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Poems

Chiefly Written in Retirement, By John Thelwall; With Memoirs of the Life of the Author. Second Edition

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Stanzas On a clay candlestick, given to the Author by an esteemed and valuable friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Stanzas On a clay candlestick, given to the Author by an esteemed and valuable friend.

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(See Memoir, p. xix.)

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(From the same.)

The smallest gift from Friendship's partial hand
To generous minds acquires extrinsic worth;
As homeliest scenes our fond respects command,
If, haply, honour'd by some valu'd birth.
But thou, neat present of well-moulded clay!
From still superior motives claim'st my love;
In thee her humble emblem I survey,
Whose worth you shadow, and whose friendship prove.

103

The gift, where oft the visual radiance plays,
The nightly studies of my Muse befriends;
The giver, beaming wisdom's mental rays,
My mind irradiates, and my judgment mends.
With thee, what time the garish day is fled,
And Noise and Folly quit the sombre scene,
When Contemplation's deepest mantle spread,
Bids passion sleep, and judgment reign serene—
Oft shall my toil explore the classic ground
Where never selfish Care, with heavy eye,
Presum'd to pace his dull unfeeling round,
Dead to the generous woe, or liberal joy—
The classic realms of Fancy, ever gay!
Where smile the Graces, and where haunts the Muse;
Or there where Truth directs the hallow'd way,
Or heav'n-taught Science the dark maze pursues.
Nor will I pass with light unheedful tread
The realm, where midst the hoary wrecks of time,
Eventful Histroy hails the mighty dead,
And graves intent the instructive lore sublime.
There too, with solemn Ethics by her side,
I'll rove where Sentiment refines the heart;
Nor shun, with frigid and fastidious pride,
Where sportive Humour wings the glittering dart.
Thus the lov'd scenes where Learning, Genius shine,
Aided by thee, kind gift, will I explore;
And oft the donor hail, in whom combine
The mingled merits of their varied lore.

104

O! thou, who blend'st in thy capacious thought,
With these, what these could never teach alone,
The useful lore from life's great drama caught,
To sons of Science but too seldom known;
Fain would digressive Friendship here display
The liberal feelings of thy letter'd soul,
Whose partial care directs my dubious way,
Prompts the bright race, and aids me to the goal.
To infant Genius who a fostering friend,
Can watch the dawning of the faintest ray,
With kindling zeal its influence extend,
And chace the clouds of prejudice away.
O! should that seeming dawn, you kindly hail,
Prove no false glow-worm's short delusive gleam—
Thro' fortune's low'ring mists at length prevail,
And dart the lustre of no feeble beam;
In Poesy's horizon should it shine
(Fond, flattering thought!) in full meridian glow,
Then shall it boast the fostering care of Cline,
And, Hawes's worth shall unborn Ages know.
From mortal view by hard Misfortune hurl'd,
Deep in oblivion's chaos hid I lay:
He found, and plac'd me in the letter'd world,
There bad my verse a moral light display.
Yet still deep shadows o'er my genius hung,
The clouds of error, and the mists of doubt;
Misguided Taste her veil obscuring flung,
Nor Critic-Friendship mark'd the dubious rout.

105

From quick extinction then you kindly rose
(A heav'n-sent gale) the infant beam to save;
Chas'd, from my clouded course, these envious foes,
And to my rays recruited vigour gave.
Nor shall my mind, while night succeeds to day,
The grateful memory of thy worth resign—
Or Muse forget—while Muse can pour the lay,
Her best, her earliest benefactor—Cline.