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POEMS
BY J. DONALDSON, AUTHOR OF THE ELEMENTS OF BEAUTY.
EDINBURGH. PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY MUNDELL AND WILSON. M,DCC,LXXXIV.
CONTENTS.
[v]- I. ON happy Retirement, Page 1
- II. Rural Repoſe, 2
- III. Ode to Modeſty, 4
- IV. On Truth, 7
- V. Eſtimate of Truth, 8
- VI. Eſtimate of Pleaſure, 9
- VII. On Affectation, 10
- VIII. Fond Hope, 11
- IX. Retirement of Philoſophy, a Sonnet, 12
- X. The Double Miſtake, a Sonnet, 13
- XI. Revolution of all Things, 14
- XII. On a Flower-Garden, 16
- XIII. Song of the Fates, 17
- XIV. Sonnet on the Death of a Lady, 19
- XV. On Soft Muſic, 20
- XVI. On an Aeolian Harp, 20
- XVII. To the Spirit of the World, 21
[]POEMS.
I. ON HAPPY RETIREMENT.
SOME wiſe men riſe to public view,
Some folly all forego:
So Scythians ſhoot when they purſue,
Or when they ſhun the foe.
Stateſmen and warriors, the firſt—
While thoſe that court the Muſe,
And calm Philoſophy, more thirſt
For peaceful life recluſe.
The lark that higheſt ſings and flies,
The loweſt builds her neſt,
And ſhe that warbles to the ſkies,
In valleys ſeeks for reſt.
[2]
Conſid'ring life with reaſon due,
Good taſte prefers a mean;
And, but for the diſcerning few,
Would wiſh to live unſeen.
II. RURAL REPOSE.
NOW day declines and all is ſtill,
Save herds that homeward hie;
The ſun-beam fades on yonder hill,
Soft as a farewell ſigh.
Bleſt mind that no rude tempeſt knows,
But mov'd with joy ſerene,
Sinks ſmiling into calm repoſe,
Like ev'ning's gentle ſcene!
But mortals turbulent and vain
Know nought of tranquil joy;
Oft ſeeking to inflict a pain,
Oft they themſelves annoy.
[3]
Falſe hopes, falſe cares, fly high, fly low,
To flatter or affright;
Theſe trimm'd in fair and ſpecious ſhew,
Thoſe like foul hags of night.
Lo! where ambition ſeeks to found
True pleaſure on a name;
Like taper-fly, ſtill circling round
The giddy torch of fame.
There thunder mighty heroes, braves,
Uſurping ſov'reign ſway;
The nation's kings, tho' nature's ſlaves,
Vain tyrants of a day.
While here ſweet peace, with head reclin'd
Upon her downy wing,
Eyes with a ſmile the cottage hind,
Or hears him blythly ſing!
III. ODE TO MODESTY.
[4]TUNE the lute and tune the lyre,
Theſe can life and love inſpire.
While the Muſes touch the ſtring,
Mirth ſhall baſhful merit bring:
Modeſty is joy concealing;
Impudence is want of feeling.
COME Modeſty, firſt-bidden gueſt,
Who of thyſelf would'ſt come the laſt;
Kind Love ſhall veil thee from the eyes
And inſolence of ruder ſpies;
And Taſte, fair Virtue's child, entwine
A garland for thy brows divine.
Happy he whoſe wiſhes find
Modeſt worth and love combin'd!
[5]Tune the lute and tune the lyre,
Theſe can life and love inſpire.
IN all things, Modeſty, with thee
Good taſte and temperance agree:
True beauty knows no boaſtful glare,
To make the ſuperficial ſtare;
Fond love, Endymion like in ſight,
Prefers the moon's chaſte modeſt light;
To ruffian war loud ſounds belong,
Thou lov'ſt the ſoft Sicilian ſong.
Tune the lute and tune the lyre,
Theſe can life and love inſpire.
NOT in rude bulk fair Beauty's Queen
Moves Goddeſs of a graceful mien;
But in due figure, unconfin'd,
Denoting elegance of mind:
But fools ſtill hold an idle ſlate,
And for the good admire the great:
[6]Thus oft ill actions gain acclaim,
While modeſt worth is mark'd with blame.
Tune the lute and tune the lyre,
Theſe can life and love inſpire.
NOR in vain greatneſs, nor the voice
Of many thou conceiv'ſt thy choice:
The fooliſh are a num'rous crew;
The wiſe, that worth eſteem, are few.
From Mercury, Love, ever young,
Firſt learn'd fair fluency of tongue,
But from Diana chaſte to wing
The ſhaft, and from the muſe to ſing;
The gentle muſe that ſhuns the croud,
Ever violent, ever loud.
HAPPY he whoſe wiſhes find
Modeſt worth and love combin'd!
Tune the lute and tune the lyre,
Theſe can life and love inſpire.
IV. ON TRUTH.
[7]TRUTH boaſts no ſupernat'ral light,
Yet ſmiles at Fable's moral ſlight,
And ſkilful in the rapt'rous art,
Herſelf can ſometimes bear a part.
Daughter of reaſon pure, and love!
Ador'd by all who pleaſure prove,
Thy mild yet energetic ray,
Like Heſperus at cloſe of day,
Not dazzles with exceſs of light,
But charms while it directs the ſight.
Thou lov'ſt the unfrequented way,
Where genius and fair ſcience ſtray.
V. ESTIMATE OF TRUTH.
[8]HE truth alone can rightly prize
Who is himſelf maturely wiſe.
To ſottiſh drunkards thoſe appear
Like ſots, who keep their ſenſes clear;
And thoſe of cooleſt ſoundeſt brain,
Are mark'd by madmen for inſane.
In ſuperſtition's ſickly dream,
Foul ſtains pollute the cleareſt ſtream;
The modeſt voice of better ſenſe,
To ſnarling fools gives harſh offence:
As much enrag'd the wild boar rears
His briſtles when he muſic hears.
' Mongſt Gods a Goddeſs Genius ſits,
A ſilent ſlave 'mongſt meaner wits.
VI. ESTIMATE OF PLEASURE.
[9]PLEASURES moving human mind,
Are of mix'd uncertain kind;
Sometimes much on fate depends,
Sometimes fancy marrs or mends.
Treach'ry, dreſs'd like Truth, prepares
For the feeling heart her ſnares;
Folly, wearing Friendſhip's guiſe,
Lends her ears to Slander's lies.
What is merit's great reward,
Save a cold or rough regard?
What does life itſelf imply,
Since all things that live muſt die?
VII. ON AFFECTATION.
[10]POOR Affectation! how much better be
That which we ſeem, than idly thus, like thee,
To ſeem what we are not? Thy cheating art
Robs ev'n its owner of the better part;
For when thou ſtriv'ſt to pleaſe, 'tis all in vain,
And pain'd thyſelf, thou giv'ſt to others pain.
Twin-child of Treachery with deadly Guile,
Diſguis'd like thee in geſture, look, and ſmile.
Slight ape of gracefulneſs, without the grace,
That mock'ſt the ſympathies of human race.
Lover and friend without love or eſteem;
Nothing to be, but all things fair to ſeem:
Endimpled ſo, the whirlpool hides death's frown,
As ſmiling on him whom it ſeeks to drown!
VIII. FOND HOPE.
[11]WHAT rapture would the Muſe again inſpire,
What dear deluſive hope, what fond deſire?
Would ſhe deſcribe the chearful beams of morn,
Or ſadder ſweets that ev'ning ſcenes adorn?
Would ſhe the charms of ſacred beauty ſing,
Or ecſtaſies that heav'nly knowledge bring?
What are the joys which nature yields or art,
Unleſs thoſe joys we freely might impart?
