The miscellaneous works and novels of R. C. Dallas ... In seven volumes. A new edition |
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 | MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. |
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 | The miscellaneous works and novels of R. C. Dallas |  |
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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
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KIRKSTALL ABBEY:
Written on the spot, on the Author's birth-day, June 14th.
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Primâ dicte, mihi, summa dicende Camœna.
To find a God, no need have we to shun
The busy town, or seek the mouldering pile,
Or devious ramble by the stream or wood:
The wood, the stream, the solitary pile,
The busy town, nature and art alike,
All, all the great pervading mind proclaim.
E'en this sad bosom owns the here divine;
Now humbly trembling for the faulty shrine,
Now swell'd to virtue, glorifying God.
The busy town, or seek the mouldering pile,
Or devious ramble by the stream or wood:
The wood, the stream, the solitary pile,
The busy town, nature and art alike,
All, all the great pervading mind proclaim.
E'en this sad bosom owns the here divine;
Now humbly trembling for the faulty shrine,
Now swell'd to virtue, glorifying God.
Yet Fancy too, of pleasure and of pain
Alike the ready minister, delights to strike
With varied touch the chords of human hearts;
Impelling these to raise the mingled song,
And those to breathe the silent hallelujah:
Silent alone to sense's grosser organ,
Not less distinguish'd in the symphony,
That bears the glory to the God on high.
Nor is the mingled chorus shunn'd by me,
Tho' Fancy cheer with rural scenes. I love
To trace the streamlet: on the turf to sit,
And rapt by nature, meditate her source.
The wood that plumes the water, and the ruin
Of a solitary abbey full mantled,
As oft by poets sung, with verdant ivy;
The varied arch, pointed or circular,
A sky serene, the calm of solitude,
Impress my soul with dignity of thought,
And lift it to its sacred fount sublime.
Alike the ready minister, delights to strike
With varied touch the chords of human hearts;
Impelling these to raise the mingled song,
And those to breathe the silent hallelujah:
Silent alone to sense's grosser organ,
Not less distinguish'd in the symphony,
That bears the glory to the God on high.
Nor is the mingled chorus shunn'd by me,
Tho' Fancy cheer with rural scenes. I love
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And rapt by nature, meditate her source.
The wood that plumes the water, and the ruin
Of a solitary abbey full mantled,
As oft by poets sung, with verdant ivy;
The varied arch, pointed or circular,
A sky serene, the calm of solitude,
Impress my soul with dignity of thought,
And lift it to its sacred fount sublime.
Lone by the glassy Aire, whose winding banks
Bring many a pleasing prospect to the eye,
My steps I bend to where De Lacy's hand
Laid the first stone whence Kirkstall's Abbey rose
In gratitude to heaven for health restor'd.
Eternal Source of all that's fair and good!
Fountain of health and love! God of all joy!
Who friendship's balm and love's in mercy gave
To solace and to cheer the days of man,
Oh! health restore to her who comforts mine!
Whose virtues animate, whose love inspires;
And tho' I bid no fane majestic rise
O'er gothic arches, sublunary meed!
Temples more fair I build, more nobly great,
Than from the lifeless quarry man e'er wrought:
With ceaseless zeal I'll labour to complete
And fashion these, to dedicate to Thee.
Thy Abbey, Lacy! in its proudest hour,
Ne'er to celestial spirits gave a joy
Like that which rises from a well-form'd mind:
Nor could thy health of greater import prove
Than my Eugenia's, whether she display
The mother's noble part, or give to me
The heav'nly blessings of a faithful love.
Bring many a pleasing prospect to the eye,
My steps I bend to where De Lacy's hand
Laid the first stone whence Kirkstall's Abbey rose
In gratitude to heaven for health restor'd.
Eternal Source of all that's fair and good!
Fountain of health and love! God of all joy!
Who friendship's balm and love's in mercy gave
To solace and to cheer the days of man,
Oh! health restore to her who comforts mine!
Whose virtues animate, whose love inspires;
And tho' I bid no fane majestic rise
O'er gothic arches, sublunary meed!
Temples more fair I build, more nobly great,
Than from the lifeless quarry man e'er wrought:
With ceaseless zeal I'll labour to complete
And fashion these, to dedicate to Thee.
Thy Abbey, Lacy! in its proudest hour,
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Like that which rises from a well-form'd mind:
Nor could thy health of greater import prove
Than my Eugenia's, whether she display
The mother's noble part, or give to me
The heav'nly blessings of a faithful love.
Now to the pole, thou half dissolved tower!
Thy shade is thrown by Phœbus' mid-day beams:
Here let me cast my frame along, here press
The turf where sad Turgesius wept and groan'd,
Erroneous deeming torment to be zeal.
But let my heart his gloomy impulse shun,
While at the throne of grace its chambers ope,
And memory displays the long account.
Thy shade is thrown by Phœbus' mid-day beams:
Here let me cast my frame along, here press
The turf where sad Turgesius wept and groan'd,
Erroneous deeming torment to be zeal.
But let my heart his gloomy impulse shun,
While at the throne of grace its chambers ope,
And memory displays the long account.
Oh! solemn awful pause!—The soul sincere
Minutely scans the page of life, that page
Where vice or virtue strikes the balanc'd line
To damn a devil, or an angel bless.
Hush then, my Muse! let fancy not arrest
The awful search of earnest memory:
Be lull'd thy ardour for a sacred hour,
And leave me wholly to my life and God.
Minutely scans the page of life, that page
Where vice or virtue strikes the balanc'd line
To damn a devil, or an angel bless.
Hush then, my Muse! let fancy not arrest
The awful search of earnest memory:
Be lull'd thy ardour for a sacred hour,
And leave me wholly to my life and God.
Oh! solemn pause! from which abash'd I rise,
Nor dare to justify to sight divine,
The egregious frailties of a mingled life.
Nor dare to justify to sight divine,
The egregious frailties of a mingled life.
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Now to his northern bounds the sun draws nigh,
And presently completes his polar course;
Then downward to the line of Capricorn
He bends, revisiting the hapless climes
Where the best boons of nature man destroys;
Where earth profusely teems, but slavery reigns,
And the sear'd mind forgets the Christian lore.
And presently completes his polar course;
Then downward to the line of Capricorn
He bends, revisiting the hapless climes
Where the best boons of nature man destroys;
Where earth profusely teems, but slavery reigns,
And the sear'd mind forgets the Christian lore.
Yes! I forsook your scorch'd savannahs; fled
Your tangled forests, and your torrent rains,
Your quicksands, tempests, and tornadoes dire,
Your cloud-capt mountains quaking to their tops,
Your fever'd fountains, and your forked fires,
Your sharks, your snakes, your scorpions; the whole train
Of venom and voracity: but chief
The lash's echo, that proclaims a stream
Of human blood, through quiv'ring vessels drawn.
Yes! I forsook them: never did my eye
Gloat on the glittering dust that blinds the soul,
And sheds false radiance on deformity.
With little skill and less desire to heap,
I daily sicken'd at the ills around me.
Yes! I forsook them: wealth, the mighty spur,
Could never goad me to the general course,
Nor could the syrup of an Indian fruit,
Nor all the dainties of a tropic board,
E'er stifle sighs that in my bosom heav'd
For mental food; philosophy, and God.
Your tangled forests, and your torrent rains,
Your quicksands, tempests, and tornadoes dire,
Your cloud-capt mountains quaking to their tops,
Your fever'd fountains, and your forked fires,
Your sharks, your snakes, your scorpions; the whole train
Of venom and voracity: but chief
The lash's echo, that proclaims a stream
Of human blood, through quiv'ring vessels drawn.
Yes! I forsook them: never did my eye
Gloat on the glittering dust that blinds the soul,
And sheds false radiance on deformity.
With little skill and less desire to heap,
I daily sicken'd at the ills around me.
Yes! I forsook them: wealth, the mighty spur,
Could never goad me to the general course,
Nor could the syrup of an Indian fruit,
Nor all the dainties of a tropic board,
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For mental food; philosophy, and God.
Yes! I forsook them! and my mind swells high
With conscious grandeur at the daring act.
What though I threw aside the greater part
Of that which luxury or need supplied?
I gain'd in spirit what I lost in gold;
I gain'd in heav'n what I lost on earth:
Oh! darlings of my heart! I gain'd for you
Health, and hope of wisdom. Oh usury!
The usury of heaven, the avarice,
The lawful avarice of soaring minds.
Then never shall repentance sting my soul,
That I forsook them, and the rugged path
Pursued, that leads to wisdom's haunts divine.
There, my Eugenia! solace shall we find;
There raise our animated fanes to heaven,
And carol praises for thy health restor'd:
Where'er it be—whether that wisdom doom
Our voices rise amid the bustling throng,
Or from some rural scene, like Kirkstall vale,
Where gladder hearts may pour the song divine,
And smiling faces swell the chorus high.
And even now, perhaps, an angel guides
My wandering steps, to find some smiling cot
On Eden's stream, not distant from the site
Where moral Paley meditates, and points
To blissful mansions, and to paths of peace.
With conscious grandeur at the daring act.
What though I threw aside the greater part
Of that which luxury or need supplied?
I gain'd in spirit what I lost in gold;
I gain'd in heav'n what I lost on earth:
Oh! darlings of my heart! I gain'd for you
Health, and hope of wisdom. Oh usury!
The usury of heaven, the avarice,
The lawful avarice of soaring minds.
Then never shall repentance sting my soul,
That I forsook them, and the rugged path
Pursued, that leads to wisdom's haunts divine.
There, my Eugenia! solace shall we find;
There raise our animated fanes to heaven,
And carol praises for thy health restor'd:
Where'er it be—whether that wisdom doom
Our voices rise amid the bustling throng,
Or from some rural scene, like Kirkstall vale,
Where gladder hearts may pour the song divine,
And smiling faces swell the chorus high.
And even now, perhaps, an angel guides
My wandering steps, to find some smiling cot
On Eden's stream, not distant from the site
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To blissful mansions, and to paths of peace.
Oh! for some years of tranquil life, to tend
The swelling spirits of my growing fruit,
'Till virtue set, 'till piety mature,
And give defiance to the blight or storm!
A hope that reason forms as pleasing Thee,
Vouchsafe to realize, Almighty Parent!
Bless, with thy fostering Providence, the work!
Grant me to execute the noble task,
And train up spirits worthy of creation!
Oh! may their worth my former frailties screen,
And animate my willing soul to give
The rest of life to virtue, and to Thee!
The swelling spirits of my growing fruit,
'Till virtue set, 'till piety mature,
And give defiance to the blight or storm!
A hope that reason forms as pleasing Thee,
Vouchsafe to realize, Almighty Parent!
Bless, with thy fostering Providence, the work!
Grant me to execute the noble task,
And train up spirits worthy of creation!
Oh! may their worth my former frailties screen,
And animate my willing soul to give
The rest of life to virtue, and to Thee!
Oh! my Eugenia! how this fervent prayer,
Springing with conscious truth, my bosom warms,
Heals the old humours of a faulty life,
And gives me earnest of some noble hours!
Springing with conscious truth, my bosom warms,
Heals the old humours of a faulty life,
And gives me earnest of some noble hours!
The day declines that marks my years; it glides
Fast to the ocean of eternity,
Where more than half a life is gone before:
Not gone, as said, for ever; for memory,
With faithful talisman, renews, recalls,
The vice or virtue, pang or joy, that's fled,
And stays it to the mind; repeated life!
In one short hour the active soul can glance
Through years on years of its corporeal being:
And mine hath this day ta'en a retrospect
Of frailty, virtue, joy, and sorrow mix'd.
Of joy and virtue, much to thee I owe,
Belov'd Eugenia! and I thank thee much:
Frailty and sorrow I submit to heaven,
And under wisdom's banners list once more.
Fast to the ocean of eternity,
Where more than half a life is gone before:
Not gone, as said, for ever; for memory,
With faithful talisman, renews, recalls,
The vice or virtue, pang or joy, that's fled,
And stays it to the mind; repeated life!
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Through years on years of its corporeal being:
And mine hath this day ta'en a retrospect
Of frailty, virtue, joy, and sorrow mix'd.
