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Poetics

Or, a series of poems, and disquisitions on poetry. By George Dyer
Dyer, George (1755-1841)

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VOL. I.
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ODES.
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BOOK THE FIRST.
 I. 
ODE I. VISIONS.
 III. 
ODE III. ON REVISITING THE SCENES OF EARLIER LIFE.
 IV. 
ODE IV. ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING.
 V. 
ODE V. INDEPENDENCE.
 VI. 
ODE VI. TO JOHN HAMMOND, A. M. OF FENSTANTON, HUNTINGDONSHIRE.
 VII. 
ODE VII. THE RECONCILIATION.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. INVOCATION TO MAY.
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BOOK THE SECOND.
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ODE I. THE RACE OF HEROES.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 II. 
ODE II. PEACE AND FREEDOM.
 III. 
ODE III. TO MRS. OPIE, WHEN MISS ALDERSON,
 IV. 
ODE IV. TO AN INFANT,
 VI. 
ODE VI. ON CONTEMPLATING THE WEALTH AND AGGRANDIZEMENT FLOWING FROM CERTAIN TRANSACTIONS IN INDIA.
 X. 
ODE X. ON THE EVENING.
 XI. 
ODE XI. CUPID'S ADDRESS;
 XII. 
ODE XII. ON SEEING A LADY'S PORTRAIT.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. LOVE OF PLEASURE.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. THE MUSIC OF THE GROVES.
 XV. 
ODE XV. GAIA, OR MY OWN HONEST LANDLADY IN A COUNTRY VILLAGE.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. THE PHILOSOPHY OF EVIL.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. ADDRESS TO THE CAM.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII. TO A LADY, WHO HAD RALLIED THE AUTHOR IN THE MONTHLY MAGAZINE, FOR HIS REJECTION OF TITLES.
 XXI. 
ODE XXI. TO NARCISSA.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII. TO MELANCHOLY.
 XXIII. 
ODE XXIII. MEDITATED IN THE CLOISTERS OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL.
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BOOK THE THIRD.
 II. 
ODE II. ON THE CLOSE OF AUTUMN, AFTER AN EXCURSION THROUGH HERTFORDSHIRE AND ESSEX.
 III. 
ODE III. THE RANSOM.
 IV. 
ODE IV. ON SCIENCE.
 VI. 
ODE VI. TO AN ENTHUSIAST.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. ON PEACE.
 IX. 
ODE IX. ON CONSIDERING THE UNSETTLED STATE OF EUROPE, AND THE OPPOSITION WHICH HAD BEEN MADE TO ATTEMPTS FOR THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE-TRADE.
 XII. 
ODE XII. WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF JOHN HOWARD, AT HIS VILLA AT CARDINGTON, IN BEDFORDSHIRE.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
 XV. 
ODE XV. TO A MINIATURE PAINTER,
 XXI. 
ODE XXI. AN EPITAPH FOR A HUMAN BEING.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII. TO A HUMBLE FRIEND.
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BOOK THE FOURTH.
 II. 
ODE II. AN ENGLISH SAPPHIC, IN PRAISE OF SNUFF AND TOBACCO.
 III. 
ODE III. TO MUSIC.
 IV. 
ODE IV. ON WINE.
 V. 
ODE V. AFTER VISITING DRYBURGH ABBEY, IN BERWICKSHIRE.
 VI. 
ODE VI. THE CHARM OF MUSIC.
 VII. 
ODE VII. HYMN TO CHARITY.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. THE SAILOR.
 IX. 
ODE IX. THE TRIUMPH OF POETRY.
 X. 
ODE X. A SONG.
 XI. 
ODE XI. ON THE DEATH OF FRIENDS, AND THE HAVOC OF WAR.
 XII. 
ODE XII. HYMN TO HEALTH.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV.

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118

ODE VI. TO AN ENTHUSIAST.

Where you, my friend, some nimble-winged thing,
That could with eagle speed extend your flight,
Then you might range the world,
Then pierce each lonely place:
Whether 'twere lazar-house, or dungeon drear,
Or hill, or beetling cliff, or time-worn cave,
Where Misery sat and sigh'd
Her troubles, still unseen;
And there, perchance, at eve her hollow eye
On the hard stone at times might drop the tear—
As once the dame, who mourn'd
Her hapless children's fate.
Then had you, gentle friend, the chymic art
Of some young bee, that roves from flow'r to flow'r,
How fondly might you rove,
What balmy sweets enhale!
Then, blest employment! with what tender skill
Wondering might you those honeyed treasures mix,
And form a sovereign balm
To heal the mourner's heart!
121

Were you, my friend, some dart-emitting god,
Like him who pierc'd in Græcia mortal hearts,
How might you range the world,
And find each gladsome place!
Whether 'twere village green, or city gay,
How might you roving find each cheerful scene,
Where youths and maidens smile,
And carol thro' the day!
And when, perchance, with joy-illumin'd eye,
Thoughtless of love, they frolic'd in the dance,
How might you throw your dart,
And flit unseen away!
Then you again might change your tiny form,
Stand forth the god, protector of the fair,
Your head with roses crown'd,
And in your hand a torch!
Then you might light the lovers on their way,
Then sing the song, that should endear their hearts,
Till they should love, and love,
And still grow old in love!
Ah! could you fondly climb yon orient sun,
Ride on his beam, and travel round the world,
How might you, crown'd with light,
Cheer all the nations round!
122

Yes, friend, were you like that refulgent sun,
How might you in your daily course dispense
Light, liberty, and love,
Still travelling to bless!
Were you—but cease, enthusiast, cease your speed;
For what avail, my friend, fantastic flights?
Why muse ideal schemes,
Heedless of what is true?
You are nor bee, nor sun, nor sprite, nor god—
You are a humble, weak, unwinged thing,
The frail inhabitant
Of this poor clod of earth!
And has not this poor earth, that very spot,
Where thou art wont to move, enough of range?
Ah! where then would'st thou move?
Behold your proper sphere!
Yes, cease enthusiast, cease: thy slender bark,
How should it hope to cross the mighty sea?
Keep close to shore—or ah!
Soon founder shall thy bark.
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