 | Poems |  |
“TRAHIMUR OMNES LAUDIS STUDIO!”
vii
TO LEIGH HUNT, Esq.
xi
Introduction.
By Nature planted—and by Nature rear'd—Uncultur'd emblem of Life's chequer'd gleam—
Fresh from no dew-drop—by no sunshine chear'd,
To animate its fade that fondly seem,
A humble flow'ret woos the summer-beam!
Ye stormy winds, awhile your flight delay,
That frets the current of its vital stream:
Oh, let it bloom its short-liv'd—languid day—
Then—in the lapse of Time—die silently away!
1
TO MY HARP.
1
The Sun had sunk—the twilight glimmer'd round,And soon in darkness veil'd the gloomy sphere:
When from a bough, sigh'd forth a plaintive sound,
Breathing its softness on my listening ear—
The wind was high—it echoed still more clear—
And oh, so soft the magic of its strain
It seemed some seraph spirit hovering near:
It ceas'd awhile—then floated round again,
So beautifully shrill—it haunted all the plain!
2
The Moon arose—and aided by her light,I gaz'd—this phantom of surprize to see;
When, as in kindness to my longing sight,
From the wild branches of a lonely tree,
2
I snatch'd the Harp, in joy, from whence it hung,
And woke again its wandering melody:
I took it to my cell—the chords restrung—
'Till, through the vaulted gloom, my every sorrow rung.
3
And thus my Lyre, we've pass'd the dreary hourThat heavily swells out each tedious day;
I oft have stolen a tale from Passion's power,
And thou hast charm'd a sweetness o'er my lay,
Which else had glided, silently, away:—
Much as I thank thee for the generous glow
Thy spell hath thrown upon my Fancy's play,
Yet one smile more, perchance thou wilt bestow,
On the wild transports of my mind I offer to thee now!
3
TO THE BEAUTIFUL MISS---
1
Shall Time e'er embitter these moments of Pleasure,Or lower the bright Sun of this joyous Day?
Shall Fate's gloomy showers
E'er shadow these bowers,
Where in innocent raptures we happily stray?
No, Mary—no, never!
2
Dear, dear, be the scenes where we wantonly rove—And ever be cherish'd the sweets we here sip:—
Long remember'd the blisses—
The sweet, artless kisses—
That have murmur'd from mine, to the rapturous lip,
Of thee, Mary, my Love!
4
3
In this gleam of Delight, could I live an age thro'Of moments, with pleasure so joyously fraught—
Yet how vain the regret,
Should I strive to forget
The happiness center'd in even a thought,
My sweet Mary, of you!
4
Should the smile of Deceit, or adversity's breath,This bewildering sunshine of Hope ever blight;
Or should Fate rudely chill
That soft bosom, whose thrill
Now glows with the soul of endearing Delight;
Come then, Mary, Death!
5
[When sunk beneath the swarded green]
1
When sunk beneath the swarded greenIn wakeless sleep are closed my eyes,—
When nought save humble grave is seen,
To tell the world where Sorrow lies:
2
Oh! then may one, I once so lov'd,In passing by my lowly tomb,
By Pity drawn—by Friendship mov'd—
Shed a soft drop o'er misery's doom!
3
And may that kindly tearful eyeBe dimm'd with Sympathy above my stone;
And be that gently wafted sigh,
Heav'd—but to make my griefs its own!
6
TO **** **********
1
I little thought when first we met,And smiling Friendship beam'd so brightly,
So soon those days I should regret—
Or thou would'st treat their joys so lightly!
2
I thought not, when by Friendship aided,To mutual flame our Passions grew—
I e'er should see thine ardour faded,
Or thou would'st cease to think mine, true!
3
I knew the wiles of woman's heart—Truth I have seldom met in any!
But did not think thine own'd the art
That I have found, alas, in many!
7
4
Farewell ye scenes of gay delight,'Midst which these happy moments rov'd!
To joys, so dear to rapture's sight—
To them, and thee, I once so lov'd!
5
I lov'd them—or at least lov'd thee,With passion's warmest, tend'rest, glow;
Unconscious, Time could e'er have prov'd thee,
So false to all, save outward show!
6
In me you found a fond believer—To Candour true, to Cunning loth;
In thee I found a sad deceiver—
Faithful to one, and feigning both!
8
7
Retrace those days of pleasure—flown—Review their many a happy token:
Pause o'er those fleeting joys, now gone—
And view the heart thy folly's broken!
8
Deceitful, cruel, Maid—adieu—'Twould soothe my soul could I forget thee:
But throbs, to Memory's bosom true,
And sighs of sorrow, will not let me!
9
Farewell—and when by Death's kind hand,From earthly ills my soul shall sever;
At my lone shrine let Pity stand,
And weep o'er one—undone for ever!
9
FRAGMENT.
I've tasted every sweet of pleasure—In every joy I've borne some part:
I dearly lov'd—I lost that treasure—
I once possess'd—but broke that heart!
10
TO A LADY
On her departure for India.
1
See, as the Sun slow sinking in the west,Thro' clouds of Eve withdraws its beauty's ray,
See, as departing to its couch of rest,
Smile the faint glimmers of its glory's day!
2
As mildly setting, and its beams declining,Beneath yon veil it solemnly reposes,
While round its tints, in splendour'd hue still shining,
The gloom of Night, in misty darkness closes!
3
Thus Love, which Hope had cherish'd for awhile,Shone in the rapture of its heart's delight:
A beauty-bud that op'd to Morning's smile,
But fell oblivion'd in the shade of Night!
11
4
Oh, best belov'd! soul of each fond affection—To thee I pour my bosom's purest burning!
I feel 'twas thus—yet pause sad recollection,—
Thus was our love—its joys no more returning!
5
Bright Star of Heav'n! my lonely wandering clearing—How fair, how beautiful, thy ray has shone,
How cloudless still, while dimly disappearing,
My griefs—my sorrows—will too wildly own!
6
Dearer than life, and friends that life endearing,Pulse of my heart, and each fond passion's swell,
To thee, my gloomy hours no longer cheering—
To thee I breathe, one last—one sad—farewell!
12
7
Absorb'd in dimness, my sad aching eyeWould gaze, and weep—fond tear 'twere but in vain;
For thee this bosom's every wafted sigh
Would rise—would heave—but ah, relapse again!
8
Fate harshly murmurs, “farewell earthly peace,“From thee, from happiness, for ever riven!”
Hope kindly whispers, “at the soul's release,
“There is a sphere of—oh, there is a Heaven!”
9
There, my sweet girl, each soul to soul extending,We'll meet in bliss whose bloom will know no sorrow:
In scenes of joy, the purest passions blending—
In dreams, that wake not to a gloomy morrow!
13
WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE.
1
Beneath this sketch of Mary's face,How vainly does the muse essay
To add one gleam to Beauty's grace,
Or splendor to its heavenly ray!
2
'Twere vain to draw in brighter glowThe workings of the painter's art:
Suffice it, lovely Girl, to know—
Their charms enslav'd my doating heart!
14
TO A ROSE.
1.
Ah! lovely bloom, divinely sweet,How dear thy charms to me:
Thy bud, expanding with the dawn,
Gives splendor to the verdant lawn—
'Tis there, thy flow'r I see—
Thy odour, there, I greet!
2.
Thy crimson'd garb—thy vivid hueAfford a varied pleasure;
They yield a comfort to the sad,
And heighten e'en the heart that's glad.—
Beauty's fondest treasure—
Beauty's best emblem, too!
15
3.
I gladden at thy sight, and smile,Yet know there's one that's dearer:
My Mary's beauty decks that green
Where Fashion's fairest form is seen:
I pause—and find my vision clearer,
And gaze on her the while!
4.
Sweet Girl, may joy attend thy life,And guard in peace its happy hours;
And should thy mind, from sorrow free,
Bestow one thought on distant—me—
Oh, bid it nurse the pleasing gleaming,
Nor sigh for future joys—unknown;
Whilst I, remote from busy strife,
In silent peace, adore the powers
Which bind my soul, with rapture beaming,
To sigh for thee alone!
16
[In fabled lore, I've heard 'tis stated]
1
In fabled lore, I've heard 'tis stated,The Heart two sources has to drain:
And Joy and Sorrow, tis related,
Usurp, alternately, the reign!
2
Where are these blisses prov'd so dearly?Where is the heart such joys partaking?
I've liv'd to love—and that, sincerely—
But only find that mine is breaking!
17
TO MISS---
On her leaving the Country.
1
Adieu—and when in distance straying,By thought, sad relict, solely guided;
When 'midst those scenes, new charms displaying,
That thought shall waft to friends divided:
2
Oh! from the throng, select one dear one,With him—to share fair Memory's shrine:
His heart, oh, deem it a sincere one—
And know, in friendship it is thine!
18
3
The pangs of grief have prov'd his soul,Estrang'd to Passion's wild career:
It owns no pulse's mad controul—
It heaves and sheds—nor sigh nor tear!
4
The gem it drops, is Pity's dew—Wrung from a mine of feeling flame:
Which presence long will temper true—
And absence ever prove the same!
19
FAREWELL.
By words—by tongue—can be exprestThe mind of Man, when broken-hearted?
Can years of peace console the breast,
From earthly joys, for ever parted?
Alas, the pangs by grief imparted,
To pitying eyes, its force will tell—
In ceaseless sighs—in tears just started,
Behold its wild—its long “Farewell!”
20
ADDRESS
To the Picture of---
1
Come to me, image—sweetest—dearest—And soothe my bosom's bursting grief;
Since she, whose lovely smile thou wearest,
Has ceas'd to give my mind relief!
2
Still sparkling in that livid smile,Beam recollections blandly dear;
And in that eye's bewitching wile,
The magic, which I thought sincere!
3
I lov'd her fondly—woo'd her too—To own her, was not my proud lot;
And all the vows I sigh'd so true,
Are fated worse, than if forgot!
21
4
'Tis past—and oh, how vain to traceOne glow, to calm my tortur'd breast;
So go—thou fair, deceitful face—
Nor longer break upon my rest!
22
TO MARIAN.
Marian, thy smile of Beauty, and the gleamOf that bold eye—of such expressive bloom,
Whose hue, unstain'd by Sorrow's dew of gloom,
Shines like the radiance of the Sapphire's beam—
So bright, oh, God! the splendor of its rays,
Is scarcely balanc'd by the diamond's lustre:
And though thy raven ringlet's clustre,
At times—may veil the beauty of its blaze;
Yet, like the mighty Sun of Heaven's bound—
Forcing its clouds of gloom—so dense and dark—
So does thy lovely orbit's glowing spark
Glance wildly forth—and dazzle all around!
23
O'er the soft colour of thy crimson cheek;
And the mild blush, so beautifully meek—
All that is fairest and most perfect—blending,
Seem some celestial union to bespeak!
Such are thy charms—by Virtue proudly prov'd—
Envied by all who know thee, yet by all belov'd!
24
PARTING.
1
Farewell—and be happy—but never forgetIn the smiles of the present, the times that are past;
Oh, think with delight, on the hour when we met—
On the joys of that first—on the pangs of this last!
2
Remember the vows which in youth we have sigh'd,In the moments of passions, so ardent, and sweet;
And by the last kiss, on thy fair lip that died—
Preserve them as chaste, 'till again we may meet!
3
And though thy light heart may awhile steal awayFrom the chain of thy feeling, in moments of glee;
Yet memory still shall usurp her fond sway,
And bring back the truant, in bondage, to me!
25
4
'Midst the tears of the few, or the smiles of the many,That fall, or may sparkle—to balance thy brow,
Oh, remember those pangs, the sincerest of any—
That have softened me ever—that sadden me now!
5
They will tell thee, thou liv'st in my memory still,In a rapture of hope, but a stranger before;
And will shew thee a bosom, whose agonized thrill,
Once contented to love thee—now learns to adore!
6
Farewell—in that bosom's most tender devotion—Thou shalt live, my sweet girl, tho' we're fated to sever;
This Life's every impulse—most faithful emotion,
Thou soul of that Life, shall be thine—and for ever!
26
SONG.
1
The heart may beat—the bosom rise—In all the gloom of sorrow's hue;
The tear may stain those lovely eyes,
That never dropp'd, before, their dew!
2
Heed not—'tis but a hectic gleam,Caught from the force of passioned pain;
'Tis as delusive, as the dream
That hovers round the slumb'ring brain!
3
But if, diffused by hope or fear,The bosom pants—the fair cheek flushes;
'Tis then—mild—lovely—and sincere—
And only then, that Virtue blushes!
27
A REFLECTION.
Like some faint light that shines along the deep,Joy to the watchful—peace to those who sleep—
Its blaze expanding, as each heart draws near
The home, where sparkles every smile that's dear;
'Till from its splendor, welcom'd in at last—
Fades all Reflection on the gloomy past!
So, in its birth, glows Man's pale beam of life,
The spark of sorrow—then the flame of strife—
Dazzling awhile, until its glare be spent
On deeds of madness, and of dark intent—
Next, a bright Beacon on his troubled Sea—
Bursting, at length, into Eternity!
28
ELEGIAC STANZAS.
— SISTE VIATOR!
1
Where the low willow bendsOn the brow of the Mountain—
While its soft foliage lends
Shade to the Fountain!
2
Where the wild breezes dieIn the play of the River—
Where their soft echoes sigh,
Mournfully ever!
3
Where Evening's warbler hies,When Summer's day has bloom'd—
There—a fall'n hero lies—
Lowly entomb'd!
