg'd that none would on the Subject dwell:
“Such Wounds and Carnage, fire, blood, and Smoke!
“Good God! it poison'd every Meal she took!”
And beg'd that none would on the Subject dwell:
“Such Wounds and Carnage, fire, blood, and Smoke!
“Good God! it poison'd every Meal she took!”
Active and able to contend, she still
Found in her Lord a Stubbornness of Will;
A dull resisting Strength, that baffled all her Skill;
A Vis inertiæ—and, in fact, no stone
Could be more stubborn to be wrought upon—
A Mind at rest, that she could neither please
By any Effort, nor by any teize;
A Soul envelop'd deep in intellectual Ease—
But this not always; favourite points to gain,
He would a Warfare valiantly maintain;
And then her Prudence taught the Dame to yield,
That she with double strength might take the field;
And, when victorious in some grand affair,
She [yielded] others as beneath her Care.
Found in her Lord a Stubbornness of Will;
A dull resisting Strength, that baffled all her Skill;
A Vis inertiæ—and, in fact, no stone
Could be more stubborn to be wrought upon—
A Mind at rest, that she could neither please
By any Effort, nor by any teize;
A Soul envelop'd deep in intellectual Ease—
But this not always; favourite points to gain,
He would a Warfare valiantly maintain;
And then her Prudence taught the Dame to yield,
That she with double strength might take the field;
And, when victorious in some grand affair,
She [yielded] others as beneath her Care.
The first-born Child had every dawning Grace
And promis'd Beauty in her form and face.
“We'll call her Julie, if you please, my dear,”
The Mother cry'd, “I doat on Julie Vere.”—
“What! no Remembrance of her Aunt! for shame!
“You doat indeed! be Barbara her name!”—
“Oh! never, never”—and a storm began
That quite o'erpower'd the Spirit of the Man.
The Babe was Julie, nor a Word was heard
That spoke his Wishes to have interfer'd.
And promis'd Beauty in her form and face.
“We'll call her Julie, if you please, my dear,”
The Mother cry'd, “I doat on Julie Vere.”—
“What! no Remembrance of her Aunt! for shame!
“You doat indeed! be Barbara her name!”—
“Oh! never, never”—and a storm began
That quite o'erpower'd the Spirit of the Man.
The Babe was Julie, nor a Word was heard
That spoke his Wishes to have interfer'd.
Succeeding Daughters came with feeble Cry
Who caus'd few Cares, and only liv'd to die;
But ten years past, when, to the Father's Joy
And Mother's Glory, she produc'd a Boy.
Now said the Lady, “If you would consent
“To call him Frederick, I should be content.”
“Be [sure],” he answer'd with a Sneer, “my Love,
“I'll give the Boy a Name you must approve:
“He shall be Julian!” “An heroic Name
“Of some old fool!” said the indignant Dame.
“Fool!” said the Husband; “nay, a glorious Prince;
“Nor have Mankind beheld his equal since.
“He the whole World from Superstition free'd,
“A[nd] left the Bigots neither Cross nor Creed.”
“Well,” said the Wife, with infinite Disdain,
“Could not the Bigots get a Creed again?
“And 'tis your Maxim that all Crimes are bred
“By Men with new Opinions in their Head;
“Was it not foolish in your Prince to force
“These quiet Bigots from their antient Course?”—
“Nay, you mistake; he wanted to restore
“Things as they had been in the Times of yore.”
“What!” quoth the Lady; “both a foe and friend
“To Superstition! this can you defend?
“I knew him not; but I suppose, if known,
“He wish'd his people's folly like his own;
“He whom he could of his Religion made,
“And punish'd those whom he could not persuade.—
“But let your favourite Prince his name afford;
“I will not quarrel with you for a Word.”
The Name she thought would not ungraceful be,
And nothing knew of the Apostacy.
The Priest objected, but the Squire maintain'd
The Point with Vigor, and his purpose gain'd.
Who caus'd few Cares, and only liv'd to die;
But ten years past, when, to the Father's Joy
And Mother's Glory, she produc'd a Boy.
Now said the Lady, “If you would consent
“To call him Frederick, I should be content.”
“Be [sure],” he answer'd with a Sneer, “my Love,
“I'll give the Boy a Name you must approve:
“He shall be Julian!” “An heroic Name
“Of some old fool!” said the indignant Dame.
“Fool!” said the Husband; “nay, a glorious Prince;
“Nor have Mankind beheld his equal since.
“He the whole World from Superstition free'd,
“A[nd] left the Bigots neither Cross nor Creed.”
“Well,” said the Wife, with infinite Disdain,
“Could not the Bigots get a Creed again?
456
“By Men with new Opinions in their Head;
“Was it not foolish in your Prince to force
“These quiet Bigots from their antient Course?”—
“Nay, you mistake; he wanted to restore
“Things as they had been in the Times of yore.”
“What!” quoth the Lady; “both a foe and friend
“To Superstition! this can you defend?
“I knew him not; but I suppose, if known,
“He wish'd his people's folly like his own;
“He whom he could of his Religion made,
“And punish'd those whom he could not persuade.—
“But let your favourite Prince his name afford;
“I will not quarrel with you for a Word.”
The Name she thought would not ungraceful be,
And nothing knew of the Apostacy.
The Priest objected, but the Squire maintain'd
The Point with Vigor, and his purpose gain'd.
Thus liv'd the Couple, daily to contend,
And never wish'd their Quarrels at an End.
They felt no fondness, and no more of hate
Than gave an Edge and pleasure to debate.
Contentions sprang from themes of every kind
And wak'd from Sloth to Energy the Mind;
Quarrels they took, like Bitters, to excite
And give Exertion to the Appetite.
And never wish'd their Quarrels at an End.
They felt no fondness, and no more of hate
Than gave an Edge and pleasure to debate.
Contentions sprang from themes of every kind
And wak'd from Sloth to Energy the Mind;
Quarrels they took, like Bitters, to excite
And give Exertion to the Appetite.
For twice ten years the sprightly Course they try'd;
When the Strife ended, and the Husband died.
But first he thought that she who had been long
A Plague to him would lead his Julian wrong;
Nor would she fail to soothe and to decoy
To her own Will th' affection of the boy.
Therefore a Friend and Neighbour he besought
That no such Evil on the Child be wrought;
And, tho' the friend was Christian, all was well.
This rather pleas'd the dying Infidel;
For he confess'd he had among them seen,
As spake their Actions, some with Conscience clean;
And not Philosophers themselves were found
Above all seeming and within all sound.
Julian was thus in purest knowledge train'd,
In all the Father slighted or disdain'd:
Honour to value at the noblest price;
To hold no parly with a pleading Vice;
And true Religion to defend in Times
When Truth and faith were heresies and Crimes.
When the Strife ended, and the Husband died.
But first he thought that she who had been long
A Plague to him would lead his Julian wrong;
Nor would she fail to soothe and to decoy
To her own Will th' affection of the boy.
Therefore a Friend and Neighbour he besought
That no such Evil on the Child be wrought;
And, tho' the friend was Christian, all was well.
This rather pleas'd the dying Infidel;
For he confess'd he had among them seen,
As spake their Actions, some with Conscience clean;
And not Philosophers themselves were found
Above all seeming and within all sound.
Julian was thus in purest knowledge train'd,
In all the Father slighted or disdain'd:
Honour to value at the noblest price;
To hold no parly with a pleading Vice;
And true Religion to defend in Times
When Truth and faith were heresies and Crimes.
The Man whom Vere judg'd fittest to protect
His Boy, when young, and into Life direct
Was one who made of Talents no display:
A mild good Man, of whom his friends could say
That Foes in vain might blame the Lord of Etheringay—
The “virtuous Boyle,” a Name that he sustain'd,
And well preserv'd the fame that others gain'd.
He with a widow'd Father past his Time
In aiding Merit and suppressing Crime;
Nor till his fortieth year had found the fair
For whom he sigh'd, and sigh'd not in Despair.
Happy with her he seem'd as Man could be—
Still happier with the Infant Emely.
In her fifth year, she saw with childish Joy,
Then in his tenth, her Sire's adopted boy.
Tall, handsome, unabash'd, in Spirit gay
She found a friend in study and in play.
But brief the happy Season; Summons stern
Call'd Julian hence in other place to learn,
For other Studies of severer kind,
And by harsh Contest form the manly Mind.
But, in the time when youthful bosoms beat
Twice in each year for the paternal Seat,
A few Dull Days he with his Mother past,
But gave to Emely the best and last.
Young as he was, he found himself too old
This youthful beauty coolly to behold.
Domestics idly talk'd of future Tyes,
And Julian's Mother of her new Allies.
She pleas'd her boy by praises of his choice,
Before he chose, and gave, unask'd, her voice;
Bade him by Care assiduous to retain
The Influence that his Sex and age must gain;
He was no Child, and, if he were, 'twas just
For him to look to what he had to trust.
His Father left him with involv'd Affairs,
Who had no Mercy on his Wife and Heirs;
He must take heed to what he was about,
Nor fill a Parent's mind with foolish Doubt.
His Person, Mind, Connection, and Degree
Might win a wealthier Maid than Emely;
But still, as providence had seem'd to knit
The destin'd knot, she deem'd it right and fit,
And charg'd him, on her blessing, well to play
His Cards, and never throw his Luck away!
His Boy, when young, and into Life direct
Was one who made of Talents no display:
A mild good Man, of whom his friends could say
That Foes in vain might blame the Lord of Etheringay—
The “virtuous Boyle,” a Name that he sustain'd,
And well preserv'd the fame that others gain'd.
457
In aiding Merit and suppressing Crime;
Nor till his fortieth year had found the fair
For whom he sigh'd, and sigh'd not in Despair.
Happy with her he seem'd as Man could be—
Still happier with the Infant Emely.
In her fifth year, she saw with childish Joy,
Then in his tenth, her Sire's adopted boy.
Tall, handsome, unabash'd, in Spirit gay
She found a friend in study and in play.
But brief the happy Season; Summons stern
Call'd Julian hence in other place to learn,
For other Studies of severer kind,
And by harsh Contest form the manly Mind.
But, in the time when youthful bosoms beat
Twice in each year for the paternal Seat,
A few Dull Days he with his Mother past,
But gave to Emely the best and last.
Young as he was, he found himself too old
This youthful beauty coolly to behold.
Domestics idly talk'd of future Tyes,
And Julian's Mother of her new Allies.
She pleas'd her boy by praises of his choice,
Before he chose, and gave, unask'd, her voice;
Bade him by Care assiduous to retain
The Influence that his Sex and age must gain;
He was no Child, and, if he were, 'twas just
For him to look to what he had to trust.
His Father left him with involv'd Affairs,
Who had no Mercy on his Wife and Heirs;
He must take heed to what he was about,
Nor fill a Parent's mind with foolish Doubt.
His Person, Mind, Connection, and Degree
Might win a wealthier Maid than Emely;
But still, as providence had seem'd to knit
The destin'd knot, she deem'd it right and fit,
And charg'd him, on her blessing, well to play
His Cards, and never throw his Luck away!
Young as he was, the Boy was not at ease.
He now had Motives [and] designs to please;
They hurt his feelings, and he seem'd to trace
Something unpleasant in his Guardian's face.
He now had thoughts that he could not express,
And fear'd that Guardian more and lov'd him less.
But still, to please his Emely, he strove
With all the eager Haste of boyish Love.
She, pure and thoughtless, of all meaning void,
Their walks, their Sports, their Liberty enjoy'd,
But was at times offended by the Care
And strange politeness she disdain'd to share.
When with his Mother Tracy chanc'd to come,
Who had no Care, no Manhood, to assume,
The happy Damsel join'd the laughing boy,
And all was careless Ecstacy and Joy.
He had no Love, no Hate, nor Fear nor Hope,
But gave [his] Humour and his passions Scope;
And oft, when Julian warn'd the nymph to shun
The Rain and Cold, the Shadow and the Sun,
Her favourite Cecil to the roughest Play
Would call, and quarrel if she dar'd delay.
Yet she perversely from the Kindness fled,
And follow'd Cecil wheresoe'er he led;
Nor had the Garden or the Lawn a spot
Where they could venture and they ventur'd not.
He now had Motives [and] designs to please;
They hurt his feelings, and he seem'd to trace
Something unpleasant in his Guardian's face.
He now had thoughts that he could not express,
And fear'd that Guardian more and lov'd him less.
But still, to please his Emely, he strove
With all the eager Haste of boyish Love.
She, pure and thoughtless, of all meaning void,
Their walks, their Sports, their Liberty enjoy'd,
But was at times offended by the Care
And strange politeness she disdain'd to share.
When with his Mother Tracy chanc'd to come,
Who had no Care, no Manhood, to assume,
The happy Damsel join'd the laughing boy,
458
He had no Love, no Hate, nor Fear nor Hope,
But gave [his] Humour and his passions Scope;
And oft, when Julian warn'd the nymph to shun
The Rain and Cold, the Shadow and the Sun,
Her favourite Cecil to the roughest Play
Would call, and quarrel if she dar'd delay.
Yet she perversely from the Kindness fled,
And follow'd Cecil wheresoe'er he led;
Nor had the Garden or the Lawn a spot
Where they could venture and they ventur'd not.
Now from domestic Joy and Youthful Love
To woes domestic we awhile remove.
[Ere] the Good Man his fiftieth year had seen,
With those he number'd who had living been.
Slight was the Warning, and as slight the Need,
When the pure Soul was from the Body freed;
When the griev'd Wife and antient Parent shed
Their Tears of envying Anguish o'er the Dead.
They saw before them but a length of Woes,
And long'd for Death, and languish'd for repose.
But the fair Child, their pity and their pride,
Their sad affections to the World allied,
And on their natures' Tenderness she wrought;
Till they some transient fits of Pleasure caught
And, first forbidding, next receiv'd them sought.
To woes domestic we awhile remove.
[Ere] the Good Man his fiftieth year had seen,
With those he number'd who had living been.
Slight was the Warning, and as slight the Need,
When the pure Soul was from the Body freed;
When the griev'd Wife and antient Parent shed
Their Tears of envying Anguish o'er the Dead.
They saw before them but a length of Woes,
And long'd for Death, and languish'd for repose.
But the fair Child, their pity and their pride,
Their sad affections to the World allied,
And on their natures' Tenderness she wrought;
Till they some transient fits of Pleasure caught
And, first forbidding, next receiv'd them sought.
Seldom the Boys their fairy Mistress met;
The Mother sigh'd and lov'd retirement yet;
Nor could she part with the consoling Aid,
But purchas'd Help to teach the willing Maid.
Joy of her House, the Child sustain'd her part,
And won from woe severe the wounded Heart.
The Mother sigh'd and lov'd retirement yet;
Nor could she part with the consoling Aid,
But purchas'd Help to teach the willing Maid.
Joy of her House, the Child sustain'd her part,
And won from woe severe the wounded Heart.
The good old Man, to Heav'n's will resign'd,
With Faith and Hope sustain'd his modest Mind.
Time and Reflection had their sure Success,
And soft'ned Sorrow rose from deep distress.
To this Religion added thoughts that force
The keenest Anguish from its wasteful Course.
With Faith and Hope sustain'd his modest Mind.
Time and Reflection had their sure Success,
And soft'ned Sorrow rose from deep distress.
To this Religion added thoughts that force
The keenest Anguish from its wasteful Course.
Oft would the Widow, oft the Sire, relate
Their lofty Hopes of an eternal State;
Of Souls that meet in regions where they dwell
In bliss untold and indescribable.
Then, when unceasing Love had brought in View
A Form so graceful and an Heart so true,
And every Action painted to the Life
For the fond father and deserted wife,
Hope stronger still before the Image cast
A veil oblivious, to conceal the past;
Then on the future threw so bright a ray
That Sorrow smil'd in Tears and softly died away.
So, when the heavy Rain[s] more gentle grow
O'er the soft Shower bright gleams the colour'd bow,
That never shines abroad till first the Waters flow;
But on the Eye no cheerful Colours fall,
When not a Cloud appears, or when 'tis cloudy all.
Their lofty Hopes of an eternal State;
Of Souls that meet in regions where they dwell
In bliss untold and indescribable.
Then, when unceasing Love had brought in View
A Form so graceful and an Heart so true,
And every Action painted to the Life
For the fond father and deserted wife,
Hope stronger still before the Image cast
A veil oblivious, to conceal the past;
Then on the future threw so bright a ray
That Sorrow smil'd in Tears and softly died away.
So, when the heavy Rain[s] more gentle grow
O'er the soft Shower bright gleams the colour'd bow,
That never shines abroad till first the Waters flow;
459
When not a Cloud appears, or when 'tis cloudy all.
Now for the World their Emely they train'd,
Who in that World their only good remain'd;
For her they read, and, to enlarge her Views,
Gave Books t' instruct her, to inform, amuse,
And [chose] the best of each; and well they knew to choose.
Who in that World their only good remain'd;
For her they read, and, to enlarge her Views,
Gave Books t' instruct her, to inform, amuse,
And [chose] the best of each; and well they knew to choose.
Some were forbid, and these they laid aside
Nor [raised] a Wish that was not gratified;
Nor were these Parents so extremely nice
That their fair Charge must not be told of Vice.
They better knew the texture of the Mind;
Nor kept a lively Lass, and curious, blind;
But of the useful and the good supplied
A copious Store, and she was satisfied.
Nor [raised] a Wish that was not gratified;
Nor were these Parents so extremely nice
That their fair Charge must not be told of Vice.
They better knew the texture of the Mind;
Nor kept a lively Lass, and curious, blind;
But of the useful and the good supplied
A copious Store, and she was satisfied.
The kind old Student, to oblige the Maid,
The Tricks of Science with its pride display'd:
The Captive Mouse, half-dead for want of Air,
Had Freedom granted at the Virgin's prayer,
Who had no pleasure in th' exhausted House
To view the panting of the captive Mouse.
[For her] Electric fire illum'd the Gloom,
And mimic Lightning flash'd along the room;
Maidens and men, the nymph to entertain,
With rueful Wonder felt the numbing pain;
Amaz'd to think what Creature could bestow
Strokes without force and pain without a blow.
All on a Stool, high rais'd on feet of Glass,
She saw the fiery Sparks her fingers pass;
All who approached the pungent Spark sustain'd;
They felt alike who gave it and who gain'd;
No Arrows Cupid sent from Heart to Heart
Were so alike or gave such equal Smart.
The Tricks of Science with its pride display'd:
The Captive Mouse, half-dead for want of Air,
Had Freedom granted at the Virgin's prayer,
Who had no pleasure in th' exhausted House
To view the panting of the captive Mouse.
[For her] Electric fire illum'd the Gloom,
And mimic Lightning flash'd along the room;
Maidens and men, the nymph to entertain,
With rueful Wonder felt the numbing pain;
Amaz'd to think what Creature could bestow
Strokes without force and pain without a blow.
All on a Stool, high rais'd on feet of Glass,
She saw the fiery Sparks her fingers pass;
All who approached the pungent Spark sustain'd;
They felt alike who gave it and who gain'd;
No Arrows Cupid sent from Heart to Heart
Were so alike or gave such equal Smart.
A Pleasant Sight it was the Sire to view,
In loose, long gown, that brush'd the morning Dew,
With feeble Call the lively Girl delay,
And his light Learning mid her flowers display;
Then show the Species, Genus, Order, Class
To the half-wond'ring and half-laughing Lass.
In loose, long gown, that brush'd the morning Dew,
With feeble Call the lively Girl delay,
And his light Learning mid her flowers display;
Then show the Species, Genus, Order, Class
To the half-wond'ring and half-laughing Lass.
With Care parental he the learned Swede
From all his folly and Allusion freed;
And, when they spake of Stamina and threads,
Nor Wives nor Husbands floated in their Heads;
And flowers were flowers alone, and were not bridal beds.
Polygamy in all its various kind
Was never suffer'd to disturb the Mind;
Nor could she in a simple Daisy see
(Ah, Crime!) superfluous polygamy;
In a bright Sunflower she had not the pain
To find this same polygamy again;
Nor could a Marigold the more approve
To find it there was necessary Love.
From all his folly and Allusion freed;
And, when they spake of Stamina and threads,
Nor Wives nor Husbands floated in their Heads;
And flowers were flowers alone, and were not bridal beds.
Polygamy in all its various kind
Was never suffer'd to disturb the Mind;
Nor could she in a simple Daisy see
(Ah, Crime!) superfluous polygamy;
In a bright Sunflower she had not the pain
To find this same polygamy again;
Nor could a Marigold the more approve
To find it there was necessary Love.
As up the hill and o'er the heath they stray'd,
A curious form beside the hawthorn laid.
A silvery white its outer surface shone;
Its bottom ended in a pointed Cone,
One inch in length; and in the broader Space
Was the faint picture of an human face—
Dead to the Eye, but in the hand a Strife
Of waking Nature shew'd the latent Life.
“Now tell me, Maiden, from that silver shape,
“What prison'd Beauty shall from hence escape?
“Shall a slow Moth the silvery Prison leave,
“That, when a Worm, she left her food to weave,
“And slowly flutter in the dying day—
“The Schoolboy's Pleasure and the Swallow's prey?
“Or shall, with broader Wing and brighter dyes,
“A soaring Creature from her Coffin rise,
“Spread to the Morning Sun her glowing Hue
“Hang o'er the honey'd flower and drink the nectar dew?”
460
A silvery white its outer surface shone;
Its bottom ended in a pointed Cone,
One inch in length; and in the broader Space
Was the faint picture of an human face—
Dead to the Eye, but in the hand a Strife
Of waking Nature shew'd the latent Life.
“Now tell me, Maiden, from that silver shape,
“What prison'd Beauty shall from hence escape?
“Shall a slow Moth the silvery Prison leave,
“That, when a Worm, she left her food to weave,
“And slowly flutter in the dying day—
“The Schoolboy's Pleasure and the Swallow's prey?
“Or shall, with broader Wing and brighter dyes,
“A soaring Creature from her Coffin rise,
“Spread to the Morning Sun her glowing Hue
“Hang o'er the honey'd flower and drink the nectar dew?”
Young Emely the pencil'd figure view'd,
And knew the Image that would soon [protrude],
That she with rapture o'er the Hills pursu'd.
“I know her well,” the infant Beauty cried:
“The Woodland Glory and the Garden's pride;
“I see the Colours o'er her form bespread,
“The softned brown, faint green and dusky red,
“And [glowing] eye of [a] bright azure blue
“On either [angle] of the Wings I view.
“Beneath, her shading puts all art to Shame;
“Queen of her race she reigns, and Io is her Name.”
And knew the Image that would soon [protrude],
That she with rapture o'er the Hills pursu'd.
“I know her well,” the infant Beauty cried:
“The Woodland Glory and the Garden's pride;
“I see the Colours o'er her form bespread,
“The softned brown, faint green and dusky red,
“And [glowing] eye of [a] bright azure blue
“On either [angle] of the Wings I view.
“Beneath, her shading puts all art to Shame;
“Queen of her race she reigns, and Io is her Name.”
Sometimes the Rock within the Quarry gave
The Shell that roll'd beneath the Ocean's wave—
Shell now no more: a gradual Change came on,
And the thin Shell became the Solid Stone.
Yet Shape and Size and Hue and Hinge remain'd,
And a Stone-fish the rocky Valves contain'd.
This led to Questions from the curious Mind;
But who shall Answers to these Questions find?
“Such Wonders are,” replied the Sire; “no more
“I know, my Child; be silent and adore!”
The Shell that roll'd beneath the Ocean's wave—
Shell now no more: a gradual Change came on,
And the thin Shell became the Solid Stone.
Yet Shape and Size and Hue and Hinge remain'd,
And a Stone-fish the rocky Valves contain'd.
This led to Questions from the curious Mind;
But who shall Answers to these Questions find?
“Such Wonders are,” replied the Sire; “no more
“I know, my Child; be silent and adore!”
Oft would the Lass with either Parent go
And hear the wonted Tales of village woe.
She saw their bounteous Hand the bliss impart,
And they the Gladness of her feeling Heart;
Yet Prudence here the various Tale explain'd,
The Signs of Grief sincere and Sorrow feign'd.
Yet here they own'd how much our rules deceive,
And, e'en when wrong, 'tis Kindness to believe.
And hear the wonted Tales of village woe.
She saw their bounteous Hand the bliss impart,
And they the Gladness of her feeling Heart;
Yet Prudence here the various Tale explain'd,
The Signs of Grief sincere and Sorrow feign'd.
Yet here they own'd how much our rules deceive,
And, e'en when wrong, 'tis Kindness to believe.
By Preachers guided, by her Parents train'd
The favour'd Beauty Grace and Knowledge gain'd;
A happy Temper and a Soul sincere,
A lively Spirit and a Conscience clear,
A Taste that seem'd instinctively to fly
The base and mean, were found in Emely.
Hers was a Beauty every Eye approv'd,
Hers the meek sweetness that all tempers mov'd.
The Grave esteem'd her, and the gay and light
Affected Prudence in the Virgin's sight.
The favour'd Beauty Grace and Knowledge gain'd;
A happy Temper and a Soul sincere,
A lively Spirit and a Conscience clear,
A Taste that seem'd instinctively to fly
The base and mean, were found in Emely.
Hers was a Beauty every Eye approv'd,
461
The Grave esteem'd her, and the gay and light
Affected Prudence in the Virgin's sight.
Thus Good and happy, of her Friends the pride,
No Wishes hidden and no Wants denied,
She liv'd serenely, honour'd and belov'd,
Meek tho' indulg'd, and modest tho' approv'd,
No Wishes hidden and no Wants denied,
She liv'd serenely, honour'd and belov'd,
Meek tho' indulg'd, and modest tho' approv'd,
The Sick, the Poor, the suffering and oppress'd
Could all the Grandsire's liberal Soul attest;
While the more griev'd, disturb['d] and doubtful sought
The Widow's Aid, a Mind with Wisdom fraught,
And from the Sister-Spirit found relief
In all the various pangs of mental Grief.
All this the Virgin saw, and she became
Kind as the father, prudent as the dame;
Pleas'd with the Life she liv'd, the Joy she felt,
The Love she shar'd, and the Delight she dealt.
Could all the Grandsire's liberal Soul attest;
While the more griev'd, disturb['d] and doubtful sought
The Widow's Aid, a Mind with Wisdom fraught,
And from the Sister-Spirit found relief
In all the various pangs of mental Grief.
All this the Virgin saw, and she became
Kind as the father, prudent as the dame;
Pleas'd with the Life she liv'd, the Joy she felt,
The Love she shar'd, and the Delight she dealt.
Such were the three by liberal fortune plac'd
Mid all the Good of Life they wish'd to taste;
And, guarded well by Grief's correcting touch,
They tasted not too often or too much.
Mid all the Good of Life they wish'd to taste;
And, guarded well by Grief's correcting touch,
They tasted not too often or too much.
His Guardian lost, young Julian and his friend
Their rural Sports for graver tasks forsook,
Pleas'd the same Years in the same place to spend,
In the same Seat the Students of one book.
Their tastes alike, like Pleasures they partook;
For some Events had Julian's studies stay'd
And of his younger friend an Equal made.
Their rural Sports for graver tasks forsook,
Pleas'd the same Years in the same place to spend,
In the same Seat the Students of one book.
Their tastes alike, like Pleasures they partook;
For some Events had Julian's studies stay'd
And of his younger friend an Equal made.
There was no bitter Rivalship at heart,
No Emulation that like Envy burns;
But what they gain'd they hasten'd to impart,
The Pupil and the Teacher each in turns;
And each a Wish for selfish Pleasure spurns.
A bond so strong the youthful friendship tied
That all but Death to break it they defied.
No Emulation that like Envy burns;
But what they gain'd they hasten'd to impart,
The Pupil and the Teacher each in turns;
And each a Wish for selfish Pleasure spurns.
A bond so strong the youthful friendship tied
That all but Death to break it they defied.
When ceas'd the gentle bondage of the Schools,
To the same College the Companions went;
Theirs was no Friendship that Experience cools;
But still together was the Season spent;
Whether on Study or on Sports intent,
Each on the other happy to attend,
He found an Home where'er he found his friend.
To the same College the Companions went;
Theirs was no Friendship that Experience cools;
But still together was the Season spent;
Whether on Study or on Sports intent,
Each on the other happy to attend,
He found an Home where'er he found his friend.
Cecil was happy in a taste refin'd,
Julian in points abstruse his knowledge sought;
Cecil to classic beauty most inclin'd,
The Mind of Julian was with Science fraught;
But each so much from his Companion caught
That none could here a want of taste detect,
Nor there of points abstruse appear'd Neglect.
[OMITTED]
Julian in points abstruse his knowledge sought;
Cecil to classic beauty most inclin'd,
The Mind of Julian was with Science fraught;
But each so much from his Companion caught
That none could here a want of taste detect,
Nor there of points abstruse appear'd Neglect.
462
[SUSAN AND HER LOVERS.]
The Miller's Son, a foolish Boy who ran
From his dull home, returned a favourite Man;
And not a Daughter of the Village view'd
The Handsome Youth, but Wishes would intrude.
His person all that charms a vacant Eye;
His Air what vacant Minds are fetter'd by;
His Song enchanting, and his manners free;
A dangerous youth in Village Wakes was he!
