The Poetical Works Of James Grainger :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Poetical Works Of James Grainger

... With Memoirs Of His Life And Writings, By Robert Anderson ... And An Index Of The Linnean Names Of Plants, &c. By William Wright

Granger, James (1723-1776)

II.

VOL. II.

LYRIC POEMS.

SOLITUDE,

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

FANCY,

HYMN TO CHEERFULNESS.

AN ADDRESS TO THE EVENING STAR.

TO THE NYMPH OF PITKEATHLY WATERS.

TRIUMPH OF BEAUTY.

TO NEÆRA.

LOVE ELEGIES.

THREE ELEGIES WRITTEN FROM ITALY.

ELEGY I.TO ROSALIND.

II.

ELEGY II.TO THE SAME.

III.

ELEGY III. TO THE SAME.

ELEGY.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

AN EPISTLE TO LORD L--- IN LONDON,

A DIALOGUE.

SONNET, ON LEAVING NEÆRA.

EPIGRAM.

BRYAN AND PEREENE.

TRANSLATIONS FROM OVID.

LEANDER TO HERO.

HERO TO LEANDER.

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FANCY,

AN IRREGULAR ODE.

I.

What lunacy distracts my soul?
What sacred fury wings me through the sky?
Beneath my feet the rattling thunders roll;
I mount, I fly.
The moon's dim earth's already past,
Uriel, to thy sublimer orb I haste.
Fancy broods amid thy rays,
I see the Phœnix shooting from thy blaze!
Fair winged steeds, more bright
Than Alpine snows, or new-born light,
Whirl her chariot through the skies.
Before her Imitation flies,
Rob'd in a lucid veil
Of ever-changing shape and hue;
And with a piercing eye looks nature through.
The sister arts (her filial train) around
Catch her shape, her thought, her sound;

From each embolden'd dash, what wonders start?
Nature's improv'd by art!
The foremost steed
Fire-clad Inspiration rides,
Lashing with furious speed,
The airy vast procession guides.
The clouds their gayest liveries wear,
Myriads of spruce ideas crowd the rear,
And symphony ascends from every sphere.

II.

What though your pleasing steps no more
Fair Meles' sedgy banks detain;
Nor on th'Elean Alpheus shore
You shake with Pindar the gold-studded rein?
What though, while Heaven's vast cope is in a blaze,
And Cacodæmons, wing'd with fate,
Pluck hoary Nature from her base,
No more to aggrandize your state,
You snatch up Shakspeare in your car,
And stern enjoy the elemental war?
If you th'energic fiat nod,
Exert the God,

That lowly streamlet watering yonder dell,
Shall Meles, Alpheus, excel,
And Fame,
With pen of adamant, engrave,
Before great Shakspeare's, my unnotic'd name.

III.

In, Fancy, thee, I view th'Almighty Sire,
Ere the fair Creation rose,
To thee impart his first desire,
To thee his beauteous purpose deign disclose.
When formless Chaos started into shape,
And Rest coeval leapt to organ'd life,
Thou first, exulting, did'st descry
Light ope the modest morning's eye;
The negro-darkness in a stole of crape,
With frowning tardiness withdrew;
Then Colours first forsook their ancient thrall,
And, firm collected in a beamy band,
Down flew,
And pouring diverse o'er the new-made ball,
Painted the curling clouds, vast deep, and dry-broad land.
Thou saw'st yon Sun, like a rich bridegroom drest,
First bursting from the East;

Then infant Spring walk'd forth in cheerful green;
Red Summer's blush adorn'd the rosy scene;
Then laughing Autumn, plump and blithe,
Sprung with the dawn, and whet her scythe;
Last churlish Winter, wrapp'd in furs of bear,
Lash'd on his iron wane, and clos'd the varied year;
Earth, Ocean, Air, the Stars of Morning sung;
The wandering Planets stopp'd to hear,
And Heaven with acclamations rung.

IV.

From thee, Cupid stole his bow;
On Pan thou didst his oaten pipe bestow;
Thou plait'st with snakes the Furies' hair;
And gav'st Medusa the petrific air.
The shades of Pindus, and the sacred Nine,
And Aganippe's vocal fount are thine.
The Sylphs and Gnomes that on the fair attend,
Or round their robes in shining squadrons play,
Or in Neæra's ringlets stray,
For being on thy breath depend.
The love-creating zone thy fingers plac'd
Round Cytherea's taper waist.

Nor less thy bounty to the wond'rous pair,
Ierne's boast, and Britain's care ;
Thou to them gav'st thy choicest bloom,
Their shafts, and feather'd from thy plume.
The naked Graces three,
Link'd in comely harmony,
Derive their wond'rous charms alone from thee.

V.

With you, Milton rapt on high,
Trac'd all the wonders of the sky;
Enter'd, unbash'd, the blest abodes,
Where darkness shrouds the God of Gods.
But, hark!
Th'Archangel's trump sounds dire alarms,
All Heaven's in arms.
The rebel host the arch-apostate leads,
The hierarchy bleeds!
Portentous comets glare!
Vast torn-up mountains shade the air!
He comes, he comes!

The Son of God to war,
Whirlwinds draw his living car.
Heaven's stedfast deep foundations shake,
Lightnings flash and thunders break:
Havoc and wild uproar,
Th'apostate legions gore:
Th'arch-fiend and furious Moloch quake.
All drop their bolts, and diverse fly,
Like chaff before the gloomy North;
Heaven bursts hideous beneath their feet,
And the sweet Mercy check'd the Son's pursuit;
They plunge incontinent, and howling cry
To Hell to fling her brazen portals wide,
And in her boiling seas of flame their anguish hide.

VI.

At thy glance the desert blooms,
And Fragrance flings her rich perfumes.
Effulgent Fancy, at thy ray,
Zembla's age-frozen mountains melt away;
Her Naiads from their icy fetters freed,
Wondering, salute the new-enamell'd mead;
While on their banks thy own sweet Cygnets sing,
Her night becomes an endless day,
Her winter an eternal spring.

The stock-dove thrills her plaintive strain,
Ceres waves her golden grain.
Around the elm, with wanton twine,
Curls the cluster-blushing vine.
And while Pan his flocks among
Jocund pipes a sylvan song,
His flocks scatter'd o'er the mead,
List'ning, all forget to feed.
Jollity and sportive Spring,
To the lay respondent sing;
And with rosy chaplets bound,
Lightly trip the flowery ground.
Cupid haunts the myrtle shade,
And woos the unreluctant maid.
Each new-created object gives delight,
And more than Arcady pours on the sight.

VII.

Without thy smiles spruce Opulence gives pain;
Thou can'st knock off the wretch's chain;
Inspir'd by thee, brown Drudgery sings
Of ruddy Mopsa's charms,
Nor envies the proud state of scepter'd kings.

Plenty without thee pines amid his store;
Thou spread'st an ample banquet to the poor.
At courts thou can'st sequester'd peace supply,
And cottages are courts when thou art nigh.
Proteus' Spleen expands his sooty wings,
And sullen from thy presence flings.
Podagra, on a mattress bound,
Light traverses with thee this earthy round;
O'er Alpine ridges nimbly soars,
And visits, unfatigued, the polar shores.

VIII.

Come then, while I upon a bank reclin'd,
Where not a breath of wind,
Or shakes the trees, or whispers through the brake,
Or stirs yon sheety lake;
Ere Phosphor leave the sky,
Or morn, of rosy hue,
From old Tithonus' bosom fly,
To shower on earth the pearly dew:
O bid ten thousand shadowy forms arise,
And skim before my raptur'd eyes.
With buskin'd Emperors now I seem to strut,
Now saunter to the straw-thatch'd hut;

Now frown on thrones where Cæsar sat,
And then with simple shepherds chat;
Anon I ride sublime on Saturn's ring,
Now on the turf effus'd hear thrushes sing;
Through every solar system then I rove,
Or plunge me in the dusky grove;
Then on the verge exulting hing
Of Nature's furthest star, and hear its syren sing.

IX.

But, Fancy, stop thy bold career,
Nor traverse the empyrean space,
Where unveil'd seraphs scarce appear,
Before th'Almighty would'st thou show thy face?
The grove of Learning calls thy feet,
Seek Academus' olive seat,
There with thy son, and fair Apollo's meet .
See, see Ilyssus from his mossy cave,
With sedges crown'd, his awful figure rear,
And hush his rapid wave,
The heaven-sent lore of Socrates to hear!

But, hark! I see the Greek,
The foe of Macedon, in act to speak;
Silence, ye crest-fall'n venal throng,
Like whirlwinds swift, like thunder strong!
What soul-reviving energy divine
Bursts out in every line!
Their useless gold, the King , and bribery mourn.
Again they whet the falchion, grasp the shield,
Yoke the steed, rush to the field,
And death, and millions, for their country mourn.

X.

To peep where no immortal ever dar'd,
You led the Grecian bard,
Who saw the blushing Queen of Heaven improve
Her naked charms with all the wiles of love.
And though a golden cloud is spread around,
Clasp'd in each other's arms, I see
Th'imperial pair, on the flower-shooting ground,
Expire in amorous ecstacy.

The Heavens their choicest influence shed
On the spontaneous rosy bed.
Old Ida feels th'enamour'd God,
And all his tops and forests shake with joy.

XI.

With you through all the Signior's guards I pass;
In vain grim eunuchs bar my way, and doors of brass.
In the seraglio's innermost recess,
Each greedy raptur'd sense I feast
On all the flaming beauties of the East.
But, lovely Fancy, would you charm me more
Than song can tell, or poet ever knew,
Assume a fairer face than e'er you wore,
Fairer than pen or pencil drew,
And bring Neæra to my ravish'd view;
Soft emotion in her look,
Let her listen to my woes
In an arbour, by a brook
That invites to soft repose.
The vision works, I clasp the maid,
Trembling, sighing,
Half complying,
Struggling, wishing, fond, afraid.

Dear arbour, thicken to a closer shade;
Let none profane Love's mystic orgies spy;
I faint, I die;—
Far, far, each vulgar fascinating eye!

Miss Gunnings, afterwards Countess of Coventry and Duchess of Hamilton.

See Diog. Laert. in the Life of Plato.

Philip.

After the defeat of Chæronea.