Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric by the Revd. H. Boyd ... containing the following dramatic poems: The Helots, a tragedy, The Temple of Vesta, The Rivals, The Royal Message. Prize Poems, &c. &c |
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| 1. | ODE THE FIRST. THE SHEPHERD'S DREAM. |
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 | Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric |  |
485
ODE THE FIRST. THE SHEPHERD'S DREAM.
I.
“Trench the turf, and delve it deep“Raise my camp's eternal mound
“Build the long embattled sweep
“Flanking wide the vale profound!
“Point the passes, dark and dread
“Where my free-born sons afar
“Thund'ring down, with measur'd tread
“Oft shall turn the tide of war
“Encamp ye storms! on yonder brow
“Tow'ring o'er the Leman wave
“Doom'd to whelm the hostile prow
“That dares her sacred flood to brave.”
Freedom thus to Nature spoke
When the Alpine range arose
486
O'er their height his virgin snows.
II.
Cradle of heroes! hail!Hail, proud hills, whose giant arms
Of marble mold, repell the storms
From the high-favour'd vale.
All hail! ye cloud-capt mounds, which nature gave
To check the proud barbarians headlong range.
To stem the northern tide's impulsive wave
And save the happy tribes from sudden change!
There like thy blue expanded lake
That drinks the Arar and the Rhone,
Thy native tribes a tincture take
Of those who from a colder zone
In daring search of sunnier vales
In thy deep glens a shelter found.
And yet, the dauntless stock prevails
Old Leman's lawny borders round
Before, the frontier lake extends
Swept ever by the mountain gale,
Rude ranger of her awful deep,
Whose high-commission'd whirlwinds keep
From the vext wave the hostile sail.
Behind the Alpine barrier bends,
Here Jura from his high cerulean brow
Surveys an hundred realms below
There Sion lifts his cloudy cone
Aspiring to the midnight moon
487
O'er thy proud ramparts to the welkin pil'd
The awful sound of revolution goes,
Oft, shadowing their eternal snows
Fell Tyranny hath wing'd her vulture flight
Nor on thy green vales dar'd to light
Scar'd at Freedom's dauntless eye
That flash'd defiance thro' the sky.
Southward she wheel'd, from her undaunted foes
On tamer tribes to prey.
When ancient Rome, with wild affray
Saw her new-rais'd temples fall.
Thou Helvetia! lent thine aid,
From thy vales, fermenting deep
Revolting from their iron sleep
O'er thy hills, the living tide
Swept the astonish'd vales in surging pride.
Desponding mute and still
Jove trembled for his hill,
Supprest his thund'ring pride,
And laid his bolts aside.
To them what were his mimic sires
Who from old Cenis awful spires
Or from Pennino's breezy brow
Heaven's light'ning oft had seen with dauntless eye
Glance along the frozen sky,
488
Nor had the Tullian thunders more prevail'd
The fate of Rome, by Heaven withheld
Had yet the start of yon revolving sphere
Before the destin'd year,
But Tyranny with wild alarm
Beheld the coming storm
And sent mistrust and breach of faith
(Her favourite ministers of old)
The bold confederates, bent on death
Disband, by Roman arts controll'd.
She call'd her Cæsar from his dark retreat,
Not “in loose numbers wildly sweet,”
And sent him forth to search the source
Whence those ills deriv'd their force.
He, as a chief whose troops invest the wall
Of some beelaguered castle strong,
Wanders, the shelving hills among
To find the spring, whose subterranean maze
The garrison's fierce thirst allays,
And keeps alive the war.
Thus, to the climes that front the Boreal star
He took his dauntless way.
489
From Berne and Uris' watry dales,
And Bafil's meads, and Leman's strand,
Burst away the countless band.
Pent in their narrow glens they long had mourn'd,
And for an ampler range of glory burn'd.
The demons of despotic sway,
With stern regard, from Sion's height
Saw the torrent burst away,
And bade their Cæsar check its flight.
Back to its source he bade the living torrent flow,
Back to its source the living torrent flow'd
The smother'd flame indignant glow'd
Ages long of torpid woe—
III.