To all that Nature gave in form or face
He added all that Heroes gain of Grace—
Not all that Grace for Stanhope's self had done,
But what suffic'd to raise the Miller's Son;
To make him first, where many a Youth was seen,
Th' accomplish'd Chesterfield of Stanton Green.
From his dull home, returned a favourite Man;
And not a Daughter of the Village view'd
The Handsome Youth, but Wishes would intrude.
His person all that charms a vacant Eye;
His Air what vacant Minds are fetter'd by;
His Song enchanting, and his manners free;
A dangerous youth in Village Wakes was he!
To all that Nature gave in form or face
He added all that Heroes gain of Grace—
Not all that Grace for Stanhope's self had done,
But what suffic'd to raise the Miller's Son;
To make him first, where many a Youth was seen,
Th' accomplish'd Chesterfield of Stanton Green.
The good old Father blest his lucky Lot
And all his Darling's early Sins forgot;
These “youthful Follies” he was pleas'd to call,
And fondly prais'd the feasted prodigal.
He ask'd no Questions: where the youth had gain'd
What pleas'd so many and what some had pain'd;
He saw not—thought not—if the Soul were stain'd;
Vice was not written on the front, nor where
Those Locks appear'd so carelessly with Care.
He saw him sprightly, active, ardent, brave,
Nor found in one so free his passions' Slave;
Knew not the daring Wishes he obey'd,
The Friend deluded and the ruin'd Maid;
Knew not the Sums the absent Hero spent,
What means acquir'd them, or for what they went;
None saw in him, so form'd [midst men] to shine,
The Wretch whom Sin compell'd to herd with Swine.
And all his Darling's early Sins forgot;
These “youthful Follies” he was pleas'd to call,
And fondly prais'd the feasted prodigal.
He ask'd no Questions: where the youth had gain'd
What pleas'd so many and what some had pain'd;
He saw not—thought not—if the Soul were stain'd;
Vice was not written on the front, nor where
Those Locks appear'd so carelessly with Care.
He saw him sprightly, active, ardent, brave,
Nor found in one so free his passions' Slave;
Knew not the daring Wishes he obey'd,
The Friend deluded and the ruin'd Maid;
Knew not the Sums the absent Hero spent,
What means acquir'd them, or for what they went;
None saw in him, so form'd [midst men] to shine,
The Wretch whom Sin compell'd to herd with Swine.
Yet in that Person there were some who found
The hidden Scars of many a former Wound—
Not gain'd by Valour's Chance in noble Wars,
But vulgar Signs and ignominious Scars.
And there were some, whose hint of grosser kind,
Or true or false, betray'd the Envious Mind.
The hidden Scars of many a former Wound—
Not gain'd by Valour's Chance in noble Wars,
But vulgar Signs and ignominious Scars.
And there were some, whose hint of grosser kind,
Or true or false, betray'd the Envious Mind.
It could not be but Youth so gay and vain
Should strive the loveliest of her Sex to gain;
And sure it added Spur to the pursuit,
When the fair prize was called forbidden fruit.
There are who feel a triumph with the Joy,
When their Success another's peace destroy;
When they Contrition with Desire impart
And break a Contract, while they win a heart.
The greatest pleasures that the Vicious know
From a large mixture of Injustice flow;
Before the jaded Sinner drinks it up,
There must be fire and poison in the Cup.
A mutual pleasure lulls the Wretch to sleep;
He loves th' Enjoyment, where his Victims weep;
Who, fond yet wretched, with indignant Eyes
Spell Rage with Love, and when they bless, despise;
Who both their Weakness and their Virtue prove,
And scorn the Lover, while they yield to Love.
Should strive the loveliest of her Sex to gain;
And sure it added Spur to the pursuit,
When the fair prize was called forbidden fruit.
There are who feel a triumph with the Joy,
When their Success another's peace destroy;
When they Contrition with Desire impart
And break a Contract, while they win a heart.
The greatest pleasures that the Vicious know
From a large mixture of Injustice flow;
Before the jaded Sinner drinks it up,
463
A mutual pleasure lulls the Wretch to sleep;
He loves th' Enjoyment, where his Victims weep;
Who, fond yet wretched, with indignant Eyes
Spell Rage with Love, and when they bless, despise;
Who both their Weakness and their Virtue prove,
And scorn the Lover, while they yield to Love.
Our Hero in the Army learn'd some Skill,
Where he had past a kind of twofold Drill:
First, in the Field, where he for War was train'd,
And in the Tent, where he Assurance gain'd;
Knowledge of Life, and Life's superior Bliss,
And Soldiers' Comforts in a World like this.
Where he had past a kind of twofold Drill:
First, in the Field, where he for War was train'd,
And in the Tent, where he Assurance gain'd;
Knowledge of Life, and Life's superior Bliss,
And Soldiers' Comforts in a World like this.
When first the Youth address'd the Village Maid,
He but the Impulse of his pride obey'd;
But when he knew her an affianc'd Bride,
A rival's Grief increas'd th' heroic Pride.
[OMITTED]
He but the Impulse of his pride obey'd;
But when he knew her an affianc'd Bride,
A rival's Grief increas'd th' heroic Pride.
“Then, dear my Susan, let me now advise,
“Upon this handsome Soldier shut your eyes!
“Nay, shed no more these tears, nay, now suppress these Sighs!
“Think not a Tyrant in your Joseph lives;
“More than his Life in giving you he gives,
“And yet will give; but oh! let me enquire;
“If he deserve you, he must needs admire.”
Susan agree'd, but not without a fear;
And his report was prudent and sincere.
He could assure her that he would not lie
To gain the Hand for which he dar'd to die;
And he was sorry to report the Truth,
For that was not in Favour of the Youth.
First, that he drank and lov'd to sit and prate
At the new Inn upon his Chair of State,
Making the Clowns about him in Surprise
Stare at improbable and boasting Lies.
He no Religion in the World profest,
But made the parson and the Church his jest.
He talk'd of Women with unworthy Mind,
As if they all were wickedly inclin'd;
Spinster or married, he declar'd, not one
Could his Addresses and Advances shun,
And all the difference he could ever trace
Between the Girls in Credit and Disgrace
Was, that the former were demure and tried,
What their free Sisters never fear'd, to hide.
“Such are his Manners; such I fear his Life—
“And can he merit Virtue for a Wife?”
“Upon this handsome Soldier shut your eyes!
“Nay, shed no more these tears, nay, now suppress these Sighs!
“Think not a Tyrant in your Joseph lives;
“More than his Life in giving you he gives,
“And yet will give; but oh! let me enquire;
“If he deserve you, he must needs admire.”
Susan agree'd, but not without a fear;
And his report was prudent and sincere.
He could assure her that he would not lie
To gain the Hand for which he dar'd to die;
And he was sorry to report the Truth,
For that was not in Favour of the Youth.
First, that he drank and lov'd to sit and prate
At the new Inn upon his Chair of State,
Making the Clowns about him in Surprise
Stare at improbable and boasting Lies.
He no Religion in the World profest,
But made the parson and the Church his jest.
He talk'd of Women with unworthy Mind,
As if they all were wickedly inclin'd;
Spinster or married, he declar'd, not one
Could his Addresses and Advances shun,
And all the difference he could ever trace
Between the Girls in Credit and Disgrace
Was, that the former were demure and tried,
What their free Sisters never fear'd, to hide.
“Such are his Manners; such I fear his Life—
“And can he merit Virtue for a Wife?”
Poor Susan sigh'd; she cried; she did not think
That Mr Frank was so dispos'd to drink;
He was intic'd, and that she knew full well,
By them that lov'd the Stories he could tell—
Things strange to us indeed upon the Green;
But they that travel have such wonders seen!
'Twas very wicked, that must be confest,
To make Religion and the Church a Jest;
But wicked Masters, she had heard, discours'd
Before their Servants and such things enforc'd.
Young, and in Camp, and looking up to them,
He might be pardon'd—tho' she must condemn.
'Tis true his vile Opinion of her Sex
Vex'd her at Heart, but was not [meant] to vex;
There were such Women, that was true enough,
And that provok'd the Men to talk such Stuff;
Still, there is too much Licence in his Tongue
And in his Conduct—but he now is young. [OMITTED]
That Mr Frank was so dispos'd to drink;
He was intic'd, and that she knew full well,
464
Things strange to us indeed upon the Green;
But they that travel have such wonders seen!
'Twas very wicked, that must be confest,
To make Religion and the Church a Jest;
But wicked Masters, she had heard, discours'd
Before their Servants and such things enforc'd.
Young, and in Camp, and looking up to them,
He might be pardon'd—tho' she must condemn.
'Tis true his vile Opinion of her Sex
Vex'd her at Heart, but was not [meant] to vex;
There were such Women, that was true enough,
And that provok'd the Men to talk such Stuff;
Still, there is too much Licence in his Tongue
And in his Conduct—but he now is young. [OMITTED]
'Tis hard to say what fears and troubles rose
In Susan's breast, each other to oppose!
Absent the Father, Lover, Friend, she fear'd
For each in turn, and all were more endear'd;
And much she griev'd, that Men she lov'd so well
Could not in Comfort with each other dwell.
Poor Susan then forth hurried, with a Dread
Of Unknown Evil pending o'er her Head!
'Twas in a luckless Hour, when Joseph's Mind
Was full of Care, he anything but kind;
When he look'd back upon the Days serene
That he and Susan had together seen,
[Ere] this free Soldier his fair Maid address'd
And broke with Dreams of Bliss the [wonted] rest.
In Susan's breast, each other to oppose!
Absent the Father, Lover, Friend, she fear'd
For each in turn, and all were more endear'd;
And much she griev'd, that Men she lov'd so well
Could not in Comfort with each other dwell.
Poor Susan then forth hurried, with a Dread
Of Unknown Evil pending o'er her Head!
'Twas in a luckless Hour, when Joseph's Mind
Was full of Care, he anything but kind;
When he look'd back upon the Days serene
That he and Susan had together seen,
[Ere] this free Soldier his fair Maid address'd
And broke with Dreams of Bliss the [wonted] rest.
Yet had he past the Sign, nor turn'd again
For Speech insulting nor for threat'ning vain,
Had not the Youth, contemptuous, from the Inn
Reach'd him, resolv'd a Quarrel to begin:
“Come, stay, my Hero, and determine now
“To whom fair Susan shall engage her Vow!
“Win her and wear her; fight for or decline;
“Begin the battle, or the Bride is mine!”
“Coxcomb!” said Joseph; and by force he free'd
His captive Arm and hasten'd to proceed.
“‘Coxcomb!’” said Francis; “you shall quickly know
“The force and Value of a ‘Coxcomb's’ blow!”
“A Ring! a Ring!” for now a gathering Crowd
Had vulgar and tumultuous Joy avow'd.
“If the Great Cesar had presum'd to Call,
“Him and his Mirmidons—I'd face them all!
“But first I will wipe off this foul Disgrace,
“And bring the Blush of shame upon thy face.”
And [on] the Instant, as he ceas'd to speak,
He struck th' insulted Joseph on the Cheek.
For Speech insulting nor for threat'ning vain,
Had not the Youth, contemptuous, from the Inn
Reach'd him, resolv'd a Quarrel to begin:
“Come, stay, my Hero, and determine now
“To whom fair Susan shall engage her Vow!
“Win her and wear her; fight for or decline;
“Begin the battle, or the Bride is mine!”
“Coxcomb!” said Joseph; and by force he free'd
His captive Arm and hasten'd to proceed.
“‘Coxcomb!’” said Francis; “you shall quickly know
“The force and Value of a ‘Coxcomb's’ blow!”
“A Ring! a Ring!” for now a gathering Crowd
Had vulgar and tumultuous Joy avow'd.
“If the Great Cesar had presum'd to Call,
“Him and his Mirmidons—I'd face them all!
“But first I will wipe off this foul Disgrace,
“And bring the Blush of shame upon thy face.”
465
He struck th' insulted Joseph on the Cheek.
For Frank was one who Lectures never mist
On all the glorious Science of the fist,
Nor wanted Courage for the noble Strife,
And would have fought for Glory or a Wife.
Here too he saw a Foe who could not boast
Of more than Courage and plain strength at most;
“And this,” said he, “the Maiden's Heart must gain:
“Success and Courage never plead in vain.”
With open palm he struck, and hasten'd then
To the warm Conflict of experienc'd Men;
For he was train'd in both the useful Arts
Of breaking Heroes' Ribs and Women's Hearts.
On all the glorious Science of the fist,
Nor wanted Courage for the noble Strife,
And would have fought for Glory or a Wife.
Here too he saw a Foe who could not boast
Of more than Courage and plain strength at most;
“And this,” said he, “the Maiden's Heart must gain:
“Success and Courage never plead in vain.”
With open palm he struck, and hasten'd then
To the warm Conflict of experienc'd Men;
For he was train'd in both the useful Arts
Of breaking Heroes' Ribs and Women's Hearts.
Joseph tho' patient, [now] the blow was dealt
[Both] coming Shame and rising Vengeance felt.
“Scoundrel!” he cried, and yet for patience strove,
By Nature form'd for Harmony and Love;
But, urg'd by Insult of the grossest kind,
He gave to Vengeance and to War his Mind.
He knew his Rival's Strength, his boasted art,
And saw the soulless Crowd upon his part;
He wanted Skill, he car'd not for Applause;
But he had Courage and the better Cause.
[Both] coming Shame and rising Vengeance felt.
“Scoundrel!” he cried, and yet for patience strove,
By Nature form'd for Harmony and Love;
But, urg'd by Insult of the grossest kind,
He gave to Vengeance and to War his Mind.
He knew his Rival's Strength, his boasted art,
And saw the soulless Crowd upon his part;
He wanted Skill, he car'd not for Applause;
But he had Courage and the better Cause.
There was one friend of Joseph, one indeed
Almost unknown and now a friend in need,
With whom nor Time nor Cash he deign'd to spend—
The Landlord of the Bell was Joseph's friend.
But why this Love? for Francis was in Truth,
His Father witness'd, [an] expensive Youth;
And all he spent, as all the Green could tell,
Save short Excursions, all was at the Bell.
But, when the Landlord would at Night repair
To the fair Wife and to the favourite Chair,
He found the Chair wherein he sang and drank
Still near[er] plac'd, and fill'd by Mr Frank;
And from such Trifle—strange as it appears—
Harry was harried by an Husband's fears.
He wish'd that Joseph by some lucky blow
Might lay the Hero of the people low;
It would have pleas'd him to have told his Wife
How the poor youth had struggled for his life.
For Harry's Malice was of fatal kind;
He had no milky Softness in his Mind;
His Love and Favour from his Hatred rose;
His Friend was help'd, his Rival to oppose.
Almost unknown and now a friend in need,
With whom nor Time nor Cash he deign'd to spend—
The Landlord of the Bell was Joseph's friend.
But why this Love? for Francis was in Truth,
His Father witness'd, [an] expensive Youth;
And all he spent, as all the Green could tell,
Save short Excursions, all was at the Bell.
But, when the Landlord would at Night repair
To the fair Wife and to the favourite Chair,
He found the Chair wherein he sang and drank
Still near[er] plac'd, and fill'd by Mr Frank;
And from such Trifle—strange as it appears—
Harry was harried by an Husband's fears.
He wish'd that Joseph by some lucky blow
Might lay the Hero of the people low;
It would have pleas'd him to have told his Wife
How the poor youth had struggled for his life.
For Harry's Malice was of fatal kind;
He had no milky Softness in his Mind;
His Love and Favour from his Hatred rose;
His Friend was help'd, his Rival to oppose.
Muse of my Choice and Mistress of my Time,
Who leav'st the gay, the grand, and the sublime—
These who without an Atmosphere are known,
And paintest Creatures just as they are shown:
Say, can'st thou ken the Science of the Fist
And know the Language of the Pugilist?
Not so, alas! What Glory had we found,
Could'st thou have sweetly sung of every Round?
Well! but we saw, and briefly can declare,
The Blows' Effect, if not what Blows they were.
First, strong in Ale and Anger Frank appear'd,
Already Conqueror by the Rabble cheer'd;
Who, when the weaker Man is driv'n about
And Soul and Body hurt, insulting shout;
When the elated Victor stares around,
His Ears are tickled with th' applauding sound;
[While] the poor Wretch who sobs upon the Earth
Hears the unfeeling Rabble's mad'ning Mirth.
Who leav'st the gay, the grand, and the sublime—
These who without an Atmosphere are known,
And paintest Creatures just as they are shown:
Say, can'st thou ken the Science of the Fist
And know the Language of the Pugilist?
Not so, alas! What Glory had we found,
466
Well! but we saw, and briefly can declare,
The Blows' Effect, if not what Blows they were.
First, strong in Ale and Anger Frank appear'd,
Already Conqueror by the Rabble cheer'd;
Who, when the weaker Man is driv'n about
And Soul and Body hurt, insulting shout;
When the elated Victor stares around,
His Ears are tickled with th' applauding sound;
[While] the poor Wretch who sobs upon the Earth
Hears the unfeeling Rabble's mad'ning Mirth.
But Joseph, patient and with patience strong,
Felt not the Insult, nor perceiv'd it long.
Warm'd in the war, the clamour he disdain'd,
And half the Victory by his Temper gain'd.
He saw the rage of youth; he saw the pride,
And felt that both would lessen or subside;
His Tendons stiff grew pliant by the use
That relaxation in the young produce;
And, when he grew more eager for the fight,
It did not yield his Rival such delight.
When he could bravely in the Action mix,
He backward drew with scientific Tricks,
And watched and waited, till in Harry's face
He saw a Smile betok'ning his Disgrace.
Felt not the Insult, nor perceiv'd it long.
Warm'd in the war, the clamour he disdain'd,
And half the Victory by his Temper gain'd.
He saw the rage of youth; he saw the pride,
And felt that both would lessen or subside;
His Tendons stiff grew pliant by the use
That relaxation in the young produce;
And, when he grew more eager for the fight,
It did not yield his Rival such delight.
When he could bravely in the Action mix,
He backward drew with scientific Tricks,
And watched and waited, till in Harry's face
He saw a Smile betok'ning his Disgrace.
And now had Victory crown'd the juster Cause,
And patient Virtue gain'd the fond Applause—
For even Virtue when it meets Success
Will Crowds Applaud, altho' they love it less.
A Round was over, and our Soldier found
No Inclination for another Round;
But Shame compell'd and Hatred, and he flew
To end his work, and was successful too.
By one dread blow on his unguarded Side
Poor Joseph fell, and, “he is gone,” they cry'd.
“Foul and dishonest!” said the Friends of Truth;
“Lawful and fair!” th' Abettors of the Youth.
Or fair or foul, the now unhappy Man
Was lost, and the victorious Champion ran,
He knew not where, the army in his Sight,
And Susan fond companion of his flight.
And patient Virtue gain'd the fond Applause—
For even Virtue when it meets Success
Will Crowds Applaud, altho' they love it less.
A Round was over, and our Soldier found
No Inclination for another Round;
But Shame compell'd and Hatred, and he flew
To end his work, and was successful too.
By one dread blow on his unguarded Side
Poor Joseph fell, and, “he is gone,” they cry'd.
“Foul and dishonest!” said the Friends of Truth;
“Lawful and fair!” th' Abettors of the Youth.
Or fair or foul, the now unhappy Man
Was lost, and the victorious Champion ran,
He knew not where, the army in his Sight,
And Susan fond companion of his flight.
Just to his Wish and in his Way, the Maid
Was with her friend dejected and afraid;
Sad her Conjectures, and she hasten'd on
Till Strength and Life and Thought and Hope were gone.
A fallen Tree receiv'd her, and she wept,
Till Nature fainted and Sensation slept.—
“Arise, my Charmer, Mistress of my Heart;
“Share in my Joy, and never will we part!
“Thine old pretender has presum'd to try
“Our right in Battle—we awhile must fly.
“Come then, my Beauty; and to-morrow's Sun,
“That shews thee lovely, shall behold us one.”
Was with her friend dejected and afraid;
Sad her Conjectures, and she hasten'd on
Till Strength and Life and Thought and Hope were gone.
A fallen Tree receiv'd her, and she wept,
Till Nature fainted and Sensation slept.—
“Arise, my Charmer, Mistress of my Heart;
“Share in my Joy, and never will we part!
“Thine old pretender has presum'd to try
“Our right in Battle—we awhile must fly.
“Come then, my Beauty; and to-morrow's Sun,
“That shews thee lovely, shall behold us one.”
467
Affrighted Susan heard th' imperfect boast;
“And Joseph dead?”—“Disabled, love, at most.
“But, tho' no Laws could my fair Deeds condemn,
“Their Laws have agents, and I fly from them.
“The Man will live, but he demands his Bed,
“And thy kind Father will support his Head;
“[Meanwhile], sweet Susan, shall thy Charms repose
“In Arms destructive only to our foes.”
“And Joseph dead?”—“Disabled, love, at most.
“But, tho' no Laws could my fair Deeds condemn,
“Their Laws have agents, and I fly from them.
“The Man will live, but he demands his Bed,
“And thy kind Father will support his Head;
“[Meanwhile], sweet Susan, shall thy Charms repose
“In Arms destructive only to our foes.”
“Injur'd and dying!” said the Maid, “and I
“Th' accursed Cause! Go, Man of Terror, fly!
“I dream'd of one like thee, but he was kind
“And did no Murder! Go, thy Safety find!
“Where is my Father?” and, of Soul bereft,
She rose and sought the Cottage she had left.
In vain the Youth intreated—vainly tried
Alarm; his Words rejected or despised.
Yet still he follow'd, but at Distance saw
The Father's Cot that forc'd him to withdraw.
“Th' accursed Cause! Go, Man of Terror, fly!
“I dream'd of one like thee, but he was kind
“And did no Murder! Go, thy Safety find!
“Where is my Father?” and, of Soul bereft,
She rose and sought the Cottage she had left.
In vain the Youth intreated—vainly tried
Alarm; his Words rejected or despised.
Yet still he follow'd, but at Distance saw
The Father's Cot that forc'd him to withdraw.
Borne to his Bed, th' unhappy Joseph found
The wounded Mind inflam'd his Body's wound;
Deeply he griev'd to think a Youth so vile
And so deprav'd must win his Susan's smile;
[That] this vindictive Stroke should Victory gain
And all his Hope and Courage be in vain!
“And is it then a World where none can trust
“On Truth and Virtue—'tis a World unjust!”
Sorely he griev'd, till Sleep a short suspense
Gave to his Sorrow and o'ercame the Sense.
E'en in his Dream he saw his Rival blest
With the false Maid, and anguish broke his rest—
Anguish no more, for watchful at his bed
He saw the Maid, by genuine pity led. [OMITTED]
'Twas fond Esteem! and that immoral boy
She now despis'd and his accursed Joy.
[Ere] yet the wicked Vengeance she was told,
The vile Avenger she could ill behold,
And, as he urg'd his prayer, indignant grew,
And all her fondness [and her faith] withdrew.
Joseph she saw, his Virtues and his Worth,
And Love from grateful Sorrow took his Birth.
He had her pity, her Esteem, before,
When he was glad—he suffer'd, and had more;
Nor Groan escap'd him, but it touch'd the Maid,
Who, as he did not, would herself upbraid.
Advis'd, the Father, when he saw her Care,
Forbore to urge her and agreed to spare;
And the sick-room was made a mild retreat
For rising Hope and opening Love to meet.
Then Joseph told her he could yet forgive,
Would Frank reform, and they in joy might live;
While he—“Oh! speak not!” [quickly] she replied,
“Thine will I be, and that will be my pride!
“It was a foolish Thought, a Fancy fled,
“A Dream dissolv'd—the very wish is dead.
“I thought that all things yielded to my Youth,
“And follow'd Fancy till she fled from Truth;
“Now I behold thee virtuous, as thou art,
“Nor yield Esteem more freely than my Heart,
“And him the worthless being he appears,
“Taught to create our Terrors and our tears.”
The wounded Mind inflam'd his Body's wound;
Deeply he griev'd to think a Youth so vile
And so deprav'd must win his Susan's smile;
[That] this vindictive Stroke should Victory gain
And all his Hope and Courage be in vain!
“And is it then a World where none can trust
“On Truth and Virtue—'tis a World unjust!”
Sorely he griev'd, till Sleep a short suspense
Gave to his Sorrow and o'ercame the Sense.
E'en in his Dream he saw his Rival blest
With the false Maid, and anguish broke his rest—
Anguish no more, for watchful at his bed
He saw the Maid, by genuine pity led. [OMITTED]
'Twas fond Esteem! and that immoral boy
She now despis'd and his accursed Joy.
[Ere] yet the wicked Vengeance she was told,
The vile Avenger she could ill behold,
And, as he urg'd his prayer, indignant grew,
And all her fondness [and her faith] withdrew.
Joseph she saw, his Virtues and his Worth,
And Love from grateful Sorrow took his Birth.
He had her pity, her Esteem, before,
When he was glad—he suffer'd, and had more;
Nor Groan escap'd him, but it touch'd the Maid,
Who, as he did not, would herself upbraid.
Advis'd, the Father, when he saw her Care,
Forbore to urge her and agreed to spare;
And the sick-room was made a mild retreat
For rising Hope and opening Love to meet.
Then Joseph told her he could yet forgive,
Would Frank reform, and they in joy might live;
While he—“Oh! speak not!” [quickly] she replied,
468
“It was a foolish Thought, a Fancy fled,
“A Dream dissolv'd—the very wish is dead.
“I thought that all things yielded to my Youth,
“And follow'd Fancy till she fled from Truth;
“Now I behold thee virtuous, as thou art,
“Nor yield Esteem more freely than my Heart,
“And him the worthless being he appears,
“Taught to create our Terrors and our tears.”
CAPTAIN GODFREY.
[OMITTED]
Musing, he said—“So rich, and so addressed,
“What can I hope? be, foolish heart, at rest!
“Here fate has brought me—now, suppose I write,
“If but my Name, and leave it for her sight?”
That instant sank the moon, and Godfrey cried:
“So perish all my Views!” and deeply sighed;
Then, with heroic Motion striding far
And Voice of Valour—“Let us to the War!”
But, as he sighed, he heard approaching feet
Behind those trees so shady and so sweet;
Then, dimly seen, came on with Motion slow
That pair whose Hearts he most desired to know.
The Lady's Accent he remembered well;
The Lover's Name his Rival's fears could spell.
He shrank, disordered, to his hiding place;
To be detected was for life disgrace.
The best, the wisest, method he could take
Was, undisguised, a safe retreat to make;
But some mix'd Motives, not defin'd with Ease,
Led [him] behind the Phalanx of the trees.—
But who will pardon to an act extend
So full of Fear, so doubtful in the End?—
Cautious he stood, this Hand upon the Sword
That on his Heart, and listened to each Word.
“Yes, you are good, and have in this complied;
“Be kinder yet, and now my Fate decide!
“Thought I, that months, nay years, attending still
“Could soften that dear Heart or lead that will,
“Thro' many an arduous Month and many a year
“I would attend, adore, and persevere;
“But thou, tho' gentlest of the gentle Kind,
“Hast with the frankest heart the firmest Mind;
“Tho' with that firmness true Compassion lives,
“And thy Heart murmurs at the Grief it gives.
“Then, when I view thee so unmov'd tho' mild,
“Gentle yet just, my Judgment is beguil'd.
“Oh! could I see thee angry and, when teiz'd,
“Mov'd to resent—now sooth'd, and now displeas'd—
“I should have hope; for, as thy Anger rose,
“The Grief it caused thy Pity would compose.
“Could I a weakness in thy Heart discern,
“Love there might enter and enjoy his turn;
“But, tho' I seek thee early, leave thee late,
“And all day long upon thy pleasure wait,
“I find thee firm as Truth and fixed as Fate.
“Yet, what forbids? my years beyond thy own
“Are few, nor these in peevish Manners shewn;
“My Title, fortune, friends and family are known.
“These are not much; but I have more than these;
“Sure, love like mine and faithfulness might please.
“Our Thoughts in all their Views appear to strike
“On the same Chords, and we have tastes alike—
“And shall we here alone the difference prove,
“And there be no Similitude in Love?
“What can I hope? be, foolish heart, at rest!
“Here fate has brought me—now, suppose I write,
“If but my Name, and leave it for her sight?”
That instant sank the moon, and Godfrey cried:
“So perish all my Views!” and deeply sighed;
Then, with heroic Motion striding far
And Voice of Valour—“Let us to the War!”
But, as he sighed, he heard approaching feet
Behind those trees so shady and so sweet;
Then, dimly seen, came on with Motion slow
That pair whose Hearts he most desired to know.
The Lady's Accent he remembered well;
The Lover's Name his Rival's fears could spell.
He shrank, disordered, to his hiding place;
To be detected was for life disgrace.
The best, the wisest, method he could take
Was, undisguised, a safe retreat to make;
But some mix'd Motives, not defin'd with Ease,
Led [him] behind the Phalanx of the trees.—
But who will pardon to an act extend
So full of Fear, so doubtful in the End?—
Cautious he stood, this Hand upon the Sword
That on his Heart, and listened to each Word.
“Yes, you are good, and have in this complied;
“Be kinder yet, and now my Fate decide!
“Thought I, that months, nay years, attending still
“Could soften that dear Heart or lead that will,
“Thro' many an arduous Month and many a year
“I would attend, adore, and persevere;
“But thou, tho' gentlest of the gentle Kind,
“Hast with the frankest heart the firmest Mind;
“Tho' with that firmness true Compassion lives,
“And thy Heart murmurs at the Grief it gives.
