View Larger Image (65.4K)
Copyright (c) 1999, Nancy Kushigian
This edition may be copied freely by individuals for personal use, research, and teaching (including distribution to classes) as long as this statement of availability is included in the text. It may be linked to by internet editions of all kinds.
Scholars interested in changing or adding to these texts by, for example, creating a new edition of the text (electronically or in print) with substantive editorial changes, may do so with the permission of the publisher. This is the case whether the new publication will be made available at a cost or free of charge.
This text may not be not be reproduced as a commercial or non-profit product, in print or from an information server.
Available at: http://libdev2.ucdavis.edu/English/BWRP/Works/DayeEPoems.sgm
The editors thank the Shields Library, University of California, Davis, for its support for this project.
Purchase of software has been made possible by a research grant from the Librarians' Association of the University of California, Davis chapter.
All poems, line groups, and lines are represented. All material originally typeset has been preserved, with the exception of running heads, the original prose line breaks, signature markings and decorative typographical elements. Page numbers and page breaks have been preserved. Pencilled annotations and other damage to the text have not been preserved. In this electronic edition the use of Old Face type has been normalized.
Title Page]
POEMS,
ON
VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
BY
IT is with humble diffidence I introduce my Poems to the world, confident only of their religious and moral tendency; I rest on that foundation, and willingly submit their other merits to the decision of FAIR CRITICISM.
If the work should not be found strictly correct, I must, in justice to my printer and myself, name my living at a distance from him; and the frequent and long interruptions my ill health, and other circumstances, have occasioned in the publication, very unfavourable to an uniform correctness.
I hope my errata will supply any material defects, and for the rest, I resign myself to the candour of the public.
LANCASTER.
CIRENCESTER.
MELLING.
PLACE GREEN, KENT.
NOW
beneath pale Luna's beam,
Fairies sport, while mortals dream;
Cruel schemes they plan to-night,
Mischief charms each pigmy sprite;
Hear, enraged, their frowning queen,
Thus exclaim, with jealous spleen;
Shall a mortal dare be blest,
When sad Titania cannot rest?
Thwart their marriage, fairy elves,
Or scorn and hate pursue yourselves.
Thrice I wave my magic wand,
Your signal to prepare;
Obedient to your queen's command,
Ascend the ambient air.
Five times compass round the earth
Ere day your motions bind;
Thence bring each scatter'd mischief forth,
Pandora once confin'd.
Blooms yon bower in summer's pride?
Soon shall my fell revenge,
Poisons in every beauty hide,
And nature's charms shall change.
Quick as thought my elves begone,
Impatient as my mind,
Fly swift before the tardy moon,
And leave e'en light behind.
Instant see the work is wrought,
See the scattered mischiefs brought;
In Palemon's fav'rite bower,
Quick they taint each beauteous flower.
Diseases weave their baneful net,
Round the sweetest minionet.
On the jessamine's snowy breast,
Cold Indifference takes its rest;
While Discord's evils to disclose,
It lurks within the blooming rose.
Jealousy its venom twines,
Round the greenest eglantines;
Deceit, which ever wounds unseen,
Takes the gay carnation's mien.
While beneath the woodbine's shade,
Sad Despair reclines his head,
Sullen, tainting by his power,
The freshest leaf and sweetest flower;
But the myrtle I deplore,
Of love the emblem--ah! no more.
Envy spreads her hateful sway,
All its wonted charms decay.
The hour that gives a life to joy,
Must all our anxious thoughts employ.
Palemon, early from his bower,
Plucks many a sweet and fatal flower;
And oft he would with transport cry,
I take you to a milder sky.
Accept, he said, most lov'd and fair,
The sweets which may with thee compare.
Health o'er her cheek its roses threw,
Diseases ghastly forms withdrew,
She look'd--and cold Indifference fled,
The jessamine hung its pallid head;
She spoke--the blooming rose must die,
For discord turn'd to harmony.
The eglantine was next subdued,
For jealousy can ne'er obtrude,
Where conscious worth and native sense,
Inspire a generous confidence.
Her candid speech, her heart sincere,
The gay carnation next must fear;
Honour and innocence still rise,
Superior to a low disguise.
The woodbine felt a quick decay,
For soon she smiled despair away;
Graces which other ills subdued,
Were but bitter Envy's food.
Palemon, with a cheering eye,
Observed, that beauty bloom'd to die,
But Hebe's merit still would prove,
The bond of undecaying love.
Preserving still its native hue,
Unimpair'd the myrtle grew,
Palemon vow'd to plant with care,
What withering blasts had meant to spare,
And with th' auspicious day's return,
In Hebe's breast it should be worn.
Cynthia now with silver light,
Gilds the silent hour of night ;
Again the fairy tribe are seen,
And sprightly moves their alter'd queen;
She laughing tells her kinder sprite,
The mischiefs they had wrought last night.
And see, she cried, stern envy bloom,
For many a woe and wrong to come;
Swift the friend of lovers flies,
To steal the baneful cherish'd prize;
But this fair Hebe did not see,
Or would she ask an elegy?
PERSON
and mind, we must confess,
Receive from polish and from dress
A charm to point the native grace,
The virtuous heart, the beauteous face;
But faults in each, refuse their aid,
And more adorn'd are more display'd;
Can polish'd vice the good engage?
A viper in a gilded cage!
'Twas thus the tender parent thought,
When his adorning gifts he brought;
My child, he said, my Rosaline,
*
And all the father beam'd divine,
Benignant May now cheers the earth,
And this day twelve years was thy birth;
May it be mine this day to bring,
Important treasures to thy spring.
And thy lost mother to restore,
Give thee the ornaments she wore;
For these, while here we were allied,
With love and me were all her pride.
Evander then in accents mild,
Thus with his gifts address'd his child.
My sweetest Rose, attention pay,
And fix thy thoughts on what I say;
If these from you no worth receive,
How vainly does my fondness give.
For here, the wise no value trace,
Till these are joined by kindred grace;
And first, he said, my Rosaline,
This OZIER WAND
'S
by nature thine,
Alas! it was in Eden broke,
Evander sighing as he spoke;
The giver there how much forgot,
Ordained it your peculiar lot;
Whene'er it bends to just command,
See, how it blooms beneath the hand;
Keep it my child, with care thro' life,
It suits the daughter and the wife,
And tho' it marks no present sway,
To rising honours leads the way;
'Tis planted first in wisdom's school,
And leads the mighty to their rule.
A VEIL
he next display'd to view,
Edg'd with PEARLS
of blooming hue;
He thus proceeded, these you see,
Wear the sweet blush of MODESTY
;
When thus drawn forth, compell'd to shew,
Mark how trembling is the glow;
This serves you in a double sense,
An ornament and a defence;
Its timid lustre can unfold,
A sacred charm to awe the bold;
Give every beauty softer grace,
And add ideal loveliness,
The beauteous ensign of your fame,
And woman's glory is its name;
Again he paus'd to view his child,
With timid look, she blushing smil'd.
A brilliant WATCH
the next he brought,
It's chain with many an emblem wrought;
The cock, prime herald of the dawn,
The loaded bee, from flowery lawn.
Silkworms and spiders at their looms,
And ants that hoard ere winter comes;
Its worth admiring, as he viewed,
His theme Evander thus pursued,
My Rose, 'till time shall pass away,
Be this the emblem of thy day;
With this pursue thy steady course,
'Tis action gives to virtue force,
Loitering, you as this machine,
Some spring to good have wrong within;
Winding up this splendid toy,
On yourself your thoughts employ,
And since life here, to you was given,
To fit you for a life in heaven;
Ask with every setting sun,
What for heaven has Rosaline done?
The gift that courted next her sight,
Was a clear ROBE
, of SPOTLESS WHITE
;
The father said, my Rosaline,
This, with its kindred grace be thine,
By all the good and wise confest,
The pride of virtue and of taste;
Free as the air, open as day,
Children this beauteous robe display.
And thence, the prince of love and peace,
Declares, of such my kingdom is;
Much merit should this gift impart,
And, all its wearers shew the heart;
It is the dress which angels wear,
And thought their purest emblem here;
Evander ceased, rejoiced to see,
His child possess SIMPLICITY
.
A TURBAN
to adorn the HEAD
,
Was the rich present next display'd;
Gems from every country brought,
Work which every age had wrought;
There arts and science spread their store,
In brilliant types, from every shore;
And as its value stood confest,
Evander thus his thoughts exprest,
This gift a value must possess,
Too rich, some think, for female dress;
Its worth to know exceeds your powers,
And nature meant it only ours;
Whoe'er these narrow claims have spread,
But little of themselves have said;
Little discernment have they shown,
Who have your worth so little known.
How can their rugged bosoms prove,
Exalted friendship, tender love.
By no such vanity beguil'd,
I give it thee my darling child,
Tho' in itself a boundless store,
With caution let it still be wore.
On you, it was not meant for show,
Tho' there be those who wear it so,
From all conceit, still wear it free,
Beneath the veil of modesty.