Of joy and virtue, much to thee I owe,
Belov'd Eugenia! and I thank thee much:
Frailty and sorrow I submit to heaven,
And under wisdom's banners list once more.
Kirkstall! farewell! thou solemn mouldering fane!
Grave emblem of mortality! adieu!
Oft shall my memory with joy recall
The hours beneath thy venerable shade
The Muse I courted to a pious strain:
And while the picture of this scene I trace,
Thy wood, thy water, tower, and verdant turf,
And the sweet calm that reigns to end my song;
The hope I'll cherish which now fills my breast,
That humble though the song, it is not lost,
Nor undistinguish'd, joins the heavenly choir;
But that, with angel and archangel hosts,
My grateful voice the general chorus swells,
To laud and magnify the glorious name,
And chaunt all glory to my God on high.
Heaven and earth are of thy glory full!
All glory be to thee, Oh God most high!
Grave emblem of mortality! adieu!
Oft shall my memory with joy recall
The hours beneath thy venerable shade
The Muse I courted to a pious strain:
And while the picture of this scene I trace,
Thy wood, thy water, tower, and verdant turf,
And the sweet calm that reigns to end my song;
The hope I'll cherish which now fills my breast,
That humble though the song, it is not lost,
Nor undistinguish'd, joins the heavenly choir;
But that, with angel and archangel hosts,
My grateful voice the general chorus swells,
To laud and magnify the glorious name,
And chaunt all glory to my God on high.
Heaven and earth are of thy glory full!
All glory be to thee, Oh God most high!
229
APRIL DAY.
[_]
Addressed to a young lady, who, after engaging the affections of a friend of the Author's, made him uneasy by her coquetry, on receiving a splendid offer of marriage.
TO NARCISSA.
While April morn her Folly's throne exalts,
While Dob calls Nell, and laughs because she halts;
While Nell meets Tom, and says his tail is loose,
Then laughs in turn, and calls poor Tom a goose;
Let us, my Muse, through Folly's harvest range,
And glean some moral into wisdom's grange.
And, Goddess! thou that dost inspire my lay,
To fair Narcissa lurking hints convey,
In notes melodious as the breath of love,
And sweetest symphonies approv'd above;
Such as the tuneful nymph herself may hear
With pleas'd attention and delighted ear:
Her gentle bosom with sweet song regale,
And point the moral while I sing the tale.
While Dob calls Nell, and laughs because she halts;
While Nell meets Tom, and says his tail is loose,
Then laughs in turn, and calls poor Tom a goose;
Let us, my Muse, through Folly's harvest range,
And glean some moral into wisdom's grange.
And, Goddess! thou that dost inspire my lay,
To fair Narcissa lurking hints convey,
In notes melodious as the breath of love,
And sweetest symphonies approv'd above;
Such as the tuneful nymph herself may hear
With pleas'd attention and delighted ear:
Her gentle bosom with sweet song regale,
And point the moral while I sing the tale.
Her faith engag'd, her choice by all approv'd,
The fair Belinda had confess'd she lov'd;
No longer lurk'd conceal'd Love's powerful dart,
That from the unerring bow had pierc'd her heart;
Her generous soul the noble flame avow'd,
And chose young Henry from the admiring crowd?
Her Henry's love the grateful choice repaid,
He long had lov'd, he long had woo'd the maid.
What transports seiz'd him when her hand he press'd,
With strong emotion, to his glowing breast!
His beating heart a passage scarce affords
His joys to utter with enraptur'd words:
“And will Belinda then her hand resign?
“Consent to bless me, and be wholly mine?
“Shall I possess these charms, celestial charms!
“And press thee panting to my longing arms?
“Ye Gods! what joys my future life shall prove,
“No cares to vex, 'twill all be smiles and love.”
Thus sigh'd the youth in love his soul away,
Soft echoing sighs the gentle youth repay,
And smiles alternate mutual love convey.
This month, this happy month, whose frequent showers
Bedew the earth, and call forth fragrant flowers,
This month was fix'd to end the pains of love,
Retain its joys, and all its fears remove.
The fair Belinda had confess'd she lov'd;
No longer lurk'd conceal'd Love's powerful dart,
That from the unerring bow had pierc'd her heart;
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And chose young Henry from the admiring crowd?
Her Henry's love the grateful choice repaid,
He long had lov'd, he long had woo'd the maid.
What transports seiz'd him when her hand he press'd,
With strong emotion, to his glowing breast!
His beating heart a passage scarce affords
His joys to utter with enraptur'd words:
“And will Belinda then her hand resign?
“Consent to bless me, and be wholly mine?
“Shall I possess these charms, celestial charms!
“And press thee panting to my longing arms?
“Ye Gods! what joys my future life shall prove,
“No cares to vex, 'twill all be smiles and love.”
Thus sigh'd the youth in love his soul away,
Soft echoing sighs the gentle youth repay,
And smiles alternate mutual love convey.
This month, this happy month, whose frequent showers
Bedew the earth, and call forth fragrant flowers,
This month was fix'd to end the pains of love,
Retain its joys, and all its fears remove.
Of mutual love unbosom'd thus, ah say!
What turn of fortune could the rites delay?
A gaudy fop now sees and owns her charms,
And well enforc'd with wealth and coated arms,
Belinda's parents for Belinda sues:
What parents yet could wealth and rank refuse?
Riches to them all mortal bliss display,
Their charms they paint, and urge her to obey;
Tell of each pageant joy they bring, and show
From wealth alone springs happiness below;
With wealth come honour, dignity, and fame,
While love's ignoble and an empty name.
What turn of fortune could the rites delay?
A gaudy fop now sees and owns her charms,
And well enforc'd with wealth and coated arms,
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What parents yet could wealth and rank refuse?
Riches to them all mortal bliss display,
Their charms they paint, and urge her to obey;
Tell of each pageant joy they bring, and show
From wealth alone springs happiness below;
With wealth come honour, dignity, and fame,
While love's ignoble and an empty name.
Belinda long the mighty charm withstood,
Of riches, title, dignity, and blood;
Long firm remain'd, long to her Henry true,
Yet wish'd these honours were young Henry's too.
Her heart, a heart of all her sex the pride,
Alas! was still to vanity allied;
Her throbbing bosom mighty contests move,
Fame and precedence militate 'gainst love.
Pleasure and sway prefer their potent court,
And lively visions o'er her fancy sport;
In gay imagination's vest array'd,
No more through sober optics looks the maid.
Of riches, title, dignity, and blood;
Long firm remain'd, long to her Henry true,
Yet wish'd these honours were young Henry's too.
Her heart, a heart of all her sex the pride,
Alas! was still to vanity allied;
Her throbbing bosom mighty contests move,
Fame and precedence militate 'gainst love.
Pleasure and sway prefer their potent court,
And lively visions o'er her fancy sport;
In gay imagination's vest array'd,
No more through sober optics looks the maid.
Some spirit now, by Jove's command, descends,
From whose firm hand a mystic beam depends:
That scale see richly shines with flaming gold,
A silver this with roses twin'd behold!
That fix'd by diamonds, this by silk, above,
And that for Plutus form'd, and this for Love.
An equal balance long the scales maintain,
Now light rears Love, now weightier sinks again:
Anxious each scale the impending issue waits,
And dreads the sentence of contending Fates.
From whose firm hand a mystic beam depends:
That scale see richly shines with flaming gold,
A silver this with roses twin'd behold!
That fix'd by diamonds, this by silk, above,
And that for Plutus form'd, and this for Love.
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Now light rears Love, now weightier sinks again:
Anxious each scale the impending issue waits,
And dreads the sentence of contending Fates.
“Rulers of Heaven! for me the cause decide!
“Decide for Love!”—the rosy archer cried—
“Shall wealth my realms hereditary rend?
“With me the empire of the heart contend?
“Forbid it Gods! of high import is this!
“Can Plutus e'er bestow the balmy kiss?
“Give to quaff ecstacies from yielding eyes?
“Or teach the bosom how to sink and rise?
“Instruct each vein to play its raptur'd part,
“And in soft transports urge it to the heart?
“Take heed, Belinda! nor the bliss forego,
“Transporting bliss! that all to Love must owe.
“If now to Plutus I am doom'd to bend,
“With me my joys dependent too must end:
“He, he alone, shall claim o'er marriage sway,
“Chasing true love and happiness away:
“While I, my arrows blunt, my bow behind,
“Resigning age, and now by youth resign'd,
“Shall fly the climes that worship yellow clay,
“And to my mother's Paphos shape my way.”
“Decide for Love!”—the rosy archer cried—
“Shall wealth my realms hereditary rend?
“With me the empire of the heart contend?
“Forbid it Gods! of high import is this!
“Can Plutus e'er bestow the balmy kiss?
“Give to quaff ecstacies from yielding eyes?
“Or teach the bosom how to sink and rise?
“Instruct each vein to play its raptur'd part,
“And in soft transports urge it to the heart?
“Take heed, Belinda! nor the bliss forego,
“Transporting bliss! that all to Love must owe.
“If now to Plutus I am doom'd to bend,
“With me my joys dependent too must end:
“He, he alone, shall claim o'er marriage sway,
“Chasing true love and happiness away:
“While I, my arrows blunt, my bow behind,
“Resigning age, and now by youth resign'd,
“Shall fly the climes that worship yellow clay,
“And to my mother's Paphos shape my way.”
Thus spoke the God of love. From the other scale
His fell opponent now began to rail:
His fell opponent now began to rail:
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“Rulers of Heaven! but just be the decree!
“'Tis all I ask, and Love shall yield to me.
“To merit now the victory ordain,
“And Plutus reigns, and shall for ever reign.
“What boasts the boy that Plutus cannot do?
“His shafts bring love? and will not riches too?
“Our merits weigh, utility compare,
“Then judge aright, and Cupid mounts in air.
“Delusive God! without my nobler aid
“The lover starves, and beggar'd is the maid.
“Without my aid all love, alas! were vain,
“All foresight blindness, and all pleasure pain.
“Within, without, the body, and the soul,
“I bear dominion; Plutus sways the whole.
“But now Belinda, rebel girl! delays,
“In spite of feathers and of ambling bays.”
“'Tis all I ask, and Love shall yield to me.
“To merit now the victory ordain,
“And Plutus reigns, and shall for ever reign.
“What boasts the boy that Plutus cannot do?
“His shafts bring love? and will not riches too?
“Our merits weigh, utility compare,
“Then judge aright, and Cupid mounts in air.
“Delusive God! without my nobler aid
“The lover starves, and beggar'd is the maid.
“Without my aid all love, alas! were vain,
“All foresight blindness, and all pleasure pain.
“Within, without, the body, and the soul,
“I bear dominion; Plutus sways the whole.
“But now Belinda, rebel girl! delays,
“In spite of feathers and of ambling bays.”
“Shall ambling bays,” she cries, “attend my call?
“Shall I shine foremost at the play and ball?
“And shall my waving head with feathers teem?
“Feathers! up Cupid! up! and kick the beam!
“Haste, fly to Henry, tell thou could'st not weigh:
“And if he call me false—'twas April Day.”
“Shall I shine foremost at the play and ball?
“And shall my waving head with feathers teem?
“Feathers! up Cupid! up! and kick the beam!
“Haste, fly to Henry, tell thou could'st not weigh:
“And if he call me false—'twas April Day.”
Plung'd in the depth of dissipation's sea,
Awhile from rocks her reason steers her free.
There comes a storm; convuls'd the ocean heaves;
Lo! the lost rudder tops the mountain waves:
Vain is the pilot's aid, all reason vain!
As chance directs Belinda floats the main.
But mark what comes—the mind ungovern'd rolls
Through Passion's sandbanks, and o'er Fancy's shoals:
Reason turns cunning, Love becomes intrigue,
And all the passions against Virtue league:
Loathsome is home, where strife disgust begets;
Abroad spring wanton love and honour debts:
Divorce succeeds;—the separate bed and board!—
All scorn Belinda, once so much ador'd.
Awhile from rocks her reason steers her free.
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Lo! the lost rudder tops the mountain waves:
Vain is the pilot's aid, all reason vain!
As chance directs Belinda floats the main.
But mark what comes—the mind ungovern'd rolls
Through Passion's sandbanks, and o'er Fancy's shoals:
Reason turns cunning, Love becomes intrigue,
And all the passions against Virtue league:
Loathsome is home, where strife disgust begets;
Abroad spring wanton love and honour debts:
Divorce succeeds;—the separate bed and board!—
All scorn Belinda, once so much ador'd.
And now, Narcissa! would the plaintive muse
For false Belinda all the sex accuse;
Did not thy soul with strong conviction plead,
And show that by the pink oft springs the weed:
That while rank herbs throughout the soil abound,
And challenge sight by rearing high around,
The humble violet seeks concealment's calm,
And spreads unseen her fragrance and her balm.
For false Belinda all the sex accuse;
Did not thy soul with strong conviction plead,
And show that by the pink oft springs the weed:
That while rank herbs throughout the soil abound,
And challenge sight by rearing high around,
The humble violet seeks concealment's calm,
And spreads unseen her fragrance and her balm.
235
LAURA:
AN ELEGY.
[_]
This Elegy was written on an occasion similar to that of the preceding poem, but treats the subject more seriously; points out the vice of forced marriages; and shows the deplorable consequences of giving the hand without the heart.
Why weeps my friend? why anxious swells his breast?
What hated cause can prompt my Damon's sigh?
His equal soul no trivial pains molest,
No common sorrows bathe his cheerful eye.
What hated cause can prompt my Damon's sigh?
His equal soul no trivial pains molest,
No common sorrows bathe his cheerful eye.
Though angry fortune frown, her rage deride:
Can Damon doubt his Colin's constant love?
The healthful flocks that range these valleys wide,
Far from our view pale poverty remove.
Can Damon doubt his Colin's constant love?
The healthful flocks that range these valleys wide,
Far from our view pale poverty remove.
What though misfortune dealt the unkindly blow!
Dost think that Colin feels a pang to share?
Such base like thoughts let only misers know,
Who lend for interest, or who cringe through fear.
Dost think that Colin feels a pang to share?
Such base like thoughts let only misers know,
Who lend for interest, or who cringe through fear.
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With nobler virtues rural bosoms glow:
Acceptance more than pays the trivial debt;
I for my friend my flocks would glad forego,
Nay vales and all, nor e'er the loss regret.
Acceptance more than pays the trivial debt;
I for my friend my flocks would glad forego,
Nay vales and all, nor e'er the loss regret.
Colin, said he, thy virtues fire my breast,
And well might make a wretch forget his woe:
But ah! what griefs my tortur'd soul infest,
And spring the tears that from thy Damon flow!
And well might make a wretch forget his woe:
But ah! what griefs my tortur'd soul infest,
And spring the tears that from thy Damon flow!
The love of lucre ne'er my soul shall stain,
Its flight ne'er grieve, nor wanton heaps elate:
What tinsel loss could e'er inflict the pain
That sads my heart for Laura's hapless fate?
Its flight ne'er grieve, nor wanton heaps elate:
What tinsel loss could e'er inflict the pain
That sads my heart for Laura's hapless fate?
Come, Colin! listen to the mournful tale;
Then wilt thou not my heavy griefs reprove,
But sigh and weep with me, and join to wail
The woes that spring from disappointed love.
Then wilt thou not my heavy griefs reprove,
But sigh and weep with me, and join to wail
The woes that spring from disappointed love.
Suffice it, Colin, that we saw and lov'd,
And strove to merit each the other's praise;
Of me my Laura's tender heart approv'd,
And I to her for ever tun'd my lays.
And strove to merit each the other's praise;
Of me my Laura's tender heart approv'd,
And I to her for ever tun'd my lays.
Sweetly enraptur'd flew the time along,
Each rising sun still found us in the grove:
No evening 'scap'd without some verse or song,
No song or verse but was replete with love.
Each rising sun still found us in the grove:
237
No song or verse but was replete with love.
How cheerful then were all my Laura's looks!
How did her cheek with healthful beauty glow,
When we pursued the channels of the brooks,
And she taught Naiads her sweet voice to know!
How did her cheek with healthful beauty glow,
When we pursued the channels of the brooks,
And she taught Naiads her sweet voice to know!
Alas! how chang'd when last I saw my fair
Her look serene, her healthful beauty fled!
The bended brow, sad sign of deep despair,
And pallid tinge had seiz'd her in their stead.
Her look serene, her healthful beauty fled!
The bended brow, sad sign of deep despair,
And pallid tinge had seiz'd her in their stead.
A wealthy Lord;—my bursting heart forgive,
Forgive the tears recalling sorrow draws;
'Twere more than mortal, Colin, not to grieve,
The soul obdurate melts at such a cause.
Forgive the tears recalling sorrow draws;
'Twere more than mortal, Colin, not to grieve,
The soul obdurate melts at such a cause.
Linus, the wealthy Lord of yon bright plains,
To --- led by some ill-fated chance,
Beheld the angel mid a crowd of swains,
And view'd her tripping at the village dance.
To --- led by some ill-fated chance,
Beheld the angel mid a crowd of swains,
And view'd her tripping at the village dance.
Alas! too soon he felt Love's fatal pow'r,
And big in pride he doubted not success:
“The flocks, the herds, that yonder mountains scour,
“Can these allure? all these she shall possess.”
And big in pride he doubted not success:
“The flocks, the herds, that yonder mountains scour,
“Can these allure? all these she shall possess.”
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How did he wrong thy pure, thy spotless breast!
How little, Laura! did he know thy worth!
That could prefer the youth whom virtue blest,
And humble merit to exalted birth.
How little, Laura! did he know thy worth!
That could prefer the youth whom virtue blest,
And humble merit to exalted birth.
Ah me! the woes that sordid passions deal!
Ah me! that awe the tender heart should guide!
Parents enforce, and hark the nuptial peal!
Victim of power, and sacrifice of pride!
Ah me! that awe the tender heart should guide!
Parents enforce, and hark the nuptial peal!
Victim of power, and sacrifice of pride!
I saw her, Colin, scarce a moon is past;
But still her form I see, her voice I hear:
Sad image! on my eye for ever last!
Sad sounds! for ever tingle on my ear!
But still her form I see, her voice I hear:
Sad image! on my eye for ever last!
Sad sounds! for ever tingle on my ear!
With lengthen'd step she slowly trod the green,
Clasp'd were her arms, her snowy neck reclin'd:
Still she preserv'd her grace, her lovely mien;
Grief chas'd her colour, but her form refin'd.
Clasp'd were her arms, her snowy neck reclin'd:
Still she preserv'd her grace, her lovely mien;
Grief chas'd her colour, but her form refin'd.
No more to flow in tasteful ringlets train'd,
Her beauteous hair dishevelled and unbound
In Nature still the power to charm retain'd;
With native beauty ev'ry lock was crown'd.
Her beauteous hair dishevelled and unbound
In Nature still the power to charm retain'd;
With native beauty ev'ry lock was crown'd.
Long she pursued her pensive walk, and I,
Silent as night, mov'd near the widow'd wife;
At length down dropp'd her hand, forth burst a sigh,
“All-gracious power,” she cried, “ah! what is life!”
Silent as night, mov'd near the widow'd wife;
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“All-gracious power,” she cried, “ah! what is life!”
Her dropping hand with eager haste I caught,
Sighs too and tears were mingled fast with hers:
Pity and love at once my bosom fraught,
My full-fraught bosom recollection tears.
Sighs too and tears were mingled fast with hers:
Pity and love at once my bosom fraught,
My full-fraught bosom recollection tears.
She turn'd, she saw, she knew her former love:
“Ah! Damon, is it you?” she sighing said;
“And come you then lost Laura to reprove,
“And for her violated vows upbraid?
“Ah! Damon, is it you?” she sighing said;
“And come you then lost Laura to reprove,
“And for her violated vows upbraid?
“Dear youth! awhile thy tender plaints restrain,
“Nor by reproach increase a wretch's woe:
“Not Laura's heart was rul'd by paltry gain,
“Obedience, duty, struck the deadly blow.
“Nor by reproach increase a wretch's woe:
“Not Laura's heart was rul'd by paltry gain,
“Obedience, duty, struck the deadly blow.
“Of filial reverence far too high I deem'd:
“Can duty urge us to a state of woe?
“Plung'd into ills by those I most esteem'd!
“See how affection has become a foe.
“Can duty urge us to a state of woe?
“Plung'd into ills by those I most esteem'd!
“See how affection has become a foe.
“But if a parent's will in vain I plead,
“And force not clears me from my seeming guilt,
“Let Laura's woes with Damon's breast succeed,
“Her griefs shall win him and her sorrows melt.
“And force not clears me from my seeming guilt,
“Let Laura's woes with Damon's breast succeed,
“Her griefs shall win him and her sorrows melt.
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“In vain I seek my haughty lord to please,
“In vain dissimulation's art essay,
“Ill with my words my labouring breast agrees;
“And sighs and tears my inmost soul display.
“In vain dissimulation's art essay,
“Ill with my words my labouring breast agrees;
“And sighs and tears my inmost soul display.
“Disgust has seiz'd him, vanish'd is his love,
“His heart grown cool, too soon succeeded hate:
“He now blasphemes, profanely calls on Jove,
“Then curses Laura and deplores his fate.
“His heart grown cool, too soon succeeded hate:
“He now blasphemes, profanely calls on Jove,
“Then curses Laura and deplores his fate.
“Within dwell hate, and discontent, and fear,
“Distrust, suspicion, pangs by avarice led;
“Without, the jealous eye, the frown severe,
“The board divided, and the lonely bed.
“Distrust, suspicion, pangs by avarice led;
“Without, the jealous eye, the frown severe,
“The board divided, and the lonely bed.
“My deep sunk eye, a stranger to repose,
“Moistens the down that cannot lure to rest;
“And if, perchance, my languid eye-lids close,
“Dreams but augment the horrors of my breast.
“Moistens the down that cannot lure to rest;
“And if, perchance, my languid eye-lids close,
“Dreams but augment the horrors of my breast.
“Damon! thy sympathy I'll try no more,
“I see, I see thou mourn'st my hapless doom:
“Thou, my fond love! shall soon my end deplore,
“And weep for Laura on her early tomb.”
“I see, I see thou mourn'st my hapless doom:
“Thou, my fond love! shall soon my end deplore,
“And weep for Laura on her early tomb.”
She said, nor need I paint my heart to you,
Well as my Colin knows its every nerve;
Still providence eludes man's narrow view;
For how could virtue such a fate deserve?
Well as my Colin knows its every nerve;
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For how could virtue such a fate deserve?
But hark, my friend, to that sad solemn knell,
That mournful knell that echoes through the dome!
Well might her failing heart the event foretel—
It tolls my Laura to her lasting home.
That mournful knell that echoes through the dome!
Well might her failing heart the event foretel—
It tolls my Laura to her lasting home.
243
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND.
[_]
The design of this Epistle is to show, that true happiness consists in self-knowledge, and that we deceive ourselves when we seek for it elsewhere than in our own minds.
H---, for friendship born, and skill'd to please,
Who keep or silence or discourse with ease,
Teach me, I pray, if I should silence hold,
Or bent on rhyming, in discourse be bold:
Shall I, who meditate some jingling line,
Shall I in satire urge my Muse to shine?
And from that fertile soil of pleasant thorn,
Keep vice in dread with my capricious scorn?
Time was, and you remember well the time,
I tried, though not for fame, satiric rhime;
E're my young Muse, though fond and promptly fir'd,
Had yet to wisdom's sacred name aspir'd:
Though still my youthful hairs unchang'd remain,
And show no signs of age's coming reign;
Though in my life I scarce have dropp'd the boy,
Enamour'd more I grow of sapient joy;
Three years 'bove twenty, I prefer my ease
To all the glory of difficulties.
If they who blame have envy in their spite
I hate their meanness, while I hold them light.
If Hecate's fang, or Anser's nibbling galls,
I think a moment and resentment falls:
As the firm lion to the mouse, I try
To treat with scorn and pass such meanness by:
I strive to conquer all my native bile,
And view detractors with a patient smile.
Who keep or silence or discourse with ease,
Teach me, I pray, if I should silence hold,
Or bent on rhyming, in discourse be bold:
Shall I, who meditate some jingling line,
Shall I in satire urge my Muse to shine?
And from that fertile soil of pleasant thorn,
Keep vice in dread with my capricious scorn?
Time was, and you remember well the time,
I tried, though not for fame, satiric rhime;
E're my young Muse, though fond and promptly fir'd,
Had yet to wisdom's sacred name aspir'd:
Though still my youthful hairs unchang'd remain,
And show no signs of age's coming reign;
Though in my life I scarce have dropp'd the boy,
Enamour'd more I grow of sapient joy;
Three years 'bove twenty, I prefer my ease
To all the glory of difficulties.
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I hate their meanness, while I hold them light.
If Hecate's fang, or Anser's nibbling galls,
I think a moment and resentment falls:
As the firm lion to the mouse, I try
To treat with scorn and pass such meanness by:
I strive to conquer all my native bile,
And view detractors with a patient smile.
Her arms philosophy round reason throws,
My faults henceforth I deem my only foes.
'Tis error I would shun, to virtue fly;
Myself I wish to know, and there apply:
Chiefly to that be now my hours resign'd,
The important study of an anxious mind.
With instruments prepar'd, let others solve
If Sol be fix'd, or on his poles revolve;
If Saturn in his course so far remove
As to our sight a parallax may prove.
Let others vainly toil to find a cause
Why nature's plenum yields to motion's laws;
Or for a void new substances supply,
That dry and moist throughout the system fly:
For me, on this life's sea which we explore,
I strive to furnish out a skiff and oar;
To regulate desire, the tempest check,
And, if I can, save reason from a wreck.
My faults henceforth I deem my only foes.
'Tis error I would shun, to virtue fly;
Myself I wish to know, and there apply:
Chiefly to that be now my hours resign'd,
The important study of an anxious mind.
With instruments prepar'd, let others solve
If Sol be fix'd, or on his poles revolve;
If Saturn in his course so far remove
As to our sight a parallax may prove.
Let others vainly toil to find a cause
Why nature's plenum yields to motion's laws;
Or for a void new substances supply,
That dry and moist throughout the system fly:
For me, on this life's sea which we explore,
I strive to furnish out a skiff and oar;
To regulate desire, the tempest check,
And, if I can, save reason from a wreck.
The universal search is peace of mind:
This happy peace we in ourselves must find.
The fool, whom errors and whom vapours fill,
Ill in the city, in the country ill,
In vain may mount his steed to fly chagrin,
It mounts behind, he gallops with the spleen.
This happy peace we in ourselves must find.
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Ill in the city, in the country ill,
In vain may mount his steed to fly chagrin,
It mounts behind, he gallops with the spleen.
'Mid horrors, tumults, war, and far from home,
What urged the Macedonian chief to roam?
His vapour'd soul knew not to conquer spleen,
Himself he fear'd, and from himself would screen.
This to Aurora's clime the madman bore,
Where Persians scorch'd, their scorching star adore.
What urged the Macedonian chief to roam?
His vapour'd soul knew not to conquer spleen,
Himself he fear'd, and from himself would screen.
This to Aurora's clime the madman bore,
Where Persians scorch'd, their scorching star adore.
Unhappy authors of our self-rais'd woes,
Each moment drives us from our wish'd repose.
Why in the bosoms of new worlds descend,
And ravish gold? to answer what great end?
Content so sought on land and sea; content
Is here, in Orkney, on the Continent:
The icy climate of the pole endures,
Nor flies the tropic, where the cane matures:
We cannot draw it from Potosi's veins,
The man who covets least the most obtains:
But blind to peace, nor knowing what we want,
What least we need, we pray of Heaven to grant.
Each moment drives us from our wish'd repose.
Why in the bosoms of new worlds descend,
And ravish gold? to answer what great end?
Content so sought on land and sea; content
Is here, in Orkney, on the Continent:
The icy climate of the pole endures,
Nor flies the tropic, where the cane matures:
We cannot draw it from Potosi's veins,
The man who covets least the most obtains:
But blind to peace, nor knowing what we want,
What least we need, we pray of Heaven to grant.
“Oh! that a friendly cold, e'er frosts retire,
“Relieving from his ills my wretched sire,
“Peace to his soul! would lifeless lay his head,
“And pleasing sables round his mansion spread;
“That day enrich'd by his departed breath,
“My soul would little grudge the pomp of death:”
Cried, some time since, mild, gentle, and in health,
The needy heir of yon great agent's wealth;
Who, to prepare for him that joyous day,
Toil'd forty years of hapless life away.
“Relieving from his ills my wretched sire,
“Peace to his soul! would lifeless lay his head,
“And pleasing sables round his mansion spread;
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“My soul would little grudge the pomp of death:”
Cried, some time since, mild, gentle, and in health,
The needy heir of yon great agent's wealth;
Who, to prepare for him that joyous day,
Toil'd forty years of hapless life away.
Death heard the pray'r the kinsman to endow:
Now see him rich; and is he happier now?
Vain of its glare, and by his wealth engross'd,
Eager of novel dignity to boast;
Though white with flour, descended of the mill,
The blazon'd vellum pompous titles fill:
A thousand projects, useless, silly, vain,
For ever rise, and skim his wand'ring brain:
Now fool, now haughty, impudent, baboon,
Now scheming, sulking, sadly out of tune:
Still like his sires how much more blest the fool,
If in a frock with meal he charg'd his mule!
Now see him rich; and is he happier now?
Vain of its glare, and by his wealth engross'd,
Eager of novel dignity to boast;
Though white with flour, descended of the mill,
The blazon'd vellum pompous titles fill:
A thousand projects, useless, silly, vain,
For ever rise, and skim his wand'ring brain:
Now fool, now haughty, impudent, baboon,
Now scheming, sulking, sadly out of tune:
Still like his sires how much more blest the fool,
If in a frock with meal he charg'd his mule!
But keep this reasoning from the vulgar ear,
Whose dazzled eyes see bliss in pomp appear;
Wealth, wealth they cry, 'tis barren all beside,
And virtue without wealth is useless pride;
Wealth honest fame in scoundrel souls can lodge,
And wealth alone at court can make a judge.
Whose dazzled eyes see bliss in pomp appear;
Wealth, wealth they cry, 'tis barren all beside,
And virtue without wealth is useless pride;
Wealth honest fame in scoundrel souls can lodge,
And wealth alone at court can make a judge.
Devoid of faith, of honour, and of soul,
“Me, if it will, let infamy enroll,
“Whilst I can merit in my coffers hold,
“And tell a thousand virtues out in gold.”—
In comfort to himself, rich Clotho cried,
Who felt all want of sense by wealth supplied.
With me, who of the glare can well dispense,
And in the rank of goods place mind and sense,
Mild-temper'd Hough hath always higher stood
Than rogues who fatten on their country's blood.
“Me, if it will, let infamy enroll,
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“And tell a thousand virtues out in gold.”—
In comfort to himself, rich Clotho cried,
Who felt all want of sense by wealth supplied.
With me, who of the glare can well dispense,
And in the rank of goods place mind and sense,
Mild-temper'd Hough hath always higher stood
Than rogues who fatten on their country's blood.
Not that I boast the spirit of the sage,
Who finding wealth too much the mind engage,
His teeming purses buried in the sea
To feed his vanity and cry, I'm free!
Of reason's sway the juster line I know:
But I maintain that while confin'd below,
With nought of splendour and with little rent,
Honour and virtue still may live content.
Why then so busy? why our lives destroy
In idle projects and such vain employ?
The doctrine I advance, and think refin'd,
From earliest childhood has enflam'd my mind.
Who finding wealth too much the mind engage,
His teeming purses buried in the sea
To feed his vanity and cry, I'm free!
Of reason's sway the juster line I know:
But I maintain that while confin'd below,
With nought of splendour and with little rent,
Honour and virtue still may live content.
Why then so busy? why our lives destroy
In idle projects and such vain employ?
The doctrine I advance, and think refin'd,
From earliest childhood has enflam'd my mind.
A life of energy and study o'er,
Death call'd my father to a brighter shore;
He left for those behind a world of cares,
Example active, but confus'd affairs.
Soon then aspiring to a noble trade,
I wish'd, to grace my hat, a smart cockade.
I glow'd with heroes to enrol my name:
Till disappointment quench'd the martial flame.
Then to the bar I'm urg'd, the bar I shun
To wander near the streams of Helicon.
My friends alarm'd turn pale, and groaning see
A love of rhyming shooting out in me:
With horror view the Muse at madding sports,
Or slumbering over statutes and reports.
Then in full concert all aloud pronounce
That from that moment I must wealth renounce.
Agreed: and since unable to acquire,
For wealth I'll early learn to curb desire:
And chiefly 'gainst dependent smiles aware,
Unblemish'd truth becomes my highest care.
With such intention and so sad a trade,
Canst tell, my friend, who e'er a fortune made?
Death call'd my father to a brighter shore;
He left for those behind a world of cares,
Example active, but confus'd affairs.
Soon then aspiring to a noble trade,
I wish'd, to grace my hat, a smart cockade.
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Till disappointment quench'd the martial flame.
Then to the bar I'm urg'd, the bar I shun
To wander near the streams of Helicon.
My friends alarm'd turn pale, and groaning see
A love of rhyming shooting out in me:
With horror view the Muse at madding sports,
Or slumbering over statutes and reports.
Then in full concert all aloud pronounce
That from that moment I must wealth renounce.
Agreed: and since unable to acquire,
For wealth I'll early learn to curb desire:
And chiefly 'gainst dependent smiles aware,
Unblemish'd truth becomes my highest care.
With such intention and so sad a trade,
Canst tell, my friend, who e'er a fortune made?
Content with little, and the love of those
Who mark the line 'twixt riches and repose,
Condemn me H---, if e'er drawn aside
By gaudy shackles of new kindled pride,
Or prompt the law of interest vile to own,
I seek my peace but in my mind alone.
Who mark the line 'twixt riches and repose,
Condemn me H---, if e'er drawn aside
By gaudy shackles of new kindled pride,
Or prompt the law of interest vile to own,
I seek my peace but in my mind alone.
255
SATIRE FROM BOILEAU.
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG NOBLEMAN.
[_]
The design of this Satire is to show that true nobility consists in virtue independent of high birth.
High birth, my Lord, is no slight thing with me,
When in the man a virtuous mind I see;
From heroes sprung, and whom his birth inspires
To tread like you the footsteps of his sires.
When in the man a virtuous mind I see;
From heroes sprung, and whom his birth inspires
To tread like you the footsteps of his sires.
But who can suffer that a heartless fop,
Whose soul derives from birth its only prop,
Should gather laurels by another sown,
And boast of honours that are not his own?
I grant the virtues of his ancient line
In distant annals gloriously shine,
And that our Edwards' and our Henrys' fields
Have grav'd high honours on its noble shields:
But what avails to him this mass of glory,
Of heroes famous in their country's story,
If the world sees that all the fool has shar'd
Is only parchment which the worms have spar'd?
While 'mong the gods his fountain veins arise,
His little soul the god-like source belies?
And while, uncharg'd with aught that's good or great,
He sinks in lethargy of pride and state?
And yet to hear him arrogant and vain,
Th' illusive lustre of his house maintain,
Should we not cry that Heav'n before him lay?
That God had form'd him of superior clay?
Big with importance, and in pride complete,
He thinks mankind must fall and kiss his feet.
But now, thou god! distinction thrown aside,
Let's talk a little on this score of pride.
Whose soul derives from birth its only prop,
Should gather laurels by another sown,
And boast of honours that are not his own?
I grant the virtues of his ancient line
In distant annals gloriously shine,
And that our Edwards' and our Henrys' fields
Have grav'd high honours on its noble shields:
But what avails to him this mass of glory,
Of heroes famous in their country's story,
If the world sees that all the fool has shar'd
Is only parchment which the worms have spar'd?
While 'mong the gods his fountain veins arise,
His little soul the god-like source belies?
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He sinks in lethargy of pride and state?
And yet to hear him arrogant and vain,
Th' illusive lustre of his house maintain,
Should we not cry that Heav'n before him lay?
That God had form'd him of superior clay?
Big with importance, and in pride complete,
He thinks mankind must fall and kiss his feet.
But now, thou god! distinction thrown aside,
Let's talk a little on this score of pride.
Tell me, thou hero, genius great and wise!
'Mong Heaven's creatures which are those we prize?
We boast a courser, whose proud heart we trace,
Will show a fiery vigour in the race;
Who never tires, but to the course still just,
Receives a thousand coats of noble dust:
Of Childers and Eclipse a dwindled race,
Losing their virtues, lose distinguish'd place,
Regardless of the source from which they flow,
They bear the pannier, or they draw the plough.
Shall nature be distorted then for thee,
And hacks and coursers hold the same degree?
I am not dazzled with an empty show:
Virtue's the mark of noble hearts I know.
If sprung from heroes, let us see you rise
In zeal for honour, and in dread of vice.
Do you revere the laws of God and man,
Injustice hate, and do all good you can?
Would you for glory change your soft repose
To lodge on open fields, where glory grows?
From deeds like these nobility began,
I feel conviction, and respect the man.
Then seek your birth among illustrious kings,
And of a thousand sires deduce the springs:
Then turn th' historic or romantic page,
At leisure con the heroes of each age,
Decide the veins thro' which your blood has run,
Through Cæsar, Peleus, or through Philip's son:
In vain demurring heralds disagree,
You are their offspring, or you ought to be.
But were your lineage from Alcides true,
While your co-evals see but vice in you,
Know all the train of heroes at your back
Are brilliant contrasts rendering you more black:
And all the lustre of their tarnish'd fame
Reflects a light that more displays your shame.
Haughty in vain of blood which you disgrace,
You build securely on your honour'd race:
In vain their shade ancestral virtues cast;
My mind regards them but as virtues past:
I see in you a sluggard, and a cheat,
Treason, seduction, perfidy, deceit;
A fool with error and with madness big,
And of a glorious root a rotten twig.
'Mong Heaven's creatures which are those we prize?
We boast a courser, whose proud heart we trace,
Will show a fiery vigour in the race;
Who never tires, but to the course still just,
Receives a thousand coats of noble dust:
Of Childers and Eclipse a dwindled race,
Losing their virtues, lose distinguish'd place,
Regardless of the source from which they flow,
They bear the pannier, or they draw the plough.
Shall nature be distorted then for thee,
And hacks and coursers hold the same degree?
I am not dazzled with an empty show:
Virtue's the mark of noble hearts I know.
If sprung from heroes, let us see you rise
In zeal for honour, and in dread of vice.
259
Injustice hate, and do all good you can?
Would you for glory change your soft repose
To lodge on open fields, where glory grows?
From deeds like these nobility began,
I feel conviction, and respect the man.
Then seek your birth among illustrious kings,
And of a thousand sires deduce the springs:
Then turn th' historic or romantic page,
At leisure con the heroes of each age,
Decide the veins thro' which your blood has run,
Through Cæsar, Peleus, or through Philip's son:
In vain demurring heralds disagree,
You are their offspring, or you ought to be.
But were your lineage from Alcides true,
While your co-evals see but vice in you,
Know all the train of heroes at your back
Are brilliant contrasts rendering you more black:
And all the lustre of their tarnish'd fame
Reflects a light that more displays your shame.
Haughty in vain of blood which you disgrace,
You build securely on your honour'd race:
In vain their shade ancestral virtues cast;
My mind regards them but as virtues past:
I see in you a sluggard, and a cheat,
Treason, seduction, perfidy, deceit;
A fool with error and with madness big,
And of a glorious root a rotten twig.
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Perhaps I rave, perhaps my madding muse
Through her keen lines improper rancour strews:
To state some deference at least is due:
I cool, and modestly the theme pursue.
Your race is known. Since when? Great Lord reply.
A thousand years and more. I'll not deny.
Twice sixteen quarters on your arms appear:
'Tis great, I own; but are your proofs quite clear?
Your fathers' lineage heraldry proclaims,
And from the wreck of time has sav'd their names:
But in this circle of revolving time
(To love, my Lord, you know is not a crime),
What man or angel shall we find to prove
Their faithful dames have all resisted love?
That flatt'ring wooers knelt and sigh'd in vain,
And vows and tears no pity could obtain?
Know you, great Sir, but in some wanton mood
A female fill'd the course with other blood?
Know you their blood and rank all pure and true
Have thro' Lucretias flow'd along to you?
Through her keen lines improper rancour strews:
To state some deference at least is due:
I cool, and modestly the theme pursue.
Your race is known. Since when? Great Lord reply.
A thousand years and more. I'll not deny.
Twice sixteen quarters on your arms appear:
'Tis great, I own; but are your proofs quite clear?
Your fathers' lineage heraldry proclaims,
And from the wreck of time has sav'd their names:
But in this circle of revolving time
(To love, my Lord, you know is not a crime),
What man or angel shall we find to prove
Their faithful dames have all resisted love?
That flatt'ring wooers knelt and sigh'd in vain,
And vows and tears no pity could obtain?
Know you, great Sir, but in some wanton mood
A female fill'd the course with other blood?
Know you their blood and rank all pure and true
Have thro' Lucretias flow'd along to you?
Curs'd be the day that gave this folly birth,
To soil our manners and to level worth:
In happy times, or ere the world was old,
Each on his merit all his glory told.
Content then reign'd, and laws had equal springs,
Virtue gave rank, and merit made our kings.
None sought for lustre that was long since gone,
And worth depended on itself alone,
But time saw virtue and desert abas'd,
Saw vice ennobled, and saw honour chas'd,
And pride, supported by a borrow'd name,
Stalk o'er the earth and every breast inflame.
Then rose a crowd of Marquisses and Lords,
Who for their virtue offer'd empty words:
A thousand spirits then of fertile brain
Invented blazonry, with all its train;
In terms obscure a language new compose,
And azure, argent, saltier, fesse arose;
Rampant, pale, passant, guardant, gule, and or,
With quarters, crests, divisions, and what more?
A swelling madness made poor Reason drunk;
And 'mid the waves of folly honour sunk.
Then rank and birth with spirit to maintain
Expense and luxury must join each train:
The stately mansion must exalt the view,
And be distinguish'd by a motley crew:
Men look astonished as along they whirl,
And by their liveries know each Duke and Earl.
To soil our manners and to level worth:
In happy times, or ere the world was old,
Each on his merit all his glory told.
Content then reign'd, and laws had equal springs,
Virtue gave rank, and merit made our kings.
None sought for lustre that was long since gone,
And worth depended on itself alone,
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Saw vice ennobled, and saw honour chas'd,
And pride, supported by a borrow'd name,
Stalk o'er the earth and every breast inflame.
Then rose a crowd of Marquisses and Lords,
Who for their virtue offer'd empty words:
A thousand spirits then of fertile brain
Invented blazonry, with all its train;
In terms obscure a language new compose,
And azure, argent, saltier, fesse arose;
Rampant, pale, passant, guardant, gule, and or,
With quarters, crests, divisions, and what more?
A swelling madness made poor Reason drunk;
And 'mid the waves of folly honour sunk.
Then rank and birth with spirit to maintain
Expense and luxury must join each train:
The stately mansion must exalt the view,
And be distinguish'd by a motley crew:
Men look astonished as along they whirl,
And by their liveries know each Duke and Earl.
But fortune fails, and then the art is taught
To borrow amply, and to render nought:
And braving all the bailiff's timid corps,
Let creditors but knock to leave the door.
But mark the end: the laws at length prevail,
The palace tumbles, and my Lord's in jail:
Or to prevent sore poverty's disgrace,
Receives some soarling to his proud embrace.
He bargains for a name the world admires,
And by a shameful contract sells his sires:
And thus, correcting fortune e'er she falls,
His greatness by his infamy recalls.
For if high birth is unsustain'd by gold,
In vain the splendour of its rank is told:
Then lust of ancestry is madness sure,
And none claims kindred with the haughty poor.
But gold, almighty gold, is worth its weight;
Were then thy parents Oyster Tom and Kate,
Their names forgotten, and their low degree,
All heraldry would teem with sires for thee.
To borrow amply, and to render nought:
And braving all the bailiff's timid corps,
Let creditors but knock to leave the door.
But mark the end: the laws at length prevail,
The palace tumbles, and my Lord's in jail:
Or to prevent sore poverty's disgrace,
Receives some soarling to his proud embrace.
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And by a shameful contract sells his sires:
And thus, correcting fortune e'er she falls,
His greatness by his infamy recalls.
For if high birth is unsustain'd by gold,
In vain the splendour of its rank is told:
Then lust of ancestry is madness sure,
And none claims kindred with the haughty poor.
But gold, almighty gold, is worth its weight;
Were then thy parents Oyster Tom and Kate,
Their names forgotten, and their low degree,
All heraldry would teem with sires for thee.
Go you, whom merit and high birth attend,
Who from the rocks of courts your virtues fend,
Young, noble Lord! who near your Sovereign born,
Behold new glories still his crown adorn;
Whose fame himself and not his throne ensures,
And whom in vain a shameful leisure lures;
Despising all vain pomp of purpled state,
Making e'en fortune on his counsels wait;
Who makes his mind of happiness the spring,
And to the world displays what is a king;
Go, if your glowing breast true glory draws,
By glorious actions merit his applause;
Your noble master serve, mankind convince
The realm has subjects worthy of its prince.
Who from the rocks of courts your virtues fend,
Young, noble Lord! who near your Sovereign born,
Behold new glories still his crown adorn;
Whose fame himself and not his throne ensures,
And whom in vain a shameful leisure lures;
Despising all vain pomp of purpled state,
Making e'en fortune on his counsels wait;
Who makes his mind of happiness the spring,
And to the world displays what is a king;
Go, if your glowing breast true glory draws,
By glorious actions merit his applause;
Your noble master serve, mankind convince
The realm has subjects worthy of its prince.
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WEST TO GRAY.
Friendship and love are here shown to be the charms of life.
Sweet are the notes thy grateful lines convey,
Such Pan might chant round each Arcadian hill:
My heart receive, and give me thine, dear Gray!
And with thy friendship my fond bosom fill.
Such Pan might chant round each Arcadian hill:
My heart receive, and give me thine, dear Gray!
And with thy friendship my fond bosom fill.
Me fields and forests charm and mountain sides,
And newly-shaven lawn, and flowery mead;
Where'er with liquid feet the fountain glides,
Me willing oft the smiling wood-nymphs lead:
And newly-shaven lawn, and flowery mead;
Where'er with liquid feet the fountain glides,
Me willing oft the smiling wood-nymphs lead:
Or in some pensive mood they guide me oft
Where, as subaltern trees the oak surround,
The wonder of the wood proud rears aloft,
Spreads his thick wings, and shades the mossy ground.
Where, as subaltern trees the oak surround,
The wonder of the wood proud rears aloft,
Spreads his thick wings, and shades the mossy ground.
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There while Aurora, glowing love-fed fires,
With amorous speed young Cephalus pursues;
There when the Sun to Thetis' arms retires,
Stretch'd on some favourite spot I court the muse.
With amorous speed young Cephalus pursues;
There when the Sun to Thetis' arms retires,
Stretch'd on some favourite spot I court the muse.
Nor to our wood is Amarylle denied,
Down in the vale or on the ridgy height;
If love be absent me no mountain side,
Nor field, nor forest, lawn, nor mead delight.
Down in the vale or on the ridgy height;
If love be absent me no mountain side,
Nor field, nor forest, lawn, nor mead delight.
O'er hill, o'er dale, Love's victor powers diffuse,
He sways the sky, him ocean realms adore:
The flock, the bull, the lion, he subdues,
And, 'venger of Adonis, tames the boar.
He sways the sky, him ocean realms adore:
The flock, the bull, the lion, he subdues,
And, 'venger of Adonis, tames the boar.
E'en woods; on every bough the birds combine,
Idalian music thrills through every grove;
Hard plants in bonds of woody love entwine,
And beauty animates e'en rocks with love.
Idalian music thrills through every grove;
Hard plants in bonds of woody love entwine,
And beauty animates e'en rocks with love.
Harder than rock, and harder than the oak,
Whoe'er forbids to love with sure repose;
To such my soul should ne'er be freely spoke,
Nor in his hands a sacred pledge depose.
Whoe'er forbids to love with sure repose;
To such my soul should ne'er be freely spoke,
Nor in his hands a sacred pledge depose.
He nor knows friendship nor to love confides,
His day is vacant, unenjoyed his night:
If Beauty's absent me no mountain sides,
Nor field, nor forest, lawn, nor mead delight:
His day is vacant, unenjoyed his night:
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Nor field, nor forest, lawn, nor mead delight:
But place me, Fate, far from my native home,
Forbid me to revisit native skies;
Grant me the maid I love, and for my doom
I ne'er to Heaven should raise my plaintive sighs.
Forbid me to revisit native skies;
Grant me the maid I love, and for my doom
I ne'er to Heaven should raise my plaintive sighs.
Her gentle bosom every care beguiles,
And for the power to please alone I'd sigh:
Careless of fortune, e'en of royal smiles,
Folded in her dear arms well pleas'd to die.
And for the power to please alone I'd sigh:
Careless of fortune, e'en of royal smiles,
Folded in her dear arms well pleas'd to die.
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THE CAVERN OF MELANCHOLY:
AN ODE.
[_]
Written after visiting a remarkable grotto in the parish of St. Ann's in Jamaica. In one of the lofty chambers of it, there were some large stones of extraordinary appearance. One particularly had the figure of a man, nearly as described in the following ode. The features of the face had been delineated (if the author was rightly informed) by Mr. Long, the historian of Jamaica; the rest of the figure was evidently a lusus naturæ.
While in the Grotto's gloomy cells
We press'd the devious way,
Through many a chamber that expels
With fretted roofs the day;
Where darkness darken'd with extent,
Seen by the rays our torches lent,
Or one just straggling from above,
That night's deep visage distant show'd,
Black'ning the arch of her abode,
A vast Cimmerian grove,
We press'd the devious way,
Through many a chamber that expels
With fretted roofs the day;
Where darkness darken'd with extent,
Seen by the rays our torches lent,
Or one just straggling from above,
That night's deep visage distant show'd,
Black'ning the arch of her abode,
A vast Cimmerian grove,
Melpomene, in mournful vein,
Sibylla's theme to inspire,
To melancholy gave the strain,
And symphoniz'd the lyre:
In a grey cell the hermit sat,
Remote from man; the skulking bat
Companion of his murky cave:
His head was canopied with stone,
Or water into chrystal grown,
Fix'd in a solid wave.
Sibylla's theme to inspire,
To melancholy gave the strain,
And symphoniz'd the lyre:
In a grey cell the hermit sat,
Remote from man; the skulking bat
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His head was canopied with stone,
Or water into chrystal grown,
Fix'd in a solid wave.
Of stone himself the hermit seem'd,
In meditation lost:
With sparry gems his garments gleam'd,
In many foldings crost:
A shining beard fell down his breast,
An elbow on his knee found rest,
The arm upheld his reverend cheek:
All vow'd the hermit was but stone,
When in a mellow awful tone,
All heard the hermit speak.
In meditation lost:
With sparry gems his garments gleam'd,
In many foldings crost:
A shining beard fell down his breast,
An elbow on his knee found rest,
The arm upheld his reverend cheek:
All vow'd the hermit was but stone,
When in a mellow awful tone,
All heard the hermit speak.
“Go on, ye busy curious train,
“Your active walks pursue,
“Which Melancholy shall disdain
“To mark with ebon hue.
“Still trip it in the prosperous glare;
“Ye ne'er shall see my footsteps there;
“I shun the bustling crowded court:
“In lonely grove or darksome room
“I dwell, and cast an awful gloom
“On all who near resort.
“Your active walks pursue,
“Which Melancholy shall disdain
“To mark with ebon hue.
“Still trip it in the prosperous glare;
“Ye ne'er shall see my footsteps there;
“I shun the bustling crowded court:
“In lonely grove or darksome room
“I dwell, and cast an awful gloom
“On all who near resort.
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“Go on, ye busy prating crew,
“Ye take the happier part;
“Ne'er shall my tear your cheeks bedew,
“Nor sorrows press the heart:
“Grief on light minds can never last,
“A gloom, perhaps in rising past,
“Scarce clouded e'er again 'tis bright;
“'Tis not the calm yet deep-fetch'd sigh,
“The glowing soul that melts the eye,
“And dims the fairest light.
“Ye take the happier part;
“Ne'er shall my tear your cheeks bedew,
“Nor sorrows press the heart:
“Grief on light minds can never last,
“A gloom, perhaps in rising past,
“Scarce clouded e'er again 'tis bright;
“'Tis not the calm yet deep-fetch'd sigh,
“The glowing soul that melts the eye,
“And dims the fairest light.
“Ah far! still far, my haunts avoid;
“A solitary road;
“Some yew tree shade or cavern wide,
“A gloomy drear abode.
“Come ye! whom musing fancy leads
“O'er awful philosophic meads,
“Who weigh of life each parting hour:
“Or ye, who Fortune's dross despise,
“Yet still must feel, if off she flies,
“The loss of generous power.
“A solitary road;
“Some yew tree shade or cavern wide,
“A gloomy drear abode.
“Come ye! whom musing fancy leads
“O'er awful philosophic meads,
“Who weigh of life each parting hour:
“Or ye, who Fortune's dross despise,
“Yet still must feel, if off she flies,
“The loss of generous power.
“And ah! beware ye generous youth
“Too prompt to yield the heart:
“One hand the villain lifts to soothe,
“The other holds the dart.
“Your unsuspecting bosoms know
“With nature's genial warmth to glow,
“Warm friendships and fond loves enjoying:
“But ah! the faithless crew beware,
“They are not, what they seem, sincere,
“And live but by destroying.
“Too prompt to yield the heart:
“One hand the villain lifts to soothe,
“The other holds the dart.
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“With nature's genial warmth to glow,
“Warm friendships and fond loves enjoying:
“But ah! the faithless crew beware,
“They are not, what they seem, sincere,
“And live but by destroying.
“Near to this cavern's rocky ground
“A lofty standard grew;
“His foliag'd branches spread around,
“Most comely to the view:
“A creeping vine that grovell'd nigh
“The tree receiv'd and rais'd on high,
“Pleas'd to support the wanton wreath:
“The usurping tendril wreathes too free;
“The parasite becomes the tree,
“The standard's hugg'd to death.
“A lofty standard grew;
“His foliag'd branches spread around,
“Most comely to the view:
“A creeping vine that grovell'd nigh
“The tree receiv'd and rais'd on high,
“Pleas'd to support the wanton wreath:
“The usurping tendril wreathes too free;
“The parasite becomes the tree,
“The standard's hugg'd to death.
“Come too, ye born of Sympathy,
“Whom social woes depress,
“To Melancholy's haunts be free,
“Your hearts partake distress;
“Ye turn and agonize each thought
“With the keen pangs of mortal lot,
“Give sigh for sigh, and groan for groan:
“Pale misery ye contemplate,
“Of others feel the wretched fate,
“And make it all your own.
“Whom social woes depress,
“To Melancholy's haunts be free,
“Your hearts partake distress;
“Ye turn and agonize each thought
“With the keen pangs of mortal lot,
“Give sigh for sigh, and groan for groan:
“Pale misery ye contemplate,
“Of others feel the wretched fate,
“And make it all your own.
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“And ye who court, but court in vain,
“Health's cheerful, roseate boon;
“Whose hours are tarnish'd o'er with pain,
“Whose joys are fled too soon:
“Like poor Eugenia, form'd to please,
“Yet doom'd the victim of disease,
“Where Sol pours forth his torrid day:
“Vain is her form, her song is vain,
“She charms, but languid sinks again
“Beneath the fervid ray.
“Health's cheerful, roseate boon;
“Whose hours are tarnish'd o'er with pain,
“Whose joys are fled too soon:
“Like poor Eugenia, form'd to please,
“Yet doom'd the victim of disease,
“Where Sol pours forth his torrid day:
“Vain is her form, her song is vain,
“She charms, but languid sinks again
“Beneath the fervid ray.
“And come, ye sons of simple heart,
“Who are not fain to chuse,
“But doom'd to hug the fatal dart,
“And taught by Love to muse:
“Though unavailing sighs are wind,
“Still paint the angel on your mind,
“Still hope the beauteous maid may turn;
“Still see her smile, still think ye hear
“Soft-flowing words that more endear,
“In fancied raptures burn.
“Who are not fain to chuse,
“But doom'd to hug the fatal dart,
“And taught by Love to muse:
“Though unavailing sighs are wind,
“Still paint the angel on your mind,
“Still hope the beauteous maid may turn;
“Still see her smile, still think ye hear
“Soft-flowing words that more endear,
“In fancied raptures burn.
“Come, thou black fugitive of woe,
“Who fliest the torturing scourge;
“Whose blood is taught through pores to flow,
“Whom thongs to labour urge!
“And thou, the bolder brother, thou,
“Whom Afric never taught to bow,
“To bondage rebel and to toil,
“Bold Cromantee! whose fruitless strife
“But rivets more thy chain for life,
“But makes each link a coil.
“Who fliest the torturing scourge;
“Whose blood is taught through pores to flow,
“Whom thongs to labour urge!
“And thou, the bolder brother, thou,
“Whom Afric never taught to bow,
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“Bold Cromantee! whose fruitless strife
“But rivets more thy chain for life,
“But makes each link a coil.
“Come, all ye sable sons of earth,
“Spurn'd by the fairer race;
“Made slaves by commerce or by birth,
“To Reason's sad disgrace:
“Once wanderers on your native fields,
“Where Nature ample nurture yields;
“Here come and mourn your social lot:
“Quench early at the neighbouring spring,
“A plain repast from breadnuts bring,
“Or tax the tyrant's spot:
“Spurn'd by the fairer race;
“Made slaves by commerce or by birth,
“To Reason's sad disgrace:
“Once wanderers on your native fields,
“Where Nature ample nurture yields;
“Here come and mourn your social lot:
“Quench early at the neighbouring spring,
“A plain repast from breadnuts bring,
“Or tax the tyrant's spot:
“Thence mellow avocadoes gain,
“Nor spare his roost or fold;
“The plantain thence and juicy cane;
“Whence Afric's bonds are told:
“Your portion seize ere yet day dawn,
“By nature and by hunger drawn;
“No theft—with ease of conscience blest—
“Then to this desert cave retire,
“Here kindle oft your friendly fire,
“And sink to sleep and rest.
“Nor spare his roost or fold;
“The plantain thence and juicy cane;
“Whence Afric's bonds are told:
“Your portion seize ere yet day dawn,
“By nature and by hunger drawn;
“No theft—with ease of conscience blest—
“Then to this desert cave retire,
“Here kindle oft your friendly fire,
“And sink to sleep and rest.
“Go hence, ye vain explorers! go!
“Whose thoughts from self ne'er rove—
“Yet learn this truth, ah! learn to know
“All bliss must spring from love:
“For love of God, and love of man,
“Extend our nature's bounded plan;
“Let tropic tyrants call it folly:
“'Tis vice, not man, I strive to shun—
“Ye thoughtless sons of vice begone!
“Ye know not melancholy.”
“Whose thoughts from self ne'er rove—
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“All bliss must spring from love:
“For love of God, and love of man,
“Extend our nature's bounded plan;
“Let tropic tyrants call it folly:
“'Tis vice, not man, I strive to shun—
“Ye thoughtless sons of vice begone!
“Ye know not melancholy.”
TO EUGENIA.
WRITTEN ABROAD.
While yet Eugenia on her native shore,
Laments the cruel fate that holds her there;
While I that fate with heavy sighs deplore,
And in her absence drag a life of care;
Laments the cruel fate that holds her there;
While I that fate with heavy sighs deplore,
And in her absence drag a life of care;
While through these distant groves forlorn I tread,
And wishful love my every thought employs;
Oh! faithful Memory! grant thy lively aid,
My griefs to blend with past abundant joys.
And wishful love my every thought employs;
Oh! faithful Memory! grant thy lively aid,
My griefs to blend with past abundant joys.
And, oh Eugenia! if the tale be true
That thoughts congenial o'er fond lovers reign,
May the dear charm be fully prov'd on you,
And secret sympathy relieve each pain.
That thoughts congenial o'er fond lovers reign,
May the dear charm be fully prov'd on you,
And secret sympathy relieve each pain.
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Blest! blest remembrance of my happy days!
Oh! blest effect of fairy Fancy's power!
The scene where first we whisper'd love I raise,
The meadow this, and this the very hour.
Oh! blest effect of fairy Fancy's power!
The scene where first we whisper'd love I raise,
The meadow this, and this the very hour.
Sutton! thy vernal fields were daisied o'er,
Thy hawthorns teem'd with life and sprightly may,
Where feather'd fondlings chirrup'd nature's lore,
And every lane with songs of love was gay.
Thy hawthorns teem'd with life and sprightly may,
Where feather'd fondlings chirrup'd nature's lore,
And every lane with songs of love was gay.
Nor was my song deficient to her ear,
Nor was my love unpleasing to her breast,
Nor did Eugenia feel one sordid fear,
But welcom'd fondly so sincere a guest.
Nor was my love unpleasing to her breast,
Nor did Eugenia feel one sordid fear,
But welcom'd fondly so sincere a guest.
Oh! how remembrance all my bosom warms,
Re-realiz'd, I feel, I feel it now:
I vow'd a constant passion to her charms—
Witness, great Love! to my unbroken vow.
Re-realiz'd, I feel, I feel it now:
I vow'd a constant passion to her charms—
Witness, great Love! to my unbroken vow.
How did I glow to view her virgin-charms!
How drink my passion from her nut-brown eye!
How on her bosom gaze with love's alarms!
How to her ruby lips heave many a sigh.
How drink my passion from her nut-brown eye!
How on her bosom gaze with love's alarms!
How to her ruby lips heave many a sigh.
Those angel-charms whence purely I had glow'd,
Those love-made lips where sighs had fondly flown,
Those eyes, that bosom, all, she all bestow'd,
And I was blest to find her all my own.
Those love-made lips where sighs had fondly flown,
Those eyes, that bosom, all, she all bestow'd,
And I was blest to find her all my own.
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Here let me pause—yet Fancy! take thy scope;
Again o'er each transporting image rove:
But drop the powerless pen, nor vainly hope
That words can paint the ecstasies of love.
Again o'er each transporting image rove:
But drop the powerless pen, nor vainly hope
That words can paint the ecstasies of love.
Venus might tell them to the beauteous boy
Whom love-lost Mirrha to her parent bore,
Breathe in celestial tones the heavenly joy,
And teach the lovely youth delicious lore.
Whom love-lost Mirrha to her parent bore,
Breathe in celestial tones the heavenly joy,
And teach the lovely youth delicious lore.
But! madding fancy! whither dost thou stray?
To bounds! to bounds! nor kill me with thy art:
Till she appear thy power's excess delay,
And take the gentler lead of Memory's part.
To bounds! to bounds! nor kill me with thy art:
Till she appear thy power's excess delay,
And take the gentler lead of Memory's part.
Possessing thee what various bliss I prove,
Where mind and person join each female grace:
Whate'er can admiration raise, or love,
Springs from thy soul, and sparkles in thy face.
Where mind and person join each female grace:
Whate'er can admiration raise, or love,
Springs from thy soul, and sparkles in thy face.
And for precedence see thy charms contend:
Thy shape and dance can fancy e'er forget?
Now to thy powers of voice my ear I lend,
Now listen to thy wond'rous flageolet.
Thy shape and dance can fancy e'er forget?
Now to thy powers of voice my ear I lend,
Now listen to thy wond'rous flageolet.
Music! thy notes are nature, nature here;
Swift flies Eugenia 'fore the ken of art:
Still to sweet harmony how true her ear!
In her, great nature ravishes my heart.
Swift flies Eugenia 'fore the ken of art:
Still to sweet harmony how true her ear!
In her, great nature ravishes my heart.
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Still to religion, still to virtue true,
Together have we search'd the hallow'd sky;
Together sigh'd at woe, and promptly flew
To heal a wound, or give a spring to joy.
Together have we search'd the hallow'd sky;
Together sigh'd at woe, and promptly flew
To heal a wound, or give a spring to joy.
These are the pleasures I have proved with thee.
Again these pleasures will I prove ere long:
Again from anxious cares shall we be free,
Nor love be wasted in an idle song.
Again these pleasures will I prove ere long:
Again from anxious cares shall we be free,
Nor love be wasted in an idle song.
Then fly, Eugenia, to thy lover's arms;
Bring me those love-made lips, those nut-brown eyes:
We'll live to love, and scout life's false alarms,
And kiss its transient sorrows into joys.
Bring me those love-made lips, those nut-brown eyes:
We'll live to love, and scout life's false alarms,
And kiss its transient sorrows into joys.
282
THE WINGS OF LOVE.
SAID TO BE PRODUCED BY KISSES.
'Tis said Love flies:—Whence sprung his wings?
The boy was born with no such things;
For Innocence would never rove,
And wings were needless then for Love:
Nor did they shoot as up he grew,
Fond infancy is pure and true;
And still unfledg'd he reach'd the age
When gentle sighs the heart engage;
For constancy will ever prove
The sister fair of youthful Love.
The boy was born with no such things;
For Innocence would never rove,
And wings were needless then for Love:
Nor did they shoot as up he grew,
Fond infancy is pure and true;
And still unfledg'd he reach'd the age
When gentle sighs the heart engage;
For constancy will ever prove
The sister fair of youthful Love.
283
But soon as e'er one balmy kiss
From Chloe's lip had seal'd his bliss,
And taught his little heart to leap,
The callow points began to peep:
Another kiss—the callow points
To pinions sprout with downy joints:
Kiss follows kiss—two days 'tis said,
Full plumage o'er the pinions spread.
In fine, he talk'd and woo'd so well,
He gain'd much more than I shall tell:
Soon as his power the urchin knew,
He proudly clapp'd his wings and flew.
From Chloe's lip had seal'd his bliss,
And taught his little heart to leap,
The callow points began to peep:
Another kiss—the callow points
To pinions sprout with downy joints:
Kiss follows kiss—two days 'tis said,
Full plumage o'er the pinions spread.
In fine, he talk'd and woo'd so well,
He gain'd much more than I shall tell:
Soon as his power the urchin knew,
He proudly clapp'd his wings and flew.
LOVE REFUTES THE CHARGE.
“Love proudly clapp'd his wings and flew,
“When from a kiss his power he knew.”
“When from a kiss his power he knew.”
So sings the bard in witty vein:
The injured boy denies the strain;
Denies that kisses e'er could prove
The origin of wings to Love.
What! kisses! than Ambrosia sweeter,
Moistening from the rosy feature;
Diffusing every soft delight,
Shall kisses put the god to flight?
Such open malice Love defies:
Consult your heart, the smiler cries—
That heart, o'er which supreme I reign,
Through ten fond years has woo'd my chain:
Meanwhile with many a glowing kiss
Eugenia's lip has seal'd your bliss,
And flam'd your heart with raptures strong!
Yet for Eugenia's lip you long:
'Tis for her lip alone you glow,
'Tis to her lip your joys you owe.
The injured boy denies the strain;
Denies that kisses e'er could prove
The origin of wings to Love.
What! kisses! than Ambrosia sweeter,
Moistening from the rosy feature;
Diffusing every soft delight,
Shall kisses put the god to flight?
284
Consult your heart, the smiler cries—
That heart, o'er which supreme I reign,
Through ten fond years has woo'd my chain:
Meanwhile with many a glowing kiss
Eugenia's lip has seal'd your bliss,
And flam'd your heart with raptures strong!
Yet for Eugenia's lip you long:
'Tis for her lip alone you glow,
'Tis to her lip your joys you owe.
THE CAROLINE.
Three matchless properties combine
To make the female form divine;
Idalian properties, above,
Distinguish'd in the Queen of Love:
But though of high celestial fame,
Among the gods they have no name,
Unvocal speak to sense divine,
As here to us in Caroline.
To make the female form divine;
Idalian properties, above,
Distinguish'd in the Queen of Love:
But though of high celestial fame,
Among the gods they have no name,
Unvocal speak to sense divine,
As here to us in Caroline.
Observe the raptur'd eye that tells
What charm in due proportion dwells
Proportion which the art can give
To make the very marble live,
Traces the neck, the shoulder, waist,
The foot, the ancle justly plac'd:
Men call it symmetry divine,
But gods shall name it Caroline.
What charm in due proportion dwells
285
To make the very marble live,
Traces the neck, the shoulder, waist,
The foot, the ancle justly plac'd:
Men call it symmetry divine,
But gods shall name it Caroline.
How spirit animates each feature
Of a lively, blooming creature!
O'er all the face its spells arise,
But chiefly eloquent the eyes;
There fly the secrets of the heart,
Thence lovers wordless vows impart:
While thus expression we define,
The gods shall call it Caroline.
Of a lively, blooming creature!
O'er all the face its spells arise,
But chiefly eloquent the eyes;
There fly the secrets of the heart,
Thence lovers wordless vows impart:
While thus expression we define,
The gods shall call it Caroline.
Come forth Euphrosyne; I see
The charm that crowns the matchless three:
'Tis on that nether lip, and now
It darts across that farther brow;
Now to thy bosom sweeps the Loves,
And now beneath thy steps it moves:
'Tis grace as worded by the nine,
Call it, ye gods, your Caroline.
The charm that crowns the matchless three:
'Tis on that nether lip, and now
It darts across that farther brow;
Now to thy bosom sweeps the Loves,
And now beneath thy steps it moves:
'Tis grace as worded by the nine,
Call it, ye gods, your Caroline.
But should the immortals now descend,
And for strict grammar rules contend,
Calling Dan Priscian to affirm,
That each idea claims a term,
Do thou Mæonides, arise!
Improve the language of the skies;
Then, when the gods the three combine,
They'll call the union Caroline.
And for strict grammar rules contend,
Calling Dan Priscian to affirm,
That each idea claims a term,
286
Improve the language of the skies;
Then, when the gods the three combine,
They'll call the union Caroline.
THE TWENTY-NINTH OF APRIL:
OR, THE APPROACH OF THE MAY.
TO CHARLOTTE.
Cold winter is gone, and now Phœbus rides high,
Announcing the charms of a temperate sky:
Observe, my dear Charlotte, how lively and gay
All Nature appears at the approach of the May.
Announcing the charms of a temperate sky:
Observe, my dear Charlotte, how lively and gay
All Nature appears at the approach of the May.
The meadows, reviving, put on their best green,
And daisies are crowding in swarms to be seen;
The cowslips, the lilies, the roses, display
Their beautiful petals to welcome the May.
And daisies are crowding in swarms to be seen;
The cowslips, the lilies, the roses, display
Their beautiful petals to welcome the May.
The trees are in leaf, and their blossoms are spread,
Gay gardens begin Nature's perfume to shed;
And hawthorn, unprun'd, now prepares to array,
With modest white robes, all the hedges of May.
Gay gardens begin Nature's perfume to shed;
And hawthorn, unprun'd, now prepares to array,
With modest white robes, all the hedges of May.
287
In gay thoughtless groups see the butterflies romp,
Who have nothing to boast of indeed but their pomp;
Vain things! they seem useless—and yet might they say,
“We spread our fine wings to do honour to May.”
Who have nothing to boast of indeed but their pomp;
Vain things! they seem useless—and yet might they say,
“We spread our fine wings to do honour to May.”
The bee, ever busy, makes much of the hour,
And hums as he ranges from flower to flower:
In humming and probing he passes the day,
Then home to the hive bears the treasure of May.
And hums as he ranges from flower to flower:
In humming and probing he passes the day,
Then home to the hive bears the treasure of May.
Awak'd from their trances new pleasures to share,
Glad swallows are flitting the spring-temper'd air;
And sweetly the blackbirds are whistling their lay,
To celebrate all the return of the May.
Glad swallows are flitting the spring-temper'd air;
And sweetly the blackbirds are whistling their lay,
To celebrate all the return of the May.
Let butterflies romp, let the bee fill his hive,
Let swallows and blackbirds be glad they're alive,
While fondly I sing too, on this happy day,
The girl who appear'd at the approach of the May.
Let swallows and blackbirds be glad they're alive,
While fondly I sing too, on this happy day,
The girl who appear'd at the approach of the May.
She is modest, obedient, attentive, and kind,
Not vain of her person, but fond of her mind;
Then shower thy blessings, Almighty! I pray,
On the girl who appear'd at the approach of the May.
Not vain of her person, but fond of her mind;
Then shower thy blessings, Almighty! I pray,
On the girl who appear'd at the approach of the May.
288
TO CLARA.
Translated, with an additional verse.
[_]
A lively French girl being at a christening refused to kiss the infant. Being afterwards told that the mother of the child was seriously hurt at it, she repaired her error by the following apology.
As circling dames, dear Clara, press'd
Your dimpled boy to see,
That I withdrew while they caress'd,
Where can the wonder be?
Your dimpled boy to see,
That I withdrew while they caress'd,
Where can the wonder be?
My court 'twas easy to have paid,
And all offence remove:
But then, what would the world have said
To see me kissing Love?
And all offence remove:
But then, what would the world have said
To see me kissing Love?
289
Full well they know the thing forbid
To maiden such as me;
And many a voice the deed had chid
As giddy, bold, and free.
To maiden such as me;
And many a voice the deed had chid
As giddy, bold, and free.
That prudence thus should you aggrieve,
At first I thought was odd;
But, on reflection, I forgive
The Mother of the God.
At first I thought was odd;
But, on reflection, I forgive
The Mother of the God.
STANZAS, By the Chevalier de Boufflers, upon being desired by the Queen of France to write a song on her faults.
TRANSLATION.
291
Would you know what rumour lays
To the charge of Antoinette?
That she's often light, it says,
Fickle, mad, and a coquette.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
So well the line her fancy draws;
Her very flights
Create delights,
And Cato's self would smile applause.
To the charge of Antoinette?
That she's often light, it says,
Fickle, mad, and a coquette.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
So well the line her fancy draws;
Her very flights
Create delights,
And Cato's self would smile applause.
Sense, 'tis said, her royal head
Does not overburden much;
Adulation too, 'tis said,
Easily her soul can touch.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
So well she manages the matter;
The gods on high
Would leave their sky
And come on earth her charms to flatter.
Does not overburden much;
Adulation too, 'tis said,
Easily her soul can touch.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
So well she manages the matter;
The gods on high
Would leave their sky
And come on earth her charms to flatter.
292
If of business or of pleasure,
The hour by herself be set,
One, 'tis said, may wait her leisure;
'Tis a trifle to forget.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
That when we next behold her face,
All wrongs adieu,
Delights renew,
And time flies on with double pace.
The hour by herself be set,
One, 'tis said, may wait her leisure;
'Tis a trifle to forget.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
That when we next behold her face,
All wrongs adieu,
Delights renew,
And time flies on with double pace.
That I and me fill all discourse,
And self runs on supremely;
'Tis said she finds no other source,
And loves herself extremely.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
The plan is just you'll find:
What blame to prove
That she should love
What's lov'd by all mankind?
And self runs on supremely;
'Tis said she finds no other source,
And loves herself extremely.
And is it so?
Oh! yes, but know
The plan is just you'll find:
What blame to prove
That she should love
What's lov'd by all mankind?
293
ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.
FIRST SPIRIT.Sister Spirit! where speeds Death,
Haste and watch the fleeting soul:
Follow quick that mournful toll,
'Tis some infant's parting breath.
SECOND SPIRIT.
This way, sister! 'tis our parts
Infant shoots of life to tend,
Tender spirits to befriend,
And transplant the purest hearts.
FIRST SPIRIT.
Haste along! I hear the tone
Of a weeping mother's moan—
Lo! the body on its bier,
Lo! the spirit hov'ring near.
SECOND SPIRIT.
List we to the woman's woe,
Once on earth like her we felt,
And this sight our hearts could melt,
Till we left the world below.
MOTHER.
Too cruel blow! Oh Death! restore!—
Alas! he's gone—the breath is fled!
My lovely boy lies cold, lies dead,
I ne'er shall see nor hear him more.
And shall the grave enclose
So sweet a rose?
294
My lovely boy lies cold, lies dead,
I ne'er shall see nor hear him more.
And shall the grave enclose
So sweet a rose?
Oh! break my heart, for life is sore,
Break heart, and let the pang be o'er.
Break heart, and let the pang be o'er.
FIRST SPIRIT.
Mortals born such griefs to endure!
Lenient time shall be her cure.
Gentle Spirit! come away!
Court no more thy mould'ring clay.
SECOND SPIRIT.
When infant spirits leave the earth,
In these abodes they then have birth:
For heav'nly knowledge now prepare;
To us thy God consigns the care.
Hallelujah!
INFANT SPIRIT.
As bursting from a shell I feel,
What wonders teem in this abode!
Kind Spirits lead me, and reveal
The paths that guide me to my God!
Hallelujah!
295
All pain is past, and plain the road
That spirits take to find their God.
Hallelujah!
CAROLINE:
A PASTORAL ELEGY FOR MUSIC.
TIME—THE EVENING.CHORUS.
Glory to heaven! the day is o'er:
We love mankind, and God adore.
FIRST SHEPHERDESS.
With humble heart I say Amen!
To heaven praise, and peace to men;
But we must Caroline bewail,
The fairest blossom of the vale.
CHORUS.
With woodbines let the cypress twine,
To shade the tomb of Caroline.
296
'Twas past the dawn and Aura near,
As wakeful on my bed I lay,
These sounds did surely strike mine ear,
“Come, lovely Caroline, away.”
CHORUS.
Beauty and innocence were thine!
Ah! why so soon died Caroline!
SECOND SHEPHERD.
As near the brook I graz'd my kine
And lay beneath a tree supine,
Believe me, swains, I saw the willow,
Slow-dropping, touch my grassy pillow.
CHORUS.
Her temper sweet, her soul divine!
Ah! why so soon died Caroline!
SECOND SHEPHERDESS.
A blooming damask caught my eye,
The bud unclos'd allured me nigh;
“A lovely rose 'twill prove”—I spoke,
When from the stalk the rose-bud broke.
CHORUS.
If aught from youth we may divine,
Ah! why so soon died Caroline!
297
Shepherds! methinks 'tis plain to see
Our valley felt the sad decree,
When angels with enticing lay
Called lovely Caroline away.
CHORUS.
Come lovely Caroline away,
Come, and partake our brighter day.
THIRD SHEPHERD.
We who can feel the power of love,
Must offer much at Sorrow's shrine:
Then haste and raise a solemn grove,
To shade the tomb of Caroline.
CHORUS.
Let's offer then at Sorrow's shrine,
To soothe the shade of Caroline!
FINALE.
Glory to heaven! the day is o'er:
We love mankind, and God adore.
Amen.
298
THE THOUGHTS OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE,
ON THE MORNING OF HER EXECUTION, October 16th, 1793.
The expected hour is come at last!
For me the scaffold they prepare:
My love, my king, to thee I haste,
Spirit of Bourbon, meet me there.
Beloved shade! whom I adore,
Thy spirit thro' yon blissful skies
From mine shall wander now no more:
Their fury strikes—I come—I rise.
For me the scaffold they prepare:
My love, my king, to thee I haste,
Spirit of Bourbon, meet me there.
Beloved shade! whom I adore,
Thy spirit thro' yon blissful skies
From mine shall wander now no more:
Their fury strikes—I come—I rise.
The splendour of an earthly throne
Could charm when shar'd, my love, with thee:
But Sorrow mark'd me as her own,
And doom'd a double death for me.
Strike, Frenchmen, strike; my life restore,
For I nor death nor insult dread;
A death inglorious now no more,
Ennobled when my Bourbon bled.
Could charm when shar'd, my love, with thee:
But Sorrow mark'd me as her own,
And doom'd a double death for me.
Strike, Frenchmen, strike; my life restore,
For I nor death nor insult dread;
A death inglorious now no more,
Ennobled when my Bourbon bled.
Alas my children! fearful thought!
That chains my bursting soul below;
Oh! 'tis through you that death comes fraught
With all the agony of woe.
Flow on my tears, your force I own,
Nor blush to have my sorrows seen:
If in my jail the mother groan,
Beneath the steel I'll bleed a Queen.
That chains my bursting soul below;
Oh! 'tis through you that death comes fraught
With all the agony of woe.
299
Nor blush to have my sorrows seen:
If in my jail the mother groan,
Beneath the steel I'll bleed a Queen.
If Justice yet her arm suspend,
If heaven awhile prolong your doom,
Monsters! the ripening wrath attend;
It lingers but to strike more home.
But hark! the creaking gates declare
Death soon shall terminate my woes:
Great God! protect my orphan pair!
Great God! forgive my savage foes!
If heaven awhile prolong your doom,
Monsters! the ripening wrath attend;
It lingers but to strike more home.
But hark! the creaking gates declare
Death soon shall terminate my woes:
Great God! protect my orphan pair!
Great God! forgive my savage foes!
EPITAPH ON GEORGIANA B---.
'Tis but a frame of earth that moulders here;B---, immortal, fills her native sphere:
Bursting the shell that kept her from the skies,
With early virtue crown'd she early flies.
Yet dear the frame to those who knew her worth,
Who saw her animate that fragile earth,
Saw the light form that thro' its smile benign
Spoke the quick transit of its charge divine;
300
The charms of friendship and of taste dispense:
'Tis theirs to mourn, 'tis theirs the loss to prove,
And pay the tribute of terrestrial love:
But weep not, thou, whom leisure leads to glean
A sacred moral from this mortal scene;
Rather to thine own bosom turn, enquire
If vice imbrute thee, or if virtue fire;
If impious pride the saving God deny,
Or hope and peace the Christian lore supply;
With pious awe these sacred mansions tread,
And learn to live for ever of the dead.
STANZAS TO A HARP.
[_]
She who was once mistress of it delighted in chants and other sacred music. She delighted in adapting to the harp compositions written for the piano-forte, in order that she and her sister might play them together in parts.
Be mute ye strings! cold is the hand
That moraliz'd your mellow strains;
Silenc'd the voice that led your band
To sounds of joy, or fancied pains,
What time matur'd domestic pleasures,
The father's pride, the mother's joy;
When dance, and verse, and mingled measures,
Bestow'd a bliss without alloy.
That moraliz'd your mellow strains;
Silenc'd the voice that led your band
To sounds of joy, or fancied pains,
What time matur'd domestic pleasures,
The father's pride, the mother's joy;
When dance, and verse, and mingled measures,
Bestow'd a bliss without alloy.
301
Be mute ye strings! no more a charm
Your soft vibrations can impart;
Extinct the flame empower'd to warm;
Cold, cold, the joy-inspiring heart!
That heart which teem'd with sacred fire,
And hymn'd the universal Lord;
Which glow'd to tune a sister's lyre,
And harmoniz'd the various chord.
Your soft vibrations can impart;
Extinct the flame empower'd to warm;
Cold, cold, the joy-inspiring heart!
That heart which teem'd with sacred fire,
And hymn'd the universal Lord;
Which glow'd to tune a sister's lyre,
And harmoniz'd the various chord.
Be mute ye strings! for she is dead;
Or learn alone from me to sigh;
Your charm is broke, your spirit fled,
To chant her glorious songs on high.
What mean these sounds spontaneous flowing?
A seraph strikes the raptur'd strings:
What mean these words celestial glowing?
“Hosannah to the King of Kings!”
Or learn alone from me to sigh;
Your charm is broke, your spirit fled,
To chant her glorious songs on high.
What mean these sounds spontaneous flowing?
A seraph strikes the raptur'd strings:
What mean these words celestial glowing?
“Hosannah to the King of Kings!”
Resound ye strings! my Charlotte's voice
Again leads on your charmed band:
Now gently sigh, now loud rejoice,
Obedient to the seraph's hand!
Oh Fancy, thine celestial treasures!
Ope to my soul thy healing springs;
Give me to join her heavenly measures—
“Hosannah to the King of Kings!”
Again leads on your charmed band:
Now gently sigh, now loud rejoice,
Obedient to the seraph's hand!
Oh Fancy, thine celestial treasures!
Ope to my soul thy healing springs;
Give me to join her heavenly measures—
“Hosannah to the King of Kings!”
| The miscellaneous works and novels of R. C. Dallas | |