Long centuries of chearless gloomLike a live lamp laid in a tomb,
It burn'd, and now the raging north
Had call'd again the conflagration forth.
But ere it blew, the demon of the soul
Had stretch'd his sway from pole to pole
And, not content, with iron rod
To sink to slaves the sons of God.
His Mulciberian arts refin'd
Forg'd the fetters of the mind,
490
Profane at will the curtain'd sleep
Display the blest Elysian bowers
The sentenc'd dead, the burning shores.
The silver fee, the sanguine scourge
That rescued from the flaming surge
And Mammon kept the door
Disguis'd in humble fisher's weed.
Like him of old by Heaven decreed,
To call the Gentile world from Jordan's hallow'd shore.
And here the demons too were found
Who on Bœotia's flow'ry bound
And Athens, erst with mystic rite
And orgies wild profan'd the night.
The archimage in saintly stole array'd
And she, like Una, heavenly maid
By wicked wiles, seductive art
Allur'd the crowd of simple heart.
They, in the symbols given to memorize
The dread event on which they built their faith.
Behold with fascinated eyes
Like Egypt's sons, a vegetable god
Spring in the green blade, flourish in the stem
And load, with seeming life, the bending ear.
At the lying wizard's word
A spell-wrought banquet crown'd the board,
491
Streaming from their Saviour's side.
Bland Ceres' gifts, by holy fraud
Instinct, with mystic life, became
Emanuel's rent, and agonizing frame
The living cates, receiv'd within
They taught, had power to cleanse the taint
Of new-committed sin
And of a murtherer make a saint.
The crowd in fancy, saw their bounteous Lord
And, hoodwink'd by the charm, they swallow'd and ador'd.
Repentance chang'd to mimic rites
To mutter'd prayers, and easy slights
The penal maze they trode with pain
And hasten'd back to sin again.
Or, was the penitent of wealth possest
The pious magian sooth'd his holy fears
With sovereign touch, the silver wand
Dry'd the salt spring of salutary tears
And calm oblivion touch'd his wounds with torpid hand.
The magic rites the fancy sir'd
Of the initiate train inspir'd
With visions new of op'ning glory
And, show'r'd like manna, heav'nly grace
Like him who erst in fabled story
At Jove's own banquets found a place.
Cemented now by magic slight
492
Despotic o'er the soul.
Beneath the moon the fabric rose
Sacred to Hades and old Night
And low'r'd defiance on her ancient foes.
But lo! the turns of fate
By night it rose and by a dream it fell,
The edifice of hell!
'Twas something more than fancy's plastic power
That fir'd the slumb'ring boy's extatic thought
(Whether in him the soul of Athens' sage
Walk'd again this earthly stage,
Or old Elijah's wrath at rites profane
Led him to leave the starry plain)
And held him high, by holy rapture caught
Above the haunted vale
Unfam'd by many an hideous tale
Of midnight spectres seen
Sweeping o'er the dewy green.
There many a baleful simple grew
Batt'ning in the midnight dew,
Two spectral forms he there beheld
Wand'ring round in vapours blue
The powers they seem'd, whose names of old
The Pagan world ador'd
The harvest Queen, the vineyard's Lord,
His bowl's red juice the Bromian King
Temper'd at Lethe's lurid spring
493
Portentous from the nether skies)
The wizard thus, and in her shadowy lap
The witch was seen to crop
The seeds of Lotos where it seem'd to grow
In many a goodly row.
She mixt it with the golden grain,
She fann'd it with her mystic vane.
IV.
A gorgeous temple in his dream appear'dAnd there an altar high was rear'd
And there the magic cup, the venom'd feast
Inviting every guest.
The suppliants came, they gorg'd, they quaff'd
And Folly rav'd and Frenzy laught,
Bland Superstition's trickling balm
Shed o'er each mind an holy calm.
Conscience felt the deadly wound
And sunk in vap'ry trance profound.
