[][]
POEMS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. VIZ.
- THE NUNNERY,
- THE MAGDALENS,
- The NUN,
- RUINS OF AN ABBEY,
- YARICO TO INKLE,
- IL LATTE,
- FUGITIVE PIECES.
By Mr. JERNINGHAM.
La muſe qui dicta les rimes,
Que je vais offrir a vos yeux,
N'eſt point de ces muſes ſublimes,
Qui pour amans veulent des Dieux.
GRESSET.
LONDON: Printed for J. ROBSON, Bookſeller, at the Feathers, in New Bond-Street. MDCCLXVII.
ERRATA.
[]- Page 9. line 2. for unfold read infold.
- Page 36. line 5. for tea read tear.
- Page 54. line 14 for ſeen read ſeem
- Page 57. line [...]. for bolds read bold.
- Page 6 [...]. laſt line, a [...].
CONTENTS.
[]- THE Nunnery Page 1
- The Magdalens Page 10
- The Nun Page 17
- Aliſia, a Ballad Page 27
- Matilda, a Ballad Page 33
- To the P— of W— Page 38
- Stanzas to the E. of Cheſterfield Page 41
- The Naiad, to Dr. A Page 44
- Lines in Mr. Hume's Hiſtory Page 47
- The Lily's Triumph Page 48
- The Rookery Page 50
- The Dialogue Page 58
- Celia ſleeping Page 56
- To the D— of Q— Page 59
- The Strawberries Page 60
- On Lady Sarah B—'s Cat Page 62
- Imitated from the French Page 65
- Elegy among the Ruins of an Abbey Page 67
- Yarico to Inkle Page 76
- Il Latte, an Elegy Page 86
THE NUNNERY: An ELEGY.
[]I.
REtirement's hour proclaims the tolling bell,
In due obſervance of it's ſtern decree;
Each ſacred virgin ſeeks her lonely cell,
And leaves the grate to ſolitude and me.
II.
Now throws the weſtern ſun a fainter glare,
And ſilence ſooths the veſtal world to reſt,
Save where ſome pale-ey'd novice (wrap'd in pray'r)
Heaves a deep groan, and ſmites her guiltleſs breaſt.
[2]III.
Save that in artleſs melancholy ſtrains,
Some Eloiſa whom ſoft paſſion moves,
Abſorpt in ſorrow, to the night complains,
For ever bar'd the Abelard ſhe loves.
IV.
Within theſe ancient walls with moſs o'erſpread,
Where the relenting ſinner learns to weep,
Each in her narrow bed 'till midnight laid,
The gentle daughters of devotion ſleep.
V.
Of wantonneſs the pleaſure-breathing lay,
Or laughter beck'ning from his roſy ſeat,
Or vanity attir'd in colours gay,
Shall ne'er allure them from their lonely ſtate.
VI.
For them no more domeſtic joys return,
Or tender father plies his wonted care,
The nuptial torch for them muſt never burn,
Or prattling infants charm the ling'ring year.
[3]VII.
Oft do they weave the chaplets pictur'd gay,
To deck their altars and the ſhrines around;
How fervent do they chant the pious lay?
How thro' the length'ning iſle the notes reſound?
VIII.
Let not the gay coquette with jeſt profane,
Mock their veil'd life and deſtiny ſevere;
Nor worldly beauty with a ſneer diſdain
The humble duties of the cloiſter'd fair.
IX.
The gliſt'ning eye, the half-ſeen breaſt of ſnow,
The coral lip, the bright vermilion bloom,
Awaits alike th' inexorable foe;
The paths of pleaſure lead but to the tomb.
X.
Nor you, ye vain, impute to theſe the fault,
If flatt'ry to their fame no trophies raiſe,
Where thro' the dome with grandeur's treaſures fraught,
The num'rous fopplings lift the voice of praiſe.
[4]XI.
Can artful phraſes or alluring words,
Bid the pale cheek aſſume a ſecond prime!
Can ev'n Apollo's ſweetly-ſounding cords,
Arreſt the ſpeedy ſteps of conq'ring time.
XII.
Perhaps in this drear manſion are confin'd,
Some whoſe accompliſh'd beauty can impart,
Each ſoft emotion to the ſterneſt mind,
And wake to extacy the beating heart.
XIII.
But pleaſure flies them a forbidden gueſt,
Deck'd with the flow'rs in youth's gay path that bloom,
The clay-cold hand of penance chills their breaſt,
And o'er the rays of fancy throws a gloom.
XIV.
Full many a riv'let wand'ring to the main,
Sequeſter'd pours it's ſolitary wave;
Full many a flower is rooted from the plain,
To waſte it's ſweetneſs on the deſert grave.
[5]XV.
Some veil'd Eliza (like the clouded Sun)
May here reſide inglorious and unknown;
Some like Auguſta might have rear'd a ſon
To bleſs a nation and adorn a throne.
XVI.
From flatt'ry's lip to drink the ſweets of praiſe,
In rival charms with other belles to vie;
In circles to attract the partial gaze,
And view their beauty in th' admirer's eye.
XVII.
Their lot forbids, nor does alone remove
The thirſt of praiſe, but e'en their crimes reſtrain;
Forbids thro' folly's labyrinth to rove,
And yield to vanity the ſlacken'd rein:
XVIII.
To raiſe 'mid Hymen's joys domeſtic ſtrife,
Or ſeek that converſe which they ought to ſhun;
To looſe the ſacred ties of nuptial life,
And give to many what they vow'd to one.
[6]XIX.
Far from the circle of the ſplendid throng,
They tread obſcurity's ſequeſter'd vale;
Their lonely hours unvaried creep along,
Unfan'd by pleaſure's ever ſhifting gale.
XX.
What tho' they're ſprinkled with etherial dew!
With blooming wreaths by hands of ſeraphs crown'd!
Tho' heav'n's unfading ſplendors burſt to view,
And harps celeſtial to their ear reſound.
XXI.
Still grateful mem'ry paints the diſtant friend,
Not ev'n the world to their remembrance dies;
Their midnight oriſons to heav'n aſcend,
To ſtay the bolt deſcending from the ſkies.
XXII.
For who entranc'd in viſions from above,
The thought of kindred razes from the mind?
Feels in the ſoul no warm returning love,
For ſome endear'd companion left behind?
[7]XXIII.
Their joy encircled hearth as they forſook,
From ſome fond breaſt reluctant they withdrew:
As from the deck they ſent a farewell look,
Fair Albion ſunk for ever to their view.
XXIV.
For thee who mindful of th' encloiſter'd train,
Doſt in theſe lines their mournful tale relate;
If by compaſſion guided to this fane,
Some kindred ſpirit ſhall enquire thy fate.
XXV.
'Haply ſome aged veſtal may reply,
'Oft have we heard him 'ere Aurora's ray
'Had painted bright the portal of the ſky,
'At yonder altar join the matin lay.
XXVI.
'Where hapleſs Eloiſa ſought repoſe,
'Oft at yon grave wou'd he her fate condole,
'And in his breaſt as ſcenes of grief aroſe,
'Sigh the kind requiem to her gentle ſoul.
[8]XXVII.
'One morn I miſs'd him at the hour divine,
'Along that Iſle and in the ſacriſty:
'Another came, nor yet beſide the ſhrine,
'Nor at the font, nor in the porch was he.
XXVIII.
'The next we heard the bell of death intone,
'And in the fearful grave we ſaw him laid:
'Approach and read on this ſepulchral ſtone,
'The lines engrav'd to ſooth his hov'ring ſhade.
THE EPITAPH.
[9]XXIX.
BY Fate's ſtern hand untimely ſnatch'd away,
Does this deep vaulted cave a youth unfold:
He gave to ſolitude the ſtudious day,
And pity fram'd his boſom of her mould.
XXX.
With lyre devoted to companion's ear,
Did he bewail the veſtal's hapleſs doom;
Oft has this marble catch'd his falling tear,
And for that gen'rous tear he gain'd a tomb.
THE MAGDALENS. An ELEGY.
[10]I.
AT yonder hallow'd rail what ſcenes appear?
A num'rous train of ſuppliant nymphs I ſpy!
Their youthful cheek is pal'd with early care,
And ſorrow dwells in their dejected eye.
II.
Hark! they awake a ſolemn plaintive lay,
Where grief with harmony delights to meet;
Not Philomela from her lonely ſpray,
Trills her clear note more querulouſly ſweet.
III.
Are theſe the fair who wont with conſcious grace,
Proud Ranelagh's reſplendent round to tread?
Shine in the ſtudied luxury of dreſs!
And vie in beauty with the high-born maid!
[11]IV.
The ſmiling ſcenes of pleaſure they forſake,
Obey no more amuſement's idle call;
Nor mingling with the ſons of mirth partake,
The treat voluptuous, or the feſtive ball.
V.
For ſober weeds they change their bright attire,
Of the pearl bracelet ſtrip the graceful arm;
Veil the white breaſt, that lately ſigh'd deſire,
And to the wrapt eye heav'd, th' impriſon'd charm.
VI.
Unbraid the cunning treſſes of the hair,
And each well-fancied ornament-remove;
The glowing gem, the glitt'ring ſolitaire—
The coſtly ſpoils of proſtituted love!
VII.
Yet beauty lingers on their mournful brow,
As loth to leave the cheek bedew'd with tears;
Which ſcarcely bluſhing with a languid glow,
Like morn's faint beam thro' drizzling rain appears.
[12]VIII.
No more compare them to the ſtately flow'r,
Whoſe painted foliage wantons in the gale:
They look the lily drooping from the ſhow'r,
Or the pale vi'let ſick'ning in the vale.
IX.
Let not the prude with acrimonious taunt,
Upbraid the humble tenants of this dome;
That pleaſure's roſy bow'r they us'd to haunt,
And in the walk of looſe-rob'd dalliance roam.
X.
If fond of empire and of conqueſt vain,
They frequent vot'ries to their altars drew;
Yet blaz'd thoſe altars to the fair one's bane,
The idol they, and they the victim too!
XI.
Some in this ſacred manſion may reſide,
Whoſe parent's aſhes drank their early tears;
And hapleſs orphans! trod without a guide,
The maze of life perplext with guileful ſnares.
[13]XII.
Some that encircled by the great and rich,
Were won by wiles, and deep-deſigning art;
By ſplendid bribes, and ſoft perſuaſive ſpeech,
Of pow'r to cheat the young unguarded heart.
XIII.
Some on whom beauty breath'd her radiant bloom,
Whilſt adverſe ſtars all other gifts remov'd;
Who fled from mis'ry and a dungeon's gloom,
To ſcenes their inborn virtue diſapprov'd.
XIV.
What tho' their youth imbib'd an early ſtain,
Now gilded by the rays of new-born fame;
A ſecond innocence they here obtain,
And cloiſter'd penance heals their wounded name.
XV.
So the young myrtles nipt by treach'rous cold,
(While ſtill the ſummer yields his golden ſtore)
In ſhelt'ring walls their tender leaves unfold,
And breathe a ſweeter fragrance than before.
[14]XVI.
Tho' white-wing'd peace protect this calm abode,
Tho' each illicit paſſion be ſuppreſs'd;
Still recollection wears a ſting to goad,
Still fang'd remorſe invades their anxious breaſt.
XVII.
The tort'ring hour of mem'ry this may prove,
Who wrapt in penſive ſecreſy forlorn;
Sits muſing on the pledges of her love,
Expos'd to chilly want, and grinning ſcorn:
XVIII.
Forgot, deſerted in th' extremeſt need,
By him who ought to ſhield their tender age:
Was this ſeducer this the promis'd meed!
She cries, then ſinks beneath affliction's rage.
XIX.
Another mourns her fall with grief ſincere,
Whom tranquil reaſon tells ſhe's ſhun'd, diſdain'd;
Repuls'd as vile by thoſe who held her dear,
Who call'd her once companion, ſiſter, friend.
[15]XX.
That recollects the day when loſt to ſhame,
She fondly ſacrific'd her veſtal charms:
Reſign'd the virgin's, for an harlot's name,
And left a parent's for a ſpoiler's arms.
XXI.
Imagination pencils to her mind
The father's rage, the mother's ſofter woe:
Unhappy pair! to that diſtreſs conſign'd,
A child can give, a parent only know.
XXII.
The tragic picture fixes ſorrow's dart,
While filial paſſions in her breaſt revive:
She feels beak'd anguiſh preying at her heart,
To nature's pangs too ſenſibly alive!
XXIII.
If this or ſimilar tormenting thought,
Cling to their ſoul, when penſively alone;
For youth's offence, for Love's alluring fault,
Say, do they not ſufficiently atone!
[16]XXVI.
Oh mock not then their penitential woes,
Thou who may'ſt deign to mark this humble theme;
Nor ſeek with foul deriſion to expoſe,
And give to infamy their tainted name.
XXV.
Nor deem me one of melancholy's train,
If anxious for the ſorrow-wedded fair;
(Tho little ſkilful of poetic ſtrain,
Whoſe pleaſing muſic takes the tuneful ear.)
XXVI.
I ſteal impatient from the idle throng,
The roving gay companions of my age;
To temper with their praiſe my artleſs ſong,
And ſoft-ey'd pity in their cauſe engage.
XXVII.
'Tis virtue's taſk to ſoothe affliction's ſmart,
To join in ſadneſs with the fair diſtreſt:
Wake to another's pain the tender heart,
And move to ſympathy the feeling breaſt.
THE NUN: An ELEGY.
[17]‘Tantum relligio potuit ſuadere malorum.’
I.