“Then, when I view thee so unmov'd tho' mild,
“Gentle yet just, my Judgment is beguil'd.
“Oh! could I see thee angry and, when teiz'd,
469
“I should have hope; for, as thy Anger rose,
“The Grief it caused thy Pity would compose.
“Could I a weakness in thy Heart discern,
“Love there might enter and enjoy his turn;
“But, tho' I seek thee early, leave thee late,
“And all day long upon thy pleasure wait,
“I find thee firm as Truth and fixed as Fate.
“Yet, what forbids? my years beyond thy own
“Are few, nor these in peevish Manners shewn;
“My Title, fortune, friends and family are known.
“These are not much; but I have more than these;
“Sure, love like mine and faithfulness might please.
“Our Thoughts in all their Views appear to strike
“On the same Chords, and we have tastes alike—
“And shall we here alone the difference prove,
“And there be no Similitude in Love?
“Would'st thou thy Sister call to Life, O take
“My Heart instead and what shall please thee make!
“If Time, Entreaty and thy friends, incline
“That Heart to love, I could insure thee mine;
“But, if that Heart have purpose fix'd and sure,
“And I must Coldness tho' not scorn endure;
“If something tell thee, ‘Heed not Fancy's tale
“‘Nor let her Visions o'er my Truth prevail’;
“If that dread something, call it what you will,
“Oppose me strongly and oppose me still:
“Be like thyself, be candid, and impart
“Thyself the Tidings to a doubtful Heart;
“If Bliss await him, make thy Lover blest;
“If not, oh, give these doubts and Terrors rest!”
“My Heart instead and what shall please thee make!
“If Time, Entreaty and thy friends, incline
“That Heart to love, I could insure thee mine;
“But, if that Heart have purpose fix'd and sure,
“And I must Coldness tho' not scorn endure;
“If something tell thee, ‘Heed not Fancy's tale
“‘Nor let her Visions o'er my Truth prevail’;
“If that dread something, call it what you will,
“Oppose me strongly and oppose me still:
“Be like thyself, be candid, and impart
“Thyself the Tidings to a doubtful Heart;
“If Bliss await him, make thy Lover blest;
“If not, oh, give these doubts and Terrors rest!”
“It grieves me much,” replied the gentle Maid,
While Godfrey listened, of each Word afraid,
“That I am urged those Motives to explain
“Which safe Experience bids the Sex retain.
“What would my Friend? hast thou a Right to see
“The Heart's fond folly, scarcely known to me?
“Say, is it friendly, is it kind to trace
“The tender failings of an erring race,
“In whom the faintest Speck is held Disgrace?
“'Tis true I cannot with thy wish comply;
“But is it right that I should tell thee why,
“And to thy harder Sex make failings known
“That I conceal with Caution from my own?
While Godfrey listened, of each Word afraid,
“That I am urged those Motives to explain
“Which safe Experience bids the Sex retain.
“What would my Friend? hast thou a Right to see
“The Heart's fond folly, scarcely known to me?
“Say, is it friendly, is it kind to trace
“The tender failings of an erring race,
“In whom the faintest Speck is held Disgrace?
“'Tis true I cannot with thy wish comply;
“But is it right that I should tell thee why,
“And to thy harder Sex make failings known
“That I conceal with Caution from my own?
“Then [hear]—and know I own thee for a friend;
“And my Confession thy Suspense shall end.
“Know then, I cannot from my breast expel
“A strong Impression fated there to dwell;
“Time but confirms it, and the pain it brings
“Proves that it lives, for it has life that stings.
“Ere yet my Father knew this Load of Wealth,
“And my lov'd Sisters shar'd my Views in Health,
“A Youth address'd me—I prefer'd him then;
“But I was warn'd of the Designs of Men.
“His Views in Life were humble, he confest;
“But this [OMITTED], nor could it be suppress'd.
“In him 'twas policy to win the Truth;
“And then I fear'd the fickle Soul of Youth.
“Yet, [though] rejected, he was ever near,
“And uninvited—let me own it, dear!
“My parents doubted; I was urged to prove
“The Heart I valued, [ere] I own'd the love.
“My Sister only was his friend; she knew—
“So love persuades—that one so brave was true;
“For he was brave and had in battle shown
“That War and Danger had familiar grown.
“An Hero's favourite Nymph the poet sings,
“But Heroes' Widows are neglected Things.—
“Thus, while Affection shone with Fear, an Hour
“Arrived to prove his patience and my power.
“For an offence so trifling, that one day
“Had swept the memory of the Crime away,
“In spleen, in spite, in folly I reprov'd
“And banish'd from my Sight the Man I lov'd!
“[His] purpos'd visit in the morn I knew,
“And bore in mind my purpos'd pardon too.
“‘'Tis a last trial,’ to my Heart I said;
“‘When [he returns], thy Will shall be obey'd.’
“Ah! my kind Friend, remember, in thy Woes,
“No Self-reproach forbids thy Soul repose!
“But I detain thee; would I had detain'd
“The Man my Folly, but not solely, pain'd!
“Ere that return a sudden order bore
“My Godfrey hence, and he return'd no more.
“Dear Suffering Youth, forgive me; I lament
“A Man to Misery by my Humour sent;
“Doomed to rude War, sore Wounds, and long Imprisonment!
“How has he curs'd the fickle Mind! how long
“Brooded in Anguish o'er the causeless Wrong!
“[OMITTED]—or now perhaps a foreign Grave
“Holds one so dear, so tender and so brave!
“Nay, give thy Pardon; did'st thou not implore
“The frank Confession? I will add no more.
“Choose thou a virgin Heart, nor now behold
“This face of Calmness with a bosom cold—
“Cold to new Love and, while my Life shall last,
“Hopeless of Joy and dwelling in the past!
“Tho' he returns not, justice bids me fly
“Thy prayer; thy Hand 'tis Honour to deny;
“And oh! if yet I might my Visions trust,
“And he returns, Love, tell me to be just!”
“And my Confession thy Suspense shall end.
“Know then, I cannot from my breast expel
“A strong Impression fated there to dwell;
“Time but confirms it, and the pain it brings
“Proves that it lives, for it has life that stings.
“Ere yet my Father knew this Load of Wealth,
“And my lov'd Sisters shar'd my Views in Health,
“A Youth address'd me—I prefer'd him then;
470
“His Views in Life were humble, he confest;
“But this [OMITTED], nor could it be suppress'd.
“In him 'twas policy to win the Truth;
“And then I fear'd the fickle Soul of Youth.
“Yet, [though] rejected, he was ever near,
“And uninvited—let me own it, dear!
“My parents doubted; I was urged to prove
“The Heart I valued, [ere] I own'd the love.
“My Sister only was his friend; she knew—
“So love persuades—that one so brave was true;
“For he was brave and had in battle shown
“That War and Danger had familiar grown.
“An Hero's favourite Nymph the poet sings,
“But Heroes' Widows are neglected Things.—
“Thus, while Affection shone with Fear, an Hour
“Arrived to prove his patience and my power.
“For an offence so trifling, that one day
“Had swept the memory of the Crime away,
“In spleen, in spite, in folly I reprov'd
“And banish'd from my Sight the Man I lov'd!
“[His] purpos'd visit in the morn I knew,
“And bore in mind my purpos'd pardon too.
“‘'Tis a last trial,’ to my Heart I said;
“‘When [he returns], thy Will shall be obey'd.’
“Ah! my kind Friend, remember, in thy Woes,
“No Self-reproach forbids thy Soul repose!
“But I detain thee; would I had detain'd
“The Man my Folly, but not solely, pain'd!
“Ere that return a sudden order bore
“My Godfrey hence, and he return'd no more.
“Dear Suffering Youth, forgive me; I lament
“A Man to Misery by my Humour sent;
“Doomed to rude War, sore Wounds, and long Imprisonment!
“How has he curs'd the fickle Mind! how long
“Brooded in Anguish o'er the causeless Wrong!
“[OMITTED]—or now perhaps a foreign Grave
“Holds one so dear, so tender and so brave!
“Nay, give thy Pardon; did'st thou not implore
“The frank Confession? I will add no more.
“Choose thou a virgin Heart, nor now behold
“This face of Calmness with a bosom cold—
“Cold to new Love and, while my Life shall last,
“Hopeless of Joy and dwelling in the past!
“Tho' he returns not, justice bids me fly
“Thy prayer; thy Hand 'tis Honour to deny;
“And oh! if yet I might my Visions trust,
“And he returns, Love, tell me to be just!”
471
THE AMOURS OF G[EORGE].
“Brother, what tho' thy mind is strong,
“And thou art classed the wise among,
“Yet in thy earlier Life did'st thou
“To Love's imperious Godhead bow,
“And [worshipp'dst] ardently in Truth
“The Idol of thy giddy youth.”
G.
“And thou art classed the wise among,
“Yet in thy earlier Life did'st thou
“To Love's imperious Godhead bow,
“And [worshipp'dst] ardently in Truth
“The Idol of thy giddy youth.”
“I read Romances, Joseph, then,
“And wrote with a poetic Pen;
“I chose in lonely walks to tread,
“And held my Converse with the Dead.
“I built me Castles rich and fair,
“And shut in Wealth and Virtue there,
“With Bliss that nowhere else will grow,
“And Fame not realized below,
“And power that none should dare contest,
“And Beauty none beside possess'd;
“With all that Fancy ever gave
“To Man who would his Miseries brave.
“My Form was slender; I was tall,
“And awkward were my Motions all;
“Nor was a Form indebted less
“To Fashion, Manner, Grace or Dress.
“This Form was not for Love designed,
“But he intirely ruled the Mind;
“And, as I felt that I should prove
“A most obedient Slave to Love,
“So did I judge that he should be
“A most propitious God to me:
“To give to me the gentlest Heart
“That ever felt his keenest Dart,
“Or that inspired the sweetest Look,
“Or kindly in the features spoke.
“And wrote with a poetic Pen;
“I chose in lonely walks to tread,
“And held my Converse with the Dead.
“I built me Castles rich and fair,
“And shut in Wealth and Virtue there,
“With Bliss that nowhere else will grow,
“And Fame not realized below,
“And power that none should dare contest,
“And Beauty none beside possess'd;
“With all that Fancy ever gave
“To Man who would his Miseries brave.
“My Form was slender; I was tall,
“And awkward were my Motions all;
“Nor was a Form indebted less
“To Fashion, Manner, Grace or Dress.
“This Form was not for Love designed,
“But he intirely ruled the Mind;
“And, as I felt that I should prove
“A most obedient Slave to Love,
“So did I judge that he should be
“A most propitious God to me:
“To give to me the gentlest Heart
“That ever felt his keenest Dart,
“Or that inspired the sweetest Look,
“Or kindly in the features spoke.
“Possessed of Fancies vain and proud
“I spurned the male and female Crowd,
“And hoped in some auspicious Hour
“In some May Morn, in some green Bower,
“Where I should soothe my dream of Grief,
“To meet the Lady of the Leaf;
“Her Love and Favour to implore
“And be her Knight for evermore.
“But let me raise my Style, and tell
“What in my Vision me befell.
“I spurned the male and female Crowd,
“And hoped in some auspicious Hour
“In some May Morn, in some green Bower,
“Where I should soothe my dream of Grief,
“To meet the Lady of the Leaf;
“Her Love and Favour to implore
“And be her Knight for evermore.
“But let me raise my Style, and tell
“What in my Vision me befell.
“One day I mus'd beside a Wood,
“As I had often done before,
“And [seemed] so rich and brave and good
“As never Man was made before.
“A green Inclosure was beside,
“And, not far distant on the Hill,
“A noble Seat, our County's Pride,
“Built with abundant Care and Skill;
“And thence had issued Ladies fair
“And walked within the Place below;
“But the green Wood conceal'd the pair
“From me, who walking felt the Glow
“Of all the Vanity and pride
“That push'd the intruding World aside.
“And now, while thus enwrap'd and fed
“With thoughts that self indulgence bred,
“I heard a Shriek so long and loud
“That prov'd the Shriekers were not proud,
“But would accept the meanest Aid
“That ever succour'd folk afraid.
“As I had often done before,
“And [seemed] so rich and brave and good
“As never Man was made before.
“A green Inclosure was beside,
“And, not far distant on the Hill,
472
“Built with abundant Care and Skill;
“And thence had issued Ladies fair
“And walked within the Place below;
“But the green Wood conceal'd the pair
“From me, who walking felt the Glow
“Of all the Vanity and pride
“That push'd the intruding World aside.
“And now, while thus enwrap'd and fed
“With thoughts that self indulgence bred,
“I heard a Shriek so long and loud
“That prov'd the Shriekers were not proud,
“But would accept the meanest Aid
“That ever succour'd folk afraid.
“For so it was: that pair divine
“Were met by some rebellious Kine,
“Who, in their stubborn Pride and Scorn,
“With surly Hoof and threat'ning Horn
“Usurp'd the Path, and, as the Maids
“Drew near, and [would have] sought its Shades,
“[Ere] they could reach the guarding Wood,
“Some surly Beast their Way withstood.
“And hence the dismal Shriek that drew
“My Eyes, and asked my Action too;
“As Justness prompted; forth I ran
“Resolv'd to show myself a Man;
“And, plucking forth an oaken Bough,
“I ran like Guy to fight the Cow;
“And, like a valiant Champion, fixed
“Myself the Maids and Cows betwixt.
“And, tho' I had not breath to say,
“‘Run, Ladies, for the Stile away!’
“Yet doubtless, with a warlike Grace,
“My hand was pointed to the Place.
“Were met by some rebellious Kine,
“Who, in their stubborn Pride and Scorn,
“With surly Hoof and threat'ning Horn
“Usurp'd the Path, and, as the Maids
“Drew near, and [would have] sought its Shades,
“[Ere] they could reach the guarding Wood,
“Some surly Beast their Way withstood.
“And hence the dismal Shriek that drew
“My Eyes, and asked my Action too;
“As Justness prompted; forth I ran
“Resolv'd to show myself a Man;
“And, plucking forth an oaken Bough,
“I ran like Guy to fight the Cow;
“And, like a valiant Champion, fixed
“Myself the Maids and Cows betwixt.
“And, tho' I had not breath to say,
“‘Run, Ladies, for the Stile away!’
“Yet doubtless, with a warlike Grace,
“My hand was pointed to the Place.
“The Ladies took me at my Word,
“And each flew lightly like a Bird.
“I now had time my thoughts t' arrange
“And should have liked my place to change;
“For now the Creatures seemed disposed
“For Battle, and in Order closed;
“And, tho' they halted, yet I found
“My feet upon precarious Ground;
“And yet, to turn me and retreat
“Was not alone to own Defeat,
“But to invite th' encouraged Foe
“To fell pursuit and overthrow.
“And each flew lightly like a Bird.
“I now had time my thoughts t' arrange
“And should have liked my place to change;
“For now the Creatures seemed disposed
“For Battle, and in Order closed;
“And, tho' they halted, yet I found
“My feet upon precarious Ground;
“And yet, to turn me and retreat
“Was not alone to own Defeat,
“But to invite th' encouraged Foe
“To fell pursuit and overthrow.
“The Ladies, who had pass'd the Stile,
“Looked on impatiently the while;
“And were amazed, for so they said,
“To see the horrid Cows afraid,
“And kept in coward fear by one
“Who had for them such Service done.
“Looked on impatiently the while;
“And were amazed, for so they said,
“To see the horrid Cows afraid,
“And kept in coward fear by one
“Who had for them such Service done.
“Which had the Victory, Man or Cow,
“Can never be determined now.
“For lo! some amazons appear'd,
“Resolv'd to milk the stubborn Herd;
“Who, as they now obedient grew,
“Left me my purpose to pursue—
“A purpose that I could not well
“Distinguish, nor can fairly tell.
473
“For lo! some amazons appear'd,
“Resolv'd to milk the stubborn Herd;
“Who, as they now obedient grew,
“Left me my purpose to pursue—
“A purpose that I could not well
“Distinguish, nor can fairly tell.
“The [quicker] Nymph with gracious Smile
“Received me safe beyond the Stile;
“Where I had time to feast my Eyes
“On paradise and prodigies—
“Charms, such as Nature once creates,
“Then breaks the Mould (the Lover states).
“But this, dear Joseph, was a Face
“I could not from my fancy chase;
“Was more than I had dreamed, was more
“Than Fancy drew for me before,
“And bade me my own Work adore.
“But let me not on Beauty dwell:
“The trace became indelible.” [OMITTED]
“Received me safe beyond the Stile;
“Where I had time to feast my Eyes
“On paradise and prodigies—
“Charms, such as Nature once creates,
“Then breaks the Mould (the Lover states).
“But this, dear Joseph, was a Face
“I could not from my fancy chase;
“Was more than I had dreamed, was more
“Than Fancy drew for me before,
“And bade me my own Work adore.
“But let me not on Beauty dwell:
“The trace became indelible.” [OMITTED]
[FRAGMENTS OF TALES OF THE HALL.]
“Are there not some things, B[rother], that will seem
“Like very Truth and yet like very dream;
“That we are ever at a Loss to find,
“Are they of fact or are they of the mind?” [OMITTED]
“Again a walk, dear R[ichard,] and so long?
“Would not M[atilda] tell you, it is wrong,
“That she so little of the Man behold,
“The Slave rebellious or the Lover cold?
“Where hast thou wandered?”—
“Like very Truth and yet like very dream;
“That we are ever at a Loss to find,
“Are they of fact or are they of the mind?” [OMITTED]
“Again a walk, dear R[ichard,] and so long?
“Would not M[atilda] tell you, it is wrong,
“That she so little of the Man behold,
“The Slave rebellious or the Lover cold?
“Where hast thou wandered?”—
“I describe but ill.
“When past the Park, I made for Depford Mill.
“Stopt by the Brook, I turned and slowly went
“One Mile, I think, upon a smooth Ascent.
“There, on that Hill, where clumps of Fir and pine
“So bound the Land that they may pass for thine,
“As Thy Plantations on the other Side
“Give to the Neighbours something of their Pride—
“There, as I stood and viewed the empty Hall
“And the small Church, remarked as very small,
“A sound, not ringing, but from bells a pair,
“Hanged between Turrets in the open Air,
“Called my Attention to the House; and then
“I saw there passing and thence coming Men. [OMITTED]
“Then first that Village wore a cheerful Air,
“Not like the noisy Concourse of its Fair;
“But I distinguished plainly, with my Glass,
“Another people thro' the Gardens pass.
“In fact, there seemed a joy diffused around,
“As if some long-lost blessing had been found;
“And I could judge by both their dress and air
“There went some pains to form that gentle pair.
“You will have Neighbours; nay, perhaps you know
“To whom that—Blessing, shall I say?—you owe.— [OMITTED]
“Nay, B[rother], I must leave
“The Place I love; but, going, I must grieve.”—
“True, my dear R[ichard]—but I ask reprieve;
“Speak gentle words, and you shall hear a Tale
“Of the new pair who came to Ashford Dale.” [OMITTED]
Small was their Garden, and they wished to grow
All that a Gardening Swain could set or sow;
And in that Soil the produce grew so tall
About the Path and Porch, the Door and Wall;
The Children crept the stately plants between,
And only Mary's snow-white Cap was seen—
When the low door was opened, and the Dame
From her small Parlor to her Garden came,
To see if John was coming from the Farm;
To hear the Village Scholars' glad Alarm,
And to behold the Bees, if clustering for the Swarm.
Such were the daily Cares in Mary's life,
The easiest Mother and the happiest Wife. [OMITTED]
“When past the Park, I made for Depford Mill.
“Stopt by the Brook, I turned and slowly went
“One Mile, I think, upon a smooth Ascent.
“There, on that Hill, where clumps of Fir and pine
“So bound the Land that they may pass for thine,
“As Thy Plantations on the other Side
“Give to the Neighbours something of their Pride—
“There, as I stood and viewed the empty Hall
“And the small Church, remarked as very small,
“A sound, not ringing, but from bells a pair,
“Hanged between Turrets in the open Air,
“Called my Attention to the House; and then
“I saw there passing and thence coming Men. [OMITTED]
474
“Not like the noisy Concourse of its Fair;
“But I distinguished plainly, with my Glass,
“Another people thro' the Gardens pass.
“In fact, there seemed a joy diffused around,
“As if some long-lost blessing had been found;
“And I could judge by both their dress and air
“There went some pains to form that gentle pair.
“You will have Neighbours; nay, perhaps you know
“To whom that—Blessing, shall I say?—you owe.— [OMITTED]
“Nay, B[rother], I must leave
“The Place I love; but, going, I must grieve.”—
“True, my dear R[ichard]—but I ask reprieve;
“Speak gentle words, and you shall hear a Tale
“Of the new pair who came to Ashford Dale.” [OMITTED]
Small was their Garden, and they wished to grow
All that a Gardening Swain could set or sow;
And in that Soil the produce grew so tall
About the Path and Porch, the Door and Wall;
The Children crept the stately plants between,
And only Mary's snow-white Cap was seen—
When the low door was opened, and the Dame
From her small Parlor to her Garden came,
To see if John was coming from the Farm;
To hear the Village Scholars' glad Alarm,
And to behold the Bees, if clustering for the Swarm.
Such were the daily Cares in Mary's life,
The easiest Mother and the happiest Wife. [OMITTED]
TRAGIC TALES, WHY?
“I have observed,” said Richard, “when I ask
“Of those around us, and your memory task
“For their Adventures and their Lives, what fate,
“How tragic most the Stories you relate.
“Is it that most are wretched, or have we
“The evil fate to live with Misery?”—
“Of those around us, and your memory task
“For their Adventures and their Lives, what fate,
“How tragic most the Stories you relate.
“Is it that most are wretched, or have we
“The evil fate to live with Misery?”—
“Not so perhaps, but Men of common Lives,
“Who live contented with themselves and Wives,
“Afford no Subject for the Muse than Mirth. [OMITTED]
“Their [lowly] comforts, or a day's delight,
“Do not afford [us] matter when we write;
“[Though] all the strange prodigious things they do
“Are such as move them and are tragic too.
“Amusements, pleasures, comforts, days of Joy,
“May a Man's Mind, but not his Muse, employ;
“Marriage and Births of Heirs are pleasant things,
“But seldom help a poet when he sings.
“A Day of Hunting, fishing, shooting, these—
“Music and Dancing, Cards and fiddles—please;
“And wealth acquired or wealth bequeathed impart,
“More than they ought, rejoicing to the Heart.
“But these, though Man might for his Comforts choose,
“Can give no Inspiration to his Muse.
“But, my dear Richard, when this transient Joy
“Some sudden Ills and dire Events destroy;
“When the fond wife [or] faithful husband [dies]—
“Fate unforseen!—when Wealth takes wings and [flies];
“When by Deceit a Maiden's peace is lost;
“When tender Love by cruel fate is crost;
“When groaning Poverty and fell Disease
“Upon the happy and the wealthy seize,
“And when on Man's soft Heart these Evils press:
“The awakened Poet paints the due Distress;
“Tells how it came, and presses on the Mind
“That we are Men, and of the suffering Kind.
“We own the grieving and opprest as Friends;
“The Mind enlarges as its Grief extends;
“And Grief that's painted true improves the Heart it rends.” [OMITTED]
“Who live contented with themselves and Wives,
“Afford no Subject for the Muse than Mirth. [OMITTED]
“Their [lowly] comforts, or a day's delight,
“Do not afford [us] matter when we write;
“[Though] all the strange prodigious things they do
“Are such as move them and are tragic too.
475
“May a Man's Mind, but not his Muse, employ;
“Marriage and Births of Heirs are pleasant things,
“But seldom help a poet when he sings.
“A Day of Hunting, fishing, shooting, these—
“Music and Dancing, Cards and fiddles—please;
“And wealth acquired or wealth bequeathed impart,
“More than they ought, rejoicing to the Heart.
“But these, though Man might for his Comforts choose,
“Can give no Inspiration to his Muse.
“But, my dear Richard, when this transient Joy
“Some sudden Ills and dire Events destroy;
“When the fond wife [or] faithful husband [dies]—
“Fate unforseen!—when Wealth takes wings and [flies];
“When by Deceit a Maiden's peace is lost;
“When tender Love by cruel fate is crost;
“When groaning Poverty and fell Disease
“Upon the happy and the wealthy seize,
“And when on Man's soft Heart these Evils press:
“The awakened Poet paints the due Distress;
“Tells how it came, and presses on the Mind
“That we are Men, and of the suffering Kind.
“We own the grieving and opprest as Friends;
“The Mind enlarges as its Grief extends;
“And Grief that's painted true improves the Heart it rends.” [OMITTED]
[ROBERT AND CATHARINE.]
[OMITTED] Time and mild Laws to Robert freedom gave;And now the Man resolv'd his Cash to save,
If Cash were his; and Catharine felt delight
To see her Cousin in a decent plight;
And now, contracted, they resolved for Life
To join their Fortune to be Man and Wife.
With more than wonted Courage Catharine sought
For Robert's Pardon, and at length she brought.
Henceforth a mighty Change in him began:
He was [a] sober, saving, serious Man;
He lived to save, and had a friend to prove
What pains he took to win his Uncle's Love;
Till the old Man for Fact the Tales received,
And all that once opposed Belief believed.
The Nephew now increased his humble Store,
And saved as fondly as he spent before;
Yet would he purchase [savoury] things and sweet
That his dear Uncle would vouchsafe to eat.
“Some seaman gave them”—that was what he told,
And not that some confectioner had sold.
476
And he perhaps had sold the Sweets again.
But he was grateful, and began to speak
Of Women harshly: they were vain and weak,
Not skill'd to manage in the great Concern
Of saving Cash, and not disposed to learn.
This Catharine heard not or, if aught she heard,
Of Man's superior Mind she nothing feared;
But to her Uncle paid the Service due,
Nor thought of Giving, but was kind and true.
She now conceived their wish they might declare,
But Robert dared not, begg'd her not to dare!
She saw their dear good Kinsman every day
Wasting in Flesh, and soon must waste away;
And then would all be Well! well paid for their Delay!
She, gentle Girl, though loth, yet acquiesc'd;
It pleased her Cousin, and it might be best.
Yet, as he often came and talk'd at Ease,
She judged it right; but, “Cousin, as you please!”
And now between them and their Wishes rose
The old Man's Life—that only—to oppose
The purposed Union; and that Bar between
Was now removed, as we remove a Screen
From what we would not see, or would should not be seen.
Death was announced; and buried was the Dead,
Relations summon'd, and the Will was read—
Brief but yet clear—Some trifles to some few;
To the dear Niece—in fact, a Trifle too. [OMITTED]
Look at that Cottage and its only door:
'Tis poor without, within exceeding poor.
Now cast your Eye to yonder splendid scene;
Contrasted see the Prospects proud and mean!
In that proud Seat dwells Robert; in yon Cot;
Catharine sits, knitting.—Such the Cousins' lot.
DAVID JONES.
Shall I not bid to David Jones adieu—
He who had sail'd with [Anson's] hardy Crew;
He who had been about the world and found,
On his [protested] word, it was not round!
“'Tis all like England, every earthly Spot;
“The Days are short and long, and cold and hot.
“So they are here! Of all that I could trace
“Are, just like us, a little darker race;
“But striving all, by measures foul and fair,
“To get our Nails, for Nails are many there.
“They tipple grog; they love their dance and feasts,
“And are taboo'd and terrified by priests.
“Civil enough, when nothing thwarts their Will,
“But very Devils when you use them ill;
“Vain like ourselves and very fond of praise,
“Proud of their lands, and [their peculiar ways].
“They have no money, but they change their Hams
“And the whole Pig for [OMITTED] and yams;
“There are some honest, as I may believe;
“But all I saw have a delight to thieve.
“So should we feel—at least 'tis my Belief—
“If we had not our Law to hang a Thief.
“They go to War like us, their Queens and Kings—
“And, just like us, for mighty trivial things.
“There is a difference in our Ways[, 'tis true];
“But Men are Men and Women Women too.
“As far as I could see into their Hearts,
“They act, as we do, well and ill their parts;
“And we must think, the more of [man] we see,
“That he is not the thing he ought to be;
“But, go where'er you will, you'll ever find
“Man is a selfish and a sinful kind.”
He who had sail'd with [Anson's] hardy Crew;
He who had been about the world and found,
On his [protested] word, it was not round!
“'Tis all like England, every earthly Spot;
“The Days are short and long, and cold and hot.
“So they are here! Of all that I could trace
“Are, just like us, a little darker race;
“But striving all, by measures foul and fair,
“To get our Nails, for Nails are many there.
“They tipple grog; they love their dance and feasts,
477
“Civil enough, when nothing thwarts their Will,
“But very Devils when you use them ill;
“Vain like ourselves and very fond of praise,
“Proud of their lands, and [their peculiar ways].
“They have no money, but they change their Hams
“And the whole Pig for [OMITTED] and yams;
“There are some honest, as I may believe;
“But all I saw have a delight to thieve.
“So should we feel—at least 'tis my Belief—
“If we had not our Law to hang a Thief.
“They go to War like us, their Queens and Kings—
“And, just like us, for mighty trivial things.
“There is a difference in our Ways[, 'tis true];
“But Men are Men and Women Women too.
“As far as I could see into their Hearts,
“They act, as we do, well and ill their parts;
“And we must think, the more of [man] we see,
“That he is not the thing he ought to be;
“But, go where'er you will, you'll ever find
“Man is a selfish and a sinful kind.”
So David thought, when he was stout and stern
And had his Pittance by his toil to earn.
On my return a pensioned man I found,
For a [lost leg] and many a grievous Wound.
Grateful he was and good, and loved to sing,
“Rule, Rule Brittania!” and “God save the King!” [OMITTED]
And had his Pittance by his toil to earn.
On my return a pensioned man I found,
For a [lost leg] and many a grievous Wound.
Grateful he was and good, and loved to sing,
“Rule, Rule Brittania!” and “God save the King!” [OMITTED]
THE DESERTED FAMILY.
It is the Evening of the brightest Day
The Year can boast; it is the last of May.
On my right Hand the Ocean fills the Eye,
Far on the East there, till it meets the Sky;
Westward, a Range of lofty Hills is seen;
A Farm's large Lands and Mansion lie between—
A lonely Mansion. From the nearest Town
The Evening Bell comes faintly floating down;
While the vast Ocean rolls its Waves so near,
The fallen Billow strikes the listless Ear.
Before the Mansion, and extended wide,
A level Green appears on either Side;
Which, though so lovely it must seem to all,
Some would a Lawn and some a Meadow call:
The Year can boast; it is the last of May.
On my right Hand the Ocean fills the Eye,
Far on the East there, till it meets the Sky;
Westward, a Range of lofty Hills is seen;
A Farm's large Lands and Mansion lie between—
A lonely Mansion. From the nearest Town
The Evening Bell comes faintly floating down;
While the vast Ocean rolls its Waves so near,
The fallen Billow strikes the listless Ear.
Before the Mansion, and extended wide,
A level Green appears on either Side;
Which, though so lovely it must seem to all,
Some would a Lawn and some a Meadow call:
On that same Green and gazing at the tide
A Lady stands, her Children at her Side;
Save yon light Boy, who tries with restless Zeal
His Mother's Spirit of its Wounds to heal,
And make her love that life which 'tis his Joy to feel;
When the sad Lady some poor Effort makes,
And a faint Smile repays the Pains he takes.
478
Save yon light Boy, who tries with restless Zeal
His Mother's Spirit of its Wounds to heal,
And make her love that life which 'tis his Joy to feel;
When the sad Lady some poor Effort makes,
And a faint Smile repays the Pains he takes.
To these comes One, and see! he comes with speed
And cries, “No further on your Way proceed!
“No further, dear Matilda, must you go,
“To muse in secret and indulge your Woe.
“Pride of my Life, but Grief as well as Pride,
“Why will you thus in Wretchedness abide?
“Why in these Scenes of Solitude delight?
“It may be soothing, but cannot be right.”
And cries, “No further on your Way proceed!
“No further, dear Matilda, must you go,
“To muse in secret and indulge your Woe.
“Pride of my Life, but Grief as well as Pride,
“Why will you thus in Wretchedness abide?
“Why in these Scenes of Solitude delight?
“It may be soothing, but cannot be right.”
Thus spake the Squire; for he was vext to find
His Sister sad; for all he meant was kind.
Yet this he added—“I will not believe
“In thy Religion, if I see thee grieve.
“Of that Religion hast thou not enough
“To baffle Grief and make thee Sorrow-Proof?
“Hast thou not said, that all Mankind endure
“Finds in their Faith a Comfort or a Cure?
“I know thy Prayers are offered day by day,
“And yet thy Griefs will obstinately stay,
“To war with Grace—Come, take a chearful View
“Of Life, and think its Pleasures are thy due!
His Sister sad; for all he meant was kind.
Yet this he added—“I will not believe
“In thy Religion, if I see thee grieve.
“Of that Religion hast thou not enough
“To baffle Grief and make thee Sorrow-Proof?
“Hast thou not said, that all Mankind endure
“Finds in their Faith a Comfort or a Cure?
“I know thy Prayers are offered day by day,
“And yet thy Griefs will obstinately stay,
“To war with Grace—Come, take a chearful View
“Of Life, and think its Pleasures are thy due!
“Why mourn an Husband, were he good, so long?
“But One like thine! 'Tis desperately wrong!
“One who deceived thee, whom we should despise
“A Wretch, all Falsehood, Treachery and Disguise!
“But One like thine! 'Tis desperately wrong!
“One who deceived thee, whom we should despise
“A Wretch, all Falsehood, Treachery and Disguise!
“Nay, my Matilda, let me not offend:
“Would'st have thy Brother be a Villain's Friend?
“A vile, false, flattering Scoundrel—nay, but how
“Can you thus grieve? I'm speaking kindly now—
“A base deceiver, studied to betray;
“But, come! he's gone, and I've no more to say.”
“Would'st have thy Brother be a Villain's Friend?
“A vile, false, flattering Scoundrel—nay, but how
“Can you thus grieve? I'm speaking kindly now—
“A base deceiver, studied to betray;
“But, come! he's gone, and I've no more to say.”
Pensive and silent, passive in her Woe,
She went with him, though indisposed to go;
And to the loud Reproof and threat'ning tone
She school'd her Heart, and said, “I'll grieve alone.”
She went with him, though indisposed to go;
And to the loud Reproof and threat'ning tone
She school'd her Heart, and said, “I'll grieve alone.”
When near their Home, again the Brother cried:
“Come let thy Griefs be still, thine Eyes be dried!
“Here Captain Gale, the May'r too from the Town,
“And both their Wives and Children, are come down;
“Do let them see, an English Woman's heart
“Forbears to take a foreign Scoundrel's Part!”
“Come let thy Griefs be still, thine Eyes be dried!
“Here Captain Gale, the May'r too from the Town,
“And both their Wives and Children, are come down;
“Do let them see, an English Woman's heart
“Forbears to take a foreign Scoundrel's Part!”
Patient and firm, the gentle Dame obey'd.
“He was not foreign,” that alone she said,
And that he heard not.—Then the hours were spent
In small discourse and petty merriment—
Such as the Men with little Minds admire;
Such as became the May'r and pleased the Squire;
Such as the Mayor's and the Captain's Wife
Could best display and picture to the Life—
All the small Scandal of a Place so small
That we might wonder whence arose it all;
With Borough-Business of such high Concern,
That poor Matilda was compell'd to learn
What Honours fell upon their Heads, and how
The worthy Burgess took the Member's Bow,
And how returned, and what a joyous Look
His face discover'd, when their hands they shook.
“He was not foreign,” that alone she said,
And that he heard not.—Then the hours were spent
In small discourse and petty merriment—
Such as the Men with little Minds admire;
Such as became the May'r and pleased the Squire;
Such as the Mayor's and the Captain's Wife
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All the small Scandal of a Place so small
That we might wonder whence arose it all;
With Borough-Business of such high Concern,
That poor Matilda was compell'd to learn
What Honours fell upon their Heads, and how
The worthy Burgess took the Member's Bow,
And how returned, and what a joyous Look
His face discover'd, when their hands they shook.
The Brother, grieving for the patient Grief
Of the fair Mourner, strove for her Relief;
And, finding Wrath disturbed her gentle Breast,
In gentler Tone his Love and Care exprest.
Of the fair Mourner, strove for her Relief;
And, finding Wrath disturbed her gentle Breast,
In gentler Tone his Love and Care exprest.
“'Tis now five Years, and this about the day,
“Since the Bellair was wreckt in Liddel-Bay;
“When Fredrick came a Sufferer to our Home,
“As for our Sins destroying Angels come.
“He came alone, in Misery, to our Care;
“Then fled the Home and left the Misery there.
“Since the Bellair was wreckt in Liddel-Bay;
“When Fredrick came a Sufferer to our Home,
“As for our Sins destroying Angels come.
“He came alone, in Misery, to our Care;
“Then fled the Home and left the Misery there.
“Nay, Sister, be not thus to Anguish wrought;
“I only try to think—what can be thought.
“I only try to think—what can be thought.
“All seemed so fair: he no Pretences made,
“Was poor, and owned it—that could not persuade;
“His Temper gay, his Mind without a Cloud,
“Of Honour and his Country justly proud.
“No Fear, no Mask—this all must be allow'd;
“And yet, he left us.—Sister, I must go,
“To seek this Angel-Dæmon, Friend and Foe.”
“Was poor, and owned it—that could not persuade;
“His Temper gay, his Mind without a Cloud,
“Of Honour and his Country justly proud.
“No Fear, no Mask—this all must be allow'd;
“And yet, he left us.—Sister, I must go,
“To seek this Angel-Dæmon, Friend and Foe.”
The gentle Mourner for a while appeared
Absorbed in thought; her Brother's Words she feared,
His Love she owned; she thanked him from her Soul,
But begged he would these angry thoughts controul.
“You must not meet,” she said, with deep-drawn Sigh
And flowing Tears—“you must not, nor must I.”
Absorbed in thought; her Brother's Words she feared,
His Love she owned; she thanked him from her Soul,
But begged he would these angry thoughts controul.
“You must not meet,” she said, with deep-drawn Sigh
And flowing Tears—“you must not, nor must I.”
There was a Pause; but Richard could not hide
The rising Anger or the wounded Pride.
The rising Anger or the wounded Pride.
“Ask me not, Sister, while Your Wrong is mine,
“To bear a Blow and like a Dog to whine!
“But, if I could my Sense of Wrong subdue,
“I must revenge an Insult offered you.
“Let him for all account, for all repent,
“For all atone; and then I may relent.
“Him I must seek; for never Man of Sense
“Can live in all this horrible Suspense.
“Him must I seek.”—
“To bear a Blow and like a Dog to whine!
“But, if I could my Sense of Wrong subdue,
“I must revenge an Insult offered you.
“Let him for all account, for all repent,
“For all atone; and then I may relent.
“Him I must seek; for never Man of Sense
“Can live in all this horrible Suspense.
“Him must I seek.”—
“Nay Richard, Brother, Friend!
“Grieve not thy Sister, whom thou wouldst defend!
“War not with Death or Sorrow; what I crave
“Is Peace on Earth. O war not with the Grave!
“Let all that Death can touch untroubled lie,
“And who would strive with that which cannot die!”—
“Grieve not thy Sister, whom thou wouldst defend!
“War not with Death or Sorrow; what I crave
“Is Peace on Earth. O war not with the Grave!
“Let all that Death can touch untroubled lie,
“And who would strive with that which cannot die!”—
“Is he no more?”—
“'Tis painful to reply.
“To us he is; and let the Subject die!
“For, if he lives, he suffers, and he feels
“The Pangs that Death concludes—at least conceals.”
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“For, if he lives, he suffers, and he feels
“The Pangs that Death concludes—at least conceals.”
“I know not this; or, grant repentance true,
“I still am wronged[, and] Vengeance is my due.
“You may forgive your Husband, if you can;
“But I must wreak my Vengeance on the Man.
“You had refused him; but for my Request
“That thought disturbs me. Hence I cannot rest.
“True, he was handsome; all that Women love
“In Air and Manner, all that Men approve
“In Sense and Courage; yet, before he fled,
“The better Spirit of the Man was dead.
“You saw he grieved and moped alone about;
“The Date of Virtue, Love and Peace was out;
“He for a Man of Worth awhile was known,
“And then the Devil came to claim his own.”—
“No more, my Brother! I must now prepare
“The one sad Secret of my Soul to share;
“To make my mystic Fortune understood,
“And keep thee free from peril and from blood.—
“But I must bind thee, Richard; thou must keep
“The Peace, and let thy strong Resentment sleep!”
“I still am wronged[, and] Vengeance is my due.
“You may forgive your Husband, if you can;
“But I must wreak my Vengeance on the Man.
“You had refused him; but for my Request
“That thought disturbs me. Hence I cannot rest.
“True, he was handsome; all that Women love
“In Air and Manner, all that Men approve
“In Sense and Courage; yet, before he fled,
“The better Spirit of the Man was dead.
“You saw he grieved and moped alone about;
“The Date of Virtue, Love and Peace was out;
“He for a Man of Worth awhile was known,
“And then the Devil came to claim his own.”—
“No more, my Brother! I must now prepare
“The one sad Secret of my Soul to share;
“To make my mystic Fortune understood,
“And keep thee free from peril and from blood.—
“But I must bind thee, Richard; thou must keep
“The Peace, and let thy strong Resentment sleep!”
He gave Assent.
“To know my present State,
“I must a Portion of the past relate.
“Remember you, before my Fred'rick's flight,
“How anxious grew that Spirit once so light?
“You laught at this—”
“I must a Portion of the past relate.
“Remember you, before my Fred'rick's flight,
“How anxious grew that Spirit once so light?
“You laught at this—”
“'Tis true; for I supposed
“The Man was hypped, and Wine and Mirth proposed;
“For I had some Misgiving, and could trace
“The Marks that Mystics term the Signs of Grace.
“Then, was it so? Alas! ere yet he fled,
“I saw that something in his Mind had bred.
“But yet I spoke not, thinking every Day
“Life's common Cares would wear the gloom away;
“Indeed, I jested; for your Husband's Style
“And his sad look would often cause a smile.
“But now proceed!”—
“The Man was hypped, and Wine and Mirth proposed;
“For I had some Misgiving, and could trace
“The Marks that Mystics term the Signs of Grace.
“Then, was it so? Alas! ere yet he fled,
“I saw that something in his Mind had bred.
“But yet I spoke not, thinking every Day
“Life's common Cares would wear the gloom away;
“Indeed, I jested; for your Husband's Style
“And his sad look would often cause a smile.
“But now proceed!”—
“You recollect the Praise
“You gave that Spirit in our early Days.
“From a light Heart we said those Spirits rise;
“'Tis Virtue sparkles in those brilliant Eyes;
“That Mirth arises from the Soul's Content,
“And all is Gay, for all is innocent.
“But oh, my Brother! I had Cause to fear
“That all within that Heart did not appear;
“Frank as he ever seemed, he was not now sincere.
“His Sleep was troubled; in the solemn Night
“He woke in Terror and demanded Light.
“He then some Guilt with fearful Haste Avow'd,
“And bade his Silent Wife not speak so loud.
“Yet was he cautious, and his Words were weighed
“With fretful Care, like One who seems afraid
“By his own speech his Crime should be betrayed.
“Temperate before, he now would often fly
“To Wine for Aid, that treacherous Ally
“That undermines the Strength it should supply;
“That, like to Money borrowed in Distress,
“Seems to increase our Power, but makes it less.—
“All this I saw, not hopeless; I believed
“A Man, awakened, for his Error grieved;
“His seemed to me the Salutary Storm
“That shakes the Soul it will at Length reform.
“You gave that Spirit in our early Days.
“From a light Heart we said those Spirits rise;
“'Tis Virtue sparkles in those brilliant Eyes;
“That Mirth arises from the Soul's Content,
“And all is Gay, for all is innocent.
“But oh, my Brother! I had Cause to fear
“That all within that Heart did not appear;
“Frank as he ever seemed, he was not now sincere.
“His Sleep was troubled; in the solemn Night
“He woke in Terror and demanded Light.
“He then some Guilt with fearful Haste Avow'd,
“And bade his Silent Wife not speak so loud.
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“With fretful Care, like One who seems afraid
“By his own speech his Crime should be betrayed.
“Temperate before, he now would often fly
“To Wine for Aid, that treacherous Ally
“That undermines the Strength it should supply;
“That, like to Money borrowed in Distress,
“Seems to increase our Power, but makes it less.—
“All this I saw, not hopeless; I believed
“A Man, awakened, for his Error grieved;
“His seemed to me the Salutary Storm
“That shakes the Soul it will at Length reform.
“I spoke in Love and Pity, ‘Let us Pray!’
“Wherefore he cried, and turned Alarmed away.
“This I had known: the new Awaken'd hide
“Their Fears from Man—it is false Nature's Pride—
“But Hope still whispered, ‘Ease will follow Pain;
“‘The broken Heart will soon be healed again.
“Nor knew I yet there was the Part unsound;
“Untouched, unseen, the ever rankling Wound!
“Wherefore he cried, and turned Alarmed away.
“This I had known: the new Awaken'd hide
“Their Fears from Man—it is false Nature's Pride—
“But Hope still whispered, ‘Ease will follow Pain;
“‘The broken Heart will soon be healed again.
“Nor knew I yet there was the Part unsound;
“Untouched, unseen, the ever rankling Wound!
“Yet more distressed he grew; and then I cried,
“‘Go to the Priest and take him for thy Guide!’
“But Frederick's Grief was not the transient Rage
“Of Clouds that Winds collect and Rains asswage;
“But still more Dark the mental Prospect grew,
“And weary Hope could not her smile renew.
“‘Go to the Priest and take him for thy Guide!’
“But Frederick's Grief was not the transient Rage
“Of Clouds that Winds collect and Rains asswage;
“But still more Dark the mental Prospect grew,
“And weary Hope could not her smile renew.
“Alas! I erred; I knew not that the Sin
“Of my poor Frederick rankled yet within,
“Nor granted Rest; but all his Crime had gained,
“What Sin had purchased, that with him remained.
“I saw his Self-reproach, and I could View
“Through all his Care his Self-denial too.
“He wants, I said, some meek religious Guide,
“And is forbid to seek him by his Pride.
“In fact, my Husband had ere this address'd
“A meek good priest; he had in part confest
“His bosom's wound, but had in part supprest.
“Of my poor Frederick rankled yet within,
“Nor granted Rest; but all his Crime had gained,
“What Sin had purchased, that with him remained.
“I saw his Self-reproach, and I could View
“Through all his Care his Self-denial too.
“He wants, I said, some meek religious Guide,
“And is forbid to seek him by his Pride.
“In fact, my Husband had ere this address'd
“A meek good priest; he had in part confest
“His bosom's wound, but had in part supprest.
“I urged my Love.—‘Thy Love shall I requite
“‘With endless Suffering?’ I maintain'd my Right
“To what he said—the Right that Martyrs have
“To lingering Torture and an early Grave.
“‘With endless Suffering?’ I maintain'd my Right
“To what he said—the Right that Martyrs have
“To lingering Torture and an early Grave.
“‘Would I had yet,’ he said, ‘myself restrained,
“‘And not this knowledge with this Evil gained!
“‘Go to the Priest, thou said'st; and I receive
“‘My Sight of Sin; I tremble and believe.
“‘Why should I go to hear that warning Voice?
“‘Let them attend who hearing can rejoice;
“‘Let them exult who feel that all is well!
“‘Why talk of Heavens to a Child of Hell?
“‘Thy tender Sins are nipt and gently die
“‘Without a Pang, like Girls in Infancy;
“‘My Crimes are strong, and 'tis a dreadful Part
“‘At once to tear them from the wounded heart.
“‘Nor that the worst! I know the mighty Cost
“‘Of my dear Sin: or that or Heav'n is lost—
“‘And Heav'n is lost. That Sin, if Sin it be,
“‘Clings to the Soul, that never can be free;
“‘I cannot lose thee, Love, and thou art Sin to me.’”
“‘And not this knowledge with this Evil gained!
“‘Go to the Priest, thou said'st; and I receive
“‘My Sight of Sin; I tremble and believe.
“‘Why should I go to hear that warning Voice?
“‘Let them attend who hearing can rejoice;
“‘Let them exult who feel that all is well!
“‘Why talk of Heavens to a Child of Hell?
“‘Thy tender Sins are nipt and gently die
“‘Without a Pang, like Girls in Infancy;
“‘My Crimes are strong, and 'tis a dreadful Part
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“‘Nor that the worst! I know the mighty Cost
“‘Of my dear Sin: or that or Heav'n is lost—
“‘And Heav'n is lost. That Sin, if Sin it be,
“‘Clings to the Soul, that never can be free;
“‘I cannot lose thee, Love, and thou art Sin to me.’”
“Oh, my poor Sister,” Richard said, in Haste;
“What a strange Fancy has the Man embraced!
“He wished to please thee and thy Way to take,
“And lost his Reason for Matilda's sake.
“Puzzled and vext, he heard, he pray'd, he read,
“Love in his Heart and Frenzy in his Head;
“Led, as I doubt not Mystics always lead,
“Their Flocks; no Wonder Frenzy should succeed!
“But, when so sound a Mind is wrecked, we feel
“Pity and Wrath and Curse the mad'ning Zeal.
“Strange that a Man, from all Delusion free
“And all Conceit, should not the Folly see!”—
“What a strange Fancy has the Man embraced!
“He wished to please thee and thy Way to take,
“And lost his Reason for Matilda's sake.
“Puzzled and vext, he heard, he pray'd, he read,
“Love in his Heart and Frenzy in his Head;
“Led, as I doubt not Mystics always lead,
“Their Flocks; no Wonder Frenzy should succeed!
“But, when so sound a Mind is wrecked, we feel
“Pity and Wrath and Curse the mad'ning Zeal.
“Strange that a Man, from all Delusion free
“And all Conceit, should not the Folly see!”—
“No, my dear Richard; Facts I now must state
“A different Cause assign and different Fate
“Describe: 'tis true that he was sore afraid
“And, pierced by Sorrows, to his Maker prayed;
“True that, by Guilt as well as Grief oppressed,
“He asked for Mercy as he longed for Rest;
“But his true Reason was an inward Sense
“And a deep feeling of his own Offence.
“A different Cause assign and different Fate
“Describe: 'tis true that he was sore afraid
“And, pierced by Sorrows, to his Maker prayed;
“True that, by Guilt as well as Grief oppressed,
“He asked for Mercy as he longed for Rest;
“But his true Reason was an inward Sense
“And a deep feeling of his own Offence.
“See, my dear Brother, when his restless Mind
“Urged him to leave us, what he left behind.
“Thus wrote th' unhappy Man before he fled;
“Read thou, and judge my feelings as I read!
“Then will you learn why thus, from day to day,
“Hopeless I grieve and weep my Hours away.
“My Boy afflicts me, when he dares not ask,
“Where is he gone, and sees I wear a Mask.
“He reads my Looks; he saddens at my Sigh,
“And fears alike my Silence and Reply.
“My Girl, yet younger, wonders at my Woes
“And seems to question whence the Grief arose.
“The very Infant takes a solemn tone
“Of silent woe [nor] lets me grieve alone.
“But why is Sorrow wordy? Now receive
“What he relates, nor wonder that I grieve.”—
“Urged him to leave us, what he left behind.
“Thus wrote th' unhappy Man before he fled;
“Read thou, and judge my feelings as I read!
“Then will you learn why thus, from day to day,
“Hopeless I grieve and weep my Hours away.
“My Boy afflicts me, when he dares not ask,
“Where is he gone, and sees I wear a Mask.
“He reads my Looks; he saddens at my Sigh,
“And fears alike my Silence and Reply.
“My Girl, yet younger, wonders at my Woes
“And seems to question whence the Grief arose.
“The very Infant takes a solemn tone
“Of silent woe [nor] lets me grieve alone.
“But why is Sorrow wordy? Now receive
“What he relates, nor wonder that I grieve.”—
“Bear Witness, Heav'n and all the Powers above,
“Ye who in boundless, endless Glory dwell:
“It is with breaking Heart I speak of Love,
“For I must bid to Love and Hope farewell.
“Ye who in boundless, endless Glory dwell:
“It is with breaking Heart I speak of Love,
“For I must bid to Love and Hope farewell.
“I came to thee, when thou wert all content,
“Loving and loved, a Creature half-divine;
“I came, a Robber for thy Misery sent,
“Whilst thou wert anxious in removing mine.
“Loving and loved, a Creature half-divine;
“I came, a Robber for thy Misery sent,
“Whilst thou wert anxious in removing mine.
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“On a Sick-bed, attended, soothed, caressed,
“Healed of my Wounds, but smitten in my heart—
“‘And must we part?’ were Words my Love exprest;
“Some listening Daemon eccho'd: ‘Must you part?
“Healed of my Wounds, but smitten in my heart—
“‘And must we part?’ were Words my Love exprest;
“Some listening Daemon eccho'd: ‘Must you part?
“‘Art thou not dead to all the World beside,
“‘Save these, the kind Preservers of thy Life?
“‘Can'st thou not ask that Angel for thy Bride,
“‘And quit the Woman who is now thy Wife?
“‘Save these, the kind Preservers of thy Life?
“‘Can'st thou not ask that Angel for thy Bride,
“‘And quit the Woman who is now thy Wife?
“‘'Tis a sad Truth; but Truth may be denied.
“‘Who would not Strive this matchless Maid to Win?
“‘Is it a Sin to be to Truth allied;
“‘Or, if it be, who could escape the sin?’
“‘Who would not Strive this matchless Maid to Win?
“‘Is it a Sin to be to Truth allied;
“‘Or, if it be, who could escape the sin?’
“Wretch that I am, to wear a vile disguise
“With Virtue, Truth and Piety in View!
“My Words, my Thoughts, my very looks were Lyes;
“My Vow alone and my fond Love were true.
“With Virtue, Truth and Piety in View!
“My Words, my Thoughts, my very looks were Lyes;
“My Vow alone and my fond Love were true.
“Why hast thou shown me that I went astray;
“Why tell What Sin the World's Redeemer Cost?
“I heard and trembled, forced myself to pray,
“Pray'd for Conviction, was convinced—and lost.
“Why tell What Sin the World's Redeemer Cost?
“I heard and trembled, forced myself to pray,
“Pray'd for Conviction, was convinced—and lost.
“Chearful and Gay my Years of Unbelief;
“They fled, and now a sad Reverse I see:
“Like Judas I, or like the dying Thief,
“But not the One who said, ‘Remember Me!’
“They fled, and now a sad Reverse I see:
“Like Judas I, or like the dying Thief,
“But not the One who said, ‘Remember Me!’
“I go, Matilda, for my Peace is gone;
“Nor would thy Heart a Lawless Love allow.
“I dare not die; but must a Wretch live on,
“And Life once blest must be my Torment now.
“Nor would thy Heart a Lawless Love allow.
“I dare not die; but must a Wretch live on,
“And Life once blest must be my Torment now.
“Oh! when convinced that Jesus died for man,
“For Sinners Suffered on th' accursed Tree,
“A dreadful Choice to shake my Soul began—
“Loss of the Soul's best Hope or loss of thee.
“For Sinners Suffered on th' accursed Tree,
“A dreadful Choice to shake my Soul began—
“Loss of the Soul's best Hope or loss of thee.
“I said, as Cain when Banished said before:
“'Tis more than I can bear, for what can I?
“From thee 'tis Death to part, from Heav'n is more;
“'Tis worse than Death to that which cannot die.
“'Tis more than I can bear, for what can I?
“From thee 'tis Death to part, from Heav'n is more;
“'Tis worse than Death to that which cannot die.
“A vain, weak Boy, I took the offered Hand
“Of One who with it her poor Pittance gave;
“Then fled to Sea, and wrecked upon your Land,
“To live their Bane who snatch'd me from the Grave.
“Of One who with it her poor Pittance gave;
“Then fled to Sea, and wrecked upon your Land,
“To live their Bane who snatch'd me from the Grave.
“And yet, to leave thee! leave that rosy Boy,
“A Life of Toil and Penury to share!
“To quit all worldly Good, all earthly Joy—
“It is too hard, and more than I can bear.
“A Life of Toil and Penury to share!
“To quit all worldly Good, all earthly Joy—
“It is too hard, and more than I can bear.
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“For none beside thee will I ever live—
“For thee I must not, though so fond and true;
“But must to Heav'ns high Will my Being Give,
“And pray for Strength to bid the World adieu.”
The Brother read; it grieved him at his heart,
“For thee I must not, though so fond and true;
“But must to Heav'ns high Will my Being Give,
“And pray for Strength to bid the World adieu.”
And Pity softly questioned, “Must they part?”
“They must,” more calm in reasoning, he replied,
“And I remain her sole Support and Guide.
“I loved to hear him, nay I loved to speak
“Of Men religious as the Crazed and Weak;
“And weak they were, but foolish Men will bring
“When Sinners judge, Disgrace on everything.
“Religion's Self our Rashness dar'd condemn,
“Because like Folly it appeared in them.
“But, if an Actor plays the King amiss,
“Shall I the Monarch in the Mimic hiss?
“The thing itself is holy just and good,
“When duly sought and justly understood;
“But, when such weak and vain Expounders try
“To force my Faith, the more resisting I.
“And many a Laugh had we, not all confined
“To those Expounders, though for them designed;
“Cool and contemptuous we the Man survey'd,
“And smil'd at Prayer, because a Bigot prayed.
“I see it now—and he, unhappy! saw
“The Aweful Truth, and he abides in Awe!—
“Me too this Lesson shall to thought restore;
“I may offend, but will deride no more.
“Yet hope, Matilda! thy pure Bosom feels
“No Pains but those which thy Devotion heals;
“Time and thy Duties will their Balm afford,
“The Works of God His Wonders and His Word.
“If thou thy Peace, and I my Pardon, gain,
“Then shall this Suffering not be lent in vain.”
Years pass'd; the School-days of the Boy were come,
And now the happier Girls are schooled at Home.
The Widowed Mother her sad Part sustained;
She still a Widow in her Heart remained;
Nor in her State repined nor of her State complain'd.
Sometimes her pensive Spirit took the Way
To the lone Beach, where best she loved to stray.
There was a chosen Place that she would seek—
A rare Indulgence not of ev'ry Week;
But, at some Seasons, she, with Heart oppressed,
Prayed Grief away and then returned at rest.
