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 |
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AN EPISTLE TO LORD L--- IN LONDON,
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 | The Poetical Works Of James Grainger |  |
73
AN EPISTLE TO LORD L--- IN LONDON,
WRITTEN AT FORT-WILLIAM IN LOCHABER, Feb. 1752.
------ Jacet extra sidera tellus
Extra anni, solisque vias.
Virg.
Extra anni, solisque vias.
Virg.
Was e'er, my Lord, so strange a thing?
What! at the Bear to bid me sing!
D'ye think Euterpe such a fool,
To leave her Pind' for furthest Thule?
Or that Dan Phœbus such an ass is,
To climb Ben Nevis for Parnassus?
Here, here, alas! no streamlets play,
To sooth enraptur'd Fancy's lay!
Here the mild airs no alcoves twine,
Retirement for the sacred Nine!
Here no soft Philomela pours
Her plaints, to charm the midnight hours!
But Alps on Alps, pil'd rudely high,
Heave their shagg'd summits to the sky;
Round their shagg'd summits lightnings flash,
Adown their sides wild torrents dash;
Fogs, from torpid lakes that rise,
Veil their basis from your eyes;
While cliffs, from whose o'er-beetling brinks,
Dizzy Consternation shrinks,
Oft thunder down, when tempests plough,
And crash whole villages below!
The mountains groan, the caverns roar,
By ten thousand Echoes tore!
The crash the distant savage hears,
Snatches his babes, and, wing'd with fears,
Flies to some glen's Cimmerian gloom,
And, shuddering, dreads the final doom!
What! at the Bear to bid me sing!
D'ye think Euterpe such a fool,
To leave her Pind' for furthest Thule?
Or that Dan Phœbus such an ass is,
To climb Ben Nevis for Parnassus?
Here, here, alas! no streamlets play,
To sooth enraptur'd Fancy's lay!
74
Retirement for the sacred Nine!
Here no soft Philomela pours
Her plaints, to charm the midnight hours!
But Alps on Alps, pil'd rudely high,
Heave their shagg'd summits to the sky;
Round their shagg'd summits lightnings flash,
Adown their sides wild torrents dash;
Fogs, from torpid lakes that rise,
Veil their basis from your eyes;
While cliffs, from whose o'er-beetling brinks,
Dizzy Consternation shrinks,
Oft thunder down, when tempests plough,
And crash whole villages below!
The mountains groan, the caverns roar,
By ten thousand Echoes tore!
The crash the distant savage hears,
Snatches his babes, and, wing'd with fears,
Flies to some glen's Cimmerian gloom,
And, shuddering, dreads the final doom!
75
Yet here, when Friendship bids me sing,
And sweep the shell, of various string,
I snatch the long-neglected lyre,
And thus to Erato the lays aspire:
And sweep the shell, of various string,
I snatch the long-neglected lyre,
And thus to Erato the lays aspire:
“Daughter of Jove! assistance deign;
“Your Memmius commands the strain:
“Send your genius, Fiction, here!
“Fire my brain, and loose the year!
“If the mimic Goddess come,
“Winter is no longer dumb:
“Each vast Abrupt his voice shall raise,
“Each barbarous Echo babble lays!
“Storm a placid mien shall wear!
“And huddling Torrents stop to hear!
“Fiction send, my song shall be,
“Worthy Friendship, worthy thee.”
She nodded. Fancy left the Sun,
And thus the mimic Queen begun:
“Your Memmius commands the strain:
“Send your genius, Fiction, here!
“Fire my brain, and loose the year!
“If the mimic Goddess come,
“Winter is no longer dumb:
“Each vast Abrupt his voice shall raise,
“Each barbarous Echo babble lays!
“Storm a placid mien shall wear!
“And huddling Torrents stop to hear!
“Fiction send, my song shall be,
“Worthy Friendship, worthy thee.”
She nodded. Fancy left the Sun,
And thus the mimic Queen begun:
“If I stand confess'd to view,
“'Tis for Memmius, not for you;
“Him the sacred Sisters love,
“Thou a stranger art above.
“But no more, expect my aid,
“Jove will'd, and Jove must be obey'd:
“The cause I tell, prepare to hear,
“'Twas never told in mortal ear.
“'Tis for Memmius, not for you;
“Him the sacred Sisters love,
“Thou a stranger art above.
76
“Jove will'd, and Jove must be obey'd:
“The cause I tell, prepare to hear,
“'Twas never told in mortal ear.
“When Time was young, and lusty Jove
“Had Saturn from his empire drove,
“Him to dethrone Rebellion rose,
“Gods and Titans were his foes;
“These soon his mightier arm o'ercame,
“And doom'd to Ætna's ceaseless flame;
“And, oh! too giddy with his might,
“The Nectar stopp'd till late at night;
“When mad with the enticing drink,
“(Not Jove! when drunk, has power to think)
“In whim, though otherwise 'twas fated,
“The Rocks around you he created!
“Next day, before he op'd his eyes,
“The Sun was driving down the Skies,
“But when he saw his midnight blunder,
“He shook his curls, and grasp'd his thunder,
“And as an object which we hate,
“If present, pain will aye create;
“He bade a dusky fog to spring,
“And cloak the cliffs with curling wing:
“The dusky Fog obedient sprung,
“And o'er them ever since has hung!
“Around the Gods affrighted wait;
“He spoke, and what he spoke was fate:”
“Had Saturn from his empire drove,
“Him to dethrone Rebellion rose,
“Gods and Titans were his foes;
“These soon his mightier arm o'ercame,
“And doom'd to Ætna's ceaseless flame;
“And, oh! too giddy with his might,
“The Nectar stopp'd till late at night;
“When mad with the enticing drink,
“(Not Jove! when drunk, has power to think)
“In whim, though otherwise 'twas fated,
“The Rocks around you he created!
“Next day, before he op'd his eyes,
“The Sun was driving down the Skies,
“But when he saw his midnight blunder,
“He shook his curls, and grasp'd his thunder,
“And as an object which we hate,
“If present, pain will aye create;
77
“And cloak the cliffs with curling wing:
“The dusky Fog obedient sprung,
“And o'er them ever since has hung!
“Around the Gods affrighted wait;
“He spoke, and what he spoke was fate:”
“I see, my brethren of the skies,
“That oft success misleads the wise!
“To rage no sooner Faction ceas'd,
“And I proclaim'd the royal feast,
“Than I —but since 'tis past, 'twere better
“Not recapitulate the matter:
“And though, ye Gods! each act of mine
“Th'eternal Fates must countersign;
“I swear by Styx! oath firm and holy,
“Ne'er to forgive myself this folly:
“My eyes, whene'er I look below,
“With tears of penitence shall flow.
“Now to my mandates, Gods! giver ear,
“And practise duly what you hear!
“I'm King of Kings, and Lord of Lords!
“And Destiny awaits my words!
“Let none of you presumptuous dare
“To watch yon rocks with guardian care;
“Fly, fly, the rage-devoted coast;
“But, Ceres, you and Phœbus most!
“There Winter, with his first-born cold,
“In savage pomp his throne shall hold;
“Snow and Hail be pil'd around,
“Frost eternal jag the ground;
“At distance Hurricanes shall wait,
“And awful guard his gloomy state;
“While roseate Spring's prolific smile,
“Purples the rest of Britain's isle.
“And while bland Peace, with olive-wand,
“Peoples, ploughs, and reaps that land;
“There Broil his bloody flag shall wield,
“And heap with kindred-slain the field.
“There Sloth shall quell their lust for gain,
“And give them up to Beggary's train.
“While fruitful Albion's sea-taught race,
“With fleets the wat'ry world embrace;
“With every wind commercial roam,
“And thrifty waft both Indies home:
“And while just laws, which Britain's sons ordain,
“Confine the Monarch, and protect the Swain;
“To selfish petty tyrants they shall bend,
“And feel the fiend Oppression's leaden hand!”
“That oft success misleads the wise!
“To rage no sooner Faction ceas'd,
“And I proclaim'd the royal feast,
“Than I —but since 'tis past, 'twere better
“Not recapitulate the matter:
“And though, ye Gods! each act of mine
“Th'eternal Fates must countersign;
“I swear by Styx! oath firm and holy,
“Ne'er to forgive myself this folly:
“My eyes, whene'er I look below,
“With tears of penitence shall flow.
“Now to my mandates, Gods! giver ear,
“And practise duly what you hear!
78
“And Destiny awaits my words!
“Let none of you presumptuous dare
“To watch yon rocks with guardian care;
“Fly, fly, the rage-devoted coast;
“But, Ceres, you and Phœbus most!
“There Winter, with his first-born cold,
“In savage pomp his throne shall hold;
“Snow and Hail be pil'd around,
“Frost eternal jag the ground;
“At distance Hurricanes shall wait,
“And awful guard his gloomy state;
“While roseate Spring's prolific smile,
“Purples the rest of Britain's isle.
“And while bland Peace, with olive-wand,
“Peoples, ploughs, and reaps that land;
“There Broil his bloody flag shall wield,
“And heap with kindred-slain the field.
“There Sloth shall quell their lust for gain,
“And give them up to Beggary's train.
“While fruitful Albion's sea-taught race,
“With fleets the wat'ry world embrace;
“With every wind commercial roam,
“And thrifty waft both Indies home:
79
“Confine the Monarch, and protect the Swain;
“To selfish petty tyrants they shall bend,
“And feel the fiend Oppression's leaden hand!”
“He spoke; and gave th'almighty nod,
“The stamp of Fate, and of the God!
“The Muses harp'd, Apollo sung,
“From earth, O Gods! the Titans sprung!
“They, with rebel purpose, strove
“To wrest his scepter'd might from Jove.
“These his thundering arm o'erthrew!
“Let their Mother suffer too!
“If her sons are pierc'd with thunder,
“These rocks will keep her as much under!
“And make her hourly curse the morn,
“When the rebel crew was born.
“The stamp of Fate, and of the God!
“The Muses harp'd, Apollo sung,
“From earth, O Gods! the Titans sprung!
“They, with rebel purpose, strove
“To wrest his scepter'd might from Jove.
“These his thundering arm o'erthrew!
“Let their Mother suffer too!
“If her sons are pierc'd with thunder,
“These rocks will keep her as much under!
“And make her hourly curse the morn,
“When the rebel crew was born.
“The Gods approv'd the mother's doom;
“And Jove, in better humour, left the room.”
“And Jove, in better humour, left the room.”
She said; and from my sight withdrew.
And what she said, my Lord, I send to you.
And what she said, my Lord, I send to you.
| The Poetical Works Of James Grainger | |