WITH each perfection dawning on her mind,
All beauty's treaſure opening on her cheek;
Each flatt'ring hope ſubdued, each wiſh reſign'd,
Does gay Ophelia this lone manſion ſeek!
II.
Say, gentle maid, what prompts thee to forſake,
The paths thy birth and fortune ſtrew with flow'rs?
Thro' nature's kind endearing ties to break,
And waſte in cloiſter'd walls thy penſive hours?
III.
Let ſober thought reſtrain thine erring zeal,
That guides thy footſteps to the veſtal gate;
Leſt thy ſoft heart (this friendſhip bids reveal)
Like mine unbleſt, ſhou'd mourn like mine too late.
[18]IV.
Does ſome Angelic lonely-whiſp'ring voice,
Some ſacred impulſe, or ſome dream divine,
Approve the dictates of thy early choice!—
Approach with confidence the awful ſhrine.
V.
There kneeling at yon altar's marble baſe,
(While tears of rapture from thine eye-lid ſteal,
And ſmiling heav'n illumes thy ſoul with grace)
Pronounce the vow thou never can'ſt repeal.
VI.
But if miſled by falſe-entitled friends,
Who ſay—'that peace with all her comely train;
'From ſtarry regions to this clime deſcends,
'Smooths ev'ry frown, and ſoftens ev'ry pain:
VII.
'That veſtals tread contentment's flow'ry lawn,
'Approv'd of innocence, by health careſt:
'That rob'd in colours bright by fancy drawn,
'Celeſtial hope ſits ſmiling at their breaſt.
[19]VIII.
Suſpect their ſyren ſong and artful ſtyle,
Their pleaſing ſounds ſome treach'rous thought conceal;
Full oft does pride with ſainted voice beguile,
And ſordid int'reſt wear the maſk of zeal.
IX.
A tyrant Abbeſs here perchance may reign,
Who fond of pow'r, affects the imperial nod;
Looks down diſdainful on her female train,
And rules the cloiſter with an iron rod.
X.
Reflection ſickens at the life-long tie,
Back-glancing mem'ry acts her buſy part;
Its charms the world, unfolds to fancy's eye,
And ſheds allurement on the wiſhful heart.
XI.
Lo! diſcord enters at the ſacred porch,
Rage in her frown, and terror on her creſt:
Ev'n at the hallow'd lamps ſhe lights her torch,
And holds it flaming to each virgin breaſt.
[20]XII.
But ſince the legends of monaſtic bliſs,
By fraud are fabled, and by youth believ'd;
Unbought experience learn from my diſtreſs,
Oh! mark my lot, and be no more deceiv'd.
XIII.
Three luſtres ſcarce with haſty wing were fled,
When I was torn from ev'ry weeping friend;
A thoughtleſs victim to the temple led,
And (bluſh, ye parents) by a father's hand.
XIV.
Yet then what ſolemn ſcenes deceiv'd my choice!
The pealing organ's animating ſound;
The choral virgin's captivating voice,
The blazing altar, and the prieſts around;
XV.
The train of youth array'd in pureſt white,
Who ſcatter'd myrtles as I paſs'd along:
The thouſand lamps that pour'd a flood of light,
The kiſs of peace from all the veſtal throng.
[21]XVI.
The golden cenſers toſs'd with graceful hand,
Whoſe fragrant breath Arabian odor ſhed;
Of meek-ey'd novices the circling band,
With blooming chaplets wove around their head.
XVII.
—My willing ſoul was caught in rapture's flame,
While ſacred ardor glow'd in ev'ry vein;
Methought applauding Angels ſung my name,
And heav'n's unſullied glories gilt the fane.
XVIII.
Methought in ſun-beams robed the heav'nly ſpouſe
Indulg'd the longings of my holy love:
Not undelighted heard my virgin vows—
While o'er the altar wav'd the myſtic dove.
XIX.
This temporary tranſport ſoon expir'd,
My drooping heart confeſs'd a dreadful void:
E'er ſince, alas! abandon'd, uninſpir'd,
I tread this dome, to miſery allied.
[22]XX.
No wakening joy informs my ſullen breaſt,
Thro' opening ſkies no radiant ſeraph ſmiles;
No ſaint deſcends to ſoothe my ſoul to reſt!
No dream of bliſs the dreary night beguiles.
XXI.
Here haggard diſcontent ſtill haunts my view,
The ſombre genius reigns in ev'ry place;
Arrays each virtue in the darkeſt hue,
Chills ev'ry pray'r, and cancels ev'ry grace.
XXII.
I meet her ever in the chearleſs cell,
The gloomy grotto and unſocial wood:
I hear her ever in the midnight bell,
The hollow gale, and hoarſe-reſounding flood.
XXIII.
This caus'd a mother's tender tears to flow,
(The ſad remembrance time ſhall ne'er eraſe)
When having ſeal'd th' irrevocable vow,
I haſten'd to receive her laſt embrace.
[23]XXIV.
Full-well ſhe then preſag'd my wretched fate,
Th' unhappy moments of each future day:
When lock'd within this unrelenting grate,
My joy-deſerted ſoul wou'd pine away.
XXV.
Yet ne'er did her maternal voice unfold,
This cloiſter'd ſcene in all its horror dreſt;
Nor did ſhe then my trembling ſteps with-hold,
When here I enter'd a reluctant gueſt.
XXVI.
Ah! cou'd ſhe view her only child betray'd,
And let ſubmiſſion o'er her love prevail?
Th' unfeeling prieſt why did ſhe not upbraid,
Forbid the vow, and rend the hov'ring veil?
XXVII.
Alas! ſhe might not—her relentleſs lord
Had ſeal'd her lips, and chid her ſtreaming tears;
So anguiſh in her breaſt conceal'd its hoard,
And all the mother ſunk in dumb deſpair.
[24]XXVIII.
But thou who own'ſt a father's ſacred name,
What act impell'd thee to this ruthleſs deed!
What crime had forfeited my filial claim!
And giv'n (Oh! blaſting thought) thy heart to bleed.
XXIX.
If then thine injur'd child deſerve thy care,
Oh! haſte and bear her from this loneſome gloom:
In vain—no words can ſoothe his rigid ear;
And Gallia's laws have riveted my doom.
XXX.
Ye cloiſter'd fair! ye cenſure-breathing ſaints,
Suppreſs your taunts, and learn at length to ſpare;
Tho' mid theſe holy walls I vent my plaints,
And give to ſorrow what is due to pray'r.
XXXI.
I fled not to this manſion's deep receſs,
To veil the bluſhes of a guilty ſhame;
The tenor of an ill-ſpent life redreſs,
And ſnatch from infamy a ſinking name.
[25]XXXII.
Yet let me to my fate ſubmiſſive bow,
From fatal ſymptons if I right conceive;
This ſtream, Ophelia, has not long to flow,
This voice to murmur and this breaſt to heave.
XXXIII.
Ah! when extended on th' untimely bier,
To yonder vault this form ſhall be convey'd;
Thou'lt not refuſe to ſhed one grateful tear,
And breathe the requiem to my fleeting ſhade.
XXXIV.
With pious footſtep join the ſable train,
As thro' the lengthening iſle they take their way:
A glimmering taper let thy hand ſuſtain,
Thy ſoothing voice attune the funeral lay.
XXXV.
Behold the Miniſter who lately gave,
The ſacred veil, in garb of mournful hue;
(More friendly office) bending o'er my grave,
And ſprinkling my remains with hallow'd dew:
[26]XXXVI.
As o'er the corſe he ſtrews the rattling duſt,
The ſterneſ [...] heart will raiſe compaſſion's ſigh:
Ev'n then no longer to his child unjuſt,
The tears may trickle from a father's eye.
ALISIA. A BALLAD.
[27]I.
TO yon dark grove Aliſia flew,
Juſt at th' appointed hour;
To meet the youth whoſe boſom true,
Confeſs'd her beauty's pow'r.
II.
All that fair beauty cou'd beſtow,
Or fairer virtue give,
Did on his face unrival'd glow,
And in his boſom live.
III.
But not the charm of beauty's flow'r,
Or virtue's fairer charm;
Cou'd in her father's ſoul the pow'r
Of Avarice diſarm.
[28]IV.
He bad the youth his manſion fly,
And ſcorn'd his ardent vow:
And when the tears flow'd from his eye,
He bad them faſter flow.
V.
Aliſia with a bleeding mind,
Beheld the injur'd youth:
And vow'd, in holy wedlock join'd,
To crown at length his truth.
VI.
As ſhe forſook her native ſeat,
'Farewell ye fields ſo fair;
'May bleſſings ſtill my Father meet!
'She ſaid—and dropt a tear.
VII.
Th' oppreſſion of a parent's hand,
A parent dead to ſhame:
In her meek breaſt by virtue fan'd,
Ne'er quench'd the filial flame.
[29]VIII.
Now ſafe ſhe reach'd th' appointed ground,
Tho' love was all her guide;
But abſent when the youth ſhe found,
She look'd around and ſigh'd.
IX.
Each breeze that ruſtled o'er the tree,
Sooth'd for a ſpace her ſmart;
She fondly cried—Oh that is he!
While patted faſt her heart.
X.
The pleaſing images of hope,
Night's terrors now deform:
While on her mind drear ſceneries ope,
And raiſe the mental ſtorm.
XI.
On ſome rude ſtone ſhe bow'd her head,
All helpleſs and forlorn;
Now ſtarting from her rugged bed,
She wiſh'd the ling'ring morn.
[30]XII.
With heavy heart I now unfold,
What th' abſent youth befell;
Who fierce beſet by ruffians bold,
Oppreſs'd with numbers fell:
XIII.
At length the morn diſclos'd its ray,
And calm'd Aliſia's fear;
She reſtleſs took her various way,
(Diſtracted) here and there.
XIV.
Thus as ſhe wander'd, wretched maid,
To mis'ry doom'd! ſhe found
A naked corſe along the ſhade,
And gaſh'd with many a wound.
XV.
Struck to the ſoul at this dread ſcene,
All motionleſs ſhe ſtood!
To view the raven bird obſcene,
Drink up the clotting blood.
[31]XVI.
What horrors did her breaſt invade,
When as ſhe nearer drew?
The features that the raven fed,
Her lover gave to view.
XVII.
With ſhrieks ſhe rent th' affrighted air!
To tears had fond recourſe;
With frantic hand now tore her hair,
Now ſunk upon the corſe.
XVIII.
Then throwing round a troubled glance,
With madneſs' ray inflam'd:
Beheld ſome travellers advance,
To whom ſhe thus exclaim'd.
XIX.
'Ye baſe inhuman train, away!
'What urg'd yon to this deed?
'You've turn'd my gentle love to clay,
'And bad me ſorrow wed.
[32]XX.
'Hark, hark! the raven flaps her wings—
'She drinks his blood again—
'Ah I now ſhe feeds on my heart-ſtrings—
'Oh Jeſu! ſoothe my pain.
XXI.
This ſcene of woe what cou'd create,
The travellers admir'd;
While ſhrinking at the blow of fate,
She with a groan expir'd.
MATILDA. A BALLAD.
[33]I.
OUtrageous did the loud wind blow,
Acroſs the ſounding main!
The veſſel toſſing to and fro,
Cou'd ſcarce the ſtorm ſuſtain.
II.
Matilda to her fearful breaſt,
Held cloſe her infant dear;
His preſence all her fears encreas'd,
And wak'd the tender tear.
III.
Now nearer to the grateful ſhore,
The ſhatter'd veſſel drew:
The daring waves now ceaſe to roar,
Now ſhout th' exulting crew.
[34]IV.
Matilda with a mother's joy,
Gave thanks to heaven's pow'r:
How fervent ſhe embrac'd her boy!
How bleſt the ſaving hour.
V.
Oh much deceiv'd and hapleſs fair!
Tho' ceas'd the waves to roar,
Thou from that fatal moment ne'er,
Did'ſt taſte of pleaſure more.
VI.
For ſtepping forth from off the deck,
To reach the welcome ground;
The Babe unclaſping from her neck,
Plung'd in the gulph profound.
VII.
Amazement-chain'd! her haggard eye
Gave not a tear to flow;
Her boſom heav'd no conſcious ſigh,
She ſtood a ſculptur'd woe.
[35]VIII.
To ſnatch the child from inſtant death,
Some brav'd the threat'ning main;
And to recal his fleeting breath,
Try'd ev'ry art in vain.
IX.
But when the corſe firſt met her view,
Stretch'd on the pebbly ſtrand:
Awak'ning from her trance ſhe flew,
And pierc'd th' oppoſing band;
X.
With treſſes diſcompos'd and rude,
Fell proſtrate on the ground;
To th' infant's lips her lips ſhe glew'd,
And ſorrow burſt its bound.
XI.
Upriſing now with frantic air,
To the wide-circling crowd,
Who, pity-ſtruck, partook her care,
She thus diſcours'd aloud.
[36]XII.
'Heard ye the helpleſs infant weep!
'Saw ye the mother bold!
'How as ſhe flung him in the deep,
'The billows o'er him roll'd.
XIII.
'May beak'd remorſe her boſom tea [...] ▪
'Deſpair her mind up-plough!
'Its angry arm let juſtice rear,
'To daſh her impious brow.
XIV.
'But ſoft, awhile—ſee there he lies,
'Embalm'd in infant ſleep:
'Why fall the dew-drops from your eyes,
'What cauſe is here to weep!
XV.
'Yes, yes! his little life is fled,
'His heaveleſs breaſt is cold;
'What tears will not thy mother ſhed,
'When thy ſad tale is told!
[37]XVI.
Ah me! that cheek of livid hue,
'If much I do not err!
Thoſe lips were late the roſes blew,
'All, all, my ſon declare.
XVII.
Strange horrors chill my ev'ry vein,
'A voice confus'd and wild,
Whiſpers to this diſtracted brain,
'Matilda ſlew her child.
XVIII.
She added not—but ſunk oppreſs'd—
Death on her eyelids ſtole:
While from her much afflicted breaſt,
She ſigh'd her troubled ſoul.
To ——
[38]APOLLO bids the muſes rove,
The lonely path the ſilent grove:
He bids the graces oft reſort,
To feſtive ſcenes and ſplendid court,
Yet will he let the muſe repair,
To where Charlotta guards her heir;
Unblam'd the royal babe approach,
And ſtrew freſh flow'rets o'er his couch,
As on his cheek buds nature's roſe,
With virtue's bud his boſom glows;
Whoſe foliage opening into day,
Shall each parental ſtreak diſplay:
And when the coming ſpring prevails
With ſweets maternal, ſcent the gales.
Your choiceſt wreath, ye fairies bring,
To crown the little embrio king:
[39]Behold that hand with gewgaws play,
Which ſhall Britannia's ſcepter ſway:
Attentive o'er the nurs'ry plain,
Behold him range his mimic men:
Unconſcious of the future hour,
When veſted with imperial pow'r,
He, Hero-like, ſhall lead his train,
To combat on a real plain;
While victory ſhall bleſs the war,
And ſcatter laurels from her car:—
Illuſtrious babe, tho' deaf to praiſe,
For thee I frame theſe humble lays:
The day will come (but may kind fate
Keep back that day 'till very late)
When thou thy much-lov'd father's heir,
Like him ſhal't grace the regal chair;
Shalt hold, approv'd th' imperial helm,
And bleſs, like him, a grateful realm.
Oh! then ſhall praiſe ring out her peal,
And flatt'ry her bright flow'rets deal:
Ah, if thine eye in future time
Shou'd chance to mark this artleſs rhyme,
[40]When ſtretch'd beneath the fun'ral ground,
This frame ſhall lay with oſier bound;
Thou'lt find one of the muſe's train,
For thee awak'd his gentle ſtrain:
What time unconſcious of the theme,
That did unfold thy future fame;
Thou cou'd'ſt not with a ſmile reward
The numbers of th' unvenal bard:
While they who ſhall theſe lines peruſe,
If lines like theſe ſurvive their muſe;
Shall own, when they look up to you,
That he was bard and prophet too.
To the EARL of CHESTERFIELD. AUGUST 7th.
[41]I.
REclin'd beneath thy ſhade, Blackheath!
From politicks and ſtrife apart;
His temples twin'd with laurel-wreath,
And virtue ſmiling at his heart:
II.
Will Cheſterfield the muſe allow,
To break upon his ſtill retreat?
To view if health ſtill ſmooths his brow,
And prints his grove with willing feet?
III.
Tho' gratitude is rarely found,
At court or ſpacious drawing-room;
Still ſhall ſhe tread poetic ground,
And favors paſt ſhall ne'er intomb.
[42]IV.
'Twas this awak'd the preſent theme,
And bad it reach thy diſtant ear;
Where if no rays of genius beam,
Sincerity at leaſt is there.
V.
May pale diſeaſe fly far aloof,
O'er venal domes its flag diſplay;
And health beneath thy peaceful roof,
Add luſtre to thine evening ray.
VI.
If this my fervent wiſh be crown'd,
I'll dreſs with flowr's the godhead's ſhrine:—
Nor thou with wiſdom's chaplet bound,
At any abſent gift repine.
VII.
What tho' thou doſt not grace a throne,
While ſubjects bend the ſupple knee;
No other king the muſes own,
And ſcience lifts her eye to thee.
[43]VIII.
Tho' deafneſs by a doom ſevere,
Steals from thy ear the murm'ring rill;
Or Philomel's delightful air,
Ev'n deem not this a partial ill.
IX.
Ah, if anew thine ear was ſtrung,
Awake to ev'ry voice around?
Thy praiſes by the many ſung,
Wou'd ſtun thee with the choral ſound!—
THE NAIAD. To Dr. AKENSIDE.
[44]I.
ONCE did this cool and twilight grot,
Which babbling ſtreams ſurround;
And all this ſtill umbrageous ſpot,
Re-echo to thy ſound!
II.
Thy tuneful muſe' harmonious ſound!
My mind retains the day;
When circling Naiads beat the ground,
In honor of thy lay.
III.
How pleaſure brighten'd ev'ry face!
How murmur'd ſoft the ſtream;
How fluſh'd each flow'r a new-born grace,
As conſcious of thy theme.
[45]IV.
E'er ſince the mazy, tinkling rill,
Or Philomela's air;
Reſounding clear at evening ſtill,
Are all the notes we hear.
V.
Rejoin (nor let this pray'r be vain)
Rejoin our pebbled haunts:
Once more awake the unwilling ſtrain,
That our fair troop enchants.
VI.
Thee now alas occaſion dear,
Calls to this grotto's gloom:
From Naiads guſh the heart-ſprung tear,
And ſoils their wonted bloom.
VII.
For Aganippe, lovely maid,
To mirth become a foe;
On her white arm reclines her head,
A prey to conſtant woe.
[46]VIII.
This morn at twilight's grateful hour,
The ſubject Naiad throng;
Approach'd the virgin's lonely bow'r,
And plied a ſoothing ſong:
IX.
But muſic's ſoothing art was vain,
To raiſe her eyelids dim:
'Till one of the fair choral train,
Tun'd thine unrival'd hymn.
X.
Ah, when that pleaſing line was heard,
That ſounds her grateful name;
Her drooping head ſhe gently rear'd,
And own'd the powerful theme.
XI.
Reviſit then our wat'ry bow'rs,
And bring thy magic lyre:
Ah, bring thy wreath of ſmiling flow'rs,
And lead the tuneful choir:
WRITTEN IN MR. HUME's HISTORY.
[47]I.
BIG with the tales of other years,
Here lays the hiſtoric tome;
Which to the penſive mind appears,
A deep capacious tomb:
II.
Where long embalm'd by Clio's hand,
The patriot and the ſlave;
Who ſav'd, and who betray'd the land,
Preſs one extenſive grave:
III.
With thoſe that graſp'd the imperial helm,
And trod the path of pow'r:
With thoſe who grac'd fair learning's realm,
And beauty's fairer bow'r:
IV.
If thus th' illuſtrious cloſe their ſcene,
Oblivion then may laugh;
What flows from Hume's immortal pen,
Is but an Epitaph!
THE LILY's TRIUMPH.
[48]THE ſun unveil'd his brighteſt ray,
The birds attun'd their ſweeteſt lay;
As Flora iſſued from her bow'r,
To ſhed perfumes on ev'ry flow'r.
As ſhe approach'd her painted train,
With joy ſhe view'd the chearful ſcene;
This flow'r ſhe kiſs'd, and that ſhe rais'd—
She gather'd one, another prais'd;
Yet ſtill of all her gay parterre,
The lily ſeem'd her greateſt care;
Meek child, the radiant goddeſs cried,
Of gardens now be thou the pride.
Know that Lucinda, beauteous fair!
Doth thee to all my train prefer.
[49]Ah go beyond thy equals bleſt,
And breathe thine odor on her breaſt;
Yet envy not that iv'ry ſhrine,
Whoſe whiteneſs far ſurpaſſeth thine;
By nature's hand with incenſe ſpread,
Whoſe ſweetneſs far doth thine exeeed:
Enough that thou enjoy'ſt the ſeat,
Where virtue and the graces meet.
THE ROOKERY.
[50]OH thou who dwell'ſt upon the bough,
Whoſe tree does wave its verdant brow;
And ſpreading ſhades, the diſtant brook,
Accept theſe lines, dear ſiſter Rook!
And when thou'ſt read my mournful lay,
Extend thy wing and fly away,
Leſt pinion-maim'd by fiery ſhot,
Thou ſhould'ſt like me bewail thy lot;
Leſt in thy rook'ry be renew'd,
The tragic ſcene which here I view'd.
The day declin'd, the evening breeze
Gently rock'd the ſilent trees,
While ſpreading o'er my peopled neſt,
I huſh'd my callow young to reſt:
[51]When ſuddenly an hoſtile ſound,
Exploſion dire! was heard around:
And level'd by the hand of fate,
The angry bullets pierc'd my mate;
I ſaw him fall from ſpray to ſpray,
Till on the diſtant ground he lay:
With tortur'd wing he beat the plain,
And never caw'd to me again.
Many a neighbour, many a friend,
Deform'd with wounds, invok'd their end:
All ſcreaming, omen'd notes of woe,
'Gainſt man our unrelenting foe:
Theſe eyes beheld my pretty brood,
Flutt'ring in their guiltleſs blood:
While trembling on the ſhatter'd tree,
At length the gun invaded me;
But wayward fate ſeverely kind,
Refus'd the death, I wiſh'd to find:
Oh! farewell pleaſure, peace, farewell,
And with the gory raven dwell.
Was it for this I ſhun'd retreat,
And fix'd near man my ſocial ſeat?
[52]For this deſtroy'd the inſect train,
That eat unſeen the infant grain!
For this with many an honeſt note,
Iſſuing from my artleſs throat;
I chear'd my Lady, liſt'ning near,
Working in her elbow chair?
THE DIALOGUE.
[53]EVANDER.
OH thou (ſo very rarely found)
With youth at once, and wiſdom crown'd:
If yet no ſwain with happy art,
E'er fond a paſſage to thy heart:
(Stain not thy cheek with crimſon hue,
But tell me, fair Belinda, true)
Each vain diſtinction I'l remove,
And take thee for my bridal love!
BELINDA.
This guileleſs breaſt does love awake?
It glows for my Evander's ſake:
[54]No daring youth ſhall ever ſteal
The ſacred flame for thee I feel:
Amid the grove, the choiceſt tree,
Does lov'd Evander ſeem to me.
EVANDER.
That happy tree ſhall prove a ſcreen,
To ſhield thee thro' life's various ſcene;
From ev'ry gale that envy blows,
From ev'ry blaſt that mis'ry knows:
From danger's threat'ning clouds that low'r,
Oppreſſion's ſtorm, and ſorrow's ſhow'r.
A flow'r recoiling from the gale,
Juſt wakening in the lowly vale;
And waving near the pureſt ſtream,
To me does fair Belinda ſeen.
BELINDA.
Oh may the ſun with pow'rful beam,
Revive that flow'r, beſide the ſtream!
Paint her all in the gayeſt bloom,
And call forth ev'ry kind perfume:
[55]May Flora come in welcome hour,
To raiſe her drooping from the ſhow'r:
May Zephyr with his cooling breath,
Still fan away the ſultry death;
Till perfected at length by time,
And opening in her brigheſt prime;
She may by love and fortune bleſt,
Breathe all her odors on thy breaſt.
CELIA SLEEPING.
[56]I.
WHERE yonder ſhades exclude the ſkies,
The faireſt of her ſex was ſeen;
While Morpheus ſeal'd her radiant eyes,
And half eclips'd her lovely mien:
II.
Th' unerring archer by her ſide,
In idle ſlumbers preſs'd the ground;
The feather'd ſhafts in crimſon dy'd,
Were innocently ſpread around.
III.
'Twas then the youthful pleaſures came,
By their tranſparent cincture known;
They danc'd around the beauteous dame,
And jocund ſtole her ſacred zone.
[57]IV.
The kind occaſion cried—be bolds!
But Celia thou had'ſt nought to fear:
The youth is by reſpect control'd,
Whoſe boſom owns a love ſincere.
V.
Alarm'd, the little God I ſought,
And ſeiz'd his brow-encircling band;
(By Venus' roſy ſingers wrought)
And veil'd thy charms with trembling hand.
VI.
The godhead ſtarting from his dream,
Straight gather'd every idle dart;
And then vindictive took his aim,
While many an arrow reach'd my heart.
VII.
Nor yet content the godhead ſwore,
If thou woud'ſt not the band deliver;
He wou'd on me exhauſt his ſtore,
Nor leave a dart within his quiver.
[58]VIII.
Let then my life, by thee ſecur'd,
O'er Cupid's ſpight at length prevail:
Ah! cure the wounds for thee endur'd,
And throw away the hateful veil.
To the D—— of Q—Y.
[59]WHEN beauteous Q—y reach'd her fiftieth year,
A period fatal to the blooming fair!
Time ſnatch'd his hoſtile ſcythe, intent to mow
The native flow'rs that grace her lovely brow:
Vain thought! the ſcythe drop'd harmleſs from his hand,
His hour glaſs falling, loſt the impriſon'd ſand;
His agitated breaſt confeſs'd alarms,
And the world's victor ſtood ſubdu'd with charms.
At length withdrawing he revers'd the doom,
And bad her features wear unfading bloom.
THE STRAWBERRIES.
[60]THE winter left the naked plain,
And ſpring's gay pencil deck'd the ſcene;
And as ſhe wav'd her magic wand,
With early fruitage bluſh'd the land:
'Twas then Pomona rais'd her head,
And joyful view'd a ſtrawb"ry bed!
Two ſiſter berries caught her eye,
Impurpled with the brigheſt die.
'Theſe bluſhing twins, the goddeſs ſaid,
(And pluck'd them from their verdant bed)
'I'll give to ſome thrice beauteous fair,
'To bloom, conceal'd beneath her care;
''Till an illuſtrious Duke (whoſe name
'Is known to Anceſtry and Fame)
'Conducted by ſome partial pow'r,
'Shall gather them at midnight hour:
[61]'And love remove the ſlender veſt,
'To light him to the heav'nly feaſt':—
The bluſhing twins ſhe thus addreſs'd,
Then fix'd them on Amanda's breaſt.
On LADY SARAH B—'s CAT.
[62]WITH fancy's gay ſuggeſtion fraught,
Venus indulg'd a frolic thought;
Departing from her former plan,
New ſchemes ſhe fram'd to conquer man:
Diſcharg'd her troop of ſmiling loves,
Her archer-ſon and cooing doves;
Admitting to their vacant place,
The gentleſt of the purring race.
This change of miniſterial meaſures,
Provok'd at firſt the youthful pleaſures;
They ſwore they wou'd no more reſort
To Paphos, or th' Idalian court:
[63]But reaſon their reſentment cool'd,
And bad them be by Laura rul'd!
Ah! happieſt of the feline train,
Wilt thou admit this artleſs ſtrain?
The lover now for Cupid's dart,
Shall feel thy talon at his heart:
Thy form upon the ſeal impreſs'd,
Where Venus once her birds expreſs'd,
Shall (ſtamp'd upon the crimſon glue)
Secure the ſecret billet-doux.
Echo, amid the darken'd grove,
Shall heed no more the murm'ring dove;
But in the precincts of White-Hall,
Shall ſit attentive to thy call.
Ah! happieſt of the purring train!
When Morpheus holds his ſilent reign;
Thy Queen's love darting radiant eyes,
That emulate the ſtarry ſkies;
'Tis thine with velvet foot to cloſe,
And gently purr her to repoſe.
[64]Ah! wou'dſt thou purr this heart to reſt.
And cloſe the wounds within this breaſt;
How grateful wou'd I wake the ſtring,
And Venus and her Laura ſing
Imitated from the FRENCH.
[65]I.
STRAYING beſide yon wood-ſkreen'd river.
Dan Cupid met my wond'ring view;
His feather'd arrows ſtor'd his quiver,
Each feather glow'd a diff'rent hue:
II.
'For him who frames the daring deed,
'(The little godhead ſaid and laugh'd)
'To fly with Miſs beyond the Tweed,
'An eagle's plume adorns the ſhaft.
III.
'The prattler vain of his addreſs,
'The magpye's feathers never fail;
'And for the youth too fond of dreſs,
'I rob the gaudy peacock's tail.
[66]IV.
'Whene'er I mean to rouſe the care
'That lurks within, the jealous heart,
'The owl that wings the midnight air
'Lends his grave plume to load the dart.
V.
'But rarely when I wou'd aſſail
'The conſtant heart with truth impreſt,
'Then for the trembling ſhaft I ſteal
'A feather from the turtle's breaſt:
VI.
'Lo! one with that ſoft plumage crown'd,
'Which more than all my arms I prize'—
Alas! I cried, this gave the wound,
When late you ſhot from Julia's eyes.
AN ELEGY WRITTEN AMONG THE RUINS OF AN ABBEY.
[67]I.
WHERE ſighs the zephyr to yon lonely tree,
A ſolemn grove its leafy mantle ſpread:
Where bend yon mould'ring turrets o'er the ſea,
A venerable dome once rear'd its head.
II.
The ſolemn grove, the venerable dome,
Were erſt frequented by a num'rous train,
Ev'n chaſte as they who Dian's mountain roam,
But not ſubjected to her gentle reign:
III.
Far other Goddeſs did this train obey,
Far other temples, other altars rais'd,
Far other meaning breath'd their choral lay,
Far other incenſe on their altars blaz'd:
[68]IV.
Veil'd Superſtition wak'd her magic ſound,
Bad Albion's ſons forſake the ſplendid court,
Forſake Amuſement's variegated round,
And to her ſable ſtandard here reſort:
V.
Alas! obſequious to her ſtern command,
A ſullen-penſive brotherhood they came,
Refus'd to trace the paths by nature plan'd,
And raz'd from glory's page their ancient name.
VI.
Nor theſe alone were found incloiſter'd here,
Here alſo dwelt the ſimple-minded ſwain,
Who wrapt in ſloth dream'd out the lazy year,
'While Induſtry ſat weeping on the plain.'
VII.
The many temples riſing fair to view,
Which tow'ring Superſtition call'd her own,
With hand unerring radiant Truth o'erthrew,
And ſnatch'd th' impoſtor from her tinſel'd throne:
[69]VIII.
On yon duſt-level'd ſpire the crafty maid,
With indignation brooding in her breaſt
Sits gloomily.—Her vot'ries all are fled,
Her lamps extinguiſh'd, and her rites ſuppreſs'd:
IX.
Within her hand a vacant ſtring ſhe holds
That once connected many a hallow'd bead:
The blotted ſcroll the other hand unfolds,
Contains the maxims of her ſlighted creed:
X.
Couch'd at her feet, behold a mould'ring ſhrine
(Of various relics once the dread abode)
Where runs the ſpider o'er his treach'rous line,
Where lurks the beetle, and the loathſome toad:
XI.
On darkneſs' wing now ſails the midnight hour,
When for the grateful ſound of choral pray'r,
The ſhrieking owl from yon diſparted tow'r,
With notes of horror wakes her trembling ear.
[70]XII.
Of human grandeur mark the fleeting day,
How frail each purpoſe, and each wiſh how vain!
The ſtrong-built domes, the cloiſter'd fanes decay,
And ruin hovers round the deſert ſcene.
XIII.
The path that leads to yonder ſhatter'd pile
Is now perplex'd with many a ſordid brier:
No crowd is ſeen within the ſacred iſle,
The Sabbath mourns its long-deſerted quire.
XIV.
The golden crozier blended with the duſt
In horrid folds the ſerpent claſps around:
The pow'rful image, and the ſainted buſt,
Defam'd, unhallow'd, preſs the weedy ground.
XV.
Not diſtant far, her gold-encircled tow'r
Th' inviolable dome majeſtic rear'd,
On whoſe dread altar breath'd ſome hidden pow'r,
By terror guarded, and by kings rever'd:
[71]XVI.
To which aſylum ev'n th' aſſaſſin came,
(His hand audacious ſtill imbru'd with gore)
The boon of full impunity to claim,
While feeble Juſtice wept her baffled lore.
XVII.
So Truth at once diſſolv'd the mental chain,
And baniſh'd Error from th' enlighten'd ſhore:
So clos'd at length the buſy-acted ſcene,
The curtain drop'd, and Folly's maſk was o'er.
XVIII.
Then gladſome Ceres rais'd her drooping head,
(While yellow harveſts gilt the ſmiling plain)
Beheld a youthful band around her ſpread,
With ſickles arm'd to reap the bearded grain.
XIX.
The warrior then beneath the trailing veſt,
The peaceful caſſock, or the drowſy cowl,
No longer quench'd the flame within his breaſt,
Or lull'd the purpoſe of his daring ſoul:
[72]XX.
But ruſh'd undaunted to the doubtful war,
Purſu'd where glory led the radiant way,
Till Neptune riſing on his coral car,
Reſign'd his wat'ry world to Britain's ſway.
XXI.
The virgin fair by venal guardians doom'd,
By error prompted, or ſubdu'd by force,
No more in cloiſters drear their days conſum'd:
Like flowrets ſtrew'd around the ſenſeleſs corſe.
XXII.
Triumphant Hymen hail'd the bliſsful hour,
And ſaw a white-rob'd ſocial train approach,
For whom the Pleaſures dreſs'd the happy bow'r,
And ſcatter'd roſes o'er the deſtin'd couch.
XXIII.
Still other bleſſings from this change appear'd,
No injur'd family did then behold
On loit'ring monks its native wealth confer'd,
Nor ſpacious altars cover'd with its gold.
[73]XXIV.
Full many trod that crooked path to fame,
Yet from her hand receiv'd no laſting meed,
She from her annals rends their fading name,
And gives to infamy the worthleſs deed:
XXV.
But vengeance ſome purſu'd with dire diſgrace,
Purſu'd beyond the circle of its ſphere,
Even to the cemetary's dark receſs,
Nor ſpar'd them ſleeping on the peaceful bier:
XXVI.
Beſide the ſpreading of that ſombrous yew,
Where yawns with hideous chaſm the vaulted cave,
Preſenting to the fix'd aſtoniſh'd view,
The profanation of a rifled grave:
XXVII.
The large-endowing Rufus lay inurn'd
With many a ſculptur'd image on his ſhrine,
That ſmit with ſorrow o'er his aſhes mourn'd,
The Siſter-Graces and the tuneful Nine.
[74]XXVIII.
Imprinted on Tradition's ſtoried leaf
Is found (to this ſepulchral ſpot confin'd)
A terror-breathing tale that wins belief,
And oft repeated by the neighb'ring hind!
XXIX.
From where yon mountain ſhades the dreary plain,
Attracted by the ſcent of human blood,
A troop of wolves voracious ſcour'd amain,
And at this charnel vault requir'd their food:
XXX.
When, horrid to relate! they burſt the tomb,
And ſwift deſcending to the deepeſt ſhade,
Up-tore the ſhrouded tenant from its womb,
And o'er the mangled corſe relentleſs prey'd.
XXXI.
The paly ſtars with dim reluctant light,
Like tapers glimmer'd on their orgies foul,
While gliding ſpectres ſcream'd with wild affright,
Re-echo'd loud by their tremendous howl!
[75]XXXII.
Ah! what avail'd the ſolemn-moving herſe?
The ſable-mantled cars, the fun'ral throng?
Grav'd on his monument the ſoothing verſe?
The prieſts, the torches, and the choral ſong?
XXXIII.
Misjudging wretch! while thou with hand profuſe,
Thy treaſures on this manſion didſt entail,
And pour down riches on the vow'd recluſe,
Thine orphan babes partook a ſcanty meal:
XXXIV.
Thy widow'd fair, her cheek bedew'd with tears,
Approach'd with ſuppliant knee the cloiſter-gate,
There oft diſclos'd in vain her poignant cares,
Returning ſtill to weep her hapleſs fate.
YARICO to INKLE: An EPISTLE.
[76]WITH falſehood lurking in thy ſordid breaſt,
And perj'ry's ſeal upon thy heart impreſt,
Dar'ſt thou, Oh Chriſtian! brave the ſounding waves,
The treach'rous whirlwinds, and untrophied graves?
Regardleſs of my woes ſecurely go,
No curſe-fraught accents from theſe lips ſhall flow;
My fondeſt wiſh ſhall catch thy flying ſail,
Attend thy courſe, and urge the fav'ring gale:
May ev'ry bliſs thy God confers be thine,
And all thy ſhare of woe compris'd in mine.
One humble boon is all I now implore,
Allow theſe feet to print their kindred ſhore:
Give me, Oh Albion's ſon, again to roam
For thee deſerted my delightful home:
To view the groves that deck my native ſcene,
The limpid ſtream, that graceful glides between:
[77]Retrieve the fame I ſpurn'd at Love's decree,
Aſcend the throne which I forſook for thee:
Approach the bow'r—(why ſtarts th' unbidden tear?)
Where once thy YARICO to thee was dear.
The ſcenes the hand of time has thrown behind,
Returns impetuous to my buſy mind:
'What hoſtile veſſel quits the roaring tide
'To harbour here its tempeſt-beaten ſide?
'Behold the beach receives the ſhip-wreck'd crew:
'Oh mark their ſtrange attire and pallid hue!
'Are theſe the Chriſtians, reſtleſs ſons of pride,
'By av'rice nurtur'd, to deceit allied?
'Who tread with cunning ſtep the maze of art,
'And maſk with placid looks a canker'd heart?
'Yet note, ſuperior to the num'rous throng,
'(Ev'n as the citron humbler plants among)
'That youth!—Lo! beauty on his graceful brow
'With nameleſs charms bids ev'ry feature glow,
'Ah! leave, fair ſtranger, this unſocial ground,
'Where danger broods, and fury ſtalks around:
'Behold thy foes advance—my ſteps purſue
'To where I'll ſcreen thee from their fatal view:
'He comes, he comes! th' ambroſial feaſt prepare,
'The fig, the palm-juice, nor th' anâna ſpare:
[78]'In ſpacious caniſters nor fail to bring
'The ſcented foliage of the bluſhing ſpring:
'Ye graceful handmaids, dreſs the roſeate bow'r,
'And hail with muſic this auſpicious hour;
'Ah no! forbear—be ev'ry lyre unſtrung,
'More pleaſing muſic warbles from his tongue;
'Yet, utter not to me the lover's vow,
'All, all is thine that friendſhip can beſtow:
'Our laws, my ſtation, check the guilty flame,
'Why was I born, ye powers, a Nubian dame?
'Yet ſee around at Love's enchanting call,
'Stern laws ſubmit, and vain diſtinctions fall:
'And mortals then enjoy life's tranſient day,
'When ſmit with paſſion they indulge the ſway:
'Yes! crown'd with bliſs we'll roam the conſcious grove,
'And drink long draughts of unexhauſted love:
'Nor joys alone, thy dangers too I'll ſhare,
'With thee the menace of the waves I'll dare:
'In vain—for ſmiles his brow deep frowns involve,
'The ſacred ties of gratitude diſſolve,
'See Faith diſtracted rends her comely hair,
'His fading vows while tainted zephyrs bear!'
Oh thou, before whoſe ſeraph-guarded throne
The Chriſtians bow and other Gods diſown,
[79]If wrapt in darkneſs thou deny'ſt thy ray,
And ſhroud'ſt from Nubia thy celeſtial day!
Indulge this fervent pray'r to thee addreſs'd,
Indulge, tho' utter'd from a ſable breaſt:
May gath'ring ſtorms eclipſe the chearful ſkies,
And mad'ning furies from thy hