Neglected Genius A Poem. Illustrating the Untimely And Unfortunate Fate Of Many British Poets; From the Period of Henry the Eighth to the Aera of the Unfortunate Chatterton. Containing Imitations of their Different Styles, &c. &c. By W. H. Ireland |
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James Thomson.
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James Thomson.
NUNQUAM ALIUD NATURA, ALIUD SAPIENTIA DICIT.
Hark! some seraphic minstrel of the sphere
Tunes his melodious cadence in mine ear;
The silv'ry chords waft modulation's sound,
Or fill with concord sweet the airy round:
Soft as scarce-breathing zephyrs now they sigh,
With vacuum mingling tremulously die;
In swelling unison then louder peal,
Transfix the ear, and o'er the bosom steal;
Till one full burst re-echoing from on high,
Swells a loud choir of heav'nly harmony:
What hand thus wakes my soul? 'Tis nature's swain
Pictures exuberant her teemful reign;
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Depicts the seasons, and their varied change;
From bursting Spring, where nature paints the vale,
And scents with fragrance each reviving gale;
To blazing Summer, when the plains unfold
One wavy scene of undulating gold:
Or when the sap, retiring, gives the breeze
The crimp'd and yellow foliage of the trees;
Till hoary Winter, chasing Sol's last glow,
Spangles with ice, and clothes with drifting snow:—
Such is the godlike spirit I proclaim,
Poetic fancy's vivifying flame;
The bard of nature through each varied scene,
Congeal'd or scorching—chilling or serene.
Yet what avail'd this soul-subduing sense,
This impregnation of Omnipotence?
Creative genius nature's theme imbu'd,
He penn'd her dictates, and the task subdu'd;
Yes, far from rustic swains and lowing herds,
The lap of nature, and the choir of birds;
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That dart resplendant through ethereal blue;—
Far from all these the poet sung his strain:
No feather'd choristers, no verdant plain,
No radiance unobscur'd, no azure bright,
Enkindled genius, giving mental light;
In London's vortex he attun'd the string,
Through realms of smoke expanded fancy's wing;
Walls were his daisied meads, his vales and hills,
Walls were his nodding woods and purling rills.
No checker'd scenes his kindling brain inspir'd,
Fancy alone the soul of genius fir'd;
Mingling with truth an energy divine,
Conjoining science with the tuneful nine.
As if expanded nature's dictates sage
Were all condens'd in one prolific page,
Instructing man her precepts to discern,
Thus leaving mortals nothing more to learn;
So struggled genius 'gainst opposing fate,
Thus soar'd the poet in bright mental state;
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While love of innate vigor nerves the breast.
Thomson shall live an unexhausted store,
Till Seasons, Nature's offsprings, reign no more.
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