But, O ſad thought! a heart ſupremely kind
Seems but a viſion of the love-ſick mind,
The longing of a ſoul whoſe hopes purſue
A counter-part that ſtill eludes her view:
So rare is truth, affection's taſte ſo rare,
And bent on vanity, moſt worldly care!
IX. RETIREMENT OF PHILOSOPHY.
[12]A SONNET.
AS little ſprings that force their liquid way
From bottom of the ever-raging flood,
Beat off rude waves, and riſing into day,
To thirſty ſailors prove a ſov'reign good:
So, fair Philoſophy, thy deep-drawn ſtreams
Pervade ev'n rankeſt tides of error foul,
Diſpel the rage of ſuperſtitious dreams,
Imparting tranquil pleaſure to the ſoul!
Soft-pinion'd Peace attends thy ſimple ſtate,
Retires with thee to bow'r or rocky cell;
The Sciences, thy handmaids, ready wait,
With thee, alone, bright Truth delights to dwell:
While all afar prevails the horrid rout
Which Scylla and Charybdis herds about.
X. THE DOUBLE MISTAKE.
[13]A SONNET.*
' TIS better to be good, tho' ill eſteem'd,
And have the light, tho' others lack the ſkill
To know what ſhould or good or bad be deem'd,
Or take for good what reaſon takes for ill.
Muſt I cry lame becauſe the cripple halt,
Or feign me blind becauſe the lame wou'd lead?
Muſt I be ſenſeleſs held for others fault,
Or hold me dumb becauſe the deaf not heed?
Yet true it is, too cheaply have I ſold
That which to me has ever been moſt dear,
And better had to better hearts been told,
Than turn'd to falſhood in a fooliſh ear:
To ſome too freely would I truth have ſhewn,
Their fraud unknowing, I to them unknown.
XI. REVOLUTION OF ALL THINGS.
[14]THE gentle primroſe leads the train
Of vernal flow'rs that grace the plain;
The daiſy and the vi'let lead
The ſummer-blooms that ſcent the mead;
The laſt of winter's hardy train
Lead on the laughing ſpring again,
Nor firſt nor laſt we clearly trace
In the bright perennial race.
All, all, in endleſs circles run
To the point where they begun.
The planets whirl, the ſun about,
Nor tell us where they firſt ſet out;
All living things new ſhoots ſupply,
And only in the old ones die.
[15]Mortals quickly, too, advance,
In the never-ceaſing dance;
Men ever in their offspring live,
And as they get ſtill freely give;
Like the ſwift night-racing band,
Who bear the torch from hand to hand,
Giving life and labour o'er
To the youths who run before.*
All, all, in endleſs circles run
To the point where they begun,
Nor firſt nor laſt we clearly trace
In the bright perennial race.
XII. ON A FLOWER-GARDEN.
[16]SPARE, O ſpare each ſmiling flow'r,
Offspring of a fleeting hour;
Let them live their little day,
Man is tranſient too as they;
Man who ſeeks with giddy joy,
Firſt to rear and then deſtroy.
Let them wanton in the wind,
Let them live to leave their kind,
Still in brighteſt beauty ſeen
In their native couches green:
So ſhall they freſh odours bring,
Wafting ſweets on Zephyr's wing.
XIII. SONG OF THE FATES*
[17]IN garments white, with crowns of gold,
Preſide the Siſter Fates that hold
Their ſeats on high, the world above,
Beneath the throne of thund'ring Jove.
Amid the Sirens in a ring,
Alternate thus they ſpin and ſing:
' Souls of a day,
' Away, away!
' Another crop of mortal race,
' This quickly gone, ſhall come in place.
' Turn the whirl, the ſpindle turn,
' Mortals laugh and mortals mourn!
' HAPPY thoſe who life employ
' In ſocial ſenſe and genial joy,
[18]' Far from horrid haunts of war,
' From rapine and injuſtice far.
' Turn the whirl, the ſpindle turn,
' Mortals laugh and mortals mourn!
' LET wretches tremble at their fate,
' Who truth regard with ranc'rous hate,
' For Jove hath linked with their crimes,
' The dire events of future times.
' Turn the whirl, the ſpindle turn,
' Mortals laugh and mortals mourn!'
THE Siren-chorus join the ſong,
And in full harmony prolong,
' Souls of a day,
' Away, away!
' Another crop of mortal race,
' This quickly gone, ſhall come in place.
' Turn the whirl, the ſpindle turn,
' Mortals laugh and mortals mourn!'
XIV. SONNET ON THE DEATH OF A LADY.
[19]NOW weſtern clouds appear of golden hue,
Inlac'd with purple ſtreaks of living light;
And diſtant hills look duſky azure blue,
Involv'd within the glimm'ring ſhades of night.
Woods, hamlets, plains, with ſadneſs are o'ercaſt;
Sol's parting rays play on the dimpling main,
Amid the murmurs of the wint'ry blaſt,
Like joyful ſpirits dancing in his train.
The trees have loſt their ſilken green attire,
To foreign climes the herald-ſwallow flies,
All ſilent drooping ſit the tuneful quire,
Or welcome new-born day in happier ſkies:
Theſe in their ſeaſon ſoon ſhall glad return,
But ſhe no more, alas! for whom I mourn.
XV. ON SOFT MUSIC.
[20]SOFT muſic ſtill affords relief
To gentle ſouls far gone in grief;
Not ſuch unmitigated woe
As only duller mortals know,
Whoſe vi'lent ſorrow may no longer laſt,
Than morning dew, or april ſhow'r is paſt;
But that much deeper mourning of the heart,
In which the ſacred Siſters bear a part,
Like love ſincere, unchangeable remains,
And inly ſoothes while yet the ſoul it pains!
XVI. ON AN AEOLIAN HARP.
SWEET inſtrument, whoſe wild notes can allay
The violence of paſſion's ruder ſway!
[21]Thou by thy charming influence canſt bring
Muſic from winds, and teach them how to ſing:
O ſoothe a tender lover's ſoul to reſt,
And calm the tempeſt in his troubl'd breaſt!
XVII. TO THE SPIRIT OF THE WORLD.
O THOU, eternal HARMONY of things,
The reſt and motion, labour and repoſe
Of all by turns in their revolving courſe!
Thou force coheſive and diſſolvent pow'r;
Relation, REASON, infinite, immenſe!
With humble reverence and ſilent awe,
Let me thy light contemplate and thy love!
Thou ſhineſt in the di'mond, and the dew
Of fragrant morn; thou in the lilly ſhin'ſt,
And in the vernal roſe; the higher orbs,
The ſun great ſource of light, the moon ſerene,
And all the ſtarry hoſt ſhine forth in thee!
[22]But, ah, how far ſurpaſſing theſe ſhine forth
The light of reaſon and the ſocial ſenſe,
The ſenſe of truth, the ſympathy of love!
Theſe in the wiſe are ſeen; the wiſe in thee
Do live, thou liveſt in the wiſe. In theſe
Then let me worſhip thee; not in dull rites,
In ſpeculative dreams and myſteries;
Not in mouth-praiſes which the vain affect,
But nature's pure ſimplicity and grace,
In actions noble, juſt, beneficent.
So ſhall I live, love of thy love, in thee,
Who art the boundleſs ALL of LIFE and LOVE▪
FINIS.
Notes
*
See a Poem of SHAKESPEAR, intitled Error in Opinion.
*
The ſimile in the above, alludes to an Athenian exerciſe of racing, in which one perſon ran with a torch, and delivered it over to the next in ſucceſſion.
*
See, in PLATO's REPUBLIC, the Story of Erus Armenus.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4102 Poems by J Donaldson author of The elements of beauty. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5ED8-8