He wakes—he hears the fancy'd bell
That call'd the madding crowd
Distinct and loud
Again he hears
And hardly trusts his trembling ears
Again the brazen summons sounds
Again his trembling ear it wounds
494
He enters now the opening fane
He sees the magic bowl once more
The cates prepar'd with mystic lore
Where, as he gorg'd the magic food
The haughty mortal seem'd a God.
Heaven had purg'd the stripling's eyes,
Or active fancy drew
Again to his astonish'd view
The natives of the nether skies.
Flashing anger, pale surprize,
Alternate froze, alternate glow'd
On his pale cheek as he stood
And “oh,” he cry'd, “forbear, forbear!”
(The crowd their orisons withheld)
“See the fraudful phantoms there
“Whose sway the ancient world bewail'd
“They mix their dark spells with the saintly rite
“And haunt the holy roof in Heaven's despite
“See Ceres there, and Bacchus stand
“The magian with commission'd wand
“Deals on this forbidden ground
“His fell demonian charms around.”
“In league with fell despotic sway
“He bends your free-born souls to tremble and obey.
“Seize him,” the Flamen cry'd
(His bosom burning with pontific pride)
“Haste, bring that youth! some imp of hell
495
“Haste, exorcise the latent pest
“That harbours in his heaving breast
“And interrupts our heavenly rite!
“Hurl him to Hades and old Night.”
The Ministers obey'd the stern command
And seiz'd the youth with potent hand
The Priest his mutter'd spells began
And o'er his incantations ran.
The sacring bell began to toll
To disengage the lab'ring soul.
In vain—his eyes began to glow
His giant nerve repell'd the foe
While, from the full vase sprinkled frore
The sacred lymph bedew'd the floor.
With vigorous arm he dash'd around
The lifted cross,—the vase profound.
The magic book he hurls afar
And all the sacerdotal war.
Prostrate on earth in wild affray
Around the pale assistants lay
Sudden, the strange contagion spread
Revolt and faction rais'd its head
The madding crowd, as well as he
Clearly saw, or seem'd to see
The demon gods of ancient days
Partners of celestial praise.
496
Following their youthful guide, like Moses, to the wild.
V.
With more than moonstruck rage tyrannic powerBann'd aloud the luckless hour.
“Oh! had I been content,” he cry'd,
“With war and slaughter by my side
“To trust the trenchant sword alone
“Nor call for succour to the gown
“Nor let their cobweb arts essay
“To lead the multitude astray,
“Even ignorance, to thought unus'd
“Feels its implicit faith abus'd.
“But haste, ye Ministers of mine, who wield
“Far other and more deadly arms
“Nor vainly trust to futile charms!
“Pursue the fugitives, pursue
“While yet the bold revolt is new
“While yet it lies in woods conceal'd
“Ere thro' the long Helvetian vales
“This home-bred lunacy prevails.
“Call to the Tiber, Seine, and Loire
“To quench the rising flame, to join their liquid store
“And bid my favour'd Elbe and Rhine
“To aid my cause their force combine.”
Instant, his legions heard their Lord
Havock rous'd her northern horde
Discord fires the kindred trains
And Leman's lake with crimson stains.
497
'Mongst the shadowy cliffs combining
Feed the fray with magic breath
Bright conquest now to this, now that enclining.
Murther now, with stealthy pace
Wand'ring thro' the midnight gloom
The bold reformer holds in chace
To mark him for the tomb.
Safety is there for him no more
Tho' his faction still survives
And the blest energy to other realms derives.
Yet still by civil conflicts tost
Religion's patron seeks a safer coast
And in the northern ocean dips his oar.
Expedition of Cæsar in Gaul, his prevention of the Helvetic migration and conquest of that warlike people. Cæsar Com. l. 1.
Effects of papal superstition, which in some respects, prevented the good consequences which might have attended the irruption of the Goths.
There is, it is owned, something of anachronism in the foregoing ode. Religion had very little immediate influence on the first commencement of Helvetic liberty, which happened near a century before the reformation; whatever share the latter revolution might have had in the subsequent establishment of the Helvetic constitution.
| Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric | |