The peripatetic or, Sketches of the heart, of nature and society; In a series of politico-sentimental journals, in verse and prose, of the eccentric excursions of Sylvanus Theophrastus; Supposed to be written by himself [by John Thelwall] |
 | [I]. | [VOL. I] |
 | II. |
| III. |
 | The peripatetic |  |
5
[I]. [VOL. I]
[And hence, my Stella! from thy feeling breast]
And hence, my Stella! from thy feeling breast
Oft steals the fondness of a murmuring sigh,
What time the cherub, downy-pinion'd Rest,
The couch of anxious Care is doom'd to fly;—
And oft (oh! painful to the generous heart
To view the anguish of the soul we love!)
Thy looks, expressive of the inward smart,
The frowns of wayward Destiny reprove,
While from the languid eye affection's glow
Efulgent beams, suffus'd with tearful woe.
Oft steals the fondness of a murmuring sigh,
What time the cherub, downy-pinion'd Rest,
The couch of anxious Care is doom'd to fly;—
6
To view the anguish of the soul we love!)
Thy looks, expressive of the inward smart,
The frowns of wayward Destiny reprove,
While from the languid eye affection's glow
Efulgent beams, suffus'd with tearful woe.
Ah! yet again Hygeia! yet return—
For thee I'll wakeful tune the matin song;
No more on high my watchful lamp shall burn,
Startling the midnight silence, to prolong
The 'laborate search; for dull as chaos prove
(Thy smile refus'd) clear truth and radiant fame;
Dull as the night of ignorance!—and Love—
Love's balmy touch, that joys the healthful frame,
The painful nerve of saddest sympathy
Alone can move, while all his roses die!
For thee I'll wakeful tune the matin song;
No more on high my watchful lamp shall burn,
Startling the midnight silence, to prolong
The 'laborate search; for dull as chaos prove
(Thy smile refus'd) clear truth and radiant fame;
Dull as the night of ignorance!—and Love—
Love's balmy touch, that joys the healthful frame,
The painful nerve of saddest sympathy
Alone can move, while all his roses die!
His genial torch no more the cheerful rays
That gild the fane of social Mirth can boast;
But faint a melancholy gleam displays—
(Its radiance faded, and its incense lost!)—
A sullen lamp thro' the funereal dome
That sheds its lustre o'er the sculptur'd name
Of joys low mouldering in the cheerless tomb.
Return then, roseate nymph! this drooping frame,
Woe-worn, renew with thy ethereal flame.
So shall the Muse intrusive care forego,
And Grief no more—dim Grief! while sighs the gale
Of love-instructed fears, her misty veil,
O'er fond Affection's brow shall envious throw,
Her smiles to cloud, and check her radiant glow.
That gild the fane of social Mirth can boast;
But faint a melancholy gleam displays—
(Its radiance faded, and its incense lost!)—
A sullen lamp thro' the funereal dome
That sheds its lustre o'er the sculptur'd name
Of joys low mouldering in the cheerless tomb.
Return then, roseate nymph! this drooping frame,
Woe-worn, renew with thy ethereal flame.
So shall the Muse intrusive care forego,
And Grief no more—dim Grief! while sighs the gale
Of love-instructed fears, her misty veil,
O'er fond Affection's brow shall envious throw,
Her smiles to cloud, and check her radiant glow.
9
[—Immortal Sages!]
—Immortal Sages!
Ye noblest benefactors of mankind!
Unworthy as I am to lift my soul
To thoughts of your beatitude, or hope,
In this degenerate superstitious age,
To emulate your glories, and revive
Those awful traits of unassuming wisdom,
Those precepts, whose simplicity of thought
Evinc'd the true sublime! O! let me, yet,
Indulge my raptur'd fancy for a while
With your high converse; and the fond idea
Sate with the glorious vision, as I roam
Forgetful of the world, its systems vain,
And all the crude conceits of bigot Folly,
Whose rage embroils, and thins the human race!
Ye noblest benefactors of mankind!
Unworthy as I am to lift my soul
To thoughts of your beatitude, or hope,
In this degenerate superstitious age,
To emulate your glories, and revive
Those awful traits of unassuming wisdom,
Those precepts, whose simplicity of thought
Evinc'd the true sublime! O! let me, yet,
Indulge my raptur'd fancy for a while
With your high converse; and the fond idea
Sate with the glorious vision, as I roam
Forgetful of the world, its systems vain,
And all the crude conceits of bigot Folly,
Whose rage embroils, and thins the human race!
And thou, majestic Athens! thou blest nurse
Of Arts and Knowledge, Liberty and Taste!
Under whose free invigorating laws
The giant-soul of heav'n-enlighten'd man
(Uncramp'd by tyrant badges of distinction,
Which virtue own'd not, nor which merit claim'd.)
Swell'd, tow'ring swell'd, to due proportion'd strength,
And left the pigmy slaves of future courts
With base despair to wonder at its greatness,
And mourn their fall, degenerate!—Say wilt thou,
Glory of ancient Freedom! say wilt thou
Permit me, on this rustic theatre,
While bold “Imagination bodies forth”
The god-like actors, here to represent
(Myself and heaven spectators of the scene)
The awful drama of thy mental greatness.
Of Arts and Knowledge, Liberty and Taste!
Under whose free invigorating laws
The giant-soul of heav'n-enlighten'd man
10
Which virtue own'd not, nor which merit claim'd.)
Swell'd, tow'ring swell'd, to due proportion'd strength,
And left the pigmy slaves of future courts
With base despair to wonder at its greatness,
And mourn their fall, degenerate!—Say wilt thou,
Glory of ancient Freedom! say wilt thou
Permit me, on this rustic theatre,
While bold “Imagination bodies forth”
The god-like actors, here to represent
(Myself and heaven spectators of the scene)
The awful drama of thy mental greatness.
These fields, these hedge-rows, and this simple turf,
Shall form my Academus: through this vale,
(Ye hallow'd manes of the boasts of Greece!)
Thro' this low vale will I suppose ye walk'd
Pouring divine instruction, or, reclin'd
Upon these verdant hillocks, musing deep,
The silent energy of soul collected,
And soar'd, on Contemplation's awful wing,
Into the highest heaven. Plato here
His mystic visions, daringly sublime!
Perhaps might have reveal'd; the subtile soul
Of far-fam'd Aristotle, musing here,
Might pierce the mazy labyrinth, and unfold
Nature's mysterious laws: there Socrates—
Divine old man!—Wisdom's transcendent boast!
And Patriot Virtue's most undaunted guide!—
With strong, persuasive plainness might define
The source of morals, and the eternal laws
Of heav'n-descended Truth—best friend of man!
Or, soaring to the highest stretch of thought,
Reveal what'er dull sense can comprehend
Of worlds more blest—futurity—and GOD!
Shall form my Academus: through this vale,
(Ye hallow'd manes of the boasts of Greece!)
Thro' this low vale will I suppose ye walk'd
Pouring divine instruction, or, reclin'd
Upon these verdant hillocks, musing deep,
The silent energy of soul collected,
And soar'd, on Contemplation's awful wing,
Into the highest heaven. Plato here
His mystic visions, daringly sublime!
Perhaps might have reveal'd; the subtile soul
Of far-fam'd Aristotle, musing here,
Might pierce the mazy labyrinth, and unfold
Nature's mysterious laws: there Socrates—
Divine old man!—Wisdom's transcendent boast!
And Patriot Virtue's most undaunted guide!—
With strong, persuasive plainness might define
The source of morals, and the eternal laws
Of heav'n-descended Truth—best friend of man!
11
Reveal what'er dull sense can comprehend
Of worlds more blest—futurity—and GOD!
12
[“To calm Reflection's sober train]
“To calm Reflection's sober train,
“Each plant a useful lesson gives:
“A moralizer on the plain
“Each turf and smiling blossom lives.”
“Each plant a useful lesson gives:
“A moralizer on the plain
“Each turf and smiling blossom lives.”
Such, while my infant fancy strove
Against Misfortune's sullen power,
And oft, in mead or smiling grove,
Pensive I rov'd the lonely hour.
Against Misfortune's sullen power,
And oft, in mead or smiling grove,
Pensive I rov'd the lonely hour.
13
Such were the notes, to lull my woe,
When first I wak'd the rustic string,
Blest Contemplation taught to flow,
While o'er me wav'd her seraph wing.
When first I wak'd the rustic string,
Blest Contemplation taught to flow,
While o'er me wav'd her seraph wing.
And trust me nymph or gentle swain
Who haunt the stream or shadowy dell,
Experience has confirm'd the strain
Which early tun'd my pensive shell.
Who haunt the stream or shadowy dell,
Experience has confirm'd the strain
Which early tun'd my pensive shell.
'Tis not alone the letter'd friend,
The busy world's instructive throng,
That can the useful lesson lend,
That lengthens Wisdom's vary'd song.
The busy world's instructive throng,
That can the useful lesson lend,
That lengthens Wisdom's vary'd song.
Go, hear the raging billow roar,
Go, mark the swiftly-changing cloud,
Or trace some rivulet's winding shore,
Some lowly vale, or mountain proud,
Go, mark the swiftly-changing cloud,
Or trace some rivulet's winding shore,
Some lowly vale, or mountain proud,
Or plung'd within some forest's shade,
Whose mingled boughs exclude the day,—
There shalt thou meet the heav'n-born maid,
And hear, entranc'd, her sacred lay.
Whose mingled boughs exclude the day,—
There shalt thou meet the heav'n-born maid,
And hear, entranc'd, her sacred lay.
16
[Sweet attic warbler! poet of the skies!]
Sweet attic warbler! poet of the skies!
To thee not vainly comes the genial Spring
To give a sordid joy. Thy little breast,
Fond as it flutters with returning glow,
Quivers the strain of rapture, which imparts
Congenial transport to attentive man,
And pays the bounteous season, with its song,
For the kind boon her cheering smile bestows.
To thee not vainly comes the genial Spring
To give a sordid joy. Thy little breast,
Fond as it flutters with returning glow,
Quivers the strain of rapture, which imparts
Congenial transport to attentive man,
And pays the bounteous season, with its song,
For the kind boon her cheering smile bestows.
Wake, sons of earth! who boast superior souls,
And hail the healthful gales with equal gratitude,
And give to other hearts the bliss ye feel.
The season teems instruction; and each gale
Pregnant with lib'ral blessings, far-diffus'd,
Whispers the strain of soul-expanding love—
Of love etherial! such whose genial tear,
Roll'd down the cheek of cherub-thron'd Compassion,
Melts the obdurate frost of stern distress,
And gives the stream of hope again to flow.
And hail the healthful gales with equal gratitude,
And give to other hearts the bliss ye feel.
The season teems instruction; and each gale
Pregnant with lib'ral blessings, far-diffus'd,
Whispers the strain of soul-expanding love—
Of love etherial! such whose genial tear,
Roll'd down the cheek of cherub-thron'd Compassion,
Melts the obdurate frost of stern distress,
And gives the stream of hope again to flow.
Yes, all is hope, and gratitude, and joy!
Murmurs this prattling rill—whose margeant turf
Drinks from its lucid urn a livelier hue—
Murmurs it not of peace and thankful praise?
Teems not the herbage thick with grateful dew?
Which, heaven-ascending, decks the radiant face
Of yonder azure sky, that sheds its smiles
To cheer the wak'ning verdure, and adorn
With gay enamel all its foodful turf!
Ah! joins not all—all Nature's gen'ral voice
To swell the chorus of yon strain of joy?
Murmurs this prattling rill—whose margeant turf
Drinks from its lucid urn a livelier hue—
Murmurs it not of peace and thankful praise?
Teems not the herbage thick with grateful dew?
Which, heaven-ascending, decks the radiant face
Of yonder azure sky, that sheds its smiles
To cheer the wak'ning verdure, and adorn
With gay enamel all its foodful turf!
Ah! joins not all—all Nature's gen'ral voice
To swell the chorus of yon strain of joy?
17
Then pour—sweet poet of the radiant morn!
Pour thy loud hymn of rapture on the ear
Of All-bestowing Providence! nor cease
Till Philomela, from the list'ning woods,
With other strains relieve thy wearied throat:
Strains seeming sad, and solemn as the hour;
Though yet of like devotion with thy own:
Instructive her's of resignation's charm,
And thine instinct with gratitude and love!
Pour thy loud hymn of rapture on the ear
Of All-bestowing Providence! nor cease
Till Philomela, from the list'ning woods,
With other strains relieve thy wearied throat:
Strains seeming sad, and solemn as the hour;
Though yet of like devotion with thy own:
Instructive her's of resignation's charm,
And thine instinct with gratitude and love!
18
[Though, loudest of the feather'd choir]
Though, loudest of the feather'd choir
Alauda pour the vocal strain,
To heav'n, with raptur'd wing, aspire,
And, floating through the etherial plain,
Call up the radiant East to raise
The choral song of pious praise;
Yet shall the stork, whose grateful wing
Aloft the feeble parent bears,
(What though no labour'd strain she sing!)
And kindly shares,
And sooths his cares;
Or she, whose fond maternal breast
To all the younglings of her nest
Pours, nutritive, the vital stream,
(Though ne'er she sail'd, with stately pride,
Down warbling Pindus's sacred tide,
To join the muse's hallow'd lays,
And heav'n-ward waft the song of praise,)
More bask in Heav'n's approving beam.
Alauda pour the vocal strain,
To heav'n, with raptur'd wing, aspire,
And, floating through the etherial plain,
Call up the radiant East to raise
The choral song of pious praise;
Yet shall the stork, whose grateful wing
Aloft the feeble parent bears,
(What though no labour'd strain she sing!)
And kindly shares,
And sooths his cares;
Or she, whose fond maternal breast
To all the younglings of her nest
Pours, nutritive, the vital stream,
(Though ne'er she sail'd, with stately pride,
Down warbling Pindus's sacred tide,
To join the muse's hallow'd lays,
And heav'n-ward waft the song of praise,)
More bask in Heav'n's approving beam.
Then, as in the social sphere
Man a wider range enjoys,
Let his hallow'd zeal appear
In the blessings it supplies.
Man a wider range enjoys,
Let his hallow'd zeal appear
In the blessings it supplies.
19
Vain the Wood-lark's hermit's strain,
Musing through the lone retreat;
Vain the sweet aspiring vein
Of yon minstrel, warbling sweet;
Musing through the lone retreat;
Vain the sweet aspiring vein
Of yon minstrel, warbling sweet;
Vain, alike, the hymn, the pray'r,
Pride's full-oft, or Sloth's pretence:
Would you Heaven's best favour share,
Be your suit—benevolence!
Pride's full-oft, or Sloth's pretence:
Would you Heaven's best favour share,
Be your suit—benevolence!
Whence, as from the genial beam,
Darting o'er the humid ground,
Fruitful blessings ever teem,
Realms, and smiling worlds around!
Darting o'er the humid ground,
Fruitful blessings ever teem,
Realms, and smiling worlds around!
20
[Thee, vital beam! fair Virtue's guide!]
Thee, vital beam! fair Virtue's guide!
And terror of the guilty soul,
From Heav'n's immortal throne supply'd
Fear's haggard empire to controul!
And terror of the guilty soul,
From Heav'n's immortal throne supply'd
Fear's haggard empire to controul!
Thee, thee I hail! the emblem fair
Of sacred Truth's eternal charm—
Whose glance appals with swift despair
Tyrannic Fraud's oppressive arm!
Of sacred Truth's eternal charm—
Whose glance appals with swift despair
Tyrannic Fraud's oppressive arm!
Thee, whom the felon dreads to view,
As tyrants dread fair Reason's ray!
Thee will I hail, with rev'rence due,
Protectress of my lonely way.
As tyrants dread fair Reason's ray!
Thee will I hail, with rev'rence due,
Protectress of my lonely way.
21
Then cast, fair beam! thy radiant spell around,
By which the ruffian's hardy sinew fails,
His iron soul in magic fetters bound,
While conscious dread o'er each stern thought prevails.
By which the ruffian's hardy sinew fails,
His iron soul in magic fetters bound,
While conscious dread o'er each stern thought prevails.
24
[Ah! keen the pang of friendless Woe]
Ah! keen the pang of friendless Woe,
When Want impels the falt'ring tongue
Its modest silence to forego,
And supplicate the passing throng!
When Want impels the falt'ring tongue
Its modest silence to forego,
And supplicate the passing throng!
25
Ah, keen the pang, if cold Neglect
Avert the inauspicious eye,
With seeming scorn the suit reject,
And check the sympathetic sigh!
Avert the inauspicious eye,
With seeming scorn the suit reject,
And check the sympathetic sigh!
31
[But come, fair Freedom, heav'n-born maid!]
But come, fair Freedom, heav'n-born maid!
Shake off Corruption's sordid chain,
And, in thy native smiles array'd,
The artist cheer and drooping swain.
Shake off Corruption's sordid chain,
And, in thy native smiles array'd,
The artist cheer and drooping swain.
Let Pride no more, in pamper'd state,
Exulting in an empty name,
On trampled crowds her throne elate,
And Labour's honest earnings claim.
Exulting in an empty name,
On trampled crowds her throne elate,
And Labour's honest earnings claim.
No more let Britons, bought and sold
By venal Party's selfish art,
The mockery of thy form behold,
And feel Oppression's real smart.
By venal Party's selfish art,
The mockery of thy form behold,
And feel Oppression's real smart.
But shew thy energetic soul,
And in thy awful frowns appear:
Those frowns that tyrant Pride controul,
And thrill Corruption's nerve with fear.
And in thy awful frowns appear:
Those frowns that tyrant Pride controul,
And thrill Corruption's nerve with fear.
Let false Distinction's pageant flee:
Be worth and parts alone rever'd:
Let ev'ry Briton feel he's free,
And ev'ry freeman's voice be heard.
Be worth and parts alone rever'd:
Let ev'ry Briton feel he's free,
And ev'ry freeman's voice be heard.
Then Labour's solitary ewe
Luxurious courts shall sieze no more.
Then Plenty shall her smiles renew,
And Misery fly the British shore!
Luxurious courts shall sieze no more.
Then Plenty shall her smiles renew,
And Misery fly the British shore!
35
[Daughters of Albion's gay enlighten'd hour!]
Daughters of Albion's gay enlighten'd hour!
Hail the sweet strains your captive warblers pour;
Their graceful forms and downy plumage prize,
And the gay lustre of their varied dyes;
Nor ever think, while tremulous they sing,
Or flutt'ring spread the glossy-tinctur'd wing,
That fluttering wing, that tremulated strain
Of lingering griefs, and cruel bonds complain:
Nor ever think—that, for a sordid joy,
Their hopes, their rights, affections ye destroy;
Doom them the air's unbounded space to change,
For the dull cage's loath'd, contracted range;
There, every social throb condemn'd to mourn
Which each sad summer bids in vain return.
Hail the sweet strains your captive warblers pour;
Their graceful forms and downy plumage prize,
And the gay lustre of their varied dyes;
Nor ever think, while tremulous they sing,
Or flutt'ring spread the glossy-tinctur'd wing,
That fluttering wing, that tremulated strain
Of lingering griefs, and cruel bonds complain:
Nor ever think—that, for a sordid joy,
Their hopes, their rights, affections ye destroy;
Doom them the air's unbounded space to change,
For the dull cage's loath'd, contracted range;
There, every social throb condemn'd to mourn
Which each sad summer bids in vain return.
Daughters of Albion's gay enlighten'd day!
To man alike your sympathy display!
Heedless of groans, of anguish, and of chains,
Of stripes inflicted, and tormenting pains,
At morn, at eve, your sweeten'd beverage sup,
Nor see the blood of thousands in the cup.
To man alike your sympathy display!
Heedless of groans, of anguish, and of chains,
Of stripes inflicted, and tormenting pains,
At morn, at eve, your sweeten'd beverage sup,
Nor see the blood of thousands in the cup.
What though each sweet effluvium, ere it rise,
Have clogg'd the western gale with Afric's sighs,
Each sweeten'd drop yon porc'lain cell contains,
Was drawn, O, horror! from some brother's veins;
Or, wrought by chemic art, on terms too dear,
Is but transmuted from some negro's tear,
Which dropt, 'midst galling bonds, on foreign strand,
His bride still answers from his native land!—
Still turn indiff'rent from these foreign woes,
Nor suffer griefs so distant to oppose
The sickly taste, whose languid pulse to cheer
Two rifled worlds must drop the bitter tear!—
For what is Afric, what the Eastern Ind
To Europe's race, by polish'd arts refin'd?
Or why should pamper'd Luxury enquire
Who by the sword, or by the lash expire?
Have clogg'd the western gale with Afric's sighs,
Each sweeten'd drop yon porc'lain cell contains,
Was drawn, O, horror! from some brother's veins;
Or, wrought by chemic art, on terms too dear,
Is but transmuted from some negro's tear,
Which dropt, 'midst galling bonds, on foreign strand,
His bride still answers from his native land!—
Still turn indiff'rent from these foreign woes,
Nor suffer griefs so distant to oppose
36
Two rifled worlds must drop the bitter tear!—
For what is Afric, what the Eastern Ind
To Europe's race, by polish'd arts refin'd?
Or why should pamper'd Luxury enquire
Who by the sword, or by the lash expire?
Daughters of Albion, still this path pursue!
Be sense and appetite your only aim:
From prostrate Pity turn the giddy view,
And gracious Mercy's pleading voice disclaim.
Be sense and appetite your only aim:
From prostrate Pity turn the giddy view,
And gracious Mercy's pleading voice disclaim.
Meanwhile with feeble step and mincing tone,
Pretend to softness, delicacy, love!
High place yourselves on Admiration's throne,
While fancied graces round obsequious move:
Pretend to softness, delicacy, love!
High place yourselves on Admiration's throne,
While fancied graces round obsequious move:
Whence (while for wretches, for your tastes aggriev'd,
Ye slight each effort to obtain redress)
Lisp forth, to those by whom 'twill be believ'd,
Your tender feeling's exquisite excess!
Ye slight each effort to obtain redress)
Lisp forth, to those by whom 'twill be believ'd,
Your tender feeling's exquisite excess!
38
[Commerce! thou doubtful, and thou partial good!]
Commerce! thou doubtful, and thou partial good!
'Tis true by thee we swell to Wealth and Power;
And Britain's name, and Britain's arts by thee
Are wafted to each region of the Globe,
Bringing, in rich return, their varied tributes
Of wealth and elegance, and the rare boon
To which, o'er all, we owe the power to soar
Above the brute, toward the god-like frame
Of heaven-pervading natures—glorious science!
Man's noblest privilege! But then by thee—
(With grief the muse records it) oft by thee
War, savage War! too, lifts his brazen voice,
To bellow hideous discord through the World;
To deluge guiltless realms with native blood,
At mad Ambition's and at Avarice' call;
'Gainst human woe to steel the human breast,
Inflame the rancour of compatriot strife,
And press Oppression's foot with fiercer wrath
On the bow'd neck of Misery's fallen race.
'Tis true by thee we swell to Wealth and Power;
And Britain's name, and Britain's arts by thee
Are wafted to each region of the Globe,
Bringing, in rich return, their varied tributes
Of wealth and elegance, and the rare boon
To which, o'er all, we owe the power to soar
Above the brute, toward the god-like frame
Of heaven-pervading natures—glorious science!
Man's noblest privilege! But then by thee—
(With grief the muse records it) oft by thee
War, savage War! too, lifts his brazen voice,
To bellow hideous discord through the World;
To deluge guiltless realms with native blood,
At mad Ambition's and at Avarice' call;
'Gainst human woe to steel the human breast,
Inflame the rancour of compatriot strife,
39
On the bow'd neck of Misery's fallen race.
'Tis thine, too, Commerce, thro' thy native land
To pour, wide-wasting, like a deluge, round
The poison'd stream of Luxury, rank-poluted!
The monster breeding Nile of hideous vice,
From whose oft stagnant pools incessant spring
A loath'd mishapen swarm, which Nature's eye
Turns haggard to behold.
To pour, wide-wasting, like a deluge, round
The poison'd stream of Luxury, rank-poluted!
The monster breeding Nile of hideous vice,
From whose oft stagnant pools incessant spring
A loath'd mishapen swarm, which Nature's eye
Turns haggard to behold.
Thou, Commerce, too, monopolizing fiend!
Fatten'st a few upon the toils of all;
And while thy favour'd sons, in Parian domes,
Rival the pomp of regal splendour, lo!
In every town whose charter'd insolence
Barters to Britain's sons the Freeman's name,
If there thy throne is fix'd, what hundreds throng
Each sad retreat of Wretchedness, or fill
The public streets with wants' afflictive plaint;
Mourning thy fickle and capricious sway,
Whose endless changes, tho' the rich not feel,
(For Protean gold will ever find employ)
Oft robs the pale mechanic of his bread,
And dooms the pensioner of diurnal toil,
For half the year, perhaps, to idle want;
Perhaps in age to learn a new employ.
Fatten'st a few upon the toils of all;
And while thy favour'd sons, in Parian domes,
Rival the pomp of regal splendour, lo!
In every town whose charter'd insolence
Barters to Britain's sons the Freeman's name,
If there thy throne is fix'd, what hundreds throng
Each sad retreat of Wretchedness, or fill
The public streets with wants' afflictive plaint;
Mourning thy fickle and capricious sway,
Whose endless changes, tho' the rich not feel,
(For Protean gold will ever find employ)
Oft robs the pale mechanic of his bread,
And dooms the pensioner of diurnal toil,
For half the year, perhaps, to idle want;
Perhaps in age to learn a new employ.
41
Ode to the American Republic.
Yes, child of Britain! soul of flame!
Whose energetic valour rose
Triumphant o'er Oppression's woes
To unknown heights of Freedom's aweful fame!
Whose energetic valour rose
Triumphant o'er Oppression's woes
To unknown heights of Freedom's aweful fame!
Yes, thou, who first the brazen yoke
Of loath'd distinctions, false! and vain!
And Privilege's tyrant chain,
By Wisdom's voice inspir'd, indignant broke!
Of loath'd distinctions, false! and vain!
And Privilege's tyrant chain,
By Wisdom's voice inspir'd, indignant broke!
Thou, thou to Britain's parent clime
(That made thee, by oppression, free)
Shalt waft the gallant thought sublime
That pants for genuine liberty!
(That made thee, by oppression, free)
Shalt waft the gallant thought sublime
That pants for genuine liberty!
Tho' reverend Error's slow disease
Her age's doating vitals freeze,
Yet thou shalt send the healing balm
Which (like Medea's boasted charm)
The enfeebling ill shall soon dismiss,
And renovate Britannia's bliss.
Her age's doating vitals freeze,
Yet thou shalt send the healing balm
Which (like Medea's boasted charm)
The enfeebling ill shall soon dismiss,
And renovate Britannia's bliss.
57
[Dear social dome, from whom awhile]
Dear social dome, from whom awhile,
With truant steps, I rove,
That so at eve thy cheerful smile
May more endearing prove!
With truant steps, I rove,
That so at eve thy cheerful smile
May more endearing prove!
58
That so, as my eccentric feet
Through wilds and woodlands stray,
Or quit awhile the lone retreat,
Life's follies to survey,
Through wilds and woodlands stray,
Or quit awhile the lone retreat,
Life's follies to survey,
What scenes in human life prevail
And Nature's varying hues,
May lengthen out the cheerful tale,
Thy circle to amuse.
And Nature's varying hues,
May lengthen out the cheerful tale,
Thy circle to amuse.
To thee, thus pleas'd, and gay at heart,
My anxious step returns,
The day's adventures to impart,
While blithe the faggot burns.
My anxious step returns,
The day's adventures to impart,
While blithe the faggot burns.
60
[O Grief! how oft thy wizard-touch, malign]
O Grief! how oft thy wizard-touch, malign,
On the fair form of youthful manhood laid,
Bids every graceful energy decline,
And all the blooms of vernal promise fade!
On the fair form of youthful manhood laid,
Bids every graceful energy decline,
And all the blooms of vernal promise fade!
Thy blasting power not Lucio's self could shun:
Lucio, now mouldering in the silent tomb,
The race of mental glory born to run—
Could early worth foretel the ripening doom.
Lucio, now mouldering in the silent tomb,
The race of mental glory born to run—
Could early worth foretel the ripening doom.
His cultur'd mind, his elegance of form,
Sunk—ling'ring sunk beneath thy gloomy sway,
Nor left a heart so gen'rous, or so warm,
To mourn his sorrows, and his worth display.
Sunk—ling'ring sunk beneath thy gloomy sway,
Nor left a heart so gen'rous, or so warm,
To mourn his sorrows, and his worth display.
Nor shall the roses on the cheek I love
(If e'er thy breath, O stygian pow'r! they feel)
Or eyes, whose beams the kindling bosom move,
The winning graces of the soul reveal!
(If e'er thy breath, O stygian pow'r! they feel)
Or eyes, whose beams the kindling bosom move,
The winning graces of the soul reveal!
61
And see where Belmour, “bending o'er his tread,”
Steals in sad negligence from human view,
Prone o'er the turf declines his waving head,
As o'er the grave some dark funereal yew.
Steals in sad negligence from human view,
Prone o'er the turf declines his waving head,
As o'er the grave some dark funereal yew.
The folded arms, the heaving breast declare,
And mutter'd plaints that mock the hollow wind,
The once-gay fav'rite of the smiling fair
To wild'ring woe and maniac pangs resign'd.
And mutter'd plaints that mock the hollow wind,
The once-gay fav'rite of the smiling fair
To wild'ring woe and maniac pangs resign'd.
Fled is the lustre of that piercing eye
Which beam'd invention, dignity, and taste!
Lost ev'ry pow'r that wak'd the social joy!
Each feature faded! and each charm effac'd!
Which beam'd invention, dignity, and taste!
Lost ev'ry pow'r that wak'd the social joy!
Each feature faded! and each charm effac'd!
How must the soul that, 'midst the kindred throng,
Oft hail'd the sprightly graces of his mien,
Weep to behold him pensive glide along
The wand'ring ghost of what he once has been!
Oft hail'd the sprightly graces of his mien,
Weep to behold him pensive glide along
The wand'ring ghost of what he once has been!
68
[Thee, Queen of pensive Visions! to whose ear]
Thee, Queen of pensive Visions! to whose earSad Philomela pours her nightly moan,
While far-diffus'd thy modest beams appear
O'er hills, vales, groves, and purling riv'lets thrown—
Thee, nurse of thought!—or if thy silver ray
Break through the fleecy-margin'd clouds, serene,
Between the Aspine's trembling leaf to play,
Or spread thy light o'er Ocean's boundless scene,—
Or if, sublime! one spacious orb of fire,
Behind the eastern wave thou risest slow,
Confronting, while his dazzling wheels retire,
The varied tints of Day's expiring glow—
Thee, placid Queen! whatever tint be thine,
Thee will I woo, while solemn Silence reigns;
Thee, whose mild lustre sheds the calm divine
That wild emotion's painful throb restrains!
And, O, 'tis thine, with thought-subliming ray,
To wake the seraph power that wings the soul
To heights unthought amidst the garish day,
Beyond the bounds that Vision's orb controul.
Thine, too, to lead to Inspiration's spring
The Muse, sweet soother of my pensive hours!
To plume afresh young Fancy's tow'ring wing,
And give to magic verse sublimer powers.
76
[O Reason! “first-created beam!”]
O Reason! “first-created beam!”
That through the night of Chaos broke,
And pour'd the plastic vital stream
Whence form and beauteous order woke!—
That through the night of Chaos broke,
And pour'd the plastic vital stream
Whence form and beauteous order woke!—
O Reason! first-created beam!
Existing Nature's boundless soul!
Dart through this cloud thy cheerful gleam,
And ev'ry gloomy fear controul.
Existing Nature's boundless soul!
Dart through this cloud thy cheerful gleam,
And ev'ry gloomy fear controul.
O! put the shadowy train to flight
That stalk in Terror's dubious night,
And ev'ry wild'ring thought restrain
That racks the Sceptic's throbbing brain!
That stalk in Terror's dubious night,
And ev'ry wild'ring thought restrain
That racks the Sceptic's throbbing brain!
77
[Then hail! fair Reason's golden ray!]
Then hail! fair Reason's golden ray!
That, chasing Superstition's gloom,
Restores of Truth the peaceful day,
And gives each mental joy to bloom!
That, chasing Superstition's gloom,
Restores of Truth the peaceful day,
And gives each mental joy to bloom!
To thee, true
Virtue's only friend!
Be my implicit reverence given:
To thee, may every Passion bend,
And own the genuine voice of Heaven!
Be my implicit reverence given:
To thee, may every Passion bend,
And own the genuine voice of Heaven!
91
[For sweet, when Morning streaks the vernal sky]
For sweet, when Morning streaks the vernal sky,
To quit the oblivious couch of dull repose,
Mark in light troops the scatter'd shadows fly,
And all the azure pomps of heav'n disclose;
To quit the oblivious couch of dull repose,
Mark in light troops the scatter'd shadows fly,
And all the azure pomps of heav'n disclose;
And sweet to hear from ev'ry dripping thorn,
(Whose dew-drops glitter in the early ray,)
Or high in air, on russet pinions borne,
The joyous song that hails returning day!
(Whose dew-drops glitter in the early ray,)
Or high in air, on russet pinions borne,
The joyous song that hails returning day!
92
And sweet, ascending to the verdant brow
Of some proud hill, to cast the eye around
O'er reeking vales and meadows stretch'd below,
That seem like lakes—in teeming vapour drown'd!
Of some proud hill, to cast the eye around
O'er reeking vales and meadows stretch'd below,
That seem like lakes—in teeming vapour drown'd!
But ah! nor vernal sky, nor blushing dawn,
Nor scatt'ring clouds, nor azure vault on high,
Nor linnet warbling from the glittering thorn,
Nor soaring lark that wakes the strain of joy;
Nor scatt'ring clouds, nor azure vault on high,
Nor linnet warbling from the glittering thorn,
Nor soaring lark that wakes the strain of joy;
No; nor the prospect from the swelling height
Of reeking valleys spread like lakes below,
Nor all the pleasures of the ravish'd sight
Like friendly Converse wake the raptur'd glow!
Of reeking valleys spread like lakes below,
Nor all the pleasures of the ravish'd sight
Like friendly Converse wake the raptur'd glow!
This the true Hermes who, with feather'd heel,
Flits unfatigued along the lengthen'd way,
And bears the wand of Science, to reveal
Whate'er of Wisdom in the path may lay.
Flits unfatigued along the lengthen'd way,
And bears the wand of Science, to reveal
Whate'er of Wisdom in the path may lay.
Then Friendship come, and with thy soothing lore
New charms o'er every vernal scene diffuse,
The landscape gild, the human heart explore,
And prompt the fervours of a moral muse!
New charms o'er every vernal scene diffuse,
The landscape gild, the human heart explore,
And prompt the fervours of a moral muse!
98
[Still asthe young Enthusiast I pursue]
Still asthe young Enthusiast I pursue,
And eager trace his lonely wanderings wild,
Fresh rise the haunted scenes to Fancy's view
Which oft the throbbings of this heart beguil'd;
And eager trace his lonely wanderings wild,
Fresh rise the haunted scenes to Fancy's view
Which oft the throbbings of this heart beguil'd;
Through which the Muse, full oft, in pensive mood,
Has led me, 'raptur'd, all the livelong day,
(Charm'd with wild Nature's works, sublimely rude!)
To point the moral, and attune the lay:—
Has led me, 'raptur'd, all the livelong day,
(Charm'd with wild Nature's works, sublimely rude!)
To point the moral, and attune the lay:—
Where oft, in ecstasies of mournful thought,
Enthusiast Fancy rush'd upon my soul,
And tun'd the airy harp, whose whispers taught
The force of gloomy passions to controul:—
Enthusiast Fancy rush'd upon my soul,
And tun'd the airy harp, whose whispers taught
The force of gloomy passions to controul:—
Where, of the sordid World forgetful grown,
Its wants, its cares, its slanders, and its hate,
By Meditation's friendly aid alone,
I snatch'd a boon amidst the frowns of fate.
Its wants, its cares, its slanders, and its hate,
By Meditation's friendly aid alone,
I snatch'd a boon amidst the frowns of fate.
O! bowers of Enfield!—Woods, and wilds, and streams,
Whose mazy wanderings spread enchantment round;
Where oft, protected from the noon-tide beams,
These limbs have stretch'd along the mossy ground;
Whose mazy wanderings spread enchantment round;
Where oft, protected from the noon-tide beams,
These limbs have stretch'd along the mossy ground;
99
Where oft the Lark has call'd me up to roam,
And lose in Nature's charms Misfortune's pain;
Till Evening's pensive songster warn'd me home;
Yet held me list'ning to her mournful strain.
And lose in Nature's charms Misfortune's pain;
Till Evening's pensive songster warn'd me home;
Yet held me list'ning to her mournful strain.
O bowers of Enfield! and thou bushy dell,
Beside whose runnels as I wont to rove
My trembling fingers first attun'd the shell
To notes responsive of neglected love!—
Beside whose runnels as I wont to rove
My trembling fingers first attun'd the shell
To notes responsive of neglected love!—
There too, oft loitering in the darkling glade,
The moral Muse that sung Amanda's woe
Frequent I wooed, the mournful theme to aid,
And teach my infant numbers how to flow.
The moral Muse that sung Amanda's woe
Frequent I wooed, the mournful theme to aid,
And teach my infant numbers how to flow.
O bowers of Enfield! which some future lay
Shall sing—Might Heav'n permit the song to live.
O!—dear-remember'd bowers and riv'lets! say
To me what joys could rural nature give.
Shall sing—Might Heav'n permit the song to live.
O!—dear-remember'd bowers and riv'lets! say
To me what joys could rural nature give.
And thou! gay Surry!—thou, whose pastur'd lawns,
Clear-smiling brooks, and gently-sloping hills,
Luxuriant verdure's gayest tint adorns,
While thro' each grove the sweetest music trils!—
Clear-smiling brooks, and gently-sloping hills,
Luxuriant verdure's gayest tint adorns,
While thro' each grove the sweetest music trils!—
Thee, Queen of Beauty! whose enamell'd vales
And graceful foliage Thames delights to view,
While o'er his channel crowd the sportive sails
Thy winding bounds, luxuriant, to pursue;—
And graceful foliage Thames delights to view,
While o'er his channel crowd the sportive sails
Thy winding bounds, luxuriant, to pursue;—
100
Thee, from thy throne, on Richmond's beauteous height,
Where streams, groves, villas, at thy footstool lay,
Will I invoke, to say with what delight
Among thy smiling scenes I wont to stray.
Where streams, groves, villas, at thy footstool lay,
Will I invoke, to say with what delight
Among thy smiling scenes I wont to stray.
For thou hast seen me oft, at Evening hour,
Thy wild-wood flowrets twining round my head,
With fixt regard each glowing tint devour
By waining Phœbus o'er the welkin spread:—
Thy wild-wood flowrets twining round my head,
With fixt regard each glowing tint devour
By waining Phœbus o'er the welkin spread:—
And thou hast mark'd me, in the woodland scene,
With infant fingers cull the mossy store,
And still, with meditative smile serene,
Each various product's various hues explore:—
With infant fingers cull the mossy store,
And still, with meditative smile serene,
Each various product's various hues explore:—
But chief where'er the silver-fretted brook
Pour'd its low cadence, hast thou seen me stray,
To mark its eddies oft, with pensive look,
While glanc'd the noon-tide, or the Lunar ray.
Pour'd its low cadence, hast thou seen me stray,
To mark its eddies oft, with pensive look,
While glanc'd the noon-tide, or the Lunar ray.
101
[Hail, Meditation! modest maid!]
Hail, Meditation! modest maid!
Who rov'st full oft, in thoughtful mood,
By haunted brook, or shadowy glade,
Or o'er the heath-clad mountain rude
To meet the Muse, wild Fancy's child!
Companion of thy pensive hours;
Who glads the dark-hued forest wild,
And decks the barren wold with flow'rs.
Who rov'st full oft, in thoughtful mood,
By haunted brook, or shadowy glade,
Or o'er the heath-clad mountain rude
To meet the Muse, wild Fancy's child!
Companion of thy pensive hours;
Who glads the dark-hued forest wild,
And decks the barren wold with flow'rs.
102
And as ye, thus, Enthusiast Pair!
In mental converse loitering stray,
And Nature's cheering beauties share,
Instruction beams to gild your way:
Nor, yet, external scenes alone
The moralizing theme impart—
Your searching glances, inward thrown,
Correct the feelings of the heart.
In mental converse loitering stray,
And Nature's cheering beauties share,
Instruction beams to gild your way:
Nor, yet, external scenes alone
The moralizing theme impart—
Your searching glances, inward thrown,
Correct the feelings of the heart.
For who with serious eye can view
Those scenes the Muse delights to hail,
Or Meditation's flight pursue,
Nor feel the generous thought prevail?
From Nature's hand on all around
(Meads graz'd by flocks, and choral shades)
Since Love's benignant stamp is found,
And Sympathy thro' all pervades.
Those scenes the Muse delights to hail,
Or Meditation's flight pursue,
Nor feel the generous thought prevail?
From Nature's hand on all around
(Meads graz'd by flocks, and choral shades)
Since Love's benignant stamp is found,
And Sympathy thro' all pervades.
Ah! sure, if all to human kind
Their tributary blessings bring,
To glad the sense, or sooth the mind,
Or vibrate pleasure's genial string—
Ah! sure, where'er a nerve is found
To feel delight, or suffer woe,
There Man, by every tie, is bound
Or this to ward, or that bestow.
Their tributary blessings bring,
To glad the sense, or sooth the mind,
Or vibrate pleasure's genial string—
Ah! sure, where'er a nerve is found
To feel delight, or suffer woe,
There Man, by every tie, is bound
Or this to ward, or that bestow.
Then let me, sweet Enthusiasts! moan;
Nor check the tear ye taught to fall;
That future feelings may atone
For scenes I can no more recall.
And let the Woodlark's plaintive trill,
And her's who charms the twilight grove,
Their mournful lessons oft instill,
And virtue's tender pang improve.
Nor check the tear ye taught to fall;
That future feelings may atone
For scenes I can no more recall.
103
And her's who charms the twilight grove,
Their mournful lessons oft instill,
And virtue's tender pang improve.
108
[“Then give me, Nymph! the unbought smile]
“Then give me, Nymph! the unbought smile,
More sweet than Grandeur ever knew,
Which gilds the heart, and cheers the toil
Of those who Wisdom's path pursue.
More sweet than Grandeur ever knew,
Which gilds the heart, and cheers the toil
Of those who Wisdom's path pursue.
Yes, Pleasure! yes—by Wisdom's side
Thou shed'st thy brightest, purest ray,
While envious clouds innoxious glide,
Nor interrupt thy genial day:
Nor wilt thou, from thy modest throne,
With chilling scorn, disdain to bend
To suitors who, to Wealth unknown,
In homely weeds thy train attend.
Thou shed'st thy brightest, purest ray,
While envious clouds innoxious glide,
Nor interrupt thy genial day:
Nor wilt thou, from thy modest throne,
With chilling scorn, disdain to bend
To suitors who, to Wealth unknown,
In homely weeds thy train attend.
No:—They, the slaves of empty State,
Who wooe thee, Nymph, in gilt array,
Aloof in anti-chambers wait,
Nor e'er thy radiant form survey;
Who wooe thee, Nymph, in gilt array,
Aloof in anti-chambers wait,
Nor e'er thy radiant form survey;
109
While they, with philosophic air,
Who noise, nor shew, nor fashion heed,
Within, thy partial favours share—
To Virtue's sons alone decreed.
Who noise, nor shew, nor fashion heed,
Within, thy partial favours share—
To Virtue's sons alone decreed.
Then give me, Nymph! the unbought smile,
More sweet than Grandeur even knew,
Which gilds the heart, and cheers the toil
Of those who Wisdom's path pursue.”
More sweet than Grandeur even knew,
Which gilds the heart, and cheers the toil
Of those who Wisdom's path pursue.”
122
TO THE LARK.
“Hail lofty Pindar of the feather'd choir!
Whether at Heaven's blest gate, on mattin wing,
Soaring thou warblest, when young Maï first
Pours forth the gay luxuriance of her dies,
And hill and valley smile with sudden bloom.—
Whether at Heaven's blest gate, on mattin wing,
Soaring thou warblest, when young Maï first
Pours forth the gay luxuriance of her dies,
And hill and valley smile with sudden bloom.—
“Whether blithe soaring o'er the waving field,
Where bounteous Ceres pours forth all her store,
Veiling glad Nature's form in living gold,
Thy pipe, unfailing, roves through every change,
Lofty or soft, of melody divine.—
Where bounteous Ceres pours forth all her store,
Veiling glad Nature's form in living gold,
Thy pipe, unfailing, roves through every change,
Lofty or soft, of melody divine.—
“Or whether, 'scaping from the fatal tube,
What time the plunder'd stubble dusky mourns,
Still, Attic songster! to the listning soul
Thy strain shall warble gratitude and love!”
What time the plunder'd stubble dusky mourns,
Still, Attic songster! to the listning soul
Thy strain shall warble gratitude and love!”
130
[What needs the lofty-vaulted dome]
What needs the lofty-vaulted dome,
Where Grandeur draws the breath of pride;
Or spacious grove's exotic gloom,
Where labour'd streams are taught to glide?
Where Grandeur draws the breath of pride;
Or spacious grove's exotic gloom,
Where labour'd streams are taught to glide?
What needs the splendid couch of state?
Its silken hangings? beds of down?
Or piles of herald-sculptur'd plate,
That oft the wasteful table crown?
Its silken hangings? beds of down?
Or piles of herald-sculptur'd plate,
That oft the wasteful table crown?
On his hard palate stretch'd, at eve,
See labour's opiate lull the swain!
Or see him pleas'd, at noon, receive
With grateful heart, his viands plain!
See labour's opiate lull the swain!
Or see him pleas'd, at noon, receive
With grateful heart, his viands plain!
What is it, then,—Ye great ones say—
Your ostentation would impart,
That may not gild the rustic day,
And cheer the peasant's honest heart?
Your ostentation would impart,
That may not gild the rustic day,
And cheer the peasant's honest heart?
Is't Health (her cheeks with roses spread)?
Or Joy that gilds the favour'd mind?
Lo! these, beneath the lowliest shed,
The honest rustic knows to find!
Or Joy that gilds the favour'd mind?
Lo! these, beneath the lowliest shed,
The honest rustic knows to find!
131
His narrow cabins not exclude
The guest your spacious chambers woo;
Nor homely walls, however rude,
Shut beauteous splendor from his view:
The guest your spacious chambers woo;
Nor homely walls, however rude,
Shut beauteous splendor from his view:
For, wasted on the zephyr's wing,
Free thro' his open casement glides
The rosy nymph, while perfum'd Spring
Around in cheerful pomp presides.
Free thro' his open casement glides
The rosy nymph, while perfum'd Spring
Around in cheerful pomp presides.
And, as for bliss!—What is it? Say—
Ye who the palm of knowledge claim—
If e'er with man 'twere known to stray:
What is't but Virtue's other name?
Ye who the palm of knowledge claim—
If e'er with man 'twere known to stray:
What is't but Virtue's other name?
132
[Far, far away, ye little homely sheds!]
Far, far away, ye little homely sheds!
Far from this period be the baneful hour
When proud Improvement thro' the region spreads,
Builds o'er each spot, and fells each rustic bower!
Far from this period be the baneful hour
When proud Improvement thro' the region spreads,
Builds o'er each spot, and fells each rustic bower!
Here still may honest Industry retreat,
Here Poverty still breathe the untainted gale,
The rude ear listen to the carol sweet,
And join the strain the vernal year to hail!
Here Poverty still breathe the untainted gale,
The rude ear listen to the carol sweet,
And join the strain the vernal year to hail!
Here may the lark (for here the lark still sings)
And Philomel (for Philomel is here—
And oft what time her plaint of sorrow rings
Thro' the lone shrubbery, soothes my pensive ear.)
And Philomel (for Philomel is here—
And oft what time her plaint of sorrow rings
Thro' the lone shrubbery, soothes my pensive ear.)
133
Here may the lark, and Philomela's strain,
(Joy's gayest note and sorrow's sweetest flow!)
One rouse to labour still the lowly swain,
One soothe till slumber steeps his weary brow.
(Joy's gayest note and sorrow's sweetest flow!)
One rouse to labour still the lowly swain,
One soothe till slumber steeps his weary brow.
Nor let refining Grandeur grudge this spot—
This nook obscure to Indigence and Toil,
Where humbly bowing to their abject lot,
Health yet may cheer them with her blooming smile!
This nook obscure to Indigence and Toil,
Where humbly bowing to their abject lot,
Health yet may cheer them with her blooming smile!
160
[Who can behold great Nature's awful face]
Who can behold great Nature's awful face,
Her form majestic, and her varied grace;—
See through mid air yon orb refulgent stray,
And pour on smiling realms the flood of Day;
Or when still Night becalms the pensive soul,
See silver lamps in countless myriads roll;—
Mark heaving Ocean, while his tempests roar,
Or the slow lapse steals murmuring from the shore;—
See Earth's broad bosom, with perennial pride,
With various stores her various race provide;
Or mark, while round these obvious stores she deals,
What secret stores her verdant robe conceals:—
Who these can view?—Nay; who the turf, the flower
That decks the field, or scents the mantling bower,—
The smallest insect-tenant of the spring
That creeps on earth, or buzzes on the wing,
Who can behold—and blind to Reason's laws,
Not mount to THEE? thou FIRST ALMIGHTY CAUSE!
Her form majestic, and her varied grace;—
See through mid air yon orb refulgent stray,
And pour on smiling realms the flood of Day;
Or when still Night becalms the pensive soul,
See silver lamps in countless myriads roll;—
Mark heaving Ocean, while his tempests roar,
Or the slow lapse steals murmuring from the shore;—
See Earth's broad bosom, with perennial pride,
With various stores her various race provide;
Or mark, while round these obvious stores she deals,
What secret stores her verdant robe conceals:—
Who these can view?—Nay; who the turf, the flower
That decks the field, or scents the mantling bower,—
The smallest insect-tenant of the spring
That creeps on earth, or buzzes on the wing,
Who can behold—and blind to Reason's laws,
Not mount to THEE? thou FIRST ALMIGHTY CAUSE!
But, if bold Science her assistance lend—
If to her deep recesses we descend—
If there the tome mysterious we explore,
Of Nature's genuine theologic lore,
What wider fields of wisdom and delight
Unfold their beauties to our ravish'd sight!
Thro' which, with reverent wonder, we pursue
Creation's course, and Heaven's own footsteps view!
If to her deep recesses we descend—
If there the tome mysterious we explore,
Of Nature's genuine theologic lore,
What wider fields of wisdom and delight
Unfold their beauties to our ravish'd sight!
Thro' which, with reverent wonder, we pursue
Creation's course, and Heaven's own footsteps view!
163
[See where the heart, life's awful reservoir?]
See where the heart, life's awful reservoir?
That pours to every part the vital store,—
Great seat of Passion, at whose proud controul
Or slow, or wild the purple torrents roll—
(Now thrilling quick when, all the soul on fire,
Eyes the bright nymph, and pants with warm desire,
Now creeping slowly thro' the sluggish veins
When chilling Fear, or drooping Sorrow reigns)—
This awful power, on whom high heaven conferr'd
Of life's great charge the first important third!—
Timid, and conscious of her charge, she flies
To pant and flutter far from human eyes;
While the soft lungs, in flexile membrane bound,
Like fond maternal wings embrace her round:
And, while the current thro' each channel swells,
Woo the fresh zephyrs to their countless cells;
And, ere again the imprison'd gales retire,
Draw from their souls the pure electric fire —
The electric fire the passing streams impart
(Life's first great mover) to the swelling heart.
Should rude disaster these or that confound,
Life and Life's hope fly rapid from the wound:
Here 'scape the currrents whence we life receive,
The zephyrs there by which those currents live.
That pours to every part the vital store,—
Great seat of Passion, at whose proud controul
Or slow, or wild the purple torrents roll—
(Now thrilling quick when, all the soul on fire,
Eyes the bright nymph, and pants with warm desire,
Now creeping slowly thro' the sluggish veins
When chilling Fear, or drooping Sorrow reigns)—
This awful power, on whom high heaven conferr'd
Of life's great charge the first important third!—
Timid, and conscious of her charge, she flies
To pant and flutter far from human eyes;
While the soft lungs, in flexile membrane bound,
Like fond maternal wings embrace her round:
And, while the current thro' each channel swells,
164
And, ere again the imprison'd gales retire,
Draw from their souls the pure electric fire —
The electric fire the passing streams impart
(Life's first great mover) to the swelling heart.
Should rude disaster these or that confound,
Life and Life's hope fly rapid from the wound:
Here 'scape the currrents whence we life receive,
The zephyrs there by which those currents live.
But these to guard from ills that might assail,
Spread the strong ribs, their moving coat of mail,
And stretch'd around, with strong, but flexile sweep,
At distance due each casual danger keep.
Spread the strong ribs, their moving coat of mail,
And stretch'd around, with strong, but flexile sweep,
At distance due each casual danger keep.
Nor less the brain—fair Reason's awful stand!
Whose subtile dictates all the frame command;
Doom'd each important function to sustain;
Mysterious “Lord of Pleasure and of Pain,”
Of Reason, Knowledge, Sense's varied sway,
And Fancy's train—fantastic, grave, or gay.
Where vibrates sound, where splendid Vision lives,
Where Taste—where Smell her essence all receives,
And Touch, fine-thrilling, each impression gives!
From this, when injur'd, all tumultuous fly
The wond'rous train of sudden Sympathy:
The Lungs, the Heart, their functions each disclaim:
Dies thro' each Nerve the paralytic frame!
Whose subtile dictates all the frame command;
165
Mysterious “Lord of Pleasure and of Pain,”
Of Reason, Knowledge, Sense's varied sway,
And Fancy's train—fantastic, grave, or gay.
Where vibrates sound, where splendid Vision lives,
Where Taste—where Smell her essence all receives,
And Touch, fine-thrilling, each impression gives!
From this, when injur'd, all tumultuous fly
The wond'rous train of sudden Sympathy:
The Lungs, the Heart, their functions each disclaim:
Dies thro' each Nerve the paralytic frame!
But this to guard, with numerous joints
supplied,
Lo! in firm compact, swells the crested pride,
Whose lines prescrib'd the spreading evil bound,
When Force or Chance inflicts the dangerous wound.
Lo! in firm compact, swells the crested pride,
Whose lines prescrib'd the spreading evil bound,
When Force or Chance inflicts the dangerous wound.
Thus stands erect proud Man's superior race,
Secur'd by cautious Nature's partial grace:
Each vital part, to guard life's sacred fire,
Arm'd at all points, defies Misfortune's ire.
But, ah! in vain: for Art, with cruel zeal,
Delves the rent earth, and whets the vengeful steel:
Or, with invention's magic powers accurst,
Bids from wrought tubes th'ignited malice burst;
Whence, low on Earth the glorious structure lays,
Fall'n in its strength, and ere its hour decays.
Secur'd by cautious Nature's partial grace:
166
Arm'd at all points, defies Misfortune's ire.
But, ah! in vain: for Art, with cruel zeal,
Delves the rent earth, and whets the vengeful steel:
Or, with invention's magic powers accurst,
Bids from wrought tubes th'ignited malice burst;
Whence, low on Earth the glorious structure lays,
Fall'n in its strength, and ere its hour decays.
The circulation of the blood being essential long before the functions of the lungs or brain are requisite.
In the human subject, and all the most perfect of the quadruped species, the whole mass of blood passes in every circulation through the lungs,
That the air in passing through the lungs, loses some part of its elementary composition is evident, because, after it has been respired a given number of times, it is no longer fit for its purpose of sustaining life; becoming, in fact, less and less fit for that office at every repeated inspiration. It is equally evident from the changes taking place in the colour and properties of the blood, in its passage through the pulmonary arteries, that something is imbibed from the air. Whether this be certain portions of the electric fluid, contained always in large quantities in the atmosphere, may, perhaps, be worth enquiry. The author hazards it only as a conjecture sufficiently probable for the foundation of a poetical allusion.
The sympathy between the Brain, Heart, and Lungs has long engaged the attention of Physiologists, it being evident, that no injury whatever can be done to the one without the others being immediately affected.
The exposed situation of the head, and the importance and sensibility of the organ it contains, necessarily called for every possible precaution; and, accordingly, Nature has not only provided it with bones of such strength as forcibly to resist the violence that may be offered it, but has also made a provision, by the many small portions into which these bones are divided, to prevent such wounds as may be inflicted from easily extending to any considerable length.
182
[Nor here forgets (as cheerful we aspire]
Nor here forgets (as cheerful we aspire,
And see below the distant town retire)
The friendly Hermes o'er the winding way
His wings and sage caduces to display.
My gay companion, skill'd in Gothic lore,
Opes at each step his topographic store:
What scatter'd hamlets catch the distant eye,
Or hid in neighbouring thickets viewless lie,
Or, half embower'd, o'er waving woods display
The spire bright glittering in the morning ray,
Their piles of mouldering state—each founder's name,
Their scenes of ancient sport, or martial fame,
Pleas'd he recounts, while mile succeeding mile
Flits light behind, and golden prospects smile.
Chief of the scenes that thus to notice throng,
Lo! ancient Eltham claim the varied song:—
Eltham whose towers, in age's stern decay,
And smiling woods, in vernal foliage gay,
Late (fond of scenes renown'd in times of yore)
My feet eccentric wander'd to explore;
Midst ivy'd ruins, wrapt in thought, to rove,
And woo the moralizing Muse I love:
For many a change these fallen towers have view'd
O'er which the mournful fancy loves to brood!
And well their mouldering honours may display
The vain parade of Grandeur's fickle sway.
For here, o'er Gothic Splendour's fallen seat,
Where plodding cits erect the snug retreat—
Where the tame drudge of six successive days,
His Sunday's coat and rural taste displays;—
Demure to church, with wig of snow parades,
The gaze of clowns and antiquated maids;
Who now, no more of flattering beaux the care,
Hide in these shades their spleen and their despair;
With cards and prayer-books soothe their wrinkled brows,
And pour at Scandal's shrine, their frequent vows;—
Yes, here (where grinning Humour hies to seek
Her country gentleman of once a week,)
Once the proud tyrants of the groaning land
Grasp'd the stern sceptre with ensanguin'd hand;
While haughty Barons, factious, rude, and sour,
(At once the props and rivals of their pow'r!)
Throng'd round in gaudy pomp, and daily vied
In scenes of riot, insolence, and pride;
While fierce Oppression, with her iron rod,
Dogg'd at their heels, and waited at their nod.
And see below the distant town retire)
The friendly Hermes o'er the winding way
His wings and sage caduces to display.
My gay companion, skill'd in Gothic lore,
Opes at each step his topographic store:
What scatter'd hamlets catch the distant eye,
Or hid in neighbouring thickets viewless lie,
Or, half embower'd, o'er waving woods display
The spire bright glittering in the morning ray,
Their piles of mouldering state—each founder's name,
Their scenes of ancient sport, or martial fame,
Pleas'd he recounts, while mile succeeding mile
Flits light behind, and golden prospects smile.
Chief of the scenes that thus to notice throng,
Lo! ancient Eltham claim the varied song:—
Eltham whose towers, in age's stern decay,
And smiling woods, in vernal foliage gay,
Late (fond of scenes renown'd in times of yore)
My feet eccentric wander'd to explore;
Midst ivy'd ruins, wrapt in thought, to rove,
And woo the moralizing Muse I love:
For many a change these fallen towers have view'd
O'er which the mournful fancy loves to brood!
And well their mouldering honours may display
The vain parade of Grandeur's fickle sway.
For here, o'er Gothic Splendour's fallen seat,
Where plodding cits erect the snug retreat—
183
His Sunday's coat and rural taste displays;—
Demure to church, with wig of snow parades,
The gaze of clowns and antiquated maids;
Who now, no more of flattering beaux the care,
Hide in these shades their spleen and their despair;
With cards and prayer-books soothe their wrinkled brows,
And pour at Scandal's shrine, their frequent vows;—
Yes, here (where grinning Humour hies to seek
Her country gentleman of once a week,)
Once the proud tyrants of the groaning land
Grasp'd the stern sceptre with ensanguin'd hand;
While haughty Barons, factious, rude, and sour,
(At once the props and rivals of their pow'r!)
Throng'd round in gaudy pomp, and daily vied
In scenes of riot, insolence, and pride;
While fierce Oppression, with her iron rod,
Dogg'd at their heels, and waited at their nod.
Ye fallen turrets, now in fragments spread,
Or doom'd to patch the rustic's humble shed!—
Ye rocky fragments of each ruin'd pile
That guarded once the robber and his spoil!
Ye, ye could tell (might heaven a voice afford)
Full many a crime of many a savage lord,
When thirst of blood, and violence were fame,
And abject myriads trembled at a name,
Or groan'd despis'd in flavery's galling chain,
A master's boundless riot to maintain,
And bled to soothe (nor dar'd to deem unjust)
His fierce ambition, or his fiercer lust!
Nor rests the guilt, that this abhorrence calls,
Within the martial chiefs embattled walls;
For holy cheats, the pests of every clime!
Made heaven itself a partner in the crime;
With hopes of easy penance urg'd the soul
To bolder guilt, and bade the stern controul
Of aweful Conscience vanish, and the train
Of fell Remorse, that rack the wildering brain,
And call the phantom'd furies from the deep
Where Fear and Horror endless vigils keep
To haunt diseas'd Remembrance. These behold
The pious jugglers, for corrupting gold,
With drops of magic dew, and mutter'd spell,
Submissive conjure to their native cell;
In cloister'd walls while heavenly visions rise
To cheer with blissful hopes the murderer's eyes!
Or doom'd to patch the rustic's humble shed!—
Ye rocky fragments of each ruin'd pile
That guarded once the robber and his spoil!
Ye, ye could tell (might heaven a voice afford)
Full many a crime of many a savage lord,
When thirst of blood, and violence were fame,
And abject myriads trembled at a name,
Or groan'd despis'd in flavery's galling chain,
A master's boundless riot to maintain,
And bled to soothe (nor dar'd to deem unjust)
His fierce ambition, or his fiercer lust!
Nor rests the guilt, that this abhorrence calls,
Within the martial chiefs embattled walls;
184
Made heaven itself a partner in the crime;
With hopes of easy penance urg'd the soul
To bolder guilt, and bade the stern controul
Of aweful Conscience vanish, and the train
Of fell Remorse, that rack the wildering brain,
And call the phantom'd furies from the deep
Where Fear and Horror endless vigils keep
To haunt diseas'd Remembrance. These behold
The pious jugglers, for corrupting gold,
With drops of magic dew, and mutter'd spell,
Submissive conjure to their native cell;
In cloister'd walls while heavenly visions rise
To cheer with blissful hopes the murderer's eyes!
Within yon fane (to prop whose shapeless pile
What distant ages lend their pious toil—
Whose rude ill-match'd materials scarcely save
Its mouldering Tombs from one oblivious grave—
But still whose reverend arch, of Gothic frame,
To far antiquity asserts the claim.)—
Yes, there, perhaps, within yon tottering fane,
The British purple's most detested stain,
Inhuman John! a trembling suppliant stood,
His hand still palsied with a nephew's blood,
Till hireling priests the sacred unction pour,
And all his bosom's pious peace restore:
While groaning subjects, by his crimes undone,
With added burthens for his guilt atone;
And hard-wrung subsidies the boon supply
That gives him back to Innocence and Joy!
What distant ages lend their pious toil—
Whose rude ill-match'd materials scarcely save
Its mouldering Tombs from one oblivious grave—
But still whose reverend arch, of Gothic frame,
To far antiquity asserts the claim.)—
Yes, there, perhaps, within yon tottering fane,
The British purple's most detested stain,
Inhuman John! a trembling suppliant stood,
His hand still palsied with a nephew's blood,
Till hireling priests the sacred unction pour,
And all his bosom's pious peace restore:
While groaning subjects, by his crimes undone,
With added burthens for his guilt atone;
And hard-wrung subsidies the boon supply
That gives him back to Innocence and Joy!
194
[If the glad heart of Friendship, or the soul]
If the glad heart of Friendship, or the soulOf Merit pining in Misfortune's power
Feel, when from Bounty's hand her blessings show'r,
The kindling transport thro' the bosom roll—
If these, not conscious of the art to hide
The inward feeling, from the speaking eye
Beam the glad smile, or more delighted tear,
Heaven! to what height must swell the generous tide
Of glowing extasy!—how the fine joy
Like thy own glorious radiance must appear
To decorate his brow, who with the will
Combines the power the wanted bliss to deal!
Oh! with what joy his conscious heart must thrill!—
Sole joy which human Virtue ne'er can feel
Without the aid of Fortune!—Yet how few
Of those who bask in her meridian smile
Have sense to seize this sole prerogative
Which Wealth and Power can challenge!—Ah! how few
Prefer to mingling in each sordid joy,
Which every hind indulges in his way,
The generous luxury that lifts the head
Of pining genius from the abject dust,
And shews the real splendour of their state!
204
[For here, while Phœbus sheds the radiant beam]
For here, while Phœbus sheds the radiant beam,
Imperial Thames, with more majestic sweep,
Wafts the fraught vessel o'er a wider stream,
And pours a flood of glory to the deep.
Imperial Thames, with more majestic sweep,
Wafts the fraught vessel o'er a wider stream,
And pours a flood of glory to the deep.
See where, against the horizon's distant bound,
Itself a sea, the wide-spread wave reclines,
While fading hues the mingled scene confound,
Nor wave from sky the sharpen'd ken defines;
Itself a sea, the wide-spread wave reclines,
While fading hues the mingled scene confound,
Nor wave from sky the sharpen'd ken defines;
Save that, slow-rising o'er the liquid plain,
Yon vessels swell imperfect on the sight;
And, as they speed the distant port to gain,
Like flying clouds obstruct the misty light.
Yon vessels swell imperfect on the sight;
And, as they speed the distant port to gain,
Like flying clouds obstruct the misty light.
Majestic sight! But what if Danube's tide,
That rolls from realm to realm with long delay,
Here pour'd along, with more resistless pride,
Thro' seven broad mouths to break his foaming way?
That rolls from realm to realm with long delay,
Here pour'd along, with more resistless pride,
Thro' seven broad mouths to break his foaming way?
Or what if Thought, by Fancy plum'd, should fly
To Oronoko's wide expanded shores?
Or Plata's stream, where not the keenest eye
From the mid-wave the distant bank explores?
To Oronoko's wide expanded shores?
Or Plata's stream, where not the keenest eye
From the mid-wave the distant bank explores?
How shrink, proud Thames, at this tremendous scene
The lesser glories of thy boasted sway!
A nameless brook that cheers the village green,
Thy sea-broad wave unnotic'd glides away.
The lesser glories of thy boasted sway!
A nameless brook that cheers the village green,
Thy sea-broad wave unnotic'd glides away.
But hold, my Muse, nor seek the distant clime
While yet new wonders court thy gaze at home;
Nor, fondly panting for the rude sublime,
Neglect the beauteous scenes thro' which we roam.
While yet new wonders court thy gaze at home;
Nor, fondly panting for the rude sublime,
Neglect the beauteous scenes thro' which we roam.
205
Here from this hill that aids the raptur'd sight,
Where woods, and vales, and cultur'd meadows lie,
Enough is seen to wake the fond delight,
And spread enchantment o'er the poet's eye.
Where woods, and vales, and cultur'd meadows lie,
Enough is seen to wake the fond delight,
And spread enchantment o'er the poet's eye.
This winding road, this grassy margin gay,
That here advances, there again recedes,
Tufted with broom or goss's sober grey,
This neighbouring thicket, and yon distant meads.
That here advances, there again recedes,
Tufted with broom or goss's sober grey,
This neighbouring thicket, and yon distant meads.
Yes, let me here from this embowering shade,
Whence all these scenes come rushing on my view,
Tune my soft shell; and here, enthusiast maid!
The playful themes of early youth renew.
Whence all these scenes come rushing on my view,
Tune my soft shell; and here, enthusiast maid!
The playful themes of early youth renew.
Nor shalt thou, Thames! as slow thy gentle tide
Steals in soft silence to the boundless wave,
Refuse the strain of one who soon shall glide
By lapse as silent to the whelming grave.
Steals in soft silence to the boundless wave,
Refuse the strain of one who soon shall glide
By lapse as silent to the whelming grave.
Yes—like thy waves that to the Ocean flow,
Lost in that vortex to be mark'd no more,
Shall haste the stream that wakes this sentient glow,
Nor leave one trace on Life's deserted shore.
Lost in that vortex to be mark'd no more,
Shall haste the stream that wakes this sentient glow,
Nor leave one trace on Life's deserted shore.
What? not one trace! Shall not, alas! this name,
Which e'en in keen Misfortune's darkest hour
My jealous care preserv'd from envious Shame,
Shall this not 'scape Oblivion's ruthless pow'r?
Which e'en in keen Misfortune's darkest hour
My jealous care preserv'd from envious Shame,
Shall this not 'scape Oblivion's ruthless pow'r?
Ah! no. How vain to feed the fond desire
E'en this lov'd relic from the wreck to save!
In cold neglect shall every hope expire,
And Memory's self shall moulder in the grave.
E'en this lov'd relic from the wreck to save!
In cold neglect shall every hope expire,
And Memory's self shall moulder in the grave.
210
[Yes, Nature! yes: to my enthusiast eye]
Yes, Nature! yes: to my enthusiast eye,
When vernal brightness flushes every charm,
Thy vivid rays and breathing tints supply
The fond delights that youthful Fancy warm.
Thy budding sweets, thy universal green,
(Save where the hawthorn blossoms to the view)
Thy carol'd strains, and perfum'd gales serene,
Thy mid-day blush, and tears of mattin dew,
All, all enchant; and in my glowing breast.
Rouse from long slumber Joy's ecstatic train,
While the gay spirits, now no more opprest,
Fly thro' each nerve and glow in every vein:
Nor less gay Summer, bounteous in her charms,
The grateful heart of Admiration warms.
When vernal brightness flushes every charm,
Thy vivid rays and breathing tints supply
The fond delights that youthful Fancy warm.
Thy budding sweets, thy universal green,
(Save where the hawthorn blossoms to the view)
Thy carol'd strains, and perfum'd gales serene,
Thy mid-day blush, and tears of mattin dew,
All, all enchant; and in my glowing breast.
Rouse from long slumber Joy's ecstatic train,
While the gay spirits, now no more opprest,
Fly thro' each nerve and glow in every vein:
Nor less gay Summer, bounteous in her charms,
The grateful heart of Admiration warms.
But, ah! when Autumn, sober-suited pow'r!
O'er the luxuriant herbage flings her veil,
With browner tints to tinge each artless bow'r,
When first the foliage flies before the gale;—
Then when each object drinks the deeper die,
And fresh varieties of sombre hue
Sort with the solemn glories of the sky,
With new delight thy alter'd charms I view;—
Charms that each vain fantastic joy restrain,
And lull each tumult of the way ward soul,
While Contemplation's heav'n-instructed vein
Awakes of Reason's pow'r the soft controul:
Ah! then, how sweet, how lasting, and serene
Thy Poet's joy to trace the rural scene!
O'er the luxuriant herbage flings her veil,
With browner tints to tinge each artless bow'r,
When first the foliage flies before the gale;—
Then when each object drinks the deeper die,
And fresh varieties of sombre hue
Sort with the solemn glories of the sky,
With new delight thy alter'd charms I view;—
Charms that each vain fantastic joy restrain,
And lull each tumult of the way ward soul,
While Contemplation's heav'n-instructed vein
Awakes of Reason's pow'r the soft controul:
211
Thy Poet's joy to trace the rural scene!
Nor shalt thou, Nature, when each softer charm,
Each fertile grace, and every radiant glow,
And all the smiles that deck thy hallow'd form
Are shook by sullen tempests from thy brow;
Nor shalt thou, then, while o'er the leafless glade
Scarce peers the distant sun, and o'er the ground,
Check'ring the glaring snows, the long, long shade
Spreads cheerless, while the north-wind yells around;
Not, then, O Nature! shall thy frown forlorn
To unremitting gloom and sullen care
Resign thy votary. Oft the tardy morn
My song shall wake: and oft at noon to share
Thy transient smile that gilds the mountain brow,
And o'er the trackless vales that glare below
Sheds its faint radiance, blithe will I repair
And snatch the short-liv'd boon; and where the oak
His naked branches o'er the frozen brook
Snow-crown'd extends, and in the feeble ray
Glitters the pendant icicle; ah! there,
Gazing with curious rapture, let me stray,
Where, branching oft, full many an antic spray
Convolving writhes, as burnish'd fold o'er fold
Writhes the envenom'd snake, and lifts in air
His curving neck across the trav'ller's way.
Such, beauteous still, and awful to behold,
The forest monarch stands; as o'er the storm
(Of innate worth secure) the naked form
Of Patriot Virtue in the trying hour
Majestic towers, while Faction's raging power
Howls thro' the trembling desolated clime!—
Unmov'd she stands—deserted, yet sublime,
The people's secret love—the hope of future time!
Each fertile grace, and every radiant glow,
And all the smiles that deck thy hallow'd form
Are shook by sullen tempests from thy brow;
Nor shalt thou, then, while o'er the leafless glade
Scarce peers the distant sun, and o'er the ground,
Check'ring the glaring snows, the long, long shade
Spreads cheerless, while the north-wind yells around;
Not, then, O Nature! shall thy frown forlorn
To unremitting gloom and sullen care
Resign thy votary. Oft the tardy morn
My song shall wake: and oft at noon to share
Thy transient smile that gilds the mountain brow,
And o'er the trackless vales that glare below
Sheds its faint radiance, blithe will I repair
And snatch the short-liv'd boon; and where the oak
His naked branches o'er the frozen brook
Snow-crown'd extends, and in the feeble ray
Glitters the pendant icicle; ah! there,
Gazing with curious rapture, let me stray,
Where, branching oft, full many an antic spray
Convolving writhes, as burnish'd fold o'er fold
Writhes the envenom'd snake, and lifts in air
His curving neck across the trav'ller's way.
Such, beauteous still, and awful to behold,
The forest monarch stands; as o'er the storm
(Of innate worth secure) the naked form
Of Patriot Virtue in the trying hour
Majestic towers, while Faction's raging power
212
Unmov'd she stands—deserted, yet sublime,
The people's secret love—the hope of future time!
[END OF THE FIRST VOLUME]
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