A conscious joy the father took,
From Rosaline's inquiring look,
And as his last best gift he draws,
He views it with a solemn pause,
Conceal'd the moisture of his eye,
And half suppress'd the rising sigh,
Assum'd composure ere he spoke,
And thus his tender silence broke,
Thou dearest object of my cares,
Accept the gifts my love prepares,
But vain the value of the rest,
If this, the chief, be not carest;
Then, thro' this CRYSTAL
every day,
My presents carefully survey,
Thro' this, inspect my gifts of love,
How they decay, or they improve,
To what the wise shall recommend,
If fitly, meek OBEDIENCE
bend,
This will a gentle firmness show,
To dignify the MODEST
glow;
Display your best pursuits, and thence,
Incite to active DILIGENCE
,
And by a conscience free from harm,
Show INNOCENCY
'S
open charm,
Extending every virtue's sphere,
You see the worth of KNOWLEDGE
here;
Tis thus the wise, with steady eye,
Their morals by RELIGION
try,
And if with these thro' life you move,
Our joys our virtues you improve,
With fond attentions, ceaseless cares,
Tis woman guards our infant years;
Her kind compassions sooth in death,
And she receives our parting breath.
THAT
fortune's fickle, beauty frail,
Has been the theme of many a tale,
And solemn bards, with soaring eye,
Have traced our passage to the sky.
That earthly honours quickly pass,
That life's a dream, and flesh is grass,
Are truths the preacher would impart,
In melting lessons to the heart,
And, if on beauty, wealth, or fame,
You dare to build a haughty claim,
The moralist again would try,
To wean your hearts from vanity.
Attend, ye beauties of a day,
For you I dress my moral lay,
You, who to wealth or fame aspire,
For you I tune my willing lyre.
There lived a maid, Eliza named,
Who was for nothing very famed,
With beauty she was never blest,
And this her sex can well attest,
To fortune she as little owed,
A circumstance well understood,
All her pretensions, all her aim,
Was to deserve an honest name;
With modesty to live retired,
And leave the gay to be admired,
A shepherd, skill'd in flattery's lore,
However, sent some verses to her,
He prais'd her for ideal graces,
And wrong he was in many places,
Tho' wrong, she knew he meant no evil,
And thought he was exceeding civil,
She told him, as in duty bound,
She wish'd he were with laurel crown'd;
A nymph there was of lovely mien,
Who lived at that time on the green,
No fitter subject for his muse,
The poet sure could ever chuse;
And ready for his similies,
The earth and sky before him lies;
To him the garden yields its pride,
The mine its treasures cannot hide,
And little brooks, and mighty seas,
He pilfers with the greatest ease,
Oh! for the magic of his art,
To sooth the weakness of the heart;
And on the sunbeam of an eye,
To rise to immortality;
My humbler muse, alone must tell,
I knew the nymph and lov'd her well,
Much merit she might justly claim,
And Hannah was the fair one's name;
As cheerfully they pass'd the day,
Together oft these nymphs would stray,
And once a laurel they espy'd,
Which rais'd its head with conscious pride;
The tree a little garden graced,
And by a lowly cot was placed,
They pitied that Apollo's care,
Should waste its classic honours there,
The thought to flattering Colin led,
How much its leaves would grace his head,
Equally pleas'd with the intent,
They instant to the cottage went,
The dame, for whom the laurel grew,
No Daphne or Apollo knew,
The ladies spoke her very fair,
Told her they saw a laurel there,
If she could such a favor grant,
Some of it's leaves they soon should want;
The dame replied, they were too good,
On such a trifle to have stood,
But near the road, and low the wall,
They might, for her, have ta'en them all;
It was a tree she had no good in,
Except indeed to mend a pudding,
And then in winter it was green,
A time one valued such a thing,
But they were welcome to a part,
Of her tree's leaves, with all her heart.
With skilful hands, fair Hannah weaves,
Apollo's consecrated leaves,
Nor e'er before or since was seen,
So gay a garland on that green,
Its waving circles gaily play'd,
To crown the favour'd poet's head.
A sylph, who trod the rural scene,
In haste convey'd it o'er the green;
The yielding doors soon open flew,
And full she shone on Colin's view;
He hail'd her as a nymph divine,
She him a favourite of the Nine,
The prize of wit she then display'd,
Wishing to see it on his head.
His head--his dinner scarce begun,
On honour--less than eating run,
It is a truth the shepherd owns,
He thought of salads more than crowns:
But such a slight soon to repair,
He view'd it with attentive care,
And on its leaves he found a note,
Which simply thus the ladies wrote.
'Let gold and gems, a pond'rous weight,
'Surround the care-worn brow of state,
'And may the mournful yew be spread,
'O'er the cold ashes of the dead.
'While the gay rose and myrtle twin'd,
'The happy lover's temples bind.
'But may the head of sad despair,
'A wreathe of drooping willow wear.
'While still at friendship's sacred shrine,
'The vine should round the elm entwine.
'But when a poet we have found,
'With laurel shall the bard be crown'd.'
'Twas with surprize the damsels learn'd,
The shepherd had the crown return'd.
He said Eliza ought to wear it,
Nor would he e'en pretend to share it.
Well pleas'd she kept the gilded crown,
By flattery more beauteous grown.
A vision now I introduce,
Is aught denied the poet's use?
But ladies, that it need not fright,
It is no imp that shuns the light,
Or haunts the mansions of the dead,
From them it is for ever fled,
Its being rose when earth began,
And ends but with the race of man;
Its silent path was swiftly trod,
And many victims strew'd its road,
Its hands a scythe and hourglass bore,
To mark its progress and its pow'r,
It touch'd the crown, which own'd its stroke,
While thus to reason's ear it spoke.--
'A boundless conqueror am I,
'Nor boast of partial victory;
'I take this trifling toy from you,
'And mighty empires I subdue.
Her faded crown Eliza view'd,
And thus the moral thought pursued--
Faded trifle, passing jest,
Mimic pageant of a day,
No more for laurels we'll contest,
Prizes which time shall bear away.
VIRTUE
and prudence
once agreed,
In Hymen's bands their lives to lead;
Their offspring daughters prov'd to be,
Appearance and Reality.
In mutual harmony they grew,
And equal joy their parents knew;
With looks serene and accent mild,
Virtue address'd her eldest child.
A parent's heart can only know,
The joys that in my bosom glow;
When I behold my first-born care,
So more than all my wishes fair.
The rose which paints thy beauteous cheek,
The snow that whitens o'er thy neck,
The gems which sparkle in thine eyes,
Fill all my soul with fond surprize,
Not only in myself I rest,
Appearance
joins to make me blest.
Thy beauties every heart can warm,
And virtue thro' thy means must charm.
But oh my daughter! hear my voice,
Thy sister's worth be still thy choice,
And boast no charm, whate'er it be,
Forgetful of Reality.
Her merits to the world display,
While she secures thy bounded sway.
Prudence his anxious fears confess'd,
And thus his fav'rite charge address'd,
My darling child! in thee I find,
Thy mother's graces all combin'd,
Each feature of her lovely face,
With fond delight in thee I trace.
But let my daughter now attend,
And hear the counsels of her friend.
Tho' solid worth be all thy own,
Appearance
best can make it known.
Her varied graces all admire,
Appearance
every breast can fire,
Give her a place within thy heart,
And all thy worth she shall impart.
Thus hand in hand the sisters went,
And fill'd their parents with content.
Reality's
more solid worth,
Appearance
studied to set forth.
While she secured her sister's claim,
And gave Appearance
spotless fame.
Their tender love soon care beguil'd,
Till virtue left her darling child,
Appearance
then with forward mien,
Before her sister still was seen,
Unbounded lures around she spread,
Nor ever for her sister staid.
And such her soft attractive grace,
In every heart she found a place;
Not long deceiv'd the wise could be,
They found she'd left Reality.
And soon the subjects of her reign,
Were but the thoughtless and the vain.
'Twas with contempt her sister saw,
The servile herd about her draw,
And when her father's head was laid,
She scorn'd to sue to her for aid,
But conscious of her native worth,
Without Appearance
ventur'd forth.
Vainly she seeks to find a friend,
Her hidden merits none commend,
Without Appearance
few would see
The merits of Reality
.
Their error now the sisters find,
Experience shows their interest join'd,
Virtue
and Prudence
must delight,
To see their offspring still unite.
The writer of this poem wishes first to consider adverse situations in that point of view, wherein they are productive of invention, the mistress of all the mechanic powers; and in the second place to point out how far the heart may be improved, and the understanding enlarged, by a patient submission to those trials which it may be our lot to experience.
TO
thee the fatal Urn*
was given,
Dispenser of the wrath of heaven,
Sad treasurer of human woe!
Sparing the dire contents bestow,
Nor suddenly thy terrors pour,
O'erwhelming in th' unguarded hour.
'Till of thy clouded gifts we learn,
Th' intrinsic value to discern:
Our joy from sorrow to procure,
And rise from ardent trials pure.
Where pleasure with her festive train,
Had shone with bright but transient reign,
By sad reverse was quickly seen,
A matron of a sordid mien.
For sofas soft--with velvet spread,
Her seats were on the broken reed;
For pearls--which golden robes adorn,
For gems--which bid the gazer turn,
Her mournful garments now display,
The veil which shades the absent day.
For melting sounds, 'twas joy to hear,
When dying on the list'ning ear,
Harsh discords still to her belong,
And hoarse the raven screams his song.
Where myrtle's fragrance did exhale,
And roses more perfum'd the gale.
The drooping willow there she view'd,
And life-destroying upas*
strew'd.
To sum the whole of earthly grace,
Where shone the mind illumin'd face,
And as the animating soul,
Gave vital vigour to the whole.
Her looks for fear alone were made,
And horror in deep furrows laid,
Where gay amusements used to cheer,
Her's were to human thought severe.
Nor costly viands suit her need,
On human tears compell'd to feed.
A fatal change her presence wrought,
And gardens into desarts brought.
The pumice stone oft mark'd her road,
And verdure faded where she trod.
Full many a child this matron bore,
And train'd them to her rugged lore,
Ruthless--her bosom could forego,
The tenderness that mothers show,
Tho' wayward tempers should misuse,
The fond caress they best can use.
By terrors only skill'd to rule,
Remorseless was her rigid school.
And yet, beneath her rugged care,
Arose a train of daughters fair,
For heaven their souls she well refin'd,
Or sent them forth to bless mankind.
'Twas soon her joy, if joy e'er came,
To train her first to deeds of fame.
Teach her aspiring eye to soar,
And give her arm unequall'd power;
And by the woes she made her feel,
Remov'd each dread of other ill.
Her massy weapons high she'd wield,
And teach how hardest rocks must yield:
They bear the print of many a wound,
And distant far her strokes resound,
Their strokes so deep, to echo tell,
Who trembling! counts them in her cell.
And thus she said, and sternly frown'd,
Resistless I am ever found,
Heir of my fortune! yield to fate,
I shall instruct thee to be great,
Unaw'd by threats, unchang'd by woes.
Superior still the damsel rose,
Aiming her parent to delight,
She robed herself in purest white.
All vain her fury to disarm,
For what can rugged natures charm:
And soon to urge her daughter's fate,
She led her thro' her gloomy state.
Her barren desarts first she show'd,
From these she said receive thy food.
Vainly were her intreaties made,
To guard her there her mother staid,
She turn'd her piercing eye around,
To view th' inhospitable ground.
Yet in extremity of woe,
Despair she still disdain'd to know.
At length, to meet her searching eyes,
A bended wand, well pleas'd she spies,
She seized it with presaging smile,
And oft she turn'd the barren soil;
Which as she turn'd, all fair to view,
A nymph her quick attention drew;
The golden sheaves which harvest spread,
Composed a garland for her head.
She in her hand a basket bore,
With many a plant, and seed, and flow'r,
And as a cheering look she throws,
A tree all fresh and blooming rose,
And its gay branches to entwine,
Luxuriant wound the curling vine.
This crown she said, by Ceres wrought,
To thee undaunted maid I've brought.
Vertumnus and Pomona join,
To hail thee too, with gifts divine.
Nature shall at thy touch revive,
And Flora's beauteous offspring live.
Thee I attend, aspiring maid,
To strew these gifts where thou shalt lead.
And soon a fresher verdure rose,
And soon the golden harvest glows;
Thro' fertile vallies rivers glide,
And foliage cloaths the mountain's side,
Sweet herbage decks the fragrant field,
And orchards all their treasures yield.
Tho' in her own created ground,
No gentler was her mother found;
Think not she said to rest thee here,
Thy glory must be purchased dear,
Then cleave for me that rugged oak,
And learn to move yon solid rock;
Prepare thee for this wond'rous deed,
By me compell'd, thou must succeed.
Full oft she views her task severe,
With anxious thought, attentive care.
In silence bids her active mind,
Assistance for her trials find.
And many a thought repulsed again,
By many an effort weak and vain;
Could not subdue th' aspiring aim,
To add these glories to her name;
Till half refin'd from earthly mold,
Her mind illumin'd, could behold
The pow'r who with the gifts of gods,
Descends to comfort man's abodes.
Slow she trod the earth she bless'd,
Her silver locks a circle press'd;
As she majestic took her way,
These words she said, or seem'd to say:
As light of day and midnight oil,
Witness'd thy unremitting toil,
To thy extended mind is giv'n
The choicest blessings under heav'n;
Reward of many an anxious hour,
Receive these gifts, and try their pow'r,
Now cleave the oak and raise the rock,
And earth's deep storehouses unlock.
The damsel saw with eager eyes,
Their wonder working power she tries.
To shew her deeds, the time would fail,
Volumes could scarcely tell the tale;
How all the treasures earth had stor'd,
She for the use of man explor'd,
And suiting to his wants applied,
And o'er the ocean was his guide;
Thro' her the weak the strong restrain,
And to their use the mighty train;
As mistress of each useful art,
She rose endear'd to ev'ry heart;
Nor here her mother seal'd her worth,
But more accomplish'd sent her forth,
And to the useful, taught to join
All that could polish and refine,
Delight the eye, enchant the ear,
And steal the spirit from its care.
Thus from a rigid parent soars,
A daughter whom the world adores,
Counting the trials she has foil'd,
All hate the mother, love the child.
ADVERSITY
! if e'er thy dart,
With poignant sting has touch'd my heart,
If, sick'ning to my mortal taste,
Thy cup to me has ever past;
Oh may thy wounds with soundness heal,
Thy bitter draughts with vigour fill;
That so unblamed I now may trace,
The brightest daughter of thy race;
Thy second lovely to be seen,
Of tend'rest heart and mildest mein,
With each engaging grace her own,
Ne'er charm'd away her mother's frown.
Who ever, strange as it appears,
Seem'd most delighted with her tears;
Yet skill'd to torture, joy she show'd,
And mock'd her with delusive good.
Of me severe, the offspring mild,
Hear me, she said, obedient child;
All fair to view, from me receive,
The portion I deceitful give;
Smiling malignant as she rose,
There if thou can'st, she said, repose.
Then on with sullen step she leads,
The path her child obedient treads;
Possess, she said, by my command,
Fit scenes for a correcting hand,
Whose prospect now delights thine eyes,
The fairy land of promises;
Where my gay sister keeps her court,
Where all the willing world resort,
To taste the bounties of her store,
Which few enjoy but all adore.
Her dangerous gifts let VIRTUE
fear,
And still remember I am near.
New charms still nearer views display'd,
As onward goes the artless-maid;
Each flatt'ring scene subdued its part,
And shared the feelings of her heart,
And now the form appear'd in view,
Whose charms surrounding vot'ries drew.
With brilliance dress'd, with fragrance crown'd,
And hands that spread her favours round.
As from an urn, all to delight,
She drew her treasures infinite.
Whate'er employ'd a mortal care,
All that inspir'd a hope was there.
Health's vital vigour nerv'd the strong,
Pleasure's soft charms allur'd the young,
She honour's purple robe bequeaths,
And blind ambition's random wreathes;
Grandeur to vacant pride affords,
And fills the grasping miser's hoards:
She pomgranates and myrtles joins,
And loves perennial bands entwines;
Beauty was there--the world to charm,
And wit--that could the wise disarm:
And gratitude, and perfum'd praise,
That gifts enhance, and merits raise.
She flatt'ry's honey'd poison draws,
To swell the vain, with false applause.
She friendship's purest flame could light,
And there the vine and elm unite.
The urn, the nymph with transport views,
And meekly to the goddess sues:
Pity she said my state forlorn,
To hatred of my parent born;
Me rescue from a doom so hard,
And from that parent be my guard.
A languid look the goddess gave,
Again she pleads her pow'r to save,
While prostrate she that pow'r ador'd,
She humbly thus her gifts implor'd.
I pour not here my humble pray'r,
For joy which takes no tint of care;
For more myself to know,
Goddess, perhaps thy gifts bestow'd,
To me were the securer good,
Chasten'd by shades of woe.
Yet smooth my rugged parent's frown,
Her thorns, oh may thy roses crown;
Thy light, her shades among,
With vernal hope rise ever new,
While timid fear of changing hue,
Warns my approach to wrong.
Bestow thine aromatic wreathe,
While here the vital air I breathe,
With health my temples bind,
If there should mix some faded leaves,
For transient pain my bosom grieves,
Shall joy be more refin'd.
Now meek contentment's olives bring,
Let cheerfulness her rubies fling,
Upon my sighing breast.
With syren song, and transient rose,
By giddy youth be pleasure chose,
Repented when possest.
May blind ambition's random crown,
Be on disorder'd passion thrown,
Which aims some airy height,
But honour's purple robe bestow,
Whose guiltless smile, and open brow,
Shall more than fame delight.
Of gold I ask no mighty store,
I shrink from fortune's dangerous pow'r,
Yet oh, that share impart;
Which leaves a little to bestow,
To ease some want of sighing woe,
Raise, not corrupt my heart.
The passion and the tender care,
While wealth and beauty amply share,
Be mine the safer helm;
Of friendship at whose hallowed shrine,
Oh goddess! now for me entwine
The vine around the elm.
Sincerity, of heart so pure,
With confidence that rests secure,
And faith's unbroken seal;
Solicitude so swift to serve,
With constancy that cannot swerve,
Her presence shall reveal.
Her pray'r to hear the goddess seems,
And smiles her into golden dreams,
And health's fresh rose and balmy wreathes,
The goddess freely now bequeathes.
But soon her mother touch'd the crown,
All its salubrious sweets are flown:
Hemlock and deadly nightshade now,
Compose a garland for her brow;
And ev'ry boon the goddess gives,
Her mother blasts as she receives.
And now she frown'd upon her view,
Nor more the nymph could joy pursue.
No more, she said, my sister seek,
In gifts revers'd 'tis I who speak,
Now tainting health's salubrious gale,
I bring disease, and thou art pale;
But ask thy heart, and it shall tell,
What blessings may with sickness dwell;
It early calms all anxious strife,
For the frail vanities of life;
The brittle tenure of thy days,
It marks, and wisdom guides thy ways.
Another's pain to thee reveals,
And all thy soften'd bosom feels.
I wave with scorn the peacock's plumes,
And honour's purple robe consumes,
From slander's tongue, and pride's parade,
Receive a grace which cannot fade;
Slander and scorn themselves deceive,
Then nobly pity and forgive;
Thine innocence thy breast shall calm,
And crown thee with thy native palm;
I by injustice turn the scales,
And thy expected treasure fails;
But inward turn and there explore,
Resources unperceiv'd before,
What prosp'rous days awhile conceal'd,
Adversity has oft reveal'd;
As stars, obscured by dazzling light,
Adorn the sable brow of night;
For gratitude so rich in store
To make the benefactors poor;
I overpow'ring ivy bring,
And the embosom'd adder's sting.
If what thy bounty could impart
Flow'd from the feelings of thy heart,
The joys thy kind intentions earn,
Arise above a base return;
For praise which merit might enhance,
I bring thee envy's bas'lisk glance;
And for the concord of the heart,
Point enmity's keen forked dart;
The dying fern and choaking reed,
To love's perennial bands succeed.
The vine shall bind the elm no more,
Nor friend protect, nor love adore.
These bitter dregs, now drain my bowl,
And purify thy spotless soul.
Of me severe, the offspring mild,
I give the world my darling child,
Above all theory of speech,
To live the lessons others teach;
Her presence solitude shall cheer,
And ev'ry public bliss endear;
With equal fortitude shall own,
A martyr's, or a monarch's crown.
Tho' many were the numbers more,
Of children whom this matron bore,
Than these among the shining race,
None more exalted could we trace;
Their hearts to soften, minds enlarge,
Was her severe and fav'rite charge.
PAINTER
exert thy utmost art,
To shew the fav'rite of my heart;
Roses and lilies thou may'st spare,
Chloe can please, yet is not fair;
Thy Venus may the world admire,
It is to Chloe I aspire;
One added grace should'st thou display,
My Chloe's charms would fade away;
Let nature on thy canvass shine;
It is my Chloe! 'tis divine!
Be Chloe's mind the poet's theme,
No fancied merits let him dream;
O'er fair perfection should he rove,
It is a mortal that I love;
Yet goodness in my Nymph I see,
Or Chloe had no charms for me:
Let truth and nature teach his tongue,
And artless Chloe grace his song.
He sings her generous and sincere,
And there my Chloe must appear.
A sister's merits she'll commend;
My Chloe too, can be a friend,
All gay and lively tho' she be,
Can melt in tenderest sympathy.
See truth and nature grace each line,
It is my Chloe! 'tis divine!
THO
' faintly shines this winter's sun,
And short his visits be,
He warms my heart, for oft I hope,
He shines on you and me.
The moon too, beauteous queen of night,
Enraptur'd still I see;
For sure I think her rays serene,
Are seen by you and me.
And gaily burns our rural fire,
And happy should I be,
But cold's my heart, there wants a charm,
It warms not you and me.
And fiercely blows this cold north wind,
For ruffian blasts has he;
But bitterer far that zephyr's breeze,
Which parted you and me.
BASKING
thus in fortune's way,
Would you leave so bright a day?
See the captive lover wait,
Must you die to seal his fate?
Hark! the poet tunes his lyre,
Cruel! would you damp his fire?
Balmy zephyrs court your breath,
Not the bitter blasts of death:
Bright in youth and beauty's charms,
Do you seek his icy arms?
Oh must friendship plead in vain,
Can you give so keen a pain?
Once, as ancient stories tell,
Music prov'd its pow'r in hell;
Music in the hand of love,
E'en the ear of death could move,
And its adamantine chains
Melted at harmonious strains.
Live, and bloom in fortune's ray,
While she gives so bright a day.
Live, and be the poet's theme,
Feed the rapture of his dream;
Let a friendship most refin'd,
Beam its comforts on your mind;
Softer than a western breeze,
It shall breathe to give you ease,
All affection can inspire,
Apollo's wit and Orpheus' lyre.
SINCE
Colin appear'd on our plains,
Our village is happy and gay;
His presence enlivens the year,
And winter is pleasing as May.
Tho' he lives the delight of the fair,
No envy their bosoms alarms;
His good-nature so flatters them all,
Each maid thinks him won by her charms.
But I, tho' so friendless and poor,
He says am the choice of his heart;
And sure I shall trust in a swain,
Who never descended to art.
I speak of the belles of the town,
I tell him how handsome they be;
But merit the shepherd admires,
And he fancies he finds it in me.
How much then to Colin I owe,
Each action of life shall impart;
While it speaks in the glance of my eye,
It shall live in the wish of my heart.
I'll rise with the break of the dawn,
And neat shall our cottage be seen,
In Summer, how fragrant and gay,
In Winter, so warm and so clean.
THE
wing'd inhabitant of air,
Thro' nature freely roves,
And his harmonious notes proclaim,
'Tis liberty he loves.
Till doom'd by some relentless hand,
To share a pris'ner's fate,
He flutters round his narrow cell,
And pecks his iron grate.
Vainly he tries his plaintive notes,
And struggles to be free;
Till wearied nature bids him yield
To sad necessity.
Soon in his little cage he finds
What nature gave before,
And banish'd from his safe retreat,
'Twere liberty no more.
When thus Belinda you had fixed
Gay Strephon in your chains,
You doubtless thought your captive swain,
A conquest worth your pains.
Free as the feather'd songster once,
He tells you with a sigh,
That life and freedom's in your chains,
But death in liberty.
IN
loves soft empire, beauty boasts to reign;
Yet beauty's queen once mourn'd her empire vain,
Unmoved by scorn, her undiminish'd truth,
Changed into this gay flower the breathless youth,
The worth of constant woman still to raise,
So tell the fabled tales of ancient days.
The fair Narcissus oft your favour tried,
And oft you threw the scented fop aside;
Here native beauty, vivid colours glow,
Your present vot'ry is no perfum'd beau;
His honour'd station be a lady's breast,
His charter held, from what he once possess'd.
WHEN
April turns his wat'ry eye,
That stain'd his infant cheek with tears,
And beneath a golden sky,
The blooming May appears;
Waked by the tears which April shed,
Gay Flora leaves her sleeping bed,
And calls her beauteous train,
To hail a scene, so sweet, so fair,
Each artless warbler fills the air
With an enchanting strain.
Sad Philomela's mournful songs,
Chaste Cynthia's silver beams invite,
Melodiously to speak her wrongs,
To the pale shades of night.
While the shrill lark salutes the morn,
And hails the God of Day's return,
With many a sprightly lay;
Gay flowers present their fragrant bloom,
Mild zephyrs catch the rich perfume,
To scent the op'ning day.
Not the sweet warblers of the grove,
Nor the shrill lark's exalted strain;
Hail more pleased the scenes they love,
More welcome Flora's train,
Than I, when health her roses shed,
Upon Amanda's drooping head,
And rais'd her languid frame;
Would bid my Muse, her transports show,
And paint the sympathetic glow,
Inspired by friendship's name.
Not flowers more freely spread their bloom,
More freely their rich fragrance bring,
The gentle zephyr to perfume,
And deck the lap of Spring,
Than would I now cull ev'ry sweet,
Hygeia's lovely form to greet,
And bless that healing pow'r,
Who opens on Amanda's sight,
Rejoicing friends, renew'd delight,
Led by each golden hour.
Far gayer garlands I had wove,
AH
me! then is Philida gone?
Stern death counts the Virtues his foes,
I'll wander by moon-shine along,
And near it I'll pensively stray,
The west breeze I hear softly blow,
She is gone! in friendship and love,
WHERE
heavenly precept bright example taught,
OBEDIENT
to th' omnipotent command,
Meanly content or arrogantly bold,
In days remote, and in a distant clime,
Philario's sons his anxious cares divide,
Love still more fearful, as it more endears,
The loves and graces smil'd on Philo's morn,
He said for misery God no being gave,
The fair perfections which his brother own'd,
Such were the sons who won each tender part,
Pity he said, and hear me reverend sage,
Philario leaves the sage with thanks exprest,
The sage's message to his sons he broke,
Ascanius hopes to hear by him defin'd,
Each thinks Alcestes as himself believes,
'Twas when the virgin yields her brilliant sway,
Thus pleas'd they leave their parent and their home,
Alcestes now advances to their view,
Serene as eve, as autumn rich to bless,
Philario's sons with admiration fraught,
Their hearts, late nature's lovely scenes expand,
The others leave it, and with wand'ring feet,
The longest day in night must die,
Herman had fourscore winters past,
Yet ere his spirit took its leave
His children dear approach his couch;
The parting stroke, were death no strife,
Yet, ere my latest sand is shed,
May filial duty, from this bed,
No well fill'd coffers you'll receive,
And sure it was my anxious care,
As thro' the wilderness no more
And now they clasp his clammy hands,
'Tis well he said, the pow'r is good,
Thus Herman breath'd his last adieu,
His children dear, with honours meet,
Hail holy hermit! oft they cry,
Oh! mark us out the safest way
With pious hands his mortal part,
His dying and his strict command,
When we implore thy guiding hand,
The hermit rais'd them from the ground,
For well of all the hermit knew,
Far as my faithful word may guide,
He took them to his simple cell,
And then around each neck he threw,
Tho' small in size, of countless worth,
Sons of my friend! I hold you dear,
And now he takes them to the grove,
Beyond he says your country lies,
Tho' narrow, and too little trod,
They were not wrought by mortal hand,
These lights two different views command,
By each your way be ever known,
The last from specious snares shall warn,
I mark impatience in each eye,
Yet for a moment I detain,
While mindful of their destin'd use,
But with such sacred art combin'd,
Well, Herman's sons observe my words,
And much he grieved their thoughtless haste,
Till sight could them no more disclose,
Together yet their pilgrim feet,
And bitterly I trust was rued,
Pernicious counsels to intrude,
This present from our friend, he says,
To some it were a potent spell;
Then this he said, and touch'd the spring,
And potent were those words to lose,
Ah! charm no more, the anchor fails,
In conscious virtue all elate,
He yet a while the path pursues,
Such snares and dangers yet he tried,
As o'er the youth his gentle nature yearns,
Sovereign by shewing to the traveller's eye,
For now, adapted to his mind,
Vainly affection prompts his stay,
The apt temptation, strong of power,
And now the giddy height he gain'd,
But ill the slippery path sustain'd,
Alass
, he dreamt of solid bliss,
Now to the painting, see him gain'd the height,
The second painting now we should explain,
His rashness, oft his brothers mourn,
Another's errors ever meet
'Twas ill the second brother said,
The other was to me no store,
Ill-fated youth! so said the sage,
Distant and faint those prospects rise,
But yet, a while he safely treads,
Nor yet ambition's glare misleads,
But ah! yon flattering scene beware,
Whether that road may guide as near,
Misguided youth! thy hopes are vain,
All vain a brother's tears may flow,
Dread pits, which sedgy verdure o'er
Careless of warning, perish'd he,
And now my youthful friends, Alcestes cries,
And now of Herman's sons so lov'd,
And well he might obtain the prize,
And now my friends, Alcestes says once more,
Observe this lamp with both its lights display'd,
Enough our honour'd friend! the brothers cry,
The glowing tints speak from that striking scene,
FADE
thy leaves thou beauteous rose,
Then take your beauty's transient power,
Can brilliant gems, can glittering ore,
How weak the pride of grandeur's sway!
Vainly alike we place our trust,
Think not my Delia beauty's charm,
Be mental worth my Delia's care,
And take, oh take! th' instructive page,
My Delia! see for noble blood,
Then at devotion's hallow'd shrine,
If prosperous scenes shall thee surround,
But, if thy tide of joys run low,
O'ER
times and seasons, days and years,
The sage may say your blooming cheek,
Your sparkling eye it's lustre lose,
Your wit, that now with potent charm,
Let sacred friendship still inspire,
Still shall the Muses hail the day,
Propitious fortune! smile this day,
And may this welcome day's return,
NOW
dark December's gloom is gone,
Let beauty wear its gayest robe,
Tho' wint'ry storms may still descend,
See from the zephyr's balmy wing,
Now dark December's gloom is gone,
HOW
blest the hours! when Celia's voice,
Ah! hours where bright content was seen,
THE
peaceful joys which virtue gives,
Ye peaceful shades! ye flowery lawns!
And ye, who trace the the blue expanse,
Then piety and friendship pure,
BUT
now--and hope to fancy's eye
Reason perhaps, with looks severe,
THE
weary traveller tired with roaming,
Heaven speed thy journey gentle stranger,
A pleasant hill now lies before thee,
But a faithful guide attending,
And her unerring glass presenting,
Vainly may pleasure seek to tempt thee,
Some, you'll observe intemperance leading,
Her crowns of poppies ease may offer,
There too sink those led by folly,
As towards the summit thou'rt ascending,
To her high lands ambition tempts thee,
Some she leads o'er seas tempestuous,
From all these foes thy guide shall save thee,
Prosperous be thy journey, stranger,
TILL
life shall cease t' inform this mould'ring clay,
IF
prosperous scenes should open on our way,
BRIGHT
queen of care beguiling smiles
Thou canst the massy gates unbar
Fortune her splendid sons displays,
In thee youth's golden dreams acquired
Come soothing power! but more serene,
No more my ardent wishes rise
GRATEFUL
to me this calm retreat,
From scenes more chang'd, as these I trace,
No more befriended by thy shade,
Ye rocks in antic forms ye rose,
Nor yon fantastic thorn beneath,
No more, regretted friends, to you,
As yonder western heights between,
Nor charms alas! delight their eyes,
Nor mirthful now they hear me say,
And there with youthful elves so gay,
Now silvering Cloghow's sable vest,
Declining autumn yields her sheaves,
As winter would each charm deform,
Tho' cares perhaps, and grief I seek,
FROM
all that hope and fear between
From where the east yon mountains crown,
For perfumed flowers now seated gay,
Her frigid hand would lose it's power,
To innocence these scenes invite,
The herd their flowery carpets share,
E'en rocks has this gay season drest,
With youthful hue my favorite free,
Phebus withdraw that potent ray,
SWEET
youth farewell! the day that gave thee birth,
But sullen grief, and anxious care;
Stole them from the hand of love,
And placed a cypress there*.
Sportive, as fancy's frolic dream,
Euphrosyne had graced my theme,
My cheerful lyre had strung;
But grief and fear oppos'd her reign,
And Philomela's pensive strain,
Must hang upon my tongue.
* The death of one friend, and dangerous illness of another.
Page [51]
ON THE
DEATH OF A FRIEND.
But now! and so blythe as they tell?
Yes, hark! her mild spirit is flown,
I hear my poor Philida's bell.
For they parry a while his fierce dart;
So he learnt where they met to repose,
And struck gentle Philida's heart.
I'll seek out some shadow retir'd,
For Philida lov'd not a throng,
Nor bustle or grandeur admir'd.
Page 52
I'll watch 'till its soft tints shall fade;
For pity I'll beg it to stay,
And think it is Philida's shade.
And my harp's sweetest chords it employs;
The sounds tho' they mournfully flow,
Sooth not like my Philida's voice.
Here no more shall I Philida see;
A span, and I too shall remove,
And happy near Philida be.
Page [53]
TO THE MEMORY OF
THE LATE REV. C---- R----.
And truths divine, a clear conviction wrought;
Aided by that persuasive eloquence,
The charm of language, and the force of sense.
When death has silenc'd that instructive speech,
Nor more that tongue important truths shall teach;
While memory's darling records she can trace,
In characters no time or change erase.
The muse her mournful tribute humbly pays,
For ever true to friends of former days:
Returning health seem'd lighting up his eye,
And rais'd his drooping friends to transient joy;
When, in behalf of injur'd Afric's claim,
To fair humanity he gave his name.
'If this, the latest act from me requir'd,
'The last is good,' he said, and--he expir'd.
So set the Christian, so his glories rise,
As summers suns descend in azure skies.
Page [54]
THE THREE LAMPS;
OR,
THE HERMIT OF THE WOOD.
Nature confess'd its mighty former's hand;
First smiling vegetation gaily rose,
Since, o'er the earth, unconscious beauty glows;
And from that heavenly spark that spread his sway,
Was kindled animation's vital ray.
By fine degrees extending still the plan,
To godlike reason, and imperial man,
Highly endow'd, the sov'reign of the whole,
Nor him the swift escape, nor strong control.
O'er earth he sits on an unquestion'd throne,
A tributary here to God alone;
Nor are his views alone to earth confin'd,
To higher views are needful aids assign'd.
Page 55
Then let not man his faith and hope withhold.
Let faith and hope imperfect virtue aid,
And finite--own what infinite has said.
Come dress me fiction for the ear of youth,
Some tale that shall impress the sacred truth.
The place and date unchronicled by time;
Alcestes lived, the wonder of his age,
His country loved and prided in the sage;
All bounteous heaven enrich'd his copious store,
With kind affections, and persuasion's pow'r,
If earth too strongly once had drawn his mind,
One early trial earth-born cares refin'd;
Sudden he lost, in pride of blooming years,
The lovely partner of his joys and cares.
His patient tears were sown with future praise,
And quench'd the sanguine hopes of following days;
He mark'd the good and ill as equal given,
A guide thro' time and death, to life and heaven;
And on a mind so temper'd, heaven bestow'd,
Its needful aids to keep his heavenly road;
Then who so fit the traveller to convey,
And guide the inexperienc'd in their way.
For them were fortune, cares, and pray'rs employ'd.
Page 56
Gave him the anxious joys of hopes and fears;
He oft their virtues and their faults would try,
And scan them with a parent's watchful eye;
As heirs of heav'n, his sons he fondly view'd,
Nor his low aim confin'd to earthly good;
Early exalting his unclouded powers,
His oldest son to learning gave his hours;
By philosophic virtue firmly arm'd,
By moral beauty was Eugenio charm'd;
Unaided by high hopes or coward fear,
All for itself to him was virtue dear;
Worthy the scale he held in nature's plan,
Approv'd by reason, and becoming man.
As toys or bugbears, children please or fright,
Rewards and punishments were motives light,
Hence in Philario's breast foreboding fears,
Hence self-dependent virtue, drew his tears.
And all the charities his soul adorn;
From generous feelings, Philo's actions move,
And all his God was form'd of peace and love;
He joy'd to hope rewards for virtue given,
But thought no stern decree could flow from heaven;
His gentle nature, stranger to offence,
Treated the vicious with benevolence;
Page 57
And e'en the guilty, mercy meant to save;
With joy his father view'd his virtues mild,
Yet would he mourn one error of his child,
That thro' his actions tho' they sweetly shone,
Those virtues sat on an unguarded throne.
With admiration soon Ascanius found;
Candid, his less attainments soon could see,
But those he guarded by humility;
His knowledge would by patient labour earn,
Nor ever deem'd himself too wise to learn;
The dread of pain and prospect of reward,
His heart accepted, as its firmest guard.
Each anxious feeling of Philario's heart,
His happiest hours were with their virtues shar'd,
Nor tender lessons to their faults he spar'd;
But habits ever strengthen in their course,
And lessons oft repeated lose their force;
That truth might be with novelty convey'd,
The careful father sought for foreign aid;
His searches met the sages high renown,
For wisdom and for virtue fully known;
To him Philario sought his doubts to paint,
And pour'd his soul in many a fond complaint;
Page 58
So heaven support thee in declining age;
Thy counsels to my need then straight display,
And aid me, far as human wisdom may;
Thy deeds are wisdom, and thy trust is God,
Then who so fit to mark a dubious road;
Three virtuous sons I have, my age's pride,
To fame on earth, and to heaven's hopes allied;
Oh! may their virtues ne'er their hearts forsake,
Nor those high hopes be lost by sad mistake,
As fares the mariners who near the shore,
Trust the false calm and count the dangers o'er,
When sad reverse, he thoughtless meets between,
The sudden tempest, and the rock unseen,
All unprovided with the means to save,
For home and safety he must meet a grave.
The means are heaven's, Alcestes gently said,
By my success be confidence repaid;
To morrow, e'er the orb serene of night,
Gives her chaste beam for Sol's departed light;
Let me receive thy treasures to my care,
The closing day I ever end with prayer;
As to high heaven events are only known,
So sanctified be mortal works begun.
And lighten'd were the cares that weigh'd his breast;
Page 59
And highly of his worth and wisdom spoke.
The youths with fond attention catch the strain,
And chide the hours that yet their steps detain.
Eugenio's fancy, in Alcestes finds,
Those equal pow'rs that charm in kindred minds,
Thinks how the depths of science they'll explore,
And to exalted heights of knowledge soar;
Or how they shall define th' unerring plan,
Which honour draws for rectitude in man.
Fix virtue in her independent sphere,
Unaided by reward or abject fear;
With warm impatience Philo's bosom glows,
To such a friend his feelings to disclose;
Revolves the joy that sympathy imparts,
When generous feelings bind congenial hearts;
And while such sympathies their hearts expand,
They shall not, marking mercy's sparing hand,
Deem punishment annex'd to man's offence,
But clasp the scheme of wide benevolence.
Heaven's mercy with its justice how combin'd;
Those high rewards that meet the happy saint,
The joys of heaven, he longs to hear him paint;
Potent, the strong temptation to defeat,
Speak the dire scenes th' impenitent await;
Page 60
And thus the intermediate time deceives.
And temper'd seasons smile in equal day,
Philario's sons, by youthful ardor bent,
To greet Alcestes' mansion joyful went.
In youth's gay season, when few cares annoy,
Alive to present and to future joy,
Imagination aids each scene to warm,
And paints each beauty with a heighten'd charm;
More gay to them, reviving spring is seen,
More fresh, the verdure of its tender green;
More richly wafts the fragrance of the air,
Unclouded dawns the promise of their year,
More sweet, the season crown'd with Flora's rose.
Where ripen'd beauty summer's suns disclose;
Where splendor, fragrance, and soft harmony,
Meet health's full sense and fancy's vivid eye;
So, to the youths now more majestic shone,
Illustrious autumn, on her golden throne,
Queen of the year, they see her now display,
The gifts which tributary seasons pay;
The blushing orchard, and the waving corn,
Beneath her painted skies her reign adorn;
Nor lost to them, her colours now expand,
As her rich tints display her changing hand.
Page 61
And now most pleas'd they see Alcestes' dome.
Midway, adown a mountain's woody side,
The mansion rose in venerable pride;
Midst rocks and groves it rose in stately show,
And seem'd the sovereign of the vale below;
Where the gay scenes that struck the wond'ring eye,
Seem'd empires of each rural deity;
Her golden banners Ceres there display'd,
And Flora's lovely children paint the mead;
Pomona o'er the hedgerow spreads her blush,
And with rich purple decks the lowly bush;
Amidst tall firs, and solemn-seeming yew,
The village church, there steals upon the view;
As just emerging from surrounding shade,
It gives a decent order to the glade.
Hills rise on hills, to lead th' extended eye,
Till with its kindred blue, they mix in sky.
Its streams collecting, gathering still new force,
Between, a river takes its rapid course;
A careful debtor, and a subject free,
Hast'ning its willing waters to the sea.
From scenes like these their soften'd hearts imbibe,
What most have felt, but few can well describe.
Whom the appointed time to meet them drew;
Page 62
He seem'd the genius of his native place;
With hasten'd step, Philario's sons he meets,
And thus in accents mild their coming greets,
Welcome young friends, your presence pleases more,
As thus observant of an old man's hour,
For faith and truth Philario's sons be known,
Tho' youth to folly and neglect is prone,
Our course of friendship shall be safely trod,
Hope marks the end, when we begin with God;
From dignity serene, and mild benevolence,
These words mix awe with gentle confidence.
He leads them thro' the winding of the wood,
To where the chapel of the mansion stood,
In decent order all the household there,
Attend the blessing of their master's pray'r,
And there th' observance of the world they shun,
Thus ev'ry day was closed, and morn begun;
No warm disputes, or lectures oft as vain,
Employ the hours of eve that yet remain,
But thro' the harmless jest, or story's course,
Instruction lost its name, but took its force.
An humbler notion of themselves are taught,
Their recollected vanity regret,
And view their wisdom as a counterfeit;
Page 63
And now they own a master's skilful hand;
Freeing from blind opinion to receive,
Th' important lesson which he wish'd to give;
Dressing his purpose in a pleasing view,
Which they as entertainment only knew;
Long as delightless, linger joyless years,
Swift fly th' aspiring moments friendship shares;
As high in wisdom and refin'd in taste,
All seem'd a wonder that the sage possest;
Nor aught escaped them as they took their way,
Passing along to where their chambers lay.
And now, as still prepared for new delight,
A gallery stored with pictures struck their sight,
There many a sage and patriot appear'd,
Who blest in life, and were in death rever'd,
Not those whose dubious worth high fortune crown'd,
But whom unquestion'd merit had renown'd;
Amongst the many which they wond'ring saw,
Three more than all their fix'd attention draw,
The painter's zeal his magic hand obey'd,
And almost life and breath his forms display'd,
One narrow path to a bright mansion led,
Along the landscape, o'er the canvass spread;
Three figures pass it with a different fate,
And draw our admiration and regret;
While one with steady eye surveys the ground,
Keeps firm the path, and is with honour crown'd,
Page 64
Tho' they approach to bliss, destruction meet;
These pictures long their curious eyes detain,
And much they wish their meaning to explain,
Why the same landscape o'er the three are spread,
And whence the different figures there display'd;
At early matins they with joy attend,
And anxious wait the coming of their friend,
Hearts open to his counsels they prepare,
And join him in devotion's ardent prayer;
The cow bestows them her salubrious treat,
And bread and fruits their wholesome meal compleat,
Enraptur'd of the pictures now they speak,
And for their meaning to Alcestes seek;
Oh deign, they said, the mystery to relate,
And why those figures meet such different fate;
Then to the gallery straight their host they lead,
And point the pieces which they wish to read;
Alcestes view'd them with a wishful eye,
And ere he spoke, he heav'd a feeling sigh;
'Tis there, he said, enraptured with the theme,
The painter gives to sight the poet's dream,
For him entwines a never fading wreath,
And almost bids his airy phantoms breathe;
Nor to the painter give we all the praise,
But now attend to what the legend says;
This said, a scroll of parchment next he shews,
And thus proceeds its legend to disclose;
Page 65
LEGEND.
And winter ends the year:
And so to contemplation's eye,
Must human life appear.
His latest thread was spun:
Of many days he liv'd his last,
And view'd life's setting sun.
Of all it valued here;
One fond embrace he fain would give,
And bless his children dear.
My sons he faintly said,
My heart still rests where I've lov'd much,
And shrinks from death with dread.
'Tis agony to bear;
From those who gave it's joy to life,
And ev'ry pleasing care.
And while a breath I draw,
Page 66
Retain a father's law.
Or aught of wealth or cost,
But ah! a mansion I would give,
Which distant realms can boast.
To fit you for the road;
And while I warn'd the danger there,
The high reward I shew'd.
A pilot to your youth,
Be dying words, my living pow'r,
And your support, your truth.
Bathe them with many a tear,
And vow, his ever lov'd commands
Are more than life's blood dear.
Who grants me strength to say,
The holy hermit of the wood,
Shall best direct your way.
Page 67
Low in the dust he lies;
And pious prayers and honours due,
Before his ashes rise.
Have mourn'd the pious dead;
And next the sainted sage they greet,
Who bless'd the solemn shade.
Thy suppliants are we,
And meek they raise th' imploring eye,
And low they bend the knee.
To a bright mansion given;
For well thou canst, that saint did say,
Whose spirit rests in heaven.
Beneath the green sward laid,
And with the mourning of the heart,
His funeral honours paid.
'Tis thus we have pursu'd;
Page 68
Oh hermit of the wood!
And cheering was his look;
Compassion in his face they found,
And in the words he spoke.
In past nor future scant,
To holy men, 'twas held as true,
Heaven did such knowledge grant.
The holy hermit said,
My counsel shall not be denied,
To those who seek my aid.
Of fare he gave his best:
Bright water from the purest well,
And fruits of dainty taste.
A chain of purest gold;
Which, to each breast a lock so true,
In forms of anchors hold.
Page 69
Three lamps the chain suspend,
And thus the hermit well set forth,
Their value and their end.
Accept these gifts of love:
These answers to your prayers appear,
And your true guides shall prove.
And shews the prospect round:
And points out with parental love,
Where the safe path is found.
Nor rest in aught beneath;
That narrow path commands the prize,
Which Herman did bequeath.
These lamps shall guide your feet,
Be your conductors thro' the road,
And find yon blest retreat.
Observe and mark them well,
Page 70
To lead and to repel.
Tho' some might seem more fair.
Thro' this is the bright region shewn,
That crowns your course of care.
Still potent to disclose;
Altho' some transient charm adorns,
The depth of hidden woes.
Thus youth is wont to be;
Still ardent unknown scenes to try,
Ere they their dangers see.
And further counsel hold;
Whate'er I gave and said were vain,
If aught remain'd untold.
Their owners these employ;
As them no mortal could produce,
No mortal can destroy.
Page 71
And so united glows,
That one neglected still you'll find,
Shades o'er the other throws.
So speed you in your course,
And may the counsel you've implor'd,
Be your secure resource.
Which scant their thanks could spare;
And fear'd those counsels must be waste,
Which scarce to hear they bear.
The Hermit's eyes pursued;
Then care to sooth, with calm repose,
He sought his native wood.
The bidden path pursue;
Observe the bonds for kindred meet,
And to their faith keep true.
That pride which first begun,
Page 72
In Herman's oldest son.
Was made with kind design;
But as I cannot need its aid,
I think but light of mine.
The weak are prone to err,
And ignorance, I know it well,
Is moved by hope and fear.
To others may have use,
To me, a poor and trifling thing,
My path, I know and chuse.
The talisman that bound,
The sacred charm around his neck,
That shew'd his safest ground.
The links desert the chain;
The lamp a lasting darkness veils,
Nor fear or hope remain.
Page 73
His wisdom was his pride,
He parts, as from a vain conceit,
With an unerring guide.
Tho' some appear more fair;
Some dangers too, he well subdues,
Which he encounters there.
As haughty minds can scorn,
But those which are to pride allied,
It ever ill has born.
To the first painting then Alcestes turns;
Observe he said, in Herman's oldest hope,
High thoughts of self, which ill to counsel stoop,
He views the country with familiar air,
As if he deem'd a guide superfluous there:
Yet there is something noble in his mein,
The traits of honour, and a soul within;
But much I fear the legend will disclose,
That airy honour meets with potent foes:
Foes, which his lamp had sov'reign power to check,
But that you see is falling from his neck;
Page 74
The high reward of glorious victory;
Shewing the scenes that fallen virtue wait,
A sovereign warning from its dreadful fate:
Dark is the guide and dubious is the way,
Its end, you see no glorious prize display;
Its dangerous wanderings, there inspire no dread,
No gulphs of fire are seen, or horrors spread;
But now the legend will those scenes relate,
Which self-exalted virtue mourns too late:
See lofty hills invite;
He leaves the humbe
vale behind,
To climb the envied height.
With brethren once so dear;
Vainly they point the safer way,
The bliss or danger near.
A weak defence o'erthrows;
As broken bulwarks guard the shore,
When mighty seas oppose.
Nor thought of gulphs below:
Page 75
Along the mountain's brow.
And straight was seen no more:
'Twas fear'd he found a dread abyss.
A deep without a shore.
And how his looks express his vast delight:
No air more suited, could ambition breathe,
But quite conceal'd the gulph which yawns beneath:
The gulph which finishes his mad career,
And on its brink you see him next appear;
One foot upon the sloping surface see,
The next, within the dread abyss must be:
To save a mortal tongue the dreadful tale,
See charity prepared to spread her veil;
The motto there in golden letters read,
Judge not of him, but shun the sinner's meed.
And to the legend must return again:
And much they doubt his fate;
How sad 'tis needful aid to scorn,
They fear he found too late.
Page 76
Our wonder and our blame;
Nor think what may our peace defeat,
And blast our virtuous name.
The hermit's gift to slight;
To me he added, 'tis a prize,
View'd by the pleasing light.
So perish'd by neglect;
To use it was to keep its pow'r,
So did the sage direct.
And further said most true;
One clouded, did he well presage,
Would shade the other view.
Which glory would disclose;
And darkness only meets the eyes,
Where terrors should oppose.
Charm'd by a distant good;
Page 77
Dangers or toils subdued.
Yon way so like the true;
That pleasure's near enticing snare
Cheat not the distant view.
He said I soon shall learn;
If wrong, when there it shall appear,
'Tis easy to return.
Thy rash resolve I grieve;
For never more shalt thou regain,
What thoughtless thou shalt leave.
He thinks it causeless grief;
His lamp reveal'd him nought of woe,
Nor counsel gain'd belief.
Had speciously conceal'd;
As now the traveller's feet explore,
Are fatally reveal'd.
Page 78
Who came so near the prize;
Then whilst we pity, let us be
By sad example wise.
To the next painting I would lead your eyes;
The dullest eye may note the temper here,
Benevolence was never mark'd more clear;
This figure, now his lamp delighted tries,
As if he saw some pleasing prospect rise:
What pity that a mind so form'd for bliss,
Our legend says, that happiness could miss;
Now be his lamp the object of your sight,
His hand, observe it, covers o'er one light;
As if some view he dreaded to receive,
But nought unneedful would the Hermit give;
If mercy and reward were all his view,
He found temptations that could those subdue:
Alcestes view'd them with a moment's pause,
And to the legend their attention draws:
The youngest but remain'd:
All that obedient to him prov'd,
Or the bright mansion gain'd.
Page 79
Who mark'd his guide with care;
And saw the blissful prospect rise,
And saw the dreadful snare.
The paintings let us yet again explore:
One figure still perhaps is unobserv'd,
And pleasing hope for that we have reserv'd;
The whole expression of this face you see,
Is soften'd by a sweet humility;
And here the painter, master of his art,
Displays the very movements of his heart.
Revered Alphonso! here thy love is seen,
For me thy pencil traced this moral scene;
To these he fixed my mind with early care,
And bid me place my guardian safety there;
There, warnings to my youth, these scenes have brought,
There, lessons to the young my age has taught.
With care you see this figure seems to tread;
In every winding dreadful gulphs are seen,
The onward path leads to yon glorious scene.
Thy generous purpose we can well apply;
Page 80
A lesson that shall point thy wish within;
Strong but in weakness, in our strength most weak,
Our conscious weakness, now these aids would seek;
More diffident our course of virtue run,
And chuse the lamp of Herman's youngest son.
Page [81]
TO DELIA.
In those sweet scenes which thee disclose?
And droops thy head thou lily fair,
Declining in the balmy air?
Ye pageants of a summer's hour:
And if there be yet aught more frail,
Give it to the passing gale.
My Delia's health or peace restore?
Thy treasures back, oh earth! receive,
Or blindly still let fortune give.
Since all are born of equal clay;
Page 82
In noble or in servile dust.
Could guard thy growing years from harm,
Or teach misfortune's pensive brow,
With conscious dignity to glow.
Unfading charm! divinely fair!
Oh may its spell with potent ray,
Thro' youth and age direct thy way.
Which wisdom gives for every age;
So shall thy richly polish'd mind,
Collect its treasures unconfin'd.
Thy words be gentle, actions good:
Let all thy thoughts exalted be,
And virtue thy nobility.
Give every grace a seal divine;
For prayers and deeds united rise,
To Heaven the richest sacrifice.
Page 83
These be thy valued treasures found;
While fair humility shall reign,
A guardian o'er the heavenly train.
And friends with happier day should go,
Still mistress o'er thyself be seen,
And let thy virtues hail thee queen!
Page [84]
ON
THE BIRTH DAY
OF
THREE YOUNG LADIES.
The muses keep a watchful eye,
Deceive the conq'ring hand of time,
And what they love forbid to die.
TO ELIZA.
Shall with its sister roses fade:
TO SALLY.
And future years it's beauties shade.
Page 85
TO HELEN.
Invites our hearts to frolic mirth,
Sink blunted by the edge of time,
And lose the fire which gave it birth.
Still shall they flourish in my song,
Eliza's cheek shall always bloom,
And Helen's fire burn ever strong.
Which to their aid the graces sent,
For uncouth were the rugged rhyme,
If they no genial polish lent.
And hear the friend and poet's prayer,
Be these, thro' every scene of life,
The darling objects of thy care.
With thy best favors still be crown'd,
And ever shining with the rest,
Be rosy health and virtue found.
Page [86]
SONNET.
Then go with it corroding care;
With festive mirth and jocund song,
To hail the rising year prepare.
While wit exerts its brightest powers,
Let all within your breast be May,
And peace and joy shall lead your hours.
And snow may whiten o'er the ground,
Yet hope presents yon smiling spring,
And rising beauty blooms around.
Page 87
Propitious health her roses shed,
To meet her in the morning breeze,
Shall tempt you from your drowsy bed.
And go with it corroding care;
With festive mirth and jocund song,
To hail the rising year prepare.
Page [88]
SONNET.
Would calm my anxious cares to rest,
Could make my drooping heart rejoice,
And kindle hope within my breast.
Ah! hours alas, for ever flown,
Ah! scenes enjoy'd no more,
Yet say, has wealth aught happier known,
Or found a richer store.
Unclouded sunshine of the mind!
Where friendship left no void within,
Nor own'd a thought it wish'd confin'd.
The eye there beam'd its joy around,
The tongue was love and truth,
And there was frolic humour found,
And fancy, child of youth.
Page [89]
SONNET.
She gives without allay,
Hoped, recollected, or enjoy'd,
They gild life's brightest day.
Ye streams which murmur by!
'Tis innocence which makes your charms
So grateful to the eye.
Or sport upon the green,
Sweet sympathy attracts my mind,
With you to taste the scene.
And soft benevolence,
Improve to me whate'er of good,
Kind Heaven shall here dispense.
Page [90]
SONNET.
Her blooming garlands spread,
And opening to my eager sight,
Their vivid tints display'd;
But ah! deceitful and unkind,
She gives them to an adverse wind,
Nor heeds a suppliant's grief;
From thee alas! capricious power,
Vainly would sorrow pluck a flower,
Or picture a relief.
Shall make me this reply,
Thy passions are those adverse storms,
That wait thy victory.
Subdue the thoughts which folly share,
Subsided lie each anxious care,
And when thy work is done,
Contented with an humble lot,
Lie down, forgetting and forgot,
Beneath some simple stone.
Page [91]
TO ELIZA S----.
Homeward turns his willing feet,
Kindest, friendliest counsel giving,
If a stranger he should meet.
Thine's a road which I have gone,
Think not my friendship too presuming,
If its dangers I make known.
Mind to keep the middle way,
Danger in pleasing forms shall 'tice thee,
Lure thee from thy path to stray.
Thou'lt discern each specious foe,
Page 92
Shews they lead to lasting woe.
Tho' with flowers her path be spread,
Thy guide can see her vot'ries hasting,
To the mansions of the dead.
To her bowers of cloying sweets,
But from behind yon ghastly figures,
Drag them to their fell retreats.
On down intreat thee to repose;
But in th' inglorious lake oblivion,
All her votaries she throws.
And dissipation's giddy train,
Nor those whom vanity is leading,
Can her empty gifts retain.
Other foes shall thee surround,
Be sure to keep a steady footing,
It is all enchanted ground.
Page 93
Shews thee grandeur's envied state:
Believe it all a fair delusion.
Wretched are her followers fate.
Sink beneath the foaming waves,
Others, from dreadful heights she plunges,
Find below untimely graves.
Pleasant may'st thou find the road,
Innocence thy fair attendant,
To bright wisdom's blest abode.
Thine's a road I well have known;
Nor think my friendship too presuming,
If its dangers I have shewn.
Page [94]
TO ------.
The soft affections round my heart will play;
Still must I feel, for so the Fates ordain,
Nor can one adverse blast be spent in vain;
But hope, e'en now, would shew me brighter hours,
Inventive fancy deck her chosen bowers;
Beneath the sky prepare some clime serene,
And bid each gentle virtue guard the scene;
There tender friendship's animating ray,
Without one selfish passion's base allay;
And health, and peace, and genius she bestows,
And all the fairyland with pleasure glows;
The Muses, Loves, and Graces, sport around,
No pain or sorrow treads the hallow'd ground;
Delusion all--reason denies her aid,
Touches the landscape, and its beauties fade,
Thus spoke the tongue where earth too deeply charm'd,
Thus felt the heart by strong affections warm'd;
Let earth for brighter prospects be resign'd,
And firmer hope bestow a calmer mind.
Page [95]
TO THE SAME.
Friendship has charms to gild the happiest day,
And numerous griefs humanity may feel,
Her soothing power has suited balms to heal;
As she recedes, our energies subside,
And earth's gay scenes appear a languid void;
Thus drooping flowers when chill'd by midnight air,
Contract their leaves, and fold themselves with care;
But when the sun ascends to light the day,
They soon expand to catch the vital ray;
With animated vigour see them rise,
Beneath the azure of unclouded skies;
But, if the hollow winds and beating rain,
Sweep o'er the hills, and deluge on the plain;
Denied the genial beam which gave them birth,
They then unheeded sink to native earth.
Page [96]
ODE TO HOPE.
Supreme in airy state;
To draw the sting from fortune's wiles,
And smooth the brow of fate.
Thine is the music of the spring,
Thy breath can freshest verdure bring,
To dress the cheerless plain;
When the hoarse tempest lawless roves,
And Autumn yields her golden groves,
To Winter's dreary reign.
That close on happy days,
The tides of woe when nations war,
Thy steady anchor stays;
Far as the beam of fancy flies,
Thy fair ideal kingdoms rise,
And vernal garlands bloom;
Nor breathes a wretch so lost to thee,
Who thro' thy power no gleam can see,
That dawns on joy to come.
Page 97
An envied glittering train,
But ah! the bliss that crowns their days
Must still with thee remain.
Each take the sphere where each must move,
Nor sink below, nor rise above,
Thy soft illusive voice;
The varied wish of all who live,
Thy specious promises can give,
Unbounded as their choice.
A fair but faithless friend,
By reason's sober hand attired,
My future steps attend.
Those gay delusions ever fled,
Which unsubstantial forms had fed,
Thy pallid sister shared;
Her trembling hand she'd oft employ,
To scatter shades upon the joy,
Which disappointment spared.
Thy temper'd light display;
I yield to fancy's giddy queen,
Thy meteor's dazzling ray.
Page 98
To solid good below the skies,
Or court delusive power;
Yet cheer my paths if virtue treads,
Shine thro' the tear that sorrow sheds,
And sooth my dying hour.
Page [99]
WRITTEN AT W. C. IN OCTOBER,
AT SUN-SET
By fond remembrance dear;
With joy I hail my rural seat,
For peace and love were here.
To memory's records true:
Reflection throws a softer grace,
O'er every rising view.
Thou fast declining oak,
Our simple banquet shall be made,
Or pass our harmless joke.
Page 100
And flowery garlands wore;
But straying by your fringed brows,
I meet my friends no more.
Their mossy seat I share;
Or tread with them the velvet heath,
And gather flowerets there.
The varied moss I bring;
Or craneberry, or berry blue,
From out the purple ling.
Deep floods of waters glide,
Rich autumn's painted skies are seen,
Reflected on their tide.
This setting sun reveals;
Tho' clear wild Cambria's mountains rise,
And Mona's magic hills.
I trod that fairy ground,
Page 101
Had danced the frolic round.
The full orb'd moon appears,
And on each floweret's tender breast,
Hang sympathetic tears.
Ye fading scenes farewell!
I would return, with flowers and leaves
A while with you to dwell.
Thou overhanging rock;
Oh! from the ravage of the storm
Defend my favorite oak.
Bid peace and you adieu;
What shakes the strong, may spare the weak
And I revisit you.
Page [102]
AT THE SAME PLACE.
Corroding cares employ,
I visit thee beloved scene,
And give this day to joy.
To the smooth western sea,
Each view by summer gaily shown,
The past endears to me.
Did here the cheerless train,
Of desolating winter stray,
And bind with icy chain,
These beauties to erase;
For the young charms of vernal hours,
Fond memory would replace.
Page 103
The fragrant air is health;
Unlike the dangerous delight,
That waits on power and wealth.
And youthful gambols try;
While the plum'd people of the air,
Tune nature's general joy.
With garlands on their brow:
The world, too like a flinty breast,
Lurks in a seemly show.
In slender robe array'd;
Extends it's shade again to me,
With thinner foliage spread.
To nobler conquests soar;
Yield it the triumph of to day,
And former day's restore.
Page [104]
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF
Who was drowned upon his birth-day, and the day he
GEORGE KENDAL,
he
had been bound apprentice.
"Ah! only shewn to check our fond pursuits,
"And teach our humbled hopes that life is vain!"
Again unites thee to thy parent earth;
That day, to busy cares devoted thee,
That day, was crown'd with rest and liberty.
Soft be the slumbers of thy lowly bed,
And lightly lie the turf upon thy head;
Whil
