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]. |
| II. |
 | III. |
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THE EPITHALAMIUM.
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 | The peripatetic |  |
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THE EPITHALAMIUM.
Sportive Lyre, whose artless strings,Brush'd by young Affection's wings,
(Nymphs and rustics list'ning round)
Whisper'd sweet the varied sound—
Sounds which only aim'd to borrow
Pathos from the youthful heart,—
Thrills of Hope, and Sighs of Sorrow—
Fleeting joy, and transient smart!—
Sportive Lyre! ah, once again—
Once again, and then no more—
Let me wake the youthful strain,
And thy playful strings explore.
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Bolder heights my soul shall try:
Bolder objects rise in view—
Truth and godlike Liberty!:
To these my eye enamour'd turns:
For these my ardent bosom burns:
Let these alone my thoughts employ—
Truth and godlike Liberty!
Rous'd by these, my glowing soul
Pants a nobler wreath to gain;—
Pants for Glory's patriot goal,
Where the daring Virtues reign!
Pants to hear the graver Muse
Wake the loud enthusiast shell
Whose notes heroic pride infuse
And bid the soul with ardour swell:—
Noble Ardour!—virtuous Zeal!
Parent of each generous deed;
Guardian of the public weal,
For which the valiant joy to bleed.
Thoughts like these, from hence, alone,
Shall this glowing bosom own:—
Thoughts that lift the soul on high
To make its own Eternity,
And with Meonian rapture swell
The notes of Fame's immortal shell.
Meanwhile, Iö Hymen! thy triumphs I join,—
My Fancy awhile to thy ardours resign:
Those ardours which oft, when anxiety reigns,
When the nerves wildly throb, or when languid the veins,
By Stella awakened, pour balm thro' my soul,
Lull to sleep every pang, and each sorrow control,
And, chacing each passion that peace would destroy,
Restore me to harmony, softness, and joy;—
Those ardours by Nature indulgently given
To realize all that is look'd for in heaven,—
To unite us in bonds of affection and peace,
And bid the rude struggles of selfishness cease,
Till, heart link'd to heart, all the universe smile,
And Social Affection each sorrow beguile,
While Sympathy's touch shall the union sustain,
And vibrate alike thro' each link of the chain.
My Fancy awhile to thy ardours resign:
Those ardours which oft, when anxiety reigns,
When the nerves wildly throb, or when languid the veins,
By Stella awakened, pour balm thro' my soul,
Lull to sleep every pang, and each sorrow control,
And, chacing each passion that peace would destroy,
Restore me to harmony, softness, and joy;—
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To realize all that is look'd for in heaven,—
To unite us in bonds of affection and peace,
And bid the rude struggles of selfishness cease,
Till, heart link'd to heart, all the universe smile,
And Social Affection each sorrow beguile,
While Sympathy's touch shall the union sustain,
And vibrate alike thro' each link of the chain.
Yes such, if by Nature conducted, and join'd
Not by Interest and Pride, but the tie of the mind,
Sex blended with sex from affection alone,
And Simplicity made every bosom its throne—
Such, such are the blessings from Hymen would flow,
And this wilderness turn to an Eden below:—
An Eden of Mind where each virtue should blow.
Not by Interest and Pride, but the tie of the mind,
Sex blended with sex from affection alone,
And Simplicity made every bosom its throne—
Such, such are the blessings from Hymen would flow,
And this wilderness turn to an Eden below:—
An Eden of Mind where each virtue should blow.
Then, Iö! thou Hymen that reign'st o'er the few
Who boldly the dictates of Nature pursue!
Blest power! who alone to the virtuous art known
Whose bosoms the charm of Simplicity own,
While a sordid Impostor, usurping thy name,
Of throngs of proud votaries the homage can claim—
The creatures of Fashion, of Avarice the slaves,
Whom Vanity leads, and each folly depraves.
Who boldly the dictates of Nature pursue!
Blest power! who alone to the virtuous art known
Whose bosoms the charm of Simplicity own,
While a sordid Impostor, usurping thy name,
Of throngs of proud votaries the homage can claim—
The creatures of Fashion, of Avarice the slaves,
Whom Vanity leads, and each folly depraves.
But see, what kind omens bright dawning appear,
The patriot bosom of Virtue to cheer!—
Simplicity comes, by fair Liberty led,
And Hymen—pure Hymen shall lift up his head.
Each Social Affection once more shall return,
And the altar of Truth with pure incense shall burn,
While Love, like the Phœnix, shall rise from the flame,
His laws shall restore, and his saboth proclaim;
And, wide thro' the Heaven's his broad pinions unfurl'd,
Shall shake his bright plumes, and shed peace o'er the world.
The patriot bosom of Virtue to cheer!—
Simplicity comes, by fair Liberty led,
And Hymen—pure Hymen shall lift up his head.
Each Social Affection once more shall return,
And the altar of Truth with pure incense shall burn,
While Love, like the Phœnix, shall rise from the flame,
His laws shall restore, and his saboth proclaim;
And, wide thro' the Heaven's his broad pinions unfurl'd,
Shall shake his bright plumes, and shed peace o'er the world.
| The peripatetic | |