This Place she loved, where, far as Eye could reach,
There seemed a boundless Length of peb'ly beach.
She loved the deep green hollow Lane, where grow
The Ferns that flourish o'er the Rill below;
In the small Course the limpid Waters run
And feed the Herbs that never feel the Sun.
She loved the still broad Lake, that in the Night
Of the full Moon reflected glorious light;
And every brilliant Star appeared to glow
With softened Lustre in the Lake below.
Nor less she loved the deep and solemn Shade,
By Antient Oaks of mighty Stature made;
Yet in their Strength and Glory that had Cast
Their welcome Shade on Generations past,
And to the aged and to the Young shall prove
The Ease of Labour and the Walk of Love.
Such Scenes had Beauty; but, when none appeared
Some accidental Good the Place endeared.
There Love had led them in some chearful Day,
That past in Ease and blameless Mirth away;
When, as their Children gambol'd in their View,
Some happy Presage from their Sport they drew.
Still to these Scenes, by fond Remembrance led,
She turn'd, and there her softest Tears were shed.
There heavenly Hope her cheering Visit paid,
And there with Faith and fervent Zeal she prayed.
And now the happier Girls are schooled at Home.
The Widowed Mother her sad Part sustained;
She still a Widow in her Heart remained;
Nor in her State repined nor of her State complain'd.
Sometimes her pensive Spirit took the Way
To the lone Beach, where best she loved to stray.
There was a chosen Place that she would seek—
A rare Indulgence not of ev'ry Week;
But, at some Seasons, she, with Heart oppressed,
Prayed Grief away and then returned at rest.
This Place she loved, where, far as Eye could reach,
There seemed a boundless Length of peb'ly beach.
She loved the deep green hollow Lane, where grow
The Ferns that flourish o'er the Rill below;
In the small Course the limpid Waters run
And feed the Herbs that never feel the Sun.
485
Of the full Moon reflected glorious light;
And every brilliant Star appeared to glow
With softened Lustre in the Lake below.
Nor less she loved the deep and solemn Shade,
By Antient Oaks of mighty Stature made;
Yet in their Strength and Glory that had Cast
Their welcome Shade on Generations past,
And to the aged and to the Young shall prove
The Ease of Labour and the Walk of Love.
Such Scenes had Beauty; but, when none appeared
Some accidental Good the Place endeared.
There Love had led them in some chearful Day,
That past in Ease and blameless Mirth away;
When, as their Children gambol'd in their View,
Some happy Presage from their Sport they drew.
Still to these Scenes, by fond Remembrance led,
She turn'd, and there her softest Tears were shed.
There heavenly Hope her cheering Visit paid,
And there with Faith and fervent Zeal she prayed.
Thus, Summer past, Autumnal Scenes came on,
And Winter's Frost; and so the Year was gone.
Then other Seasons came, and other Years
Brought the same Comforts, Tenderness and Tears.
Year after year thus stole in Quiet by,
Sure, but unmarked, as Cranes and Swallows fly;
And now was One that with its Record fled:
No News of Frederick; but the Wife was dead!
A Crimson flush then marked Matilda's Cheek,
This spoke; this only she allowed to speak.
And Winter's Frost; and so the Year was gone.
Then other Seasons came, and other Years
Brought the same Comforts, Tenderness and Tears.
Year after year thus stole in Quiet by,
Sure, but unmarked, as Cranes and Swallows fly;
And now was One that with its Record fled:
No News of Frederick; but the Wife was dead!
A Crimson flush then marked Matilda's Cheek,
This spoke; this only she allowed to speak.
Within the neighbouring Town were some whose Cares
Were kindly given to their Friends' Affairs;
“And why,” they said, “should Richard Vernon live
“Without a Wife, when we have Girls to give?”
But Richard had it not in Mind to wed;
He had the daily Cares that served instead—
His land, his Books, and the Attention shown
To Children now become by Choice his own;
And, if he thought of Marriage, 'twas as one
Who dreams of something that cannot be done!
Were kindly given to their Friends' Affairs;
“And why,” they said, “should Richard Vernon live
“Without a Wife, when we have Girls to give?”
But Richard had it not in Mind to wed;
He had the daily Cares that served instead—
His land, his Books, and the Attention shown
To Children now become by Choice his own;
And, if he thought of Marriage, 'twas as one
Who dreams of something that cannot be done!
Speak of the Sex, he prais'd them o'er and o'er;
Speak of the Woman, and he said no more;
And Women therefore, on their Part, began
To speak less kindly of so cool a Man.
Speak of the Woman, and he said no more;
And Women therefore, on their Part, began
To speak less kindly of so cool a Man.
But, when his Sister sighed, or when she wore
A look of Suffering, he was cool no more.
Then would he say, “My Sister, you are ill,
“And need th' Assistance of a Man of Skill.
“Your Walk fatigues you, and the Cool Sea Breeze,
“To Health so grateful, but augments Disease.
“Do look, Matilda, in your Mother's face;
“Is she not paler? 'Tis a serious Case.”—
All this was Kindness; but the time was near
When Fear was just, when there was cause for Fear.
To her who panted, in her Breath opprest,
Food gave not Strength, Sleep brought uncertain Rest.
The troubled Children, as at Something strange,
Looked their distress and trembled at the Change.
Who goes in Search of Health may be supplied
In Every Way he travels with a Guide.
A look of Suffering, he was cool no more.
Then would he say, “My Sister, you are ill,
“And need th' Assistance of a Man of Skill.
“Your Walk fatigues you, and the Cool Sea Breeze,
“To Health so grateful, but augments Disease.
“Do look, Matilda, in your Mother's face;
“Is she not paler? 'Tis a serious Case.”—
All this was Kindness; but the time was near
486
To her who panted, in her Breath opprest,
Food gave not Strength, Sleep brought uncertain Rest.
The troubled Children, as at Something strange,
Looked their distress and trembled at the Change.
Who goes in Search of Health may be supplied
In Every Way he travels with a Guide.
One of these Guides, long taught the way to please
And put a doubtful Traveller at his Ease,
Advised a Warmer Sun and clearer Sky:
“It may be useful, and you can but try;
“Here you can scarsely live, and there you can but die.”
And put a doubtful Traveller at his Ease,
Advised a Warmer Sun and clearer Sky:
“It may be useful, and you can but try;
“Here you can scarsely live, and there you can but die.”
This was not said, but something not so rude—
And this was meant, and this was understood.
And this was meant, and this was understood.
Against Advice the placid Mother strove;
She fought with Learning, but complied with Love.
The Coast of France appear'd new Strength to give
And Hope, exulting, told that she would live.
“But she must move; must ever be employed;
“See what is seen; enjoy what is enjoyed,
“And through the Coast must at her Pleasure ride,
“And never think!” for so advised the Guide.
She fought with Learning, but complied with Love.
The Coast of France appear'd new Strength to give
And Hope, exulting, told that she would live.
“But she must move; must ever be employed;
“See what is seen; enjoy what is enjoyed,
“And through the Coast must at her Pleasure ride,
“And never think!” for so advised the Guide.
“Now where, Matilda, shall we go to-day?”
So Richard said, as he was wont to say;
“Where bend our Steps?” He took his Glass in Hand:
“Here comes a Boat; suppose we see it land?”
They saw it land—“And, Boatmen, who are these?”—
“A Priest they say, and from beyond the Seas.
“But he who leans upon the Friend beside
“Is going fast; we judged he must have died—
“Coming for Health; and, if he means to stay
“Till it arrives, he'll never go away.”
So Richard said, as he was wont to say;
“Where bend our Steps?” He took his Glass in Hand:
“Here comes a Boat; suppose we see it land?”
They saw it land—“And, Boatmen, who are these?”—
“A Priest they say, and from beyond the Seas.
“But he who leans upon the Friend beside
“Is going fast; we judged he must have died—
“Coming for Health; and, if he means to stay
“Till it arrives, he'll never go away.”
So spake the Seamen; when, approaching nigh,
Matilda stopt and, with an heavy sigh,
Dropt on the Shore. Her Brother, frightened, flew
To give her Aid—she breathed, and, “Is it true?”
She said; “I saw him—I my Frederick see;
“Brother, forgive! he comes to die with me.
“What Heaven decrees is done.”—And now began
The same strong feeling in the fainting Man.
What past so near him his Attention drew;
The Voice alarmed him, and the Wife he knew.
Matilda stopt and, with an heavy sigh,
Dropt on the Shore. Her Brother, frightened, flew
To give her Aid—she breathed, and, “Is it true?”
She said; “I saw him—I my Frederick see;
“Brother, forgive! he comes to die with me.
“What Heaven decrees is done.”—And now began
The same strong feeling in the fainting Man.
What past so near him his Attention drew;
The Voice alarmed him, and the Wife he knew.
Here then they dwelt; the dying Man and Wife
Together past this Fragment of their Life.
Daily they bade to earthly things Adieu,
Their Moments numbered and the Number few.
The softened Brother let his Anger sleep,
With the fond Pair to sympathise and weep.
Then Frederick told, how on that dreadful Night,
When urged by Conscience he resolved on Flight,
To lose all Comfort in this World and live
Without one Joy that Life or Love can give;
To meet no more the Forms he loved, no more
The playful Smiles of Fondness to explore;
But to bid all, and Hope with all, farewell—
What to such Evil can a Soul compell?
Together past this Fragment of their Life.
Daily they bade to earthly things Adieu,
Their Moments numbered and the Number few.
The softened Brother let his Anger sleep,
With the fond Pair to sympathise and weep.
487
When urged by Conscience he resolved on Flight,
To lose all Comfort in this World and live
Without one Joy that Life or Love can give;
To meet no more the Forms he loved, no more
The playful Smiles of Fondness to explore;
But to bid all, and Hope with all, farewell—
What to such Evil can a Soul compell?
He told, how then he went from place to place
In fact a Beggar, more than Beggary base;
How, grieved at length and humbled in the Dust,
He then began the Sacred Word to trust;
To feel that God was Love, but yet with Love was just;
A Saviour's Sufferings to his Heart he laid,
And felt the Balm of Mercy as he prayed.
How then he dared his past offences view,
And the first dawn of Hope's soft Comfort knew;
But never more must Home's soft Comfort see,
But a lone Wanderer in the World must be.
Filled with such thoughts, he join'd a serious few
Who showed the Way that he must then pursue,
The Aid he was to yield, the Work he was to do.
He told what Hovels then he sought, and where
He heard the Tale of Woe and taught the Prayer.
He sought the Mine, and in that World below
Had seen the Tears of strong Contrition flow;
Now near the Pole, and now beneath the Line,
To Suffering Man he bore the Word divine;
Where'er the Brethren bade him go he went—
So the first Years of Penitence were spent.
In fact a Beggar, more than Beggary base;
How, grieved at length and humbled in the Dust,
He then began the Sacred Word to trust;
To feel that God was Love, but yet with Love was just;
A Saviour's Sufferings to his Heart he laid,
And felt the Balm of Mercy as he prayed.
How then he dared his past offences view,
And the first dawn of Hope's soft Comfort knew;
But never more must Home's soft Comfort see,
But a lone Wanderer in the World must be.
Filled with such thoughts, he join'd a serious few
Who showed the Way that he must then pursue,
The Aid he was to yield, the Work he was to do.
He told what Hovels then he sought, and where
He heard the Tale of Woe and taught the Prayer.
He sought the Mine, and in that World below
Had seen the Tears of strong Contrition flow;
Now near the Pole, and now beneath the Line,
To Suffering Man he bore the Word divine;
Where'er the Brethren bade him go he went—
So the first Years of Penitence were spent.
Dispute with them was none, was no delay;
To give Command was theirs, and his t' obey.
What, if the Climate should your frame offend—
Can Health be wasted to a better end?
What, if Death meets you on a foreign Shore—
He met the Martyrs at the Work before;
And what is all we fear or all we feel
But Proofs of Favour and Rewards of Zeal;
Acceptance of your Love and Suffering is the seal.
To give Command was theirs, and his t' obey.
What, if the Climate should your frame offend—
Can Health be wasted to a better end?
What, if Death meets you on a foreign Shore—
He met the Martyrs at the Work before;
And what is all we fear or all we feel
But Proofs of Favour and Rewards of Zeal;
Acceptance of your Love and Suffering is the seal.
He spoke of Years that fled, while thus employed,
Of Dangers conquered and of Health destroyed;
“And then,” he said, “I felt my Heart incline
“To its loved Scenes, to [feel] for thee and thine.”
Of Dangers conquered and of Health destroyed;
“And then,” he said, “I felt my Heart incline
“To its loved Scenes, to [feel] for thee and thine.”
Thus they communed, and holy thoughts and Prayers
Of Souls devoted to their God were theirs.
Yet would they sometimes Earthly Comfort seek,
And of Enjoyments, nay Amusements, speak.
Of Souls devoted to their God were theirs.
Yet would they sometimes Earthly Comfort seek,
And of Enjoyments, nay Amusements, speak.
The deep green Lane, the golden-sanded Lake
That would a thousand soft Emotions wake;
The bare old Oaks who with their dismal tone
Seemed at the Music of the Grove to groan—
These and the Scenes of many a pleasant Thought
Were from that Distance to their fancy brought;
And they would smile at many an idle thing
Or chearful Fact that to the Mind would cling;
And the fond Pair, although oppress'd and pained,
Their mutual Fate with brightest Hope sustained.
That would a thousand soft Emotions wake;
The bare old Oaks who with their dismal tone
488
These and the Scenes of many a pleasant Thought
Were from that Distance to their fancy brought;
And they would smile at many an idle thing
Or chearful Fact that to the Mind would cling;
And the fond Pair, although oppress'd and pained,
Their mutual Fate with brightest Hope sustained.
Life ebbed apace; the Brother's Hope and Fear
Led him to speak of—yet another Year;
And then of Season: “'tis the Chill of Spring,
“But Summer's Breath will balmy Influence bring.”
As Billows beat upon the peb'ly Shore,
Nor reach the Place which Others past before;
Yet in short Time the bolder Waves press on,
And the faint marks of humbler kind are gone;
Till at the highest Mark the Waves ascend
And there their Prowess and the Progress end—
So in departing Life our days appear:
One, fiercely threat'ning speaks, the Period near;
A fairer Kind succeed, so soft and mild
That Love is soothed and Hope again beguil'd;
Then comes the last—that must our Fate decide,
And there's no Turning in this mortal Tide!
It's come, is gone; nor is there much of strife—
Consenting nature yields the weary life.
Led him to speak of—yet another Year;
And then of Season: “'tis the Chill of Spring,
“But Summer's Breath will balmy Influence bring.”
As Billows beat upon the peb'ly Shore,
Nor reach the Place which Others past before;
Yet in short Time the bolder Waves press on,
And the faint marks of humbler kind are gone;
Till at the highest Mark the Waves ascend
And there their Prowess and the Progress end—
So in departing Life our days appear:
One, fiercely threat'ning speaks, the Period near;
A fairer Kind succeed, so soft and mild
That Love is soothed and Hope again beguil'd;
Then comes the last—that must our Fate decide,
And there's no Turning in this mortal Tide!
It's come, is gone; nor is there much of strife—
Consenting nature yields the weary life.
Placed on his pillowed Chair Matilda by,
The Husband saw the dim and speechless Eye;
Felt the cold Hand, and said, “'Tis now a last;
“This One dear Look and all will then be past;
“She will precede me.”—Yet he wrongly guess'd:
Ev'n as he spake, he sank himself to rest.
She knew th' Event, but knew not long; her sight,
Her Hearing fails; 'twas Dimness, and 'twas Night!
They sleep together, and our Record ends;
But first a Priest his Application lends.
Pains, Troubles, Sorrows, Life's more grievous cares,
The Husband saw the dim and speechless Eye;
Felt the cold Hand, and said, “'Tis now a last;
“This One dear Look and all will then be past;
“She will precede me.”—Yet he wrongly guess'd:
Ev'n as he spake, he sank himself to rest.
She knew th' Event, but knew not long; her sight,
Her Hearing fails; 'twas Dimness, and 'twas Night!
They sleep together, and our Record ends;
But first a Priest his Application lends.
All from our ill, or for our Good arise;
For all correction thank the Hand that spares,
For all Affliction bless the Power that tries!
489
THE FUNERAL OF THE SQUIRE.
I left my Friend, and at the Closing day
Took to the Church-Yard walk my evening way.
'Twas there, invited by th' unusual Sound,
The Good old Sexton in the Church I found;
He from a Vault had thrown the Earth aside—
Proof that some Person of Respect had died;
And now was coming to that vaulted Home
To which—but not in Churches—we must come.
There the old Sexton, on the Heap he made,
Looked at his Work and leaned upon his Spade;
As if with some Complacency he dwelt
Upon his Task and its Importance felt.
Took to the Church-Yard walk my evening way.
'Twas there, invited by th' unusual Sound,
The Good old Sexton in the Church I found;
He from a Vault had thrown the Earth aside—
Proof that some Person of Respect had died;
And now was coming to that vaulted Home
To which—but not in Churches—we must come.
There the old Sexton, on the Heap he made,
Looked at his Work and leaned upon his Spade;
As if with some Complacency he dwelt
Upon his Task and its Importance felt.
“Stranger,” said Good-man Sexton—I was strange
To my old Neighbour—“here's an awful change!”
This provoked Question; Question to such Man
Provoked Reply; and thus his Tale began.
To my old Neighbour—“here's an awful change!”
This provoked Question; Question to such Man
Provoked Reply; and thus his Tale began.
“In yonder Place—for so our People call
“That large new House; the other is the Hall;
“'Tis the more Antient—yet, for many a Year,
“The Squire and his Forefathers flourished here.
“Long had the last with his good Lady kept
“Their Wedding-vow, together walked and slept,
“And were a loving, grave, Church-going Pair;
“Howbeit, Heaven vouchsafed them not an Heir.
“That large new House; the other is the Hall;
“'Tis the more Antient—yet, for many a Year,
“The Squire and his Forefathers flourished here.
“Long had the last with his good Lady kept
“Their Wedding-vow, together walked and slept,
“And were a loving, grave, Church-going Pair;
“Howbeit, Heaven vouchsafed them not an Heir.
“But Oh! the sad Events of Mortal Life!
“The Squire in ripe old age forgot his Wife;
“Forgot the Sayings of the Law divine,
“And took an Harlot for his Concubine.
“From thence, O stranger! we may date his Fall;
“In fact it was the Ruin of them all.
“For my good Lady grieved to think how Sin
“His Heart, by Prayer unguarded, entered in;
“For, though the Squire observed the Sabbath Day,
“It was forsooth to shew the Poor the Way.
“'Twas not to have his Conscience clean and swept;
“For, though he listened for a while, he slept.—
“But, not to tarry in the tale I tell,
“He sought not Grace to stand; and so he fell.
“The Squire in ripe old age forgot his Wife;
“Forgot the Sayings of the Law divine,
“And took an Harlot for his Concubine.
“From thence, O stranger! we may date his Fall;
“In fact it was the Ruin of them all.
“For my good Lady grieved to think how Sin
“His Heart, by Prayer unguarded, entered in;
“For, though the Squire observed the Sabbath Day,
“It was forsooth to shew the Poor the Way.
“'Twas not to have his Conscience clean and swept;
“For, though he listened for a while, he slept.—
“But, not to tarry in the tale I tell,
“He sought not Grace to stand; and so he fell.
“Some two Years since, he walked his Fields to see;
“Saw them at Distance, and his Mind was free;
“Approaching near, a bounden slave was he.
“Like the rich Boaz, he his People saw
“In his own Land, and where his Word was Law;
“And he, poor Mortal, was rejoicing then
“Among his laughing Maids and labouring Men.
“Saw them at Distance, and his Mind was free;
“Approaching near, a bounden slave was he.
“Like the rich Boaz, he his People saw
“In his own Land, and where his Word was Law;
“And he, poor Mortal, was rejoicing then
“Among his laughing Maids and labouring Men.
“So the great King of Babylon was glad
“In his proud Heart, and in a Moment mad.
“In his proud Heart, and in a Moment mad.
“For there the Squire beheld a dangerous Face,
“Alluring, lovely, but with Lack of Grace,
“And not of Craft; for then the Squire, betray'd
“By lawless Love, his wild Behests obeyed.
“The artful Damsel could her Way discern,
“And had not much of this bad World to learn
“Or its Deceits, but made her Will her Way;
“Could look as pure as on her Wedding-day
“The Maiden-Bride, and be in Heart as gay.
490
“And not of Craft; for then the Squire, betray'd
“By lawless Love, his wild Behests obeyed.
“The artful Damsel could her Way discern,
“And had not much of this bad World to learn
“Or its Deceits, but made her Will her Way;
“Could look as pure as on her Wedding-day
“The Maiden-Bride, and be in Heart as gay.
“Then, as a simple Child, whene'er he spoke,
“She laughed, delighted at his Honour's Joke;
“And thus the Frailty in his Heart began—
“Frailty the same that bound the wisest man;
“And far into that foul Reproach was gone,
“Although our Squire was not a Solomon.
“I knew the Damsel; she was not a Ruth,
“And had been wild and wanton all her Youth.
“She from her Bible no Instruction took,
“But studied like a Dalilah to look;
“Till Grace forsook her, left to the Controul
“Of Evil Things that War against the Soul.—
“She laughed, delighted at his Honour's Joke;
“And thus the Frailty in his Heart began—
“Frailty the same that bound the wisest man;
“And far into that foul Reproach was gone,
“Although our Squire was not a Solomon.
“I knew the Damsel; she was not a Ruth,
“And had been wild and wanton all her Youth.
“She from her Bible no Instruction took,
“But studied like a Dalilah to look;
“Till Grace forsook her, left to the Controul
“Of Evil Things that War against the Soul.—
“But I am wandering. When a Man is old,
“His Words come slowly, for his Blood is cold;
“And, the less time he has his Tale to tell,
“The longer he on every part will dwell.
“Alas! I'm like an old and crippled Steed,
“Slow but not sure—yet now I will proceed.
“His Words come slowly, for his Blood is cold;
“And, the less time he has his Tale to tell,
“The longer he on every part will dwell.
“Alas! I'm like an old and crippled Steed,
“Slow but not sure—yet now I will proceed.
“The tempted Man was Mad and deaf and blind,
“And sold his Peace to make an Harlot kind.
“He bought what he called Virtue at a Price
“She dared not ask, and then he found it Vice.
“Her purchased Smiles were as the changeful Ray
“Of April Suns—a Glimmer, and away!
“And sold his Peace to make an Harlot kind.
“He bought what he called Virtue at a Price
“She dared not ask, and then he found it Vice.
“Her purchased Smiles were as the changeful Ray
“Of April Suns—a Glimmer, and away!
“He who loved Gold, and all that Gold could win,
“Gave all a Costly Sacrifice to Sin;
“Wife, Friends and his good Name were but as Dust
“In his Mind's Ballance, that was now unjust.
“His Lady wept, but was no longer dear;
“His Friends admonished, Friends he would not hear;
“His Preacher threaten'd, he despised the Threat;
“Told of his Sin, he grew more sinful yet.
“Warnings were sent, at first the slight and slow,
“Then more Awakening; and then came the Blow.
“Fever and Pain confined him to his Bed,
“And Hope smiled faintly; but she quickly fled.
“Lost and bewildered, he repeats the Name
“That none can hear without Disgust or Shame.
“‘Bring her,’ he cried, ‘and place her on a Throne;
“‘For she is worthy, and shall reign alone!’
“Alas! his Queen was, like himself, attacked
“By that same Fever and with Terror racked;
“And now a Message to the Vicar sent,
“[Told that] his dying Honour would repent.
“Gave all a Costly Sacrifice to Sin;
“Wife, Friends and his good Name were but as Dust
“In his Mind's Ballance, that was now unjust.
“His Lady wept, but was no longer dear;
“His Friends admonished, Friends he would not hear;
“His Preacher threaten'd, he despised the Threat;
“Told of his Sin, he grew more sinful yet.
“Warnings were sent, at first the slight and slow,
“Then more Awakening; and then came the Blow.
“Fever and Pain confined him to his Bed,
“And Hope smiled faintly; but she quickly fled.
“Lost and bewildered, he repeats the Name
“That none can hear without Disgust or Shame.
“‘Bring her,’ he cried, ‘and place her on a Throne;
“‘For she is worthy, and shall reign alone!’
“Alas! his Queen was, like himself, attacked
“By that same Fever and with Terror racked;
“And now a Message to the Vicar sent,
“[Told that] his dying Honour would repent.
“The Vicar came [at once, with] Christian speed;
“The Doctor bade him, if he dared, proceed;
“For he was watching how his drugs would back
“The struggling Nature in this strong Attack:
“Such Thoughts at best would Nature's force impair
“And stop his Progress; 'twas not fighting fair.
“‘If I succeed, there's nothing more to do;
“‘And, if I fail, you'll have a Day or two;
“‘When Hope is over, and a Man prepares
“‘Body and Soul to settle his Affairs.’
“The Doctor fought, no doubt, with all his Might,
“But Nature yielded in the Doctor's Spite;
“And the good Vicar had his leave to try
“All he could offer; for the Man must die.
“But there was no repose; the troubled Brain
“Could little bear and nothing could retain.
491
“For he was watching how his drugs would back
“The struggling Nature in this strong Attack:
“Such Thoughts at best would Nature's force impair
“And stop his Progress; 'twas not fighting fair.
“‘If I succeed, there's nothing more to do;
“‘And, if I fail, you'll have a Day or two;
“‘When Hope is over, and a Man prepares
“‘Body and Soul to settle his Affairs.’
“The Doctor fought, no doubt, with all his Might,
“But Nature yielded in the Doctor's Spite;
“And the good Vicar had his leave to try
“All he could offer; for the Man must die.
“But there was no repose; the troubled Brain
“Could little bear and nothing could retain.
“In the same Night his troubled Spirit past
“That object of his Frailty breathed her last.
“Her we have buried in an earlier Day,
“And laid her where our parish poor we lay;
“It took not long that Business to adjust—
“When common Folk are carried Dust to Dust.
“A few kind Neighbours, by the setting Sun,
“Bear the light Burden when their Work is done,
“And there's an End.—But, when the Wealthy sleep,
“We keep the Body long as we can keep,
“And seek for help of those who will contrive
“To make things seem as all were yet alive.
“He lies in state, his Visits duly paid,
“And is—or he appears to be—obeyed.
“An intermediate State, when stopt the Breath,
“We make a kind of Compromise with Death:
“His is the Body, that he needs must have;
“But all is Life on this side of the Grave—
“As if alive, with Care we tend his Bed
“And bear him off, as if he felt us tread.
“With sad slow Pomp the Crowd behold him come
“And laid discreetly in his vaulted Home,
“O'er which, his Worth inscribed, shall rise the stately Tomb.
“Thus, when a Town has yielded, 'tis agreed—
“So have I heard—some Favour shall succeed;
“For, though the conquered Army must obey
“The Conqueror's Will and sadly walk away,
“Yet 'tis allowed to valiant Men and stout
“With War's proud Honours to march proudly out. [OMITTED]
“That object of his Frailty breathed her last.
“Her we have buried in an earlier Day,
“And laid her where our parish poor we lay;
“It took not long that Business to adjust—
“When common Folk are carried Dust to Dust.
“A few kind Neighbours, by the setting Sun,
“Bear the light Burden when their Work is done,
“And there's an End.—But, when the Wealthy sleep,
“We keep the Body long as we can keep,
“And seek for help of those who will contrive
“To make things seem as all were yet alive.
“He lies in state, his Visits duly paid,
“And is—or he appears to be—obeyed.
“An intermediate State, when stopt the Breath,
“We make a kind of Compromise with Death:
“His is the Body, that he needs must have;
“But all is Life on this side of the Grave—
“As if alive, with Care we tend his Bed
“And bear him off, as if he felt us tread.
“With sad slow Pomp the Crowd behold him come
“And laid discreetly in his vaulted Home,
“O'er which, his Worth inscribed, shall rise the stately Tomb.
“Thus, when a Town has yielded, 'tis agreed—
“So have I heard—some Favour shall succeed;
“For, though the conquered Army must obey
“The Conqueror's Will and sadly walk away,
“Yet 'tis allowed to valiant Men and stout
“With War's proud Honours to march proudly out. [OMITTED]
492
JOSEPH AND CHARLES.
To an old Friend with friendly Spirit came
A brave old Seaman, Fletcher was his Name;
Late from Madras, and eager to behold
The Place he knew, the Scenes he loved of old.
Two days had past, since he that friend had seen,
And heard and told of what had acted been,
Or what befallen, in that favourite Town
Which the sea washed, in fact had half-washed down.
When all pertaining to themselves had End,
The Captain spake of what concerned a Friend—
A wealthy Man, whom he had left behind,
And hoped again an healthy Man to find.
A brave old Seaman, Fletcher was his Name;
Late from Madras, and eager to behold
The Place he knew, the Scenes he loved of old.
Two days had past, since he that friend had seen,
And heard and told of what had acted been,
Or what befallen, in that favourite Town
Which the sea washed, in fact had half-washed down.
When all pertaining to themselves had End,
The Captain spake of what concerned a Friend—
A wealthy Man, whom he had left behind,
And hoped again an healthy Man to find.