29
4
Say—didst thou hear the charmsOf the hoarse cannon's yell,
Or the wild clash of arms?—
—Twas, there, he fell!
5
He died—and Honour rearsHer veil of sorrow o'er him—
Yet Fame restrains the tears,
That thus deplore him!
6
He sleeps—his awful slumber,No throbs of woe assail—
The night bird's lonely number,
Tells his sad tale!
30
7
Unhonour'd—mourn'd—admir'd—No stone to mark the spot—
The name that all hearts fir'd,
Perchance forgot!
8
All round is hush'd and still—Calm as his dreamless sleeping—
Save the soft purling rill,
Beside him, weeping!
9
Lo, the pale Primrose leafO'er him its tendrils wave!
The lonely sign of Grief,
Over his grave!
31
10
Let not the wind's rude toneBreak on his rest—
Let Woman's sigh, alone,
Waft o'er his breast!
11
And—nurs'd 'midst it's sorrows, dear—Forcing the smile of Pride,
Let the sad, silent tear,
Tell how he died!
32
TO---
1
Oh, Lady! keep the lute I gave—Its touch may turn a thought on me:
Oh, save it from oblivion's grave,
And wake its slumb'ring minstrelsy!
2
For I have often heard its soundIn rapt'rous cadence, die away;
In it, have far more pleasure found,
Than, elsewhere, cheer'd my happier day!
3
When every melting word that stole,Breath'd forth some joy I sigh'd to thee;
Or that fond commune of the soul,
That echoed back from thine to me!
33
4
Why is it tacit—why art thou,So cold unto my soul's endeavour?
Silent and dark—oh, where is now
The strain of love, the smile of pleasure?
5
'Tis so—farewell—the chords are mute—The fire that thrill'd them—coldly dead—
Away, my faithless love and lute—
Thy heart is false—its rapture fled!
34
TO MEDINA.
1
Serene as day, ere glittering Phœbus dawnO'er the dense vapours that debar the light—
Pure as that light, which welcomes in the morn—
Has nature form'd thee, thou endearing sprite!
In thee, I view each pleasure—each delight—
All that now charms this solitary place:
Form'd to attract, thou dazzle-est the sight—
Unfolding all the magic of thy face,
Like the resplendent glare of Heaven's solar grace!
2
Nor less unequall'd are those sensual charms,That smile in beauty, from thy mind's bright eye—
Where Reason, seated 'midst her proud alarms,
Checks the wild pulse, or the unmeaning sigh,
In other maiden breasts, that idly lie.
35
That seems some fond intenseness to descry—
But not of sorrow—'tis a hectic caught
From Feeling's silent cell—with contemplation wrought!
3
Lovely alike—and virtuous all as well—Pure in its glow, as Abbot's dying pray'r—
Flower of my lonely bosom's tranquil swell,
Dear to my heart, as to mine eye so fair,
Thy fairy image hovers, ever, there—
I love thee—and its anxious pow'r to prove,
One tender wish shall be my constant care—
Lasting in joys—oh, happy be thy love,
'Till, Nature's boon reliev'd, thy Spirit waft above!
36
THE CAPTIVE'S SONG.
1
The war that proudly swell'd the field,Still rages in its wild career:
The sword that Freedom bid me wield,
Is fall'n—and I am captive here!
2
The Sun that rose to light our toil,Still glances, brightly as before—
It beams—upon the battle-soil—
It sets—against my prison door!
3
But what avails this thought of dread,That flits across my tortur'd mind?
I feel—my lofty spirit's fled—
I know—my limbs are here confin'd!
37
4
Yet—could I brave this bondage pain,Which round my goaded bosom throngs:
Oh, I could smile upon my chain,
Could that but calm my Country's wrongs!
5
E'en Death were welcome then to me;If thus her injur'd thoughts could die,
The spell that set her thraldom free,
Should be my latest—dying sigh!
This last verse is an almost literal translation from some lines, found in the Castle of Segovia—as Patriotic as beautiful!
38
TRIBUTARY STANZAS.
The dreams of Youth—the pride of other days—
That gaudy scene—the world's deceitful blaze—
The bland allurement of whose giddy throng,
Has charm'd my mind, in wantonness, thus long;
The warm caresses of each friendly eye,
Which fetter'd, firmer, every friendly tie—
The welcome of the crowd—the social few
I lik'd enough, its int'rest to renew;
The smile of Beauty, and her speaking tear,
Breathing its woes upon the anxious ear—
Hope's shapeless visions—joy's too brief delight—
Fade from the view, and set in Sorrow's night!
That gaudy scene—the world's deceitful blaze—
The bland allurement of whose giddy throng,
Has charm'd my mind, in wantonness, thus long;
The warm caresses of each friendly eye,
Which fetter'd, firmer, every friendly tie—
The welcome of the crowd—the social few
I lik'd enough, its int'rest to renew;
The smile of Beauty, and her speaking tear,
Breathing its woes upon the anxious ear—
Hope's shapeless visions—joy's too brief delight—
Fade from the view, and set in Sorrow's night!
39
How vain, to cast the retrospective eye
On scenes like these, now idly floated by—
On days of madness, whose decline retains
The sting of anguish—Folly's bondag'd pains!
On that gay crew, companions of my pride—
The wanton glance—the bowl's seductive tide—
Brief in its pleasure—(—lasting in its woe—)
Like the wild sparkles, dying in its flow!
On all the phrenzy of mine earlier time,
That lull'd its victim in unconscious crime.
And what avails, tho' thousand beaming eyes
Should glance their lightnings from those lucid skies,
On scenes like these, now idly floated by—
On days of madness, whose decline retains
The sting of anguish—Folly's bondag'd pains!
On that gay crew, companions of my pride—
The wanton glance—the bowl's seductive tide—
Brief in its pleasure—(—lasting in its woe—)
Like the wild sparkles, dying in its flow!
On all the phrenzy of mine earlier time,
That lull'd its victim in unconscious crime.
And what avails, tho' thousand beaming eyes
Should glance their lightnings from those lucid skies,
40
She, whom my bosom sigh'd alone to love—
Endear'd by ties, e'en Fancy's hopes above—
The fair deceiver of my ev'ry toil,
Friend and associate of my Life's turmoil,
The fond, the lonely guardian of my fate—
[OMITTED]
She, too, is gone—and left me desolate.
Such is the past—the present is a waste
Of woes unsever'd—sorrows yet to taste:
Passing their clouds of Passion o'er the mind—
And then in darkness silently confin'd!
Endear'd by ties, e'en Fancy's hopes above—
The fair deceiver of my ev'ry toil,
Friend and associate of my Life's turmoil,
The fond, the lonely guardian of my fate—
[OMITTED]
She, too, is gone—and left me desolate.
Such is the past—the present is a waste
Of woes unsever'd—sorrows yet to taste:
Passing their clouds of Passion o'er the mind—
And then in darkness silently confin'd!
41
In throbs of pain—awhile by grief reliev'd—
In prospects blighted, and in hopes deceiv'd—
In thoughts, contending from their force to part,
Anguish of feeling—brokenness of heart—
Pilgrim below, whatever lot be thine,
My sorrows sigh, “it cannot equal mine!”
Such is the past—the moment's pleasing thrill,
May lure thy Fancy—calm thy feelings, still—
But on the future, if thy thought should wave—
Shrink from the prospect—'twill but shew the grave!
In prospects blighted, and in hopes deceiv'd—
In thoughts, contending from their force to part,
Anguish of feeling—brokenness of heart—
Pilgrim below, whatever lot be thine,
My sorrows sigh, “it cannot equal mine!”
Such is the past—the moment's pleasing thrill,
May lure thy Fancy—calm thy feelings, still—
But on the future, if thy thought should wave—
Shrink from the prospect—'twill but shew the grave!
42
FAREWELL TO MY HARP.
1
Thus far, I've ventur'd on the dangerous way,That distantly points out the path to fame:
Thus long, with thee, beguil'd each lingering day—
Companion of my griefs and joys, the same,
The greatest solace—only friend, I claim!
And what avails, though Fortune should bestow
Her dazzling honours on an humble name?
Oh, can it add to pleasure—exile woe?
Then far be Pomp's proud glare—I envy not its glow!
2
Should friendship pass our faults in silence by,Or partial praise sit smiling on our song;
I'll thank each bosom for it's generous sigh,
Yet fain relinquish the seductive throng,
43
Remote from strife, I'll pass the lonely hour,
Retiring from such giddy scenes, among!
Cherish, awhile, this frail life-emblem's flower,
Then woo the scythe of Fate, and bend beneath its power!
3
Farewell my Harp—while Memory holds her swayO'er the past fondness of my fancy's dream,
It's grateful due to thee it long shall pay,
Dwell with delight, and oft with rapture teem,
At the wild softness of thy wandering theme!
Farewell—the fire that warm'd thee, now is chill—
Dimly o'ershadowing pleasure's fading beam;
Hark, to the last faint cadence of thy thrill—
Now, fare thee well again—for, lo, 'tis mutc and still!
FINIS.
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