Poems on Various Subjects :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oh Howard! Thou whose philanthropic mind,
From every prejudice of pride refin'd,
Show'rs like the God whose agent here thou art,
The balm of comfort on each aching heart!
Whose hand incessant, toils with lenient joy,
To wipe each trembling tear from every eye!
Thou, who not only bear'st a Christian's name,
But glow'st with Christian Love's unbounded flame!
Thou, sent by heav'n, to shew the wond'ring earth
How near of parents frail the mortal birth
May, in the glorious attribute of love,
In emulation of the Saviour move!
How shall my humble lays approach thy ear?
How shall I sing those virtues I revere?

Hark! tuneful Hayley strikes the warbling lyre,
And list'ning cherubim the strain admire:

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For sure, when HOWARD wakes the sacred strain,
Heav'n will attend, and all the heav'nly train;
Heav'n's list'ning choir awhile the hymn will cease
While mortals sing of charity and peace.
HOWARD and HAYLEY!—Oh most justly pair'd!
The truest hero and the greatest bard!
While HOWARD's actions fill the hearer's soul
With feelings that each selfish thought controul;
And more than all the names her records hold,
(Henries or Edwards, the great boasts of old,)
Give deathless lustre to Britannia's fame,
And add fresh glory to the Christian name;
Thy strains enchanting Hayley shall impart
Unrival'd bliss to each enlighten'd heart,
Which joys can feel above the vulgar throng,
From dulcet verse, and Fancy's raptur'd song.

And hark! again resounds the tuneful wire.
What skilful bard now wakes the patriot lyre,
And, while his fingers o'er the cordings rove,
Tunes the sweet airs of Charity and Love?
While charm'd Benevolence, delighted, hears
With generous rapture, the descending spheres

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Her triumphs sing, and spread her glorious reign:—
Self-love, abash'd, retiring, shuns the strain;
While 'sham'd Ambition from her temples tears
The blood-stain'd wreath—sole fruit of endless wars!

Ah! how shall I with vent'rous wing aspire,
Their heights to soar, or emulate their fire?
When bards like these have rais'd the favour'd strain,
Vain is my praise, my feeble efforts vain.
Wilt thou, Britannia, from their songs divine,
A while thy ear to meaner strains incline,
Nor scorn a theme so unadorn'd as mine?
Rude is my music, uninform'd my mind;
By classic lore nor lumin'd nor refin'd.
Yet let not HOWARD scorn the humble verse
Which love of virtue prompts me to rehearse.
Virtue like thine, must ev'ry soul inspire;
All, all must praise thee, or to praise aspire.
Expiring Age, all silver'd o'er with years,
Whose wrinkled front, death's livid signet bears,
With the last effort of the vital flame,
Shall breathe, enraptur'd, HOWARD's pious name;
While lisping Infancy the couch beside,
Shall catch the fainting sound; with honest pride

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Shall glow, transported, at thy virtuous fame,
And prattling, echo HOWARD's pious name.
From shore to shore, from pole to distant pole,
Thy fame, Oh HOWARD! shall perennial roll:
Nor earth shall bound it; heav'n! high heav'n shall ring!
And the bright seraph sound it on the wing.
When shrines decay and moulder into dust,
The Parian statue, urn, and sculptur'd bust.—
Nay, when Creation bursts her bounding chain,
And Night and Chaos re-assume their reign;
Then shall thy tow'ring fame transcendent rise,
And “HOWARD” ring with raptures thro' the skies.
Well may'st thou scorn, of fame like this secure,
The fragile statue and its records poor.
Well may thy Christian fortitude deride
The short-liv'd monuments of earthly pride;
Resign the praise by wond'ring mortals giv'n,
And all rewards despise but those of heav'n.

And ah! what great, what glorious visions rise?
I leave the earth; I tow'r into the skies;
And heav'n's bright conclave opens to my eyes.

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Seraphic forms, and Cherubim of fire,
And angels warbling to the speaking lyre!
Round the immortal throne they glorying stand,
The radiant beams stream forth on either hand.
With glowing rapture, all their voices raise;
The full choir'd anthem speaks the Maker's praise.
Their hallelujahs ring thro' all the skies,
And hallelujah heav'n's high vault replies.

Now the loud anthems cease. To softer notes
They string their harps, and tune their dulcet throats;
And thus they sing; “Oh HOWARD! sage divine!
“Whose pious deeds all other deeds outshine;
“With holy raptures, heav'nly spirits see
“Unfeign'd benevolence shine forth in thee;
“See Christian meekness ev'ry action guide,
“And see thee spurn the pomps of earthly pride:
“The sculptor's art, the fair inscribing verse,
“Which would to distant times thy worth rehearse.
“These honours all, philanthropist divine!
“Well pleas'd we see thee piously resign.

“Mortals behold! and while ye gaze admire,
“Let bright example Christian love inspire!

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“In HOWARD's actions ye at large may see,
“From worldly pride and affectation free,
“The brightest rays of pure philanthropy.

“Who now, deep skill'd in theory, shall dare,
“With arrogant presumption, to declare,
“The love of fame, by Nature's hand imprest,
“Reigns sov'reign monarch of each human breast?
“Who now shall say, that ev'ry noble deed
“Does from this great infirmity proceed?
“Lo! HOWARD's actions, past all question, prove
“A stronger impulse still—in Christian love.
“For who in chace of fame was ever led
“To tread the dangerous paths he loves to tread?
“Did ever love of fame the foot impel
“To tread infected shores, or tainted cell?
“Plagues, and infections; the polluted breath
“Of pestilential caverns, breathing death;
“And all the bloated horrors which abide
“In cells of anguish, who would brave for pride?
“Yet these did HOWARD: these, gaunt ills and more,
“In many a land, on many a distant shore,

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“Prompted alone by truly Christian zeal,
“Which teaches all for all mankind to feel.
“And when his native land, with honest pride
“Would sacred to his fame a pile provide;
“Jealous lest foreign climes his birth should claim,
“Would, while he yet survives, assert her fame,
“The matchless fame of giving HOWARD birth—
“HOWARD, who deals a blessing o'er the earth!
“Who, like the sun, attach'd to no one soil,
“Explores the varied globe with ceaseless toil,
“Where'er he meets with Anguish and Distress,
“To dart the Beams of Comfort, and to Bless.—
“And when his Country would, with sculptur'd fame,
“Reward his virtues, and assert her claim,
“With modest, meek, and disint'rested zeal,
“Which unfeign'd piety alone can feel,
“He, all humility, the fane resigns,
“And public plaudits (what he can) declines;
“Striving from man—admiring man! to hide
“The gen'rous deeds his labours scatter wide.
“But all in vain: for Virtue's ray divine,—
“Virtue like his, will still transcendent shine:

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“No cloud so thick which Modesty can spread,
“Or humble Meekness, round the radiant head
“Of such transcendent worth, can dim its ray:
“It needs no lustre from the garish day;
“But like the Gem , in native lustre bright,
“Shines most conspicuous when it shuns the light.
“The little virtues of a camp or crown
“May need to court it, to obtain renown;
“But pure Benevolence! so bright thy charms,
“That Fame, enamour'd, woos thee to her arms.
“In vain to secret shades you bashful fly;
“For she'll pursue more swift than thou canst fly;
“Where'er thou turn'st, enraptur'd bend her way,
“And force thee, blushing, to admiring day.

“Yes, HOWARD, yes, tho' still thou shouldst refuse
“The sculptur'd honours, and recording muse;
“Tho' thou wouldst still the praise deserv'd decline,
“Yet still thy virtues shall not want their shrine.
“While language lasts, and hearing shall remain,
“To list'ning youth the parent shall explain:
“How virtuous Howard plough'd the dang'rous sea,
“To cure infections, set the captive free,

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“Relieve the wretched, soften each distress,
“Bewail the guilty, and the wrong'd redress.
“Thus age to age thy virtue's shall impart;
“And HOWARD's SHRINE be rais'd in every heart.”

From ev'ry eye he wipes off ev'ry tear. Pope's Messiah.

Ode inscribed to John Howard, Esq; by Mr. Hayley.

Triumph of Benevolence. Supposed to be written by Pratt.

Milton calls Fame, “The last infirmity of noble minds.”

The diamond.