“Well, my dear Jonas, you have heard of all
“That you or I concern of Ours can call;
“Now for my Friend! 'Tis thirty years at least
“Since he began adventuring in the East;
“And, after labouring much with much Success,
“He now is worth—but think a bit and guess!
“He married early, but his Wife was weak;
“And his Boys died before they learn'd to speak.
“Still he went on, though free from all the Itch
“Of living grandly or of dying rich.
“Parting, he said—for our Concerns in Trade
“Had us fast Friend of slight Acquaintance made—
“‘Fletcher, there are, not distant from the Place
“‘Which you will visit, Remnants of our Race.
“‘I left an elder Brother, only one
“‘Of all our Kin, and he an only Son.
“‘Ben had small sense, but yet had, [as] they tell—
“‘For I have made Enquiry—acted well;
“‘Married a Dame with Money, and began,
“‘As Burgess told, to be a noted Man.
“‘But the Wife died, who was his Stay and Prop;
“‘Then Fortune varied, and he made a stop.
“‘She left one Boy—and never Boy betrayed
“‘Less Wit than Ben; who married with his Maid,
“‘A close young Shrew—yet, do her right, she kept
“‘Together closely all that could be swept
“‘From his half-wasted Substance. Children more
“‘Than I can name she to the Blockhead bore,
“‘To share his Pittance with the former Son;
“‘And he survived not long, when this was done.
“‘Years pass'd with them, I need not tell you how,
“‘For they are gone and are forgotten now;
“‘But [how] the Children, Men and Women, they,
“‘Were placed, how fed, is more than I can say.
“‘Yet near the Place I may suppose they dwell,
“‘And some the state in which they live may tell;
“‘When your Report shall be to me a Guide
“‘How I my little scraping may divide. [OMITTED]
“That you or I concern of Ours can call;
“Now for my Friend! 'Tis thirty years at least
“Since he began adventuring in the East;
“And, after labouring much with much Success,
“He now is worth—but think a bit and guess!
“He married early, but his Wife was weak;
“And his Boys died before they learn'd to speak.
“Still he went on, though free from all the Itch
“Of living grandly or of dying rich.
“Parting, he said—for our Concerns in Trade
“Had us fast Friend of slight Acquaintance made—
“‘Fletcher, there are, not distant from the Place
“‘Which you will visit, Remnants of our Race.
“‘I left an elder Brother, only one
“‘Of all our Kin, and he an only Son.
“‘Ben had small sense, but yet had, [as] they tell—
“‘For I have made Enquiry—acted well;
“‘Married a Dame with Money, and began,
“‘As Burgess told, to be a noted Man.
“‘But the Wife died, who was his Stay and Prop;
“‘Then Fortune varied, and he made a stop.
“‘She left one Boy—and never Boy betrayed
“‘Less Wit than Ben; who married with his Maid,
“‘A close young Shrew—yet, do her right, she kept
“‘Together closely all that could be swept
“‘From his half-wasted Substance. Children more
“‘Than I can name she to the Blockhead bore,
“‘To share his Pittance with the former Son;
“‘And he survived not long, when this was done.
“‘Years pass'd with them, I need not tell you how,
“‘For they are gone and are forgotten now;
“‘But [how] the Children, Men and Women, they,
“‘Were placed, how fed, is more than I can say.
493
“‘And some the state in which they live may tell;
“‘When your Report shall be to me a Guide
“‘How I my little scraping may divide. [OMITTED]
[CONTENTMENT.]
[OMITTED]
Not so our Manor['s] Lord; no part hath he
Within our Borough, therefore may be free;
In his own Mansion he resides, with all,
That Man requires attending on his Call.
He loves his Ease, but yet has ofttimes proved
That, Minds assenting, Bodies may be moved.
He loves his own good Lady, and her Word
Is Law to all—except her own good Lord.
He takes Life's Comforts for a general Good,
But does not take her Cordials for his Food.
Nor thinks, because the Vine grew [juice] for Man,
That he may take what Quantity he can—
So that our worthy Squire is one who tries
To be as merry as becomes the Wise;
And, tho' for Wisdom he was not renowned,
He answered Questions puzzling or profound.
Within our Borough, therefore may be free;
In his own Mansion he resides, with all,
That Man requires attending on his Call.
He loves his Ease, but yet has ofttimes proved
That, Minds assenting, Bodies may be moved.
He loves his own good Lady, and her Word
Is Law to all—except her own good Lord.
He takes Life's Comforts for a general Good,
But does not take her Cordials for his Food.
Nor thinks, because the Vine grew [juice] for Man,
That he may take what Quantity he can—
So that our worthy Squire is one who tries
To be as merry as becomes the Wise;
And, tho' for Wisdom he was not renowned,
He answered Questions puzzling or profound.
He loved his Daughters, but did not believe
They were the fairest ever sprung from Eve. [OMITTED]
They were the fairest ever sprung from Eve. [OMITTED]
TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF RUTLAND.
(Belvoir, August, 1784.)
From your own Belvoir, 'mid your flow'ring Lymes
And loftier Oaks, accept these feeble rhymes—
Feeble, and far unlike this beauteous scene
Of Woods and Turrets grey and vallies green!—
And loftier Oaks, accept these feeble rhymes—
Feeble, and far unlike this beauteous scene
Of Woods and Turrets grey and vallies green!—
To Rutland Health! Where'er his way he takes—
By Ireland's frowning Hills or simple Lakes;
By Shannon's spacious current, spreading wide
His aged Banks, or Allo's tumbling Tide;
By Barrow's Deeps, where Silver Salmon play;
Or where stout Nore winds on his waters grey;
By sedgy Lee, and Bandon's Woods among,
Or Spenser's Mulla, where he wept and sung—
Health to the Muses' Judge, the Muses' friend,
The last and meanest of her vot'ries send.
By Ireland's frowning Hills or simple Lakes;
By Shannon's spacious current, spreading wide
His aged Banks, or Allo's tumbling Tide;
By Barrow's Deeps, where Silver Salmon play;
494
By sedgy Lee, and Bandon's Woods among,
Or Spenser's Mulla, where he wept and sung—
Health to the Muses' Judge, the Muses' friend,
The last and meanest of her vot'ries send.
Health to her Grace; both ours and Dublin's pride—
Yet chiefly ours, nor we the boast divide!
Tho' like the Sun she quits her favourite Line
And deigns awhile in colder climes to shine:
Let not the children of the pole aver
Theirs is that sun, nor Ireland boast of her!
Ye nymphs of Leicester, famed for Maidens fair!
When now your poets paint the fairest there,
No luckless Lucy yields the favourite theme,
But Rutland, bright as Liffey's limpid stream—
Liffey, that rolls with prouder current on
And bear[s] our sighs, who mourn, now she is gone!—
Yet chiefly ours, nor we the boast divide!
Tho' like the Sun she quits her favourite Line
And deigns awhile in colder climes to shine:
Let not the children of the pole aver
Theirs is that sun, nor Ireland boast of her!
Ye nymphs of Leicester, famed for Maidens fair!
When now your poets paint the fairest there,
No luckless Lucy yields the favourite theme,
But Rutland, bright as Liffey's limpid stream—
Liffey, that rolls with prouder current on
And bear[s] our sighs, who mourn, now she is gone!—
Health to the future glories of that race,
In whom the likeness of the past we trace;
Who live to add new honours to their name,
Their Uncle's blooming praise and their brave grandsire's fame!
And that sweet pair, whose milder prowess lies
Not in their conquering arms, but in their eyes—
Health to that pair, these sister charms that show
To whom the world their varying beauties owe;
Varying but as the sun's bright rays that shine
With separate hues, which in their source combine!—
In whom the likeness of the past we trace;
Who live to add new honours to their name,
Their Uncle's blooming praise and their brave grandsire's fame!
And that sweet pair, whose milder prowess lies
Not in their conquering arms, but in their eyes—
Health to that pair, these sister charms that show
To whom the world their varying beauties owe;
Varying but as the sun's bright rays that shine
With separate hues, which in their source combine!—
So glow my wishes; and, my Lord, you know
They flow sincere, howe'er my numbers flow;
These are the tribute I can better pay,
Who have forgot to write, but not to pray.—
They flow sincere, howe'er my numbers flow;
These are the tribute I can better pay,
Who have forgot to write, but not to pray.—
Think you, my Lord; your Belvoir heights infuse
Vigor, like old Parnassus, to the Muse?
Not so; Parnassus was a dismal scene,
And hunger made the wretched Tenants keen;
Still the same kinds of Inspiration last:
A London garret and a long day's fast.—
Vigor, like old Parnassus, to the Muse?
Not so; Parnassus was a dismal scene,
And hunger made the wretched Tenants keen;
Still the same kinds of Inspiration last:
A London garret and a long day's fast.—
I—and I thank your Grace—have ceased to strive
In niggard rhymes to keep us just alive,
And little can, if now it pleased the State
To tax your poets as they tax your plate.
Exempt from both, my useless life I'd close,
Use humbler ware, and correspond in prose.—
In niggard rhymes to keep us just alive,
And little can, if now it pleased the State
To tax your poets as they tax your plate.
Exempt from both, my useless life I'd close,
Use humbler ware, and correspond in prose.—
Yet, if it pleased your Grace, I'd now and then
Employ a grateful, but a lazy, pen,
To paint these laughing scenes that round me shine—
Scenes worthy thee, and then to call them thine;
Nor vainly then the Village Squire should charm,
The buried Cottage [or] the busy Farm;
Nor then unpaid the blooming banks should die,
Nor Wood-shop's little rill run vainly by.—
Employ a grateful, but a lazy, pen,
To paint these laughing scenes that round me shine—
Scenes worthy thee, and then to call them thine;
495
The buried Cottage [or] the busy Farm;
Nor then unpaid the blooming banks should die,
Nor Wood-shop's little rill run vainly by.—
Then, Granby, humble village of the Vale
How should thy name inspire the glorious tale!
Like Beth'lem thou, the least of all thy race;
Yet the Redeemer chose that humble place
To give Him birth, and thou hast lent a name
To Him who pays thee with eternal fame.—
How should thy name inspire the glorious tale!
Like Beth'lem thou, the least of all thy race;
Yet the Redeemer chose that humble place
To give Him birth, and thou hast lent a name
To Him who pays thee with eternal fame.—
[Bottesford] should then the rising song bring on,
And the great dead, to their last Mansion gone;
Where, like the Hero's and the Statesman's Dust,
Crown'd with the fretted scroll, and sleeping bust,
And guiltless trappings, which poor wits deride
With little spite and moralising pride,
The grateful tribute['s] paid the glorious dead—
The wise who governed and the brave who bled.
And the great dead, to their last Mansion gone;
Where, like the Hero's and the Statesman's Dust,
Crown'd with the fretted scroll, and sleeping bust,
And guiltless trappings, which poor wits deride
With little spite and moralising pride,
The grateful tribute['s] paid the glorious dead—
The wise who governed and the brave who bled.
Long, long, ye sacred dead, in peace remain,
Ere yet your hallowed home resounds again,
With groans resound[s] and the loud sighs which tell,
Another Rutland bids the sun farewell;
Ere yet the mourning crowd's slow steps attend
The friend to merit and the poor man's friend,
Or read with weeping eyes the finished sum
Of all his days—blest days, and yet to come!
Ere yet your hallowed home resounds again,
With groans resound[s] and the loud sighs which tell,
Another Rutland bids the sun farewell;
Ere yet the mourning crowd's slow steps attend
The friend to merit and the poor man's friend,
Or read with weeping eyes the finished sum
Of all his days—blest days, and yet to come!
Belvoir should then the closing stanzas fill,
This sacred dome that crowns the lordly Hill,
Rever'd through rolling times and venerable still:
She that looks down o'er the rich Vale and sees
Trees at her feet and hills adorned with Trees;
She that contains within her stately towers
The works of ages past and the delight of ours!—
This sacred dome that crowns the lordly Hill,
Rever'd through rolling times and venerable still:
She that looks down o'er the rich Vale and sees
Trees at her feet and hills adorned with Trees;
She that contains within her stately towers
The works of ages past and the delight of ours!—
Here might the poet chuse the noblest themes,
Indulge his vein and dream enchanting dreams;
Might trace the relics of the days of old,
When Kings' [Impeachment] warned our Barons bold,
Whose arms the love of Sovereign Pride withstood,
And veiled the freedom of their sons with blood.
Indulge his vein and dream enchanting dreams;
Might trace the relics of the days of old,
When Kings' [Impeachment] warned our Barons bold,
Whose arms the love of Sovereign Pride withstood,
And veiled the freedom of their sons with blood.
Here doubtless, long before the Romans came,
Dwelt Glorious Lords in now forgotten fame,
Who met the world's proud victors on the shore,
And drove them back who drove the world before.
The Saxon then a [subject] race appear,
What time bold William reigned the Sovereign here.
Let Leland tell how their fair damsels stood,
Like beauty's Goddess, as she left the wood;
When one to wife an amorous Monarch chose;
For these are tales that suit with solemn prose.
The giddy Muses must forbear to touch
On themes, when poets always tell too much.
Too much has West—but let his beauties die,
For there are those who Time and Death defy;
Guido and rich Salvator's offspring wild,
And meek Murillo, holy, modest, mild;
Rubens, whose matchless tints as sunbeams strike;
Claud[e]'s woodland glories and the strong Vandyke;
Painstaking Flemings here display their art
And charm the eye, although they miss the heart;
Numbers beside, the rich, the grave, the free—
Names known to glory but unknown to me:
These in their turns all tastes and Judgments please,
And Reynolds last, not least, nor less than these.
Dwelt Glorious Lords in now forgotten fame,
Who met the world's proud victors on the shore,
And drove them back who drove the world before.
The Saxon then a [subject] race appear,
What time bold William reigned the Sovereign here.
Let Leland tell how their fair damsels stood,
Like beauty's Goddess, as she left the wood;
496
For these are tales that suit with solemn prose.
The giddy Muses must forbear to touch
On themes, when poets always tell too much.
Too much has West—but let his beauties die,
For there are those who Time and Death defy;
Guido and rich Salvator's offspring wild,
And meek Murillo, holy, modest, mild;
Rubens, whose matchless tints as sunbeams strike;
Claud[e]'s woodland glories and the strong Vandyke;
Painstaking Flemings here display their art
And charm the eye, although they miss the heart;
Numbers beside, the rich, the grave, the free—
Names known to glory but unknown to me:
These in their turns all tastes and Judgments please,
And Reynolds last, not least, nor less than these.
Pardon, my Lord, these idle fits of rhyme
That flow from too much ease and too much time!
You bade th' inspiring Days of Gloom depart
And spoiled the poet when you eas'd his heart:
Take then such feeble thanks as he can pay,
Who feels more grateful as his powers decay,
And finds the will to sing, but cannot find the way!
That flow from too much ease and too much time!
You bade th' inspiring Days of Gloom depart
And spoiled the poet when you eas'd his heart:
Take then such feeble thanks as he can pay,
Who feels more grateful as his powers decay,
And finds the will to sing, but cannot find the way!
[THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM.]
This is my Place of pilgrimage: a ValeWhere piety oft slumbers, while Desire,
Like one new waken'd, snatches up in haste,
With Grasp insane, Light Joys, fantastic Hopes,
Remnants of Motley Bliss, confus'dly join'd
To woes alternate, sure of something ill,
Where the Good lies beneath—
[SORROW.]
O sacred Sorrow, by whom Souls are tried,Sent not to punish Mortals, but to guide:
If Thou art mine (and who shall proudly dare
To tell his Maker, he has had his share?)—
Still let me feel for what thy pangs are sent,
And be my Guide, and not my punishment!
497
[A FRAGMENT.]
What, though the Horse I hired, the villain Hack,Meek as I [am], would throw me on my Back;
Tho' musing much—in slow and solemn pace,
The Urchin Crew would laugh me to my face!
I woo'd the Muses, meditating Song, [OMITTED]
Some Sideway ditch would woo my feet, half Mud,
Half Ink, and plunge me in the sombre flood. [OMITTED]
[POVERTY AND LOVE.]
[OMITTED] These little Evils, and a thousand such,Which the proud poor will ever feel too much,
Touch not the heart, or transient is the Touch.
Fly Reason's Voice; but, oh! the pain to prove
That dreadful Union, Poverty and Love;
To dream of mutual Joy and raise the Mind
To all things noble, generous and refin'd;
Above the low-born Cares of Life to dwell;
To be more blest than human tongue can tell;
With golden Hope, that soothes all Care the while,
And construes every Look and every Smile—
And all at once the golden Vision fled,
To find cold Truth and feel the want of Bread!
[THE CURATE'S PROGRESS.]
Near forty years with all my Care and Skill,Dear Flock, I fed you, as I feed you still.
Tho' mine at first was but the Curate's fare—
Half full the Belly, and the Back half bare—
Yet, freed from College Rules and classic Song,
The light Heart laugh'd and the young hope rose strong,
And (wrapt in visions of preferment) found
No Grief in Want and from Contempt no wound.
In pride and pity when the Farmer gave
A Sunday's Dinner to the Vicar's slave,
And more than hinted from my languid Looks,
I fed the Six remaining Days on Books:
Patient I [star'd], and saw thro' rolling years
His tith'd Sheaf humble thro' its golden Ears;
Saw the proud Man of Land his Joke resign,
And labour for a Laugh to flatter mine.
498
[THE TASK.]
(Jan. 20) [1813?]
The Task is dull; but I was taught
Myself, and 'tis a debt I owe
To those who [seek the] truths I sought,
The Knowledge I have gain'd to shew.
Myself, and 'tis a debt I owe
To those who [seek the] truths I sought,
The Knowledge I have gain'd to shew.
In many a dull and drowsy lad
I strove to wake the slumbering Soul,
And raise what faculties he had
By patient Care and mild Controul.
I strove to wake the slumbering Soul,
And raise what faculties he had
By patient Care and mild Controul.
And, when there came a sprightly boy,
As ardent was the Task; for still
He relished not the grave Employ,
Nor to his duty bent his Will.
[OMITTED]
As ardent was the Task; for still
He relished not the grave Employ,
Nor to his duty bent his Will.
[CONSCIOUS GUILTINESS.]
(Jan. 23, 1813.)
The Good are happy—in the joyful hour
No inward fears the present peace o'erpower,
And in the Evil time the pleasant force
Of conscious Virtue checks it in its Course.
Men all Abandon'd, Desperation all,
Feel not their Guilt nor tremble at their fall;
Vice for herself has found the desperate Cure
And banished thoughts no bosom could endure.
But the most wretched of the Guilty train
Are they who Virtue love and prize in vain;
Griev'd by the Life they yet resolve to lead,
Bound by the Ill, yet panting to be freed—
To them the Ways of Sacred Truth are known,
Yet they proceed and suffer in their Own.
Onward they go, still sighing to retrieve
Their Steps, and longing for the Good they leave.
499
[BELIEF AND UNBELIEF.]
(March 7) [1813?]
“Dost thou believe,” the Saviour said;
The trembling parent look'd around;
A thousand Wonders he survey'd,
And Hope and kindling faith he found.
The Sick, the blind, the Deaf, and Lame,
All whole and sound and light became;
He knew such power could not deceive
And answer'd, joyful, “I believe.”
The trembling parent look'd around;
A thousand Wonders he survey'd,
And Hope and kindling faith he found.
The Sick, the blind, the Deaf, and Lame,
All whole and sound and light became;
He knew such power could not deceive
And answer'd, joyful, “I believe.”
But, when he look'd his Heart within,
And saw the Darkness, felt the Shame,
The fear, the Dread, the Doubt, the Sin—
How cold and humble he became!
The former Joy was now suppress'd,
And grieving, guilty, and distress'd,
He added, in despairing Grief:
“Help thou, O Lord, mine Unbelief!”
And saw the Darkness, felt the Shame,
The fear, the Dread, the Doubt, the Sin—
How cold and humble he became!
The former Joy was now suppress'd,
And grieving, guilty, and distress'd,
He added, in despairing Grief:
“Help thou, O Lord, mine Unbelief!”
VERSES WRITTEN FOR THE DUKE OF RUTLAND'S BIRTHDAY.
(January 4, 1814.)
When Poets kindle at some noble View,
The Muse is said t'inspire the ardent Mind;
The Muse is feign'd, the Inspiration true;
Poets their Ardours in their Subjects find.
Yet he to whom the Noblest is assign'd
Must feel what much alarms him, yet delights:
His Views indeed are of a glorious Kind;
But there is danger in those lofty Flights,
And Hope and Fear at once each bold attempt excites.
The Muse is said t'inspire the ardent Mind;
The Muse is feign'd, the Inspiration true;
Poets their Ardours in their Subjects find.
Yet he to whom the Noblest is assign'd
Must feel what much alarms him, yet delights:
His Views indeed are of a glorious Kind;
But there is danger in those lofty Flights,
And Hope and Fear at once each bold attempt excites.
Be honour freely paid, where justly due;
And where is Honour due if here denied?
What happy Place can yield a nobler View?
In what fair Seat can nobler Race abide,
And o'er what happier Act can Man preside?
Place! Persons! Action! All engage the Mind,
And all the Heart with glad Emotions fill;
Where shall I Language for my Subject find;
Where glowing Thoughts, apt Words and curious Skill?
Oh[, that] the humble Verse could match th' inspiring Will!
And where is Honour due if here denied?
What happy Place can yield a nobler View?
In what fair Seat can nobler Race abide,
And o'er what happier Act can Man preside?
Place! Persons! Action! All engage the Mind,
And all the Heart with glad Emotions fill;
Where shall I Language for my Subject find;
Where glowing Thoughts, apt Words and curious Skill?
Oh[, that] the humble Verse could match th' inspiring Will!
500
Great Lady! Fair as great, and good as fair,
Receive a People's Praise, their Love, their Prayer;
Blest Parent to thy Granby, born to Shine
An Honour to thy Rutland's House and thine!
Accept the Homage grateful Numbers pay,
Exulting all in this triumphant Day;
When all in one event rejoice,
And mine is as the public Voice—
An Echo to the general Joy
That thanks thee for the noble Boy!
All join in Wishes for the generous Race,
That through revolving Ages it may run—
Blest each lov'd Daughter with the Mother's Grace
And with the Father's Virtue every Son;
Whilst [you, the] happy Parents, look around,
With love rewarded and with Honour crown'd.
Receive a People's Praise, their Love, their Prayer;
Blest Parent to thy Granby, born to Shine
An Honour to thy Rutland's House and thine!
Accept the Homage grateful Numbers pay,
Exulting all in this triumphant Day;
When all in one event rejoice,
And mine is as the public Voice—
An Echo to the general Joy
That thanks thee for the noble Boy!
All join in Wishes for the generous Race,
That through revolving Ages it may run—
Blest each lov'd Daughter with the Mother's Grace
And with the Father's Virtue every Son;
Whilst [you, the] happy Parents, look around,
With love rewarded and with Honour crown'd.
Who has not heard of [Howard's] noble Blood:
Which, tho' it cannot, as the Poet tells,
Ennoble Sots and Cowards, is a Flood
That Vice and Folly from the Soul repels;
And that which cannot the Disease endure
Is nobler still than if it wrought the Cure.
Which, tho' it cannot, as the Poet tells,
Ennoble Sots and Cowards, is a Flood
That Vice and Folly from the Soul repels;
And that which cannot the Disease endure
Is nobler still than if it wrought the Cure.
Howards were seen in Times of civil strife
In Honor's Cause to hazard all and bleed;
May Peace in England spare thy Granby's Life,
Since the same Cause would prompt the kindred Deed!
The Virtue still will in his Breast abide;
But Heaven forefend it be so harshly tried!
In Honor's Cause to hazard all and bleed;
May Peace in England spare thy Granby's Life,
Since the same Cause would prompt the kindred Deed!
The Virtue still will in his Breast abide;
But Heaven forefend it be so harshly tried!
Great Prince, the Ruler of a People free,
While bound in Duty and in love to Thee;
Supreme in Britain's happy Days;
Endued with Princely Grace and Power,
To win by Worth the Meed of Praise,
To share with Ease the festive Hour!
The Infant Granby thy Attention sees,
And smiles, the Tokens of his feeling shows,
As conscious of thy boundless Power to please,
And happy in the pleasing Debt he owes.
While bound in Duty and in love to Thee;
Supreme in Britain's happy Days;
Endued with Princely Grace and Power,
To win by Worth the Meed of Praise,
To share with Ease the festive Hour!
The Infant Granby thy Attention sees,
And smiles, the Tokens of his feeling shows,
As conscious of thy boundless Power to please,
And happy in the pleasing Debt he owes.
Soon shall his opening Mind for Knowledge seek,
When Time his Prince's Favours shall reveal;
And, what the infant Tongue wants Power to speak,
The grateful Man will never cease to feel.
The Royal Brother too appears
And to the Scene new Pleasure gives,
Past in One Day, but in successive Years
To be recorded long as Memory lives.
Belvoir! This Day shall be thy Boast and Pride,
While o'er the Subject Vale thy lofty Towers preside!
When Time his Prince's Favours shall reveal;
And, what the infant Tongue wants Power to speak,
The grateful Man will never cease to feel.
The Royal Brother too appears
And to the Scene new Pleasure gives,
Past in One Day, but in successive Years
To be recorded long as Memory lives.
Belvoir! This Day shall be thy Boast and Pride,
While o'er the Subject Vale thy lofty Towers preside!
501
And thou, the Father of a Noble Race,
In whom we now thy Form and Features trace,
But in succeeding years whose Worth shall shine
A just and fair Epitome of thine:
Behold thy Granby! His a Name
Already in the Rolls of Fame,
Not Plac'd amid a dubious Class—
Names heard but for the fleeting Day,
Who then to dark Oblivion pass.
This will no Time nor Accident decay,
Nor Envy blot, nor Malice tear away.
Such are the Men to whom, when troubles rise,
A prudent People turn their anxious Eyes;
Who love their Prince, and whom their Princes love;
The Wise and Virtuous ever but approve—
They who are stedfast in their Country's Cause,
The Sovereign's Power respect, nor less the Guarding Laws.
In whom we now thy Form and Features trace,
But in succeeding years whose Worth shall shine
A just and fair Epitome of thine:
Behold thy Granby! His a Name
Already in the Rolls of Fame,
Not Plac'd amid a dubious Class—
Names heard but for the fleeting Day,
Who then to dark Oblivion pass.
This will no Time nor Accident decay,
Nor Envy blot, nor Malice tear away.
Such are the Men to whom, when troubles rise,
A prudent People turn their anxious Eyes;
Who love their Prince, and whom their Princes love;
The Wise and Virtuous ever but approve—
They who are stedfast in their Country's Cause,
The Sovereign's Power respect, nor less the Guarding Laws.
Fresh as the Showers of Eden and as fair,
Thy lovely Daughters wake a Father's Pride.
Great were such gifts; and, if thou wish'd an Heir,
It was with Hope that still on Heaven relied—
Thankful if blest, and patient if denied.
Vast the Reward; for thee thy Granby lives,
And noble Promise of the future gives;
Strength, Health and Beauty in his Form combine,
And all the Grace that grows with ripening years;
The best Affections in his features shine,
And all that love could ask for he appears.
Thy lovely Daughters wake a Father's Pride.
Great were such gifts; and, if thou wish'd an Heir,
It was with Hope that still on Heaven relied—
Thankful if blest, and patient if denied.
Vast the Reward; for thee thy Granby lives,
And noble Promise of the future gives;
Strength, Health and Beauty in his Form combine,
And all the Grace that grows with ripening years;
The best Affections in his features shine,
And all that love could ask for he appears.
Be this blest Day in future Years renown'd,
Mark'd as the chosen, the auspicious One;
In this thy Birth the fondest Wishes crown'd—
And thou wert hail'd with joy th' expected Son;
Thou too wert Granby; but thy Fate
Soon gave thee Title to a greater Name.
Not so thy Granby—may his Change be late,
Differing in this, in all beside the same!
Let the same Honours on the Name attend;
As Life advances, may its Joys increase;
Upon its Progress may no cloud descend,
But, ris'n in glory, may it set in Peace;
And still another and another Race
Preserve the Honours of the Name and Place!
Mark'd as the chosen, the auspicious One;
In this thy Birth the fondest Wishes crown'd—
And thou wert hail'd with joy th' expected Son;
Thou too wert Granby; but thy Fate
Soon gave thee Title to a greater Name.
Not so thy Granby—may his Change be late,
Differing in this, in all beside the same!
Let the same Honours on the Name attend;
As Life advances, may its Joys increase;
Upon its Progress may no cloud descend,
But, ris'n in glory, may it set in Peace;
And still another and another Race
Preserve the Honours of the Name and Place!
See a third Parent Granby at thy Side,
Thy present Pleasure and thy future Pride,
Thy never failing Friend, thine ever watchful Guide!
The same her Title—Rutland's Princely Name,
That Sons of Kings alone with Manners claim.
Smile, Granby, now; thus only can'st thou prove
For her unwearied care awakening Love!
But, when succeeding Years impart
Strength to thy Form and Feeling to thy Heart,
Then shall her Value to the View arise,
That thou shalt dearly love and richly prize.
Nor shalt thou need a Verse to show
The Truths admiring Numbers know;
For, when the willing Muse is weak,
Then shall a thousand Voices speak.
Go, ask where Virtue, Beauty, Merit, dwell—
All that Mankind approve, applaud, revere—
And hear what Numbers shall delighted tell
Their Pride, Their Glory in a Name so dear!
Thy present Pleasure and thy future Pride,
Thy never failing Friend, thine ever watchful Guide!
The same her Title—Rutland's Princely Name,
That Sons of Kings alone with Manners claim.
Smile, Granby, now; thus only can'st thou prove
For her unwearied care awakening Love!
But, when succeeding Years impart
502
Then shall her Value to the View arise,
That thou shalt dearly love and richly prize.
Nor shalt thou need a Verse to show
The Truths admiring Numbers know;
For, when the willing Muse is weak,
Then shall a thousand Voices speak.
Go, ask where Virtue, Beauty, Merit, dwell—
All that Mankind approve, applaud, revere—
And hear what Numbers shall delighted tell
Their Pride, Their Glory in a Name so dear!
Heir to thy noble House, this Day to thee
Shall be, while Memory lives, a joyful Date;
Thou wilt look backward on the time, and see
The First, the Greatest, in the Church and State.
All take an Interest in their Granby's Fate:
What happy Infant in the World is found,
Whom so much Grace and Dignity surround?
What favour'd Being through his Life shall say:
“I had like Honours and as great a Day?”
Shall be, while Memory lives, a joyful Date;
Thou wilt look backward on the time, and see
The First, the Greatest, in the Church and State.
All take an Interest in their Granby's Fate:
What happy Infant in the World is found,
Whom so much Grace and Dignity surround?
What favour'd Being through his Life shall say:
“I had like Honours and as great a Day?”
Smile, Son of Rutland, in a Day of Bliss;
While Praise and grateful Thanks to Heaven arise,
And happy Nations for a Time like this
Make public Joy and private [sympathies].
As thou art nam'd, and each glad Voice repeats,
“Granby, the Heir of his Forefather's Fame!”
'Tis then the troubler of the World retreats
From his lost Kingdoms, fill'd with Rage and Shame;
Foil'd and disgrac'd, he to his People goes,
To veil his Loss and aggravate their Woes.
While Praise and grateful Thanks to Heaven arise,
And happy Nations for a Time like this
Make public Joy and private [sympathies].
As thou art nam'd, and each glad Voice repeats,
“Granby, the Heir of his Forefather's Fame!”
'Tis then the troubler of the World retreats
From his lost Kingdoms, fill'd with Rage and Shame;
Foil'd and disgrac'd, he to his People goes,
To veil his Loss and aggravate their Woes.
What Happy Language shall describe the Times,
When British Virtue bade the World be free,
Mark'd with a Tyrant's Fall, his Flight, his Crimes,
And with our Hope, Heaven-favour'd Boy, in thee?
Thus all Things happy in the Date agree,
When Charms that grace the Land, and Powers that sway,
Give Triumph to the Deed and Pleasure to the Day.
When British Virtue bade the World be free,
Mark'd with a Tyrant's Fall, his Flight, his Crimes,
And with our Hope, Heaven-favour'd Boy, in thee?
Thus all Things happy in the Date agree,
When Charms that grace the Land, and Powers that sway,
Give Triumph to the Deed and Pleasure to the Day.
MISS WALDRON'S BIRTHDAY.
(Dec. 18, 1815.)
How, my Marie, on this Day
Shall I my best good wishes pay?—
By asking of the Power above
All happiness for her I love.
The best of earthly Things would be
The Things that are denied to me:
503
That in each worldly Change endure;
The Competence that not on Friends,
But on a certainty, depends;
The Love for one in whom thy Choice
But ratifies the general Voice;
One who[se] Esteem will grow and last,
When passion's warmer Day is past—
And you have past more years than he
Who prays for all this good to thee—
He who will then have ceas'd to share
The common Lot of Grief and Care;
Whose Love will then be such as thou
Wilt not refuse—nor need'st thou now;
Though not perhaps to that dear Mind
Alone devoted and confined;
For, while this fleshly veil endure,
The best are but the least impure.
Yet, tho' not free from earthly Stain[s],
From Daily Jealousies and pains,
Still, before all itself approves,
Thy Happiness it seeks and loves.
It prays [for thee]: may every Day,
That takes some part of Life away,
To that immortal part supply
Some Virtue that will never die!
TO THE HON. MRS SPENCER.
(Written July 12, 1817, after a Visit to Petersham.)
That new-made Honour doth forget Men's Names,
Engrossed and happy in itself—is true;
But still my Want of Memory Pardon claims;
For mine is Honour great as well as new—
Honour to know, and to be known by, you.
Wonder not, then, that I should cast away
The common Stores that in the Memory grew;
That, George appearing, I should Richard say
Or tell the Moon's pale Light, “lo! thine the glorious Day!”
Engrossed and happy in itself—is true;
But still my Want of Memory Pardon claims;
For mine is Honour great as well as new—
Honour to know, and to be known by, you.
Wonder not, then, that I should cast away
The common Stores that in the Memory grew;
That, George appearing, I should Richard say
Or tell the Moon's pale Light, “lo! thine the glorious Day!”
But her best Treasures Memory still retains;
The Power of Beauty I remember yet;
Thy Smile for ever in the Soul remains,
And, though the Sun upon that Joy hath set,
Remembrance lives—it is my Pride, we met.
Oh! could I give that Day its proper Fame,
Not distant Ages should those Hours forget,
When I thy Friend—allow the Word—became;
And Honours new or old shall not efface that Name.
The Power of Beauty I remember yet;
Thy Smile for ever in the Soul remains,
And, though the Sun upon that Joy hath set,
Remembrance lives—it is my Pride, we met.
Oh! could I give that Day its proper Fame,
Not distant Ages should those Hours forget,
When I thy Friend—allow the Word—became;
And Honours new or old shall not efface that Name.
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AN INSCRIPTION AT GUY'S CLIFF.
(October 11, 1824.)
Ye who come with hallowed Feet
To this grave, Time-honoured Seat,
Sit [ye] down in Passion's Rest:
'Tis Peace who bids You here be bless'd!
Here is Silence and a Grove
That the pensive pleasures love;
Here are Meads and limpid Springs,
Where sportive Fancy strays and sings.
In living Rock the mossy Cave,
Silver Avon's sleeping Wave,
Solitude and Conscience clear,
And Quiet and the Muse, are here.
Then sit ye down, and know my Rest:
'Tis Peace who bids you here be bless'd!
To this grave, Time-honoured Seat,
Sit [ye] down in Passion's Rest:
'Tis Peace who bids You here be bless'd!
Here is Silence and a Grove
That the pensive pleasures love;
Here are Meads and limpid Springs,
Where sportive Fancy strays and sings.
In living Rock the mossy Cave,
Silver Avon's sleeping Wave,
Solitude and Conscience clear,
And Quiet and the Muse, are here.
Then sit ye down, and know my Rest:
'Tis Peace who bids you here be bless'd!
(By ------)
ADDITION TO THE FOREGOING VERSES.
Gentle Peace, Commands like thine
Every feeling Heart incline
To sit and to enjoy the Good
Of thy delicious Solitude;
Within thy favourite Scene to dwell
Thy Poet has described so well;
And feel how sweet it is to dream
By silver Avon's sober Stream,
While yet with silent Pace it moves
And prompts the Flight that Fancy loves.
Every feeling Heart incline
To sit and to enjoy the Good
Of thy delicious Solitude;
Within thy favourite Scene to dwell
Thy Poet has described so well;
And feel how sweet it is to dream
By silver Avon's sober Stream,
While yet with silent Pace it moves
And prompts the Flight that Fancy loves.
Here we survey each lovely Place;
The Rock, the Stream, the Mead admire;
Dwell on each unobtrusive Grace;
Then to the mossy Cave retire;
And sit us down at thy Request,
O gentle Power, and feel us blest.
But No! we own there is a Debt
We ought to pay and rest not yet;
Before thy Call can be obeyed,
That sacred Debt must first be paid;
For can we all these Blessings share
And not enquire—how came they there?
[Ere] Peace upon the Bosom steals,
It would express the Joy it feels;
Although the Eye delights to rove
In Scenes that all the Muses love.
Though much of Good these Views impart,
'Tis other Good that fills the Heart:
'Tis inbred Worth and feelings Kind,
With Manners that bespeak the Mind
Enriched, informed, replete, refined;
And Hospitality, that lives
Delighted with the Joy it gives;
And native Ease, and pure good Sense,
And unalloyed Benevolence.
To him, to her, who kindly press
Each Friend to share what they possess,
To them be all the Good each Heart
Desires so largely to impart;
And ever to their Hearts may flow
The Tide of Blessings they bestow!
With them may Peace, who loves to dwell
In mossy Cave and lonely Cell—
The Peace of Nature, she who loves
The quiet Streams and shady Groves—
May she within her Entrance find,
And there be lasting Peace of Mind!
The Rock, the Stream, the Mead admire;
Dwell on each unobtrusive Grace;
Then to the mossy Cave retire;
And sit us down at thy Request,
O gentle Power, and feel us blest.
But No! we own there is a Debt
We ought to pay and rest not yet;
Before thy Call can be obeyed,
That sacred Debt must first be paid;
For can we all these Blessings share
And not enquire—how came they there?
[Ere] Peace upon the Bosom steals,
It would express the Joy it feels;
Although the Eye delights to rove
In Scenes that all the Muses love.
Though much of Good these Views impart,
'Tis other Good that fills the Heart:
'Tis inbred Worth and feelings Kind,
With Manners that bespeak the Mind
Enriched, informed, replete, refined;
505
Delighted with the Joy it gives;
And native Ease, and pure good Sense,
And unalloyed Benevolence.
To him, to her, who kindly press
Each Friend to share what they possess,
To them be all the Good each Heart
Desires so largely to impart;
And ever to their Hearts may flow
The Tide of Blessings they bestow!
With them may Peace, who loves to dwell
In mossy Cave and lonely Cell—
The Peace of Nature, she who loves
The quiet Streams and shady Groves—
May she within her Entrance find,
And there be lasting Peace of Mind!
[ON A VIEW OF] BARFORD.
(October 11, 1824.)
When we the pictured Forms survey
Of Moated Hall or Castle grey,
Where ruined Walls and Towers declare
What once their noble Masters were—
Barons and Earls who, far from Court,
Prepared to meet their Country's Foes,
Her lawful Sovereigns to support,
And lawless Tyrants to oppose—
Of Moated Hall or Castle grey,
Where ruined Walls and Towers declare
What once their noble Masters were—
Barons and Earls who, far from Court,
Prepared to meet their Country's Foes,
Her lawful Sovereigns to support,
And lawless Tyrants to oppose—
Or when, presented to the Eye,
The antient Abbey we discry,
Whose sacred walls with awe profound
Possessed th' admiring people round:
There Fancy holy Men perceive[s],
Who slowly pace the Choir alone,
Or there the pensive Spirit leave,
To chaunt the Grace and dine at Noon.
The antient Abbey we discry,
Whose sacred walls with awe profound
Possessed th' admiring people round:
There Fancy holy Men perceive[s],
Who slowly pace the Choir alone,
Or there the pensive Spirit leave,
To chaunt the Grace and dine at Noon.
So this fair Artist, who has plan'd
This lovely Place with skilful Hand,
Has given us, by this outward Shew,
The sterling Worth within to know,
Here Memory dwells with vast Delight
On many an hospitable Deed;
While grateful Minds with Joy recite
From whom the bounteous Acts proceed.
This lovely Place with skilful Hand,
Has given us, by this outward Shew,
The sterling Worth within to know,
Here Memory dwells with vast Delight
On many an hospitable Deed;
While grateful Minds with Joy recite
From whom the bounteous Acts proceed.
A View, with so much Skill designed,
Shall through the Eye inform the Mind:
That Barford is the happy Seat
To which the Virtues all retreat,
And there, to every Grace allied,
With Peace and Elegance abide.
Shall through the Eye inform the Mind:
That Barford is the happy Seat
To which the Virtues all retreat,
And there, to every Grace allied,
With Peace and Elegance abide.
506
BROMPTON PARK COTTAGE.
(1824.)
Fair Cottage—if indeed that Name
To so much Beauty may belong—
Would I could give thee lasting Fame
And pay thee with a grateful Song!
To so much Beauty may belong—
Would I could give thee lasting Fame
And pay thee with a grateful Song!
Here Health, the Grace of Life, abides;
In every Walk and View is found;
O'er every Tree and Shrub presides,
And Breathes her Animation round.
In every Walk and View is found;
O'er every Tree and Shrub presides,
And Breathes her Animation round.
Languid I came, as One who feels
Oppressed by long and slow Disease,
Which neither Time nor Medicine heals,
When Hope and Fancy fail to please.
Oppressed by long and slow Disease,
Which neither Time nor Medicine heals,
When Hope and Fancy fail to please.
“When shall these clouded Spirits rise,
“And all their Native Force impart?
“When shall gay Objects greet the Eyes,
“And a light Spirit fill the Heart?”
“And all their Native Force impart?
“When shall gay Objects greet the Eyes,
“And a light Spirit fill the Heart?”
I said, and heard or seemed to hear
In gentle Sounds a soft Reply:
“To Brompton Park,” it said, “repair;
“And We shall meet, for there am I.
In gentle Sounds a soft Reply:
“To Brompton Park,” it said, “repair;
“And We shall meet, for there am I.
“The Lord of that fair Scene for Thee
“Shall with delight the Way prepare,
“All at thy sole Command to be,
“Till I be thy Attendant there.
“Shall with delight the Way prepare,
“All at thy sole Command to be,
“Till I be thy Attendant there.
“For all in that pure Air is mine.
“Go then, and there my Blessing seek!
“My Spirit in Thine Eye shall shine,
“My Roses blossom on Thy Cheek.”
“Go then, and there my Blessing seek!
“My Spirit in Thine Eye shall shine,
“My Roses blossom on Thy Cheek.”
Thus Health on slumbering Fancy wrought;
Thus promised We should quickly meet;
I came, as She required, and sought
And found Her in Her Favourite Seat.
Thus promised We should quickly meet;
I came, as She required, and sought
And found Her in Her Favourite Seat.
This Scene Sophia's Pencil drew,
Not for its many Charms Alone;
But much She felt, and well She knew,
What good this favourite Spot had done.
Not for its many Charms Alone;
But much She felt, and well She knew,
What good this favourite Spot had done.
507
Say Ye, who see Her gently move,
Who know Her many Powers to please,
Who hear the general Voice approve:
What need of adding Arts like These?
Who know Her many Powers to please,
Who hear the general Voice approve:
What need of adding Arts like These?
Yet these She has, and adds to these
Much that can win the Heart and bind;
Much that has power t' attract and please,
To charm the Sense and rule the Mind.
Much that can win the Heart and bind;
Much that has power t' attract and please,
To charm the Sense and rule the Mind.
Graceful in all she does, as they
Who round the Queen of Beauty move;
And, cautious, those should keep away
Who know and fear the Power of Love;
Who round the Queen of Beauty move;
And, cautious, those should keep away
Who know and fear the Power of Love;
Who cannot in that Form and Face,
Where all is graceful, all is fair,
The noble Stem of Granby trace,
And see the Worth of Manners there!
Where all is graceful, all is fair,
The noble Stem of Granby trace,
And see the Worth of Manners there!
'Tis her fair hand these forms bestow,
These flowing Lines to Nature true;
But who in equal Verse can shew
The Wonders that her Eyes can do?
These flowing Lines to Nature true;
But who in equal Verse can shew
The Wonders that her Eyes can do?
[MOMENTARY GRIEF.]
(Aldborough, 1825.)
Creator, Father, Lord, it is Thy Will,
It is Thy Act; and Thou canst do [no ill;]
The time may come when [things] that [grievous seem]
Will be the Trouble of a feverish Dream;
And that which now such Grief and Sorrow brings
Shall be the Solace of the Heart it wrings.
We our Impressions from the Moment take,
And know not why we grieve, till we Awake.
LA FEMME JALOUSE (TENIERS).
(Nov. 1826.)
Who shall describe what Pains they share,
Whom Doubts and jealous Terrors prove;
Who in their every Look declare
How much they feel, how much they love!
Whom Doubts and jealous Terrors prove;
Who in their every Look declare
How much they feel, how much they love!
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Thy Pencil here, fair Artist, shews
One Form the Tyrant-Passion wears;
But sure thy happier Bosom knows
No jealous Pangs, no trying Fears!
One Form the Tyrant-Passion wears;
But sure thy happier Bosom knows
No jealous Pangs, no trying Fears!
But, [though] thy Work demands our Praise,
Yet why thine own the Subject make?
Thou may'st indeed the Spirit raise,
But not thyself th' Infection take.
Yet why thine own the Subject make?
Thou may'st indeed the Spirit raise,
But not thyself th' Infection take.
Those Looks so pure, so bright, so clear,
Those ruby Lips and Eyes of Light,
Will many an anxious Hope and Fear
And many a jealous Pang excite.
Those ruby Lips and Eyes of Light,
Will many an anxious Hope and Fear
And many a jealous Pang excite.
Those Pangs which none can long conceal,
Disguise in Smiles or rule by Laws—
Some cause Them, but They cannot feel;
Some feel Them, but they cannot cause.
Disguise in Smiles or rule by Laws—
Some cause Them, but They cannot feel;
Some feel Them, but they cannot cause.
Thou from such cruel Pains art free,
By which the Heart of Man is tried;
For that which may be won by thee
[With] thee will, while it beats, abide.
By which the Heart of Man is tried;
For that which may be won by thee
[With] thee will, while it beats, abide.
[THE FLOWERS OF THE SPRING.]
The Crocus, new expanded, mourns
Her Fate, and many a tear is shed;
Lest, when Maria home returns,
Her transient Sweets should all be [sped].
Her Fate, and many a tear is shed;
Lest, when Maria home returns,
Her transient Sweets should all be [sped].
The Vi'let yet remains unclos'd,
Nor gives her fragrance to the Gale;
But soon, to every Eye expos'd,
She must her balmy breath exhale.
Nor gives her fragrance to the Gale;
But soon, to every Eye expos'd,
She must her balmy breath exhale.
Then come, ere yet the wandering Bee,
Has all her hoarded wealth possess'd;
While yet she holds her Sweets for thee
Enfolded in her Azure Vest!
Has all her hoarded wealth possess'd;
While yet she holds her Sweets for thee
Enfolded in her Azure Vest!
For, tho' we cannot yet describe
The Bloom that warmer Scenes unfold,
We now can boast a lovely Tribe
That bare their bosoms to the Cold.
The Bloom that warmer Scenes unfold,
We now can boast a lovely Tribe
That bare their bosoms to the Cold.
These Children of the early Year
Must soon their rip'ning Charm[s] disclose;
Then, while they live, do thou appear;
In mercy, wait not for the rose!
Must soon their rip'ning Charm[s] disclose;
Then, while they live, do thou appear;
In mercy, wait not for the rose!
509
[LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI.]
[OMITTED]
And prophecied of years to come,
Whence hapless youth would date their Doom:
“Is this her praise, is this her Due,
“Whom all admire, esteem, approve?
“And, if you say the Charge is true,
“Is it her Crime, if Men will love?
“If they will gaze where Bullets fly,
“No wonder they are struck and die.”
Whence hapless youth would date their Doom:
“Is this her praise, is this her Due,
“Whom all admire, esteem, approve?
“And, if you say the Charge is true,
“Is it her Crime, if Men will love?
“If they will gaze where Bullets fly,
“No wonder they are struck and die.”
Not so the Muse the Murd'ress reads;
Alas! she glories in her Deeds.
Observe her Looks, remark her Air:
Lo! all is wicked Triumph there.
Alas! she glories in her Deeds.
Observe her Looks, remark her Air:
Lo! all is wicked Triumph there.
Could I but think, on this same day,
She would with some Contrition pray,
That never she again would take
A Captive Heart or Conquest make;
But would with penitential Sighs
Veil that fair face, hide those bright Eyes;
Command that Wit, and try her best
To let poor gazing Mortals rest—
Then would I all these Charges blot,
And all the past should be forgot!
She would with some Contrition pray,
That never she again would take
A Captive Heart or Conquest make;
But would with penitential Sighs
Veil that fair face, hide those bright Eyes;
Command that Wit, and try her best
To let poor gazing Mortals rest—
Then would I all these Charges blot,
And all the past should be forgot!
Alas! I see no Signs of Grace:
Still there is Triumph in her face;
And on this very Day we find
The same her Form, the same her Mind!
Still there is Triumph in her face;
And on this very Day we find
The same her Form, the same her Mind!
Then, since the Fair affects her Reign,
'Tis bootless that her Slaves complain.
At once, then, let them own her power,
And hail the Day and bless the Hour,
That to the World a Sovereign gave,
Who, though she will mankind enslave,
Yet rules she with so sweet a Sway,
'Tis Pride, 'tis pleasure to obey!—
'Tis bootless that her Slaves complain.
At once, then, let them own her power,
And hail the Day and bless the Hour,
That to the World a Sovereign gave,
Who, though she will mankind enslave,
Yet rules she with so sweet a Sway,
'Tis Pride, 'tis pleasure to obey!—
510
[HOPELESS LOVE.]
Why wilt thou thus our Hopes defeat,
My too impatient, pleading heart?
Why shew in us such Joy to meet,
Yet fear in her 'tis Joy to part?
My too impatient, pleading heart?
Why shew in us such Joy to meet,
Yet fear in her 'tis Joy to part?
For what has our Impatience gain'd,
But more to fear the fate to come;
While, half-respected, half-disdain'd,
We trembling wait the dreaded Doom?
But more to fear the fate to come;
While, half-respected, half-disdain'd,
We trembling wait the dreaded Doom?
Can'st thou support that grievous State
That Hearts like thee too often prove,
The darkest, the severest Fate—
An endless, joyless, hopeless Love?—
That Hearts like thee too often prove,
The darkest, the severest Fate—
An endless, joyless, hopeless Love?—
She may indeed with pitying Smile
The pain she causes kindly meet;
May sweetly soothe our Woes awhile,
And hold us fast in Bondage sweet.
The pain she causes kindly meet;
May sweetly soothe our Woes awhile,
And hold us fast in Bondage sweet.
May yield the Hand, may drop the Tear,
And with Reproof Compassion blend—
Then, with harsh Looks and Words severe,
May drop into the distant Friend.
And with Reproof Compassion blend—
Then, with harsh Looks and Words severe,
May drop into the distant Friend.
For then some happier Man may wake
The slumbering Wish, the new Desire;
When she the offer'd Hand may take
And give the Heart his prayers require.
The slumbering Wish, the new Desire;
When she the offer'd Hand may take
And give the Heart his prayers require.
And then what Pangs wilt thou endure,
When all the Friendship she can spare
Will grieve the Wound it cannot cure,
And mock the Love it will not share;
When all the Friendship she can spare
Will grieve the Wound it cannot cure,
And mock the Love it will not share;
While his triumphant Looks convey
The proud Delight that fills his breast,
And those dear Eyes themselves betray
The Thoughts not yet by Words confest.
The proud Delight that fills his breast,
And those dear Eyes themselves betray
The Thoughts not yet by Words confest.
O Jealousy, severest Ill
That suffering Man is doom'd to know,
That so the Root of Joy can kill
The fruit again can never Grow!
That suffering Man is doom'd to know,
That so the Root of Joy can kill
The fruit again can never Grow!
Yet still there is a Way to heal
[All that] I suffer, dread, deplore;
Since, what is worse than Death to feel,
In Death will soon be felt no more.
[All that] I suffer, dread, deplore;
Since, what is worse than Death to feel,
In Death will soon be felt no more.
511
[UNION.]
Say, when I leave thee, Love, wilt thouSome moments to my Love allow,
And his in this fond Absence be
Who lives and who would die for thee?
And, when thy Friends adjure thee, “Come,
“And leave thy pensive thoughts at home”—
Wilt thou reply, in that sweet tone:
“The Man who loves me thinks alone,
“And thinks of me with many a sigh;
“In all his Visions there am I;
“For me one constant wish he forms,
“To shield me from Life's Cares and Storms;
“Still Watchful at my Side to stand
“And still present the guarding Hand.
“For I can feel no Grief nor Care
“But he would heal or he would share;
“And never Joy could touch an Heart
“That he would not to mine impart.
“Then say, tho' I confess not Love,
“If this should not my Bosom move?
“Shall I not his one Instant be,
“Who lives and who would die for me?”
[REVIVAL.]
(Sept. 29–30.)
Say, can there be a second Spring
Thus fair and frail, so gay and brief;
Will Time the autumnal Blossom bring
To glow beside the with'ring Leaf?
No, no! the Voice of Nature cries:
“The Flower that's dead for ever dies.”
Thus fair and frail, so gay and brief;
Will Time the autumnal Blossom bring
To glow beside the with'ring Leaf?
No, no! the Voice of Nature cries:
“The Flower that's dead for ever dies.”
Say, can a second Youth be felt
Again its freshness to impart;
To bid Life's freezing Current melt;
To thrill with Joy the languid Heart?
No, no! Youth's Warmth and rosy Hue
Shall Time no more in Life renew.
Again its freshness to impart;
To bid Life's freezing Current melt;
To thrill with Joy the languid Heart?
No, no! Youth's Warmth and rosy Hue
Shall Time no more in Life renew.
Yet Love shall have another Spring
And, more than Nature's, fair and gay;
A second Hope of Blessing bring
That seemed with Youth to fly away:
It is the Mind that makes the Truth,
And feels again the Spring of Youth!
And, more than Nature's, fair and gay;
A second Hope of Blessing bring
That seemed with Youth to fly away:
It is the Mind that makes the Truth,
And feels again the Spring of Youth!
512
Love can awaken all the Fires
That dormant in the Bosom lie;
Love every sleeping Sense inspires
To feel new Charms when Nature's die;
He all around his Magic throws
And all that he [can give] bestows.
That dormant in the Bosom lie;
Love every sleeping Sense inspires
To feel new Charms when Nature's die;
He all around his Magic throws
And all that he [can give] bestows.
[METAMORPHOSIS.]
When Damon woo'd the growing Charms
Of lovely Celi[a] to his Arms,
He lived in Dread the While;
He trembled at a Rival's Name
And felt Distress, if any came
To catch a transient Smile.
Of lovely Celi[a] to his Arms,
He lived in Dread the While;
He trembled at a Rival's Name
And felt Distress, if any came
To catch a transient Smile.
The gentle Maid at Length complied;
And “why is Damon hurt?” she cry'd,
“That I his Rivals see?”
“Because I dread,” [said he, “my Dear,]
“[Thy Person] should to them appear
“As it appears to me.”—
And “why is Damon hurt?” she cry'd,
“That I his Rivals see?”
“Because I dread,” [said he, “my Dear,]
“[Thy Person] should to them appear
“As it appears to me.”—
They married, and their Love decay'd;
For then the Slattern Wife repaid
The Husband's Scorn and Slight;
While he to other Scenes retir'd,
And kept her whom he once admir'd
From every Stranger's Sight.
For then the Slattern Wife repaid
The Husband's Scorn and Slight;
While he to other Scenes retir'd,
And kept her whom he once admir'd
From every Stranger's Sight.
But “why,” the Wife indignant cry'd,
“Am I insulted and denied
“Our Friends or Foes to see?”—
“Because I feel a prudent fear
“[Thy] Person should to all appear
“As it appears to me.”
“Am I insulted and denied
“Our Friends or Foes to see?”—
“Because I feel a prudent fear
“[Thy] Person should to all appear
“As it appears to me.”
JANE ADAIR.
Wert thou, my Love, some Vagrant Maid
Who beg'd from Door to Door,
And wert thou then of Vice afraid,
And good as well as poor:
I still would true and faithful prove
And Fortune's Wrongs repair;
I'd lead thee to the Altar, Love,
And wed with Jane Adair.
Who beg'd from Door to Door,
And wert thou then of Vice afraid,
And good as well as poor:
I still would true and faithful prove
And Fortune's Wrongs repair;
I'd lead thee to the Altar, Love,
And wed with Jane Adair.
513
Wert thou a Lady of the Land,
Thy Charm should be my theme;
Still would I ask that lovely Hand,
Still woo thy fond Esteem;
Thro' Rivals I would win my Way
To one so good and fair;
And do the Deeds I dare not say,
To wed with Jane Adair.
Thy Charm should be my theme;
Still would I ask that lovely Hand,
Still woo thy fond Esteem;
Thro' Rivals I would win my Way
To one so good and fair;
And do the Deeds I dare not say,
To wed with Jane Adair.
The Treasures that in Mountains hide
Adventurous Men explore;
Or deep in cavern'd Mines abide,
And dig the glittering ore;
And shall the Wretch who toils for gain
More persevering be
Than I, who labour to obtain
Love, Happiness, and thee?
Adventurous Men explore;
Or deep in cavern'd Mines abide,
And dig the glittering ore;
And shall the Wretch who toils for gain
More persevering be
Than I, who labour to obtain
Love, Happiness, and thee?
[HORATIO.]
Might I from all Mankind select
The Friend, I would Horatio take.
What gentler Mind could I expect?
What nobler Conquest could I make?
The Friend, I would Horatio take.
What gentler Mind could I expect?
What nobler Conquest could I make?
Was he not One who, suffering all
Yet kept his rising Anger down;
Nor felt his Spirits rise or fall,
As Fortune pleas'd to smile or frown?
Yet kept his rising Anger down;
Nor felt his Spirits rise or fall,
As Fortune pleas'd to smile or frown?
He was no Pipe on which she play'd,
As her capricious Hand inclin'd;
But that sweet Music that he made
Rose from his own harmonious Mind.
As her capricious Hand inclin'd;
But that sweet Music that he made
Rose from his own harmonious Mind.
Aspiring, yet he never gave
Himself to watch a Patron's Will;
Tender, but yet no Beauty's Slave,
Nor Victim to coquettish Skill.
Himself to watch a Patron's Will;
Tender, but yet no Beauty's Slave,
Nor Victim to coquettish Skill.
Humble, and with high Talents born;
Prepar'd alternate Fates to try;
A Roman holding Death in Scorn;
A Chieftain learning how to die.
Prepar'd alternate Fates to try;
A Roman holding Death in Scorn;
A Chieftain learning how to die.
“Something too much of this!” Yet, then
How shall I thoughts like mine explain?
How inexpert a Maiden's pen,
Since more than this I write in vain!
How shall I thoughts like mine explain?
How inexpert a Maiden's pen,
Since more than this I write in vain!
514
“But can the Friend of Denmark's Prince
“Such fond and strange Emotions give;
“Whose Death or happen'd Ages since,
“Or who was never known to live?”
“Such fond and strange Emotions give;
“Whose Death or happen'd Ages since,
“Or who was never known to live?”
Yes, Souls alike in Times appear
Far distant, minds of mould divine:
The Friend whom Hamlet priz'd so dear,
[Horatio—is a friend of mine.]
Far distant, minds of mould divine:
The Friend whom Hamlet priz'd so dear,
[Horatio—is a friend of mine.]
[JACOB AND RACHEL.]
When Jacob with his Rachel fed
The flock from year to year,
To him how sweet the Seasons fled;
And so it seem'd to her.
The flock from year to year,
To him how sweet the Seasons fled;
And so it seem'd to her.
But wretched was the Shepherd's fate,
And sorely was he tried,
When he beheld, in sober state,
That Leah was his Bride.
And sorely was he tried,
When he beheld, in sober state,
That Leah was his Bride.
But Leah, who to Jacob seem'd
A Wife he could not prize,
Had yet the Virtues that redeem'd
The weakness of her Eyes.
A Wife he could not prize,
Had yet the Virtues that redeem'd
The weakness of her Eyes.
But Jacob's love, and Laban's flock,
And Labours for their Sake,
Took all the Terror from the Shock
That Care and Time could take.
And Labours for their Sake,
Took all the Terror from the Shock
That Care and Time could take.
It was poor Rachel's harder part
Her Love, her Lord to [lose],
And in an Instant rob her Heart
Of Life's delicious Views.
Her Love, her Lord to [lose],
And in an Instant rob her Heart
Of Life's delicious Views.
She ofttimes up the mountain went,
With bitter thoughts opprest,
And weeping saw the Shepherd's Tent
Her Sister now possess'd.
With bitter thoughts opprest,
And weeping saw the Shepherd's Tent
Her Sister now possess'd.
Leah, she knew, would faithful prove,
And Jacob would give Truth applause;
And, when he once had vow'd to love,
He for his vow would find a Cause.—
And Jacob would give Truth applause;
And, when he once had vow'd to love,
He for his vow would find a Cause.—
Thou too art wed to Duty stern,
And to thy Vow wilt prove sincere;
And I, like Rachel, doom'd to [yearn],
Victim to Virtues I revere.
And to thy Vow wilt prove sincere;
And I, like Rachel, doom'd to [yearn],
Victim to Virtues I revere.
But she had Hope the Time would come,
And Jacob would for her be free;
Mine is an ever-during Doom,
And not a Hope remains for me.
And Jacob would for her be free;
Mine is an ever-during Doom,
And not a Hope remains for me.
515
[DAVID AND SAUL.]
When David fled from Saul oppress'd,
Who should have held the Shepherd dear,
He carried Patience in his breast,
And Conscience light, a heavenly Guest;
He fear'd not, nor had Cause of fear.
Who should have held the Shepherd dear,
He carried Patience in his breast,
And Conscience light, a heavenly Guest;
He fear'd not, nor had Cause of fear.
But, when he fled the holy Place
In horror from his rebel Son,
He carried Terror and Disgrace;
Nor could a gleam of Comfort trace
In all the battles he had won.
In horror from his rebel Son,
He carried Terror and Disgrace;
Nor could a gleam of Comfort trace
In all the battles he had won.
But, as upon his Throne he shook,
With present Love and Glory crown'd,
The one stern word the Prophet spoke
At once into his Bosom broke
To fright, alarm him, and confound.
With present Love and Glory crown'd,
The one stern word the Prophet spoke
At once into his Bosom broke
To fright, alarm him, and confound.
Thus injur'd, I my Peace retain
And feel from Guilt and Terror free;
But, should I injure Man again,
I should in fear and Dread remain,
Tho' cheer'd with wealth and blest by thee.
And feel from Guilt and Terror free;
But, should I injure Man again,
I should in fear and Dread remain,
Tho' cheer'd with wealth and blest by thee.
ENIGMA.
(Sovereign.)
I was known in old Time; and yet, strange to [relate],'Tis a very few years from my very first [state].
When I travel—'tis seldom—my Way you may trace;
Yet I'm constantly secretly changing my Place;
I'm weak, and I'm wise; I have Praise and have Blame;
Yet at all times my Value and Worth is the same.
I Nobles create; and yet any of these
May consume and abuse me as much as they please.
Though I Millions command, yet the Poorest may gain
And possess me awhile, though they seldom retain.
Tho' I've Equals ten thousand, all over the Land,
Yet One Crown I possess and have four at Command.
One part of my Character All Men may read,
And that only from such Contradictions is freed:
Who counterfeits me, stakes his Life on the Deed.
516
CHARADE.
(Modesty.)
My first, a fashion; next, a placeThat fashion never came to grace;
But few who dwell in Houses fair
Thrive like the well-fed Beings there.
My whole, a Virtue and a Grace
Adorns the Mind, [adorns] the face.
[MATILDA.]
I tell you chearful Tales, with all my Heart—
Tales meet for Feasts, with idle Mirth and Glee;
But Woes come in, and they will claim a part—
A woeful part—with my sad muse and me.
Tales meet for Feasts, with idle Mirth and Glee;
But Woes come in, and they will claim a part—
A woeful part—with my sad muse and me.
Matilda was sitting at Brandon-Hall,
And gazed on a River that rolled in its pride,
Like an Arm of the Sea—if aloud you would call,
You could not be heard to the farthermost side.
She there saw the Ships in their Majesty glide,
And Boats born along by the Sail and the Oar;
And her Colin was there, and the boy she denied;
But he said, “Let him come—on my Life, I restore.
And gazed on a River that rolled in its pride,
Like an Arm of the Sea—if aloud you would call,
You could not be heard to the farthermost side.
She there saw the Ships in their Majesty glide,
And Boats born along by the Sail and the Oar;
And her Colin was there, and the boy she denied;
But he said, “Let him come—on my Life, I restore.
“Do give me the Boy, and no longer reprove;
“And, if I return him not safe to your Arms,
“The Blame shall be mine; and the penalty, love,
“For giving that Bosom such painful Alarms,
“Shall be to be banished and torn from your Charms;
“Nor think of [the] Danger, or aught that affright;
“But, assured that my Love shall protect him from Harms,
“Give place for the Day—we'll be happy at Night.”
“And, if I return him not safe to your Arms,
“The Blame shall be mine; and the penalty, love,
“For giving that Bosom such painful Alarms,
“Shall be to be banished and torn from your Charms;
“Nor think of [the] Danger, or aught that affright;
“But, assured that my Love shall protect him from Harms,
“Give place for the Day—we'll be happy at Night.”
She again took her Glass; and the Boat she could trace,
For the Gunwale was painted in white and in blue;
She distinguished the pair whom she longed to embrace,
And the Features of Colin were full in her View.
Then awhile from the Pleasure she sadly withdrew,
And forc'd her Attention on trifles that past;
“Oh, harder it blows!” she exclaim'd—it was true,
And Clouds roll'd on Clouds by the Strength of the Blast.
For the Gunwale was painted in white and in blue;
She distinguished the pair whom she longed to embrace,
And the Features of Colin were full in her View.
Then awhile from the Pleasure she sadly withdrew,
And forc'd her Attention on trifles that past;
“Oh, harder it blows!” she exclaim'd—it was true,
And Clouds roll'd on Clouds by the Strength of the Blast.
517
She gazes intensely; “['Tis] danger,” she cried;
And a Youth who had been a whole Summer at sea
Repeats the word “Danger!” in wonderful Pride,
And asks her what manner of “Danger” could be.
She knew not; but doubted; the Shore on the Lea
Was lost in her troubles—she wished them on shore:
There in Cold they would rest, but in safety would be,
And the Tide would her Treasures in safety restore.
And a Youth who had been a whole Summer at sea
Repeats the word “Danger!” in wonderful Pride,
And asks her what manner of “Danger” could be.
She knew not; but doubted; the Shore on the Lea
Was lost in her troubles—she wished them on shore:
There in Cold they would rest, but in safety would be,
And the Tide would her Treasures in safety restore.
I dwell on the Confines of Anguish, but still
Must plunge in the Midst; for the wife has again
The Tube in her Hand! 'Tis her Dread, but her Will,
To fix on the Object that gives her such pain.
She finds to relinquish the Sight is in vain,
And this moment she gazes; but, what to behold,
It pierces her Soul, it unsettles her Brain—
The Boat is o'erset!—and her Story is told.
Must plunge in the Midst; for the wife has again
The Tube in her Hand! 'Tis her Dread, but her Will,
To fix on the Object that gives her such pain.
She finds to relinquish the Sight is in vain,
And this moment she gazes; but, what to behold,
It pierces her Soul, it unsettles her Brain—
The Boat is o'erset!—and her Story is told.
She saw both the Husband and Child in the boat;
She saw the effect of the Blast as it blew;
And she sees in her Sorrow their Bodies [afloat],
And she draws in her Madness the Boat and its Crew.
'Tis a Grief to behold her so calmly pursue
Her Tale that she tells, and is eager to tell;
And she says, when she tells it—“Indeed, it is true—
“And I wonder I bear it so calmly and well!”
She saw the effect of the Blast as it blew;
And she sees in her Sorrow their Bodies [afloat],
And she draws in her Madness the Boat and its Crew.
'Tis a Grief to behold her so calmly pursue
Her Tale that she tells, and is eager to tell;
And she says, when she tells it—“Indeed, it is true—
“And I wonder I bear it so calmly and well!”
THE PRODIGAL GOING.
What! live for ever buried thus,
Thus all the Hope of Youth destroy—
Here the poor Business to discuss
Of a poor Farm! a Slave's Employ!
For ever to be held a Boy
And leave to live of Man implore—
No! let me Life's delights enjoy,
And be a Man, or be no more
A Wretch to wail in Woe!
My Spirit prompts, my Heart desires,
My Will consents, my Youth requires
And I will go—
Thus all the Hope of Youth destroy—
Here the poor Business to discuss
Of a poor Farm! a Slave's Employ!
For ever to be held a Boy
And leave to live of Man implore—
No! let me Life's delights enjoy,
And be a Man, or be no more
A Wretch to wail in Woe!
My Spirit prompts, my Heart desires,
My Will consents, my Youth requires
And I will go—
Will go where happy beings dwell,
Unchain'd, unawed, and uncontrolled;
Where no harsh, rigid Minds repell,
With Tempers stern and Bosoms cold,
The Light, the Gay, the Warm, the Bold,
But Love meets Love, Desire Success;
Where none are frigid Maxims told;
Th' aspiring Spirit to depress
By Prudence, Pleasure's Foe;
And Mary too, capricious Maid,
With Smiles alone invites my stay;
But Timid, cautious, cold, afraid,
For more than Smiles I vainly pray.
Fond, Teizing, trifling Love, away!
No longer will I sigh and whine;
No longer doat from day to day;
Henceforth the genuine Love be mine,
That spurns and dreads Delay!
'Tis Nature's strong, prevailing Call
That pleads within, that pleads with all,
That I obey!
Unchain'd, unawed, and uncontrolled;
Where no harsh, rigid Minds repell,
With Tempers stern and Bosoms cold,
The Light, the Gay, the Warm, the Bold,
But Love meets Love, Desire Success;
Where none are frigid Maxims told;
518
By Prudence, Pleasure's Foe;
And Mary too, capricious Maid,
With Smiles alone invites my stay;
But Timid, cautious, cold, afraid,
For more than Smiles I vainly pray.
Fond, Teizing, trifling Love, away!
No longer will I sigh and whine;
No longer doat from day to day;
Henceforth the genuine Love be mine,
That spurns and dreads Delay!
'Tis Nature's strong, prevailing Call
That pleads within, that pleads with all,
That I obey!
So thought the Youth who from his home retired,
Because it gave not all his Soul required;
For strong his Passions were, and quickly were they fired.
Affection reasoned; but the Youth replied
To reasoning Love, “I will not be denied!”
Because it gave not all his Soul required;
For strong his Passions were, and quickly were they fired.
Affection reasoned; but the Youth replied
To reasoning Love, “I will not be denied!”
ON A DRAWING OF CADLANDS.
Oft as the Eye on this fair View
Shall gaze, on every part intent,
Shall Memory, to Affection true,
Her Object to the Mind present.
Shall gaze, on every part intent,
Shall Memory, to Affection true,
Her Object to the Mind present.
These Lights and Shades, with Skill combin'd,
Aid us to see the real Place;
And, pleased with her Employ, the Mind
That Scene of Joy delights to trace.
Aid us to see the real Place;
And, pleased with her Employ, the Mind
That Scene of Joy delights to trace.
Daughter of Rutland, 'twas thy Hand
Gave us this lovely Place to see;
But who shall Grace and Skill command
To give as just a View of thee?
Gave us this lovely Place to see;
But who shall Grace and Skill command
To give as just a View of thee?
To paint thee fair is not enough,
With every pleasing Grace endued;
But he must give of Genius proof,
And shew thee gracious, kind and good.
With every pleasing Grace endued;
But he must give of Genius proof,
And shew thee gracious, kind and good.
I saw thee in thy Infant Days,
When every Charm a promise made,
That thou wouldst merit lasting Praise—
And lo! the Promise more than paid.
When every Charm a promise made,
That thou wouldst merit lasting Praise—
And lo! the Promise more than paid.
519
I saw thee in thy youthful Bloom
With much delight, but no Surprise;
It was another Rutland come
To cheer our hearts and charm our Eyes.
With much delight, but no Surprise;
It was another Rutland come
To cheer our hearts and charm our Eyes.
Fairest among the Fair was she;
And ardent is my Hope that thou
In thy maternal years [may'st] be
What she, her Sex's Pride, is now.
And ardent is my Hope that thou
In thy maternal years [may'st] be
What she, her Sex's Pride, is now.
[ON] A DRAWING, BY THE HON. MRS SMITH (ELIZA FORRESTER).
When we behold a Landscape well designed,
Our praise at once we on the Work bestow;
We see the image of so just a Mind,
And 'tis the Merit, not the Man, we know.
Our praise at once we on the Work bestow;
We see the image of so just a Mind,
And 'tis the Merit, not the Man, we know.
But when we learn from where our Pleasure springs,
And whose the Skill that here the Proof has placed:
This to our Mind a double Pleasure brings,
For 'tis Affection looks as well as Taste.
And whose the Skill that here the Proof has placed:
This to our Mind a double Pleasure brings,
For 'tis Affection looks as well as Taste.
They who have Wealth may hire an Artist's Hand.
And may the Gallery and the Hall supply;
But Love alone can Views like this command:
Affection gives what Wealth can never buy.
And may the Gallery and the Hall supply;
But Love alone can Views like this command:
Affection gives what Wealth can never buy.
Pictures and Prints the Wealthy may obtain
And, as their Pleasure dictates, may remove;
But these fair Views for ever shall remain,
The rich Memorials of Taste and Love.
And, as their Pleasure dictates, may remove;
But these fair Views for ever shall remain,
The rich Memorials of Taste and Love.
These flowing lines confess Eliza's Hand;
She formed the Wood, the Water, and the Sky;
For she can all the pleasing arts command
That soothe the Fancy and that charm the Eye.
She formed the Wood, the Water, and the Sky;
For she can all the pleasing arts command
That soothe the Fancy and that charm the Eye.
All the fair Arts that give a Grace to Life
Are hers: she sings, she speaks, she moves with Grace;
Nor charms she less, the Mother and the Wife,
And still maintains the Virtues of her Race.
Are hers: she sings, she speaks, she moves with Grace;
Nor charms she less, the Mother and the Wife,
And still maintains the Virtues of her Race.
Happy the fair Possessor of that Skill—
When Life's Endowment, but not Life's Employ;
When used for Pleasure and resigned at Will,
The aid of Home-felt and domestic Joy!
When Life's Endowment, but not Life's Employ;
When used for Pleasure and resigned at Will,
The aid of Home-felt and domestic Joy!
520
FOR THE DRAWING OF THE LADY IN THE GREEN MANTLE.
A lady who concealed her Name,
Nor let her Face be fully seen,
To her admiring [Counsel] came,
Veil'd in an Hood and Mantle green.
Nor let her Face be fully seen,
To her admiring [Counsel] came,
Veil'd in an Hood and Mantle green.
All that he saw, the Youth approved;
But much there was he could not trace:
He wished the Envious Veil removed
That hid the Beauties of that Face.
But much there was he could not trace:
He wished the Envious Veil removed
That hid the Beauties of that Face.
All that Sir Walter's page has told—
The Air, the lovely Form—are here;
But still we covet to behold
Those Features that do not appear.
The Air, the lovely Form—are here;
But still we covet to behold
Those Features that do not appear.
To that fair form belongs a face,
Could we behold it, just as fair;
But how shall we those Features trace,
Conceal'd from View with so much Care?
Could we behold it, just as fair;
But how shall we those Features trace,
Conceal'd from View with so much Care?
How shall we match that Air and Grace,
And just the lovely features find:
That all shall say, that beauteous Face
To just that Form should be assigned?
And just the lovely features find:
That all shall say, that beauteous Face
To just that Form should be assigned?
Yes! I can certain Means devise,
To make the face and form agree;
A Mirror place before thine Eyes,
And draw the face that looks on thee.
To make the face and form agree;
A Mirror place before thine Eyes,
And draw the face that looks on thee.
Be there those Locks of waving Gold;
Be there those Eyes so clear and bright;
That Smile which all with joy behold,
Those Cheerful Looks that all delight—
Be there those Eyes so clear and bright;
That Smile which all with joy behold,
Those Cheerful Looks that all delight—
Then, though the Form and Air were such
As would our highest Praise exceed,
We should admire the Face as much,
[And] say how well the whole agreed.
As would our highest Praise exceed,
We should admire the Face as much,
[And] say how well the whole agreed.
521
JOSEPH'S DREAM.
When Joseph, by his Brethren sold,
Was with his Masters on their Way,
Prest by sad thoughts and dreading to behold
The rising Light of each succeeding Day:
A Night there came when, burdened with his Woes,
His Fears and Wrongs, he felt inclined to rest;
When Sleeping Visions on his Fancy rose,
And Wonders on his troubled Spirit prest.
Was with his Masters on their Way,
Prest by sad thoughts and dreading to behold
The rising Light of each succeeding Day:
A Night there came when, burdened with his Woes,
His Fears and Wrongs, he felt inclined to rest;
When Sleeping Visions on his Fancy rose,
And Wonders on his troubled Spirit prest.
At first his Thoughts were all confused:
A fair young Slave was in his dream,
Who like himself did seem,
But whom he saw, now trusted, then accused—
One often tried and ever faithful found;
But still in Prison bound.
Anon, a City to his View arose;
Then a fair Dame, and then a Clank of Chains;
Alternate Smiles and Frowns of Friends and Foes;
Temptations, Trials, Favours, Perils, Pains;
But in each shifting Scene
Was he, that self-same Youth, still virtuous, still serene.
A fair young Slave was in his dream,
Who like himself did seem,
But whom he saw, now trusted, then accused—
One often tried and ever faithful found;
But still in Prison bound.
Anon, a City to his View arose;
Then a fair Dame, and then a Clank of Chains;
Alternate Smiles and Frowns of Friends and Foes;
Temptations, Trials, Favours, Perils, Pains;
But in each shifting Scene
Was he, that self-same Youth, still virtuous, still serene.
All else past off like Summer Clouds;
And that fair Youth, a Slave no more,
Was now attended by applauding Crowds,
And Robes of royal State he wore;
And ever, as this Youth the Dreamer viewed,
He seemed his very Self to [see];
Save that this other Self was new indued
With Power that his must never be;
For how could one be great, who felt he was not free!
And that fair Youth, a Slave no more,
Was now attended by applauding Crowds,
And Robes of royal State he wore;
And ever, as this Youth the Dreamer viewed,
He seemed his very Self to [see];
Save that this other Self was new indued
With Power that his must never be;
For how could one be great, who felt he was not free!
He saw that other self beside a Throne,
Ennobled and admired of noble Men;
He saw him too, retired, alone,
Virtuous, and still more happy, then.
He seemed as fitted for his State,
And not by Love of Greatness led;
But as a Man advanced by Fate
To be a mighty People's Head;
For, though so high, so near a Throne,
He served his God aright and worshipped Him alone.
Ennobled and admired of noble Men;
He saw him too, retired, alone,
Virtuous, and still more happy, then.
He seemed as fitted for his State,
And not by Love of Greatness led;
But as a Man advanced by Fate
To be a mighty People's Head;
For, though so high, so near a Throne,
He served his God aright and worshipped Him alone.
Then he again beheld that Youth
With Wonder and increased delight!
For the young Dreamer saw the inward Truth,
And saw that all he did was just and right,
Acting as ever in his Mother's sight;
And much he loved, but knew not why,
As Hearts are drawn by secret Chain;
When soon he heard a Voice that said, “Draw nigh,
“And see what Truth and Piety obtain!”
While yet the Voice was heard, behold, there came
A Princess fair, or one in princely Guise;
The sleeping Shepherd feels a sudden flame,
And in his Slumber sighs.
Yet, when he saw that noble Youth address
The royal Maiden in a lover's Style,
He felt no jealous Pangs his Heart oppress,
But joyful saw the soft, assenting Smile.
With Wonder and increased delight!
For the young Dreamer saw the inward Truth,
And saw that all he did was just and right,
Acting as ever in his Mother's sight;
And much he loved, but knew not why,
As Hearts are drawn by secret Chain;
When soon he heard a Voice that said, “Draw nigh,
“And see what Truth and Piety obtain!”
522
A Princess fair, or one in princely Guise;
The sleeping Shepherd feels a sudden flame,
And in his Slumber sighs.
Yet, when he saw that noble Youth address
The royal Maiden in a lover's Style,
He felt no jealous Pangs his Heart oppress,
But joyful saw the soft, assenting Smile.
Scenes change.—The Pair are wedded and are blest;
He ruled the Land, but sterile was the Earth—
Dry as the parchèd Rock, yet not distress'd—
An unseen Plenty came upon the Dearth,
Like a full Stream; and lo! as Merchants came
A mingled race, to buy their Households food,
All praise his foresight; all revere his Name—
The Great, the Wise, the Bountiful and Good!
Then by that noble Youth, behold, there stood—
Strange Fate!—his Brothers, trembling at their Lot.
The Lordly Man them question'd; they replied:
“Our Father lives; One Brother, and beside
“That one”—they looked abashed—“one more, my Lord, is not.”
He ruled the Land, but sterile was the Earth—
Dry as the parchèd Rock, yet not distress'd—
An unseen Plenty came upon the Dearth,
Like a full Stream; and lo! as Merchants came
A mingled race, to buy their Households food,
All praise his foresight; all revere his Name—
The Great, the Wise, the Bountiful and Good!
Then by that noble Youth, behold, there stood—
Strange Fate!—his Brothers, trembling at their Lot.
The Lordly Man them question'd; they replied:
“Our Father lives; One Brother, and beside
“That one”—they looked abashed—“one more, my Lord, is not.”
He then beheld his Father and his Race,
Who found Protection from that bounteous hand.
Jacob had Honour, and his Brethren Grace,
And Joseph saw them in that Presence stand.
Strange joy he felt; for in his Dream
He as that princely Youth did seem;
And felt that Glory new of all the Scene.
But, as the Tidings of that Glory rose,
The gorgeous Scene appeared about to close;
For all the People shout, and all the Host
Of Egypt join'd, along the Red-Sea Coast,
In one loud peal of Praise; and was it joy?
Oh, no! it was the call his Masters gave,
That from his Vision drew the Hebrew Boy
To know himself a Slave!
While on his Ear that Shout of Triumph broke,
Joseph unwilling to the Call awoke;
He saw far off the Egyptian Turrets gleam,
And wept his cruel Fate, and longed again to dream.
Who found Protection from that bounteous hand.
Jacob had Honour, and his Brethren Grace,
And Joseph saw them in that Presence stand.
Strange joy he felt; for in his Dream
He as that princely Youth did seem;
And felt that Glory new of all the Scene.
But, as the Tidings of that Glory rose,
The gorgeous Scene appeared about to close;
For all the People shout, and all the Host
Of Egypt join'd, along the Red-Sea Coast,
In one loud peal of Praise; and was it joy?
Oh, no! it was the call his Masters gave,
That from his Vision drew the Hebrew Boy
To know himself a Slave!
While on his Ear that Shout of Triumph broke,
Joseph unwilling to the Call awoke;
He saw far off the Egyptian Turrets gleam,
And wept his cruel Fate, and longed again to dream.
523
[REST IN THE LORD!]
Ye blessed of your gracious Lord,
Felt you not, in that glorious Day,
By Force of that all-powerful Word
Your Nature's Evil die away?
Ye must your Saviour's Mercy feel,
Who came the World's Disease to heal.
Felt you not, in that glorious Day,
By Force of that all-powerful Word
Your Nature's Evil die away?
Ye must your Saviour's Mercy feel,
Who came the World's Disease to heal.
Felt ye not, at the powerful word,
The Innocence of Man restored;
Was it not to your Souls revealed,
The fountain of your Sin was healed?
The Innocence of Man restored;
Was it not to your Souls revealed,
The fountain of your Sin was healed?
Did ye not feel the Saviour's Love,
With such peculiar Favour graced;
Lifted the World of Sin above;
In Mercy's Ark securely placed;
From all that vexes, wounds and harms,
Protected in your Saviour's Arms?
With such peculiar Favour graced;
Lifted the World of Sin above;
In Mercy's Ark securely placed;
From all that vexes, wounds and harms,
Protected in your Saviour's Arms?
Felt you, as Life advanced, the Sin
That to our better Nature cleaves;
Or was there not the Guard within,
His Strength who in his Lord believes;
Did not that healing Touch controul
The Evil that assaults the Soul?
That to our better Nature cleaves;
Or was there not the Guard within,
His Strength who in his Lord believes;
Did not that healing Touch controul
The Evil that assaults the Soul?
Knew ye not, as your Race ye ran,
And felt the Passions' strong alarms,
That He who came and died for Man
Had blest and held you in His Arms?
And felt the Passions' strong alarms,
That He who came and died for Man
Had blest and held you in His Arms?
Ye were a favour'd few; but all
By Frailty griev'd, by Sin opprest,
Who hear and who obey the Call—
“Come unto me”—shall find their Rest.
By Frailty griev'd, by Sin opprest,
Who hear and who obey the Call—
“Come unto me”—shall find their Rest.
But Sinners who that Mercy seek
As little Children must appear;
Their Misery must their Wishes speak—
Repentant, humble, meek, sincere.
Let such appear with faithful Hearts
And feel the Hope that Faith imparts,
And they shall find that holy Rest
In their Redeemer's mercy blest.
As little Children must appear;
Their Misery must their Wishes speak—
Repentant, humble, meek, sincere.
Let such appear with faithful Hearts
And feel the Hope that Faith imparts,
And they shall find that holy Rest
In their Redeemer's mercy blest.
524
AND HE SAID UNTO HER “THY SINS ARE FORGIVEN.”
Man may the Body's Pains remove;
May soothe the Mind's inferior Pain;
May the sad Spirit's sighs reprove,
And bid the wretched smile again:
But, who the Soul of Sin would free,
Must be commissioned, Lord, from Thee!
May soothe the Mind's inferior Pain;
May the sad Spirit's sighs reprove,
And bid the wretched smile again:
But, who the Soul of Sin would free,
Must be commissioned, Lord, from Thee!
Kings of the Earth have touched the Frame
Of Men diseased, and they have thought
By calling on Thy gracious Name
That they the Body's Cure have wrought:
But 'tis Thy Word alone that brings
Health to the Soul, O King of Kings!
Of Men diseased, and they have thought
By calling on Thy gracious Name
That they the Body's Cure have wrought:
But 'tis Thy Word alone that brings
Health to the Soul, O King of Kings!
“Let there be Light!” th' Almighty said,
And o'er the World came flashing Light.
“Let there be Light!” the Saviour [said],
And straight the Blind received his Sight.
At Jesus' Word the Darkness fled [OMITTED]
And o'er the World came flashing Light.
“Let there be Light!” the Saviour [said],
And straight the Blind received his Sight.
At Jesus' Word the Darkness fled [OMITTED]
| Poems (1905) | |