Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery including selections from his correspondence, remains in prose and verse, and conversations or various subjects. By John Holland and James Everett |
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| III. | CANTO III. |
 | Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery |  |
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CANTO III.
Great Nature now, transcendent queen,
Enters our wild Siberian scene;
Around in hushed attention lies,
The theatre of earth and skies;
Not deeper silence, darker gloom,
Lull the cold region of the tomb.
Marshalled in dreadful ranks at hand,
The elements on tiptoe stand,
Spirits that earth and ocean fill,
Or work in fire and air her will;
Impatient each to prove his power,
And rule, the tyrant of the hour,
Yet trembling with mysterious awe,
Live on her look—her look their law!
Enters our wild Siberian scene;
Around in hushed attention lies,
The theatre of earth and skies;
Not deeper silence, darker gloom,
Lull the cold region of the tomb.
Marshalled in dreadful ranks at hand,
The elements on tiptoe stand,
Spirits that earth and ocean fill,
Or work in fire and air her will;
Impatient each to prove his power,
And rule, the tyrant of the hour,
Yet trembling with mysterious awe,
Live on her look—her look their law!
She came: the clouds before her sight,
Undrew the curtains of the night;
The smiling moon, and stars serene,
Bowed in bright homage to their queen;
Gay northern glories o'er the sky
Broke from the lightning of her eye;
While all the hoary hills below
Shone in the majesty of snow;
The echoing vales with music rang,
For bears and wolves in concert sang;
Shrill piped the gale, and hoarse and deep
The waves responded in their sleep.
Pleased with the scene, th' enchantress smiled
In boundless beauty o'er the wild,
Then, lest its charms too soon be lost,
Bound the resplendent night in frost!
Her awful head she then declined,
And sunk to stillness with the wind;
Cold o'er her nerves the numbness crept,
And chilled her heart-strings—Nature slept!
Outstretched she lay, from west to east,
Six thousand English miles at least:
From gloomy Greenland's coast forlorn,
To where Kamtschatka hails the morn,
The lady's longitude extended,—
And there the frost began and ended!
Undrew the curtains of the night;
The smiling moon, and stars serene,
Bowed in bright homage to their queen;
Gay northern glories o'er the sky
Broke from the lightning of her eye;
While all the hoary hills below
Shone in the majesty of snow;
The echoing vales with music rang,
For bears and wolves in concert sang;
Shrill piped the gale, and hoarse and deep
The waves responded in their sleep.
Pleased with the scene, th' enchantress smiled
In boundless beauty o'er the wild,
Then, lest its charms too soon be lost,
Bound the resplendent night in frost!
Her awful head she then declined,
And sunk to stillness with the wind;
Cold o'er her nerves the numbness crept,
And chilled her heart-strings—Nature slept!
Outstretched she lay, from west to east,
Six thousand English miles at least:
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To where Kamtschatka hails the morn,
The lady's longitude extended,—
And there the frost began and ended!
“How dare you libel Nature thus?
Think not to pass such dreams on us!”
Nay, critics, do not storm about her,
We could not make a frost without her;
And bards, for lack of better means,
Are privileged to use machines:
The Muse had sworn, whate'er the cost,
To pawn Parnassus for a frost;
A frost the story did require,
Though frost had set the world on fire!
Think not to pass such dreams on us!”
Nay, critics, do not storm about her,
We could not make a frost without her;
And bards, for lack of better means,
Are privileged to use machines:
The Muse had sworn, whate'er the cost,
To pawn Parnassus for a frost;
A frost the story did require,
Though frost had set the world on fire!
When o'er the hills the morning broke,
Thetis and Cytherea 'woke,
But vainly struggled in their beds,
To loose their limbs, and lift their heads;
Those heads that lent their ample tresses,
To wind those limbs in soft undresses,
Those heads the tyrant Frost had bound,
Those limbs enchanted to the ground,
Congealed in ice those radiant locks,
And fixed the goddesses on rocks.
Thetis and Cytherea 'woke,
But vainly struggled in their beds,
To loose their limbs, and lift their heads;
Those heads that lent their ample tresses,
To wind those limbs in soft undresses,
Those heads the tyrant Frost had bound,
Those limbs enchanted to the ground,
Congealed in ice those radiant locks,
And fixed the goddesses on rocks.
Thus Gulliver, as Swift relates,—
The shuttlecock of adverse fates,—
By winds and waves, with dire commotion,
Borne o'er the solitude of ocean,
Landed at length his luckless foot
On the sweet shore of Lilliput;
Where, like a weather-beaten ass,
He couched and slumbered on the grass;
But waking soon, with horror found
His limbs in cobweb-cables bound,
By every hair upon his head
Chained fast to his terrestrial bed!
The shuttlecock of adverse fates,—
By winds and waves, with dire commotion,
Borne o'er the solitude of ocean,
Landed at length his luckless foot
On the sweet shore of Lilliput;
Where, like a weather-beaten ass,
He couched and slumbered on the grass;
But waking soon, with horror found
His limbs in cobweb-cables bound,
By every hair upon his head
Chained fast to his terrestrial bed!
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With lucid ice encrusted round,
Like flies in beauteous amber found,
Our dames, in cold confinement pent
By Nature's act of parliament,
Pled Magna Charta to no purpose,
And sued in vain for Habeas Corpus;
Ah! who with Nature can contend,
And hope to triumph in the end?
If at the door the witch you spurn,
Quick through the window she'll return;
Driven from the head, you feel her dart
Through every fibre of the heart!
So when physicians hunt the gout,
The lame distemper skips about
From limb to limb, and stops with ease
The patient's breath, the doctor's fees.
Like flies in beauteous amber found,
Our dames, in cold confinement pent
By Nature's act of parliament,
Pled Magna Charta to no purpose,
And sued in vain for Habeas Corpus;
Ah! who with Nature can contend,
And hope to triumph in the end?
If at the door the witch you spurn,
Quick through the window she'll return;
Driven from the head, you feel her dart
Through every fibre of the heart!
So when physicians hunt the gout,
The lame distemper skips about
From limb to limb, and stops with ease
The patient's breath, the doctor's fees.
When Jove beheld the mighty odds,
He called a synod of the gods;
Gods who in wood, and stone, and brass,
For very honest men might pass;
But when from brass, and stone, and wood,
The poets made them flesh and blood,
The metamorphosed blocks and logs
Were verily most shabby dogs.
He called a synod of the gods;
Gods who in wood, and stone, and brass,
For very honest men might pass;
But when from brass, and stone, and wood,
The poets made them flesh and blood,
The metamorphosed blocks and logs
Were verily most shabby dogs.
Each minor god assumed his throne;
Jove o'er the rest superior shone,
Much like the Jove of winter nights,
Surrounded by his satellites!
The Thunderer then, with arms a-kimbo,
Told of our goddesses in limbo;
Quick at the news the powers on high
Peeped from the windows of the sky,
Convulsed with laughter when they saw
Immortals bound by Nature's law,
Almost in bankruptcy of breath,
Stretched at the turnpike-gate of Death,
Through which no traveller, on trust,
Did ever pass—or ever must;
Where Time himself, by Fate's decree,
Pays tribute to Eternity!
Jove o'er the rest superior shone,
Much like the Jove of winter nights,
Surrounded by his satellites!
The Thunderer then, with arms a-kimbo,
Told of our goddesses in limbo;
Quick at the news the powers on high
Peeped from the windows of the sky,
Convulsed with laughter when they saw
Immortals bound by Nature's law,
Almost in bankruptcy of breath,
Stretched at the turnpike-gate of Death,
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Did ever pass—or ever must;
Where Time himself, by Fate's decree,
Pays tribute to Eternity!
Momus alone, with solemn grace,
Maintained his fortitude of face,
Bowed at the central throne his skull,
And thus addressed the Great Mogul:—
“An't please your worship, my advice
Would free the ladies in a trice.”
“Take counsel,” Jove exclaimed, “of you?—
The powers dethrone me if I do!”
“Nay, don't be angry,” Momus said;
“Do anything but shake your head.”
Maintained his fortitude of face,
Bowed at the central throne his skull,
And thus addressed the Great Mogul:—
“An't please your worship, my advice
Would free the ladies in a trice.”
“Take counsel,” Jove exclaimed, “of you?—
The powers dethrone me if I do!”
“Nay, don't be angry,” Momus said;
“Do anything but shake your head.”
That moment, such the will of Fate,
With rage the Thunderer shook his pate;
Then rocked the pillars of creation,
Pale Nature reeled on her foundation,
Through every joint she felt the shock
Of Jove's electrifying block;
Oh! then were broken in a trice
Her spell of frost and charm of ice;
Our startled captives raised their heads,
And sprang triumphant from their beds;
But, dire mischance! among the rocks
Left the rich harvest of their locks—
Those locks divine, in ice inurned,
That ice to purest crystal turned!
With rage the Thunderer shook his pate;
Then rocked the pillars of creation,
Pale Nature reeled on her foundation,
Through every joint she felt the shock
Of Jove's electrifying block;
Oh! then were broken in a trice
Her spell of frost and charm of ice;
Our startled captives raised their heads,
And sprang triumphant from their beds;
But, dire mischance! among the rocks
Left the rich harvest of their locks—
Those locks divine, in ice inurned,
That ice to purest crystal turned!
As Berenice's beams appear
Enshrined in heaven's own sapphire sphere,
With ringlets of celestial light,
Dishevelled o'er the brows of Night,
Thus in that cavern's hideous womb,
Twinkling sweet splendour through the gloom,
Those tresses in transparent stone,
A richer constellation shone.
Here the bright sea-nymph's curls were seen,
Like fairy rings of glossy green;
And Cytherea's ravished hair,
A golden treasure, glittered there,
As if the moon enthroned on high,
Had cast her halo from the sky.
Enshrined in heaven's own sapphire sphere,
With ringlets of celestial light,
Dishevelled o'er the brows of Night,
Thus in that cavern's hideous womb,
Twinkling sweet splendour through the gloom,
Those tresses in transparent stone,
A richer constellation shone.
330
Like fairy rings of glossy green;
And Cytherea's ravished hair,
A golden treasure, glittered there,
As if the moon enthroned on high,
Had cast her halo from the sky.
The goddesses, struck dumb with wonder,
A moment gazed,—then fled asunder;
Pale Thetis sought her native haven,
And reached old Greece, chagrined and shaven;
There, wandering midst her darkest rocks,
She mourned Achilles—and her locks;
While Venus, on the wings of morn,
Gay as a grasshopper, though shorn,
Flew to the skies, and triumphed there
O'er every head and every hair;
The gods, their wives and daughters sweet,
Laid beards and tresses at her feet:
And every pate and every chin
Was cropt and levelled to the skin;
And to this origin, perhaps,
We owe the birth of wigs and caps:
While love shall reign the sovereign passion,
Beauty will always lead the fashion.
A moment gazed,—then fled asunder;
Pale Thetis sought her native haven,
And reached old Greece, chagrined and shaven;
There, wandering midst her darkest rocks,
She mourned Achilles—and her locks;
While Venus, on the wings of morn,
Gay as a grasshopper, though shorn,
Flew to the skies, and triumphed there
O'er every head and every hair;
The gods, their wives and daughters sweet,
Laid beards and tresses at her feet:
And every pate and every chin
Was cropt and levelled to the skin;
And to this origin, perhaps,
We owe the birth of wigs and caps:
While love shall reign the sovereign passion,
Beauty will always lead the fashion.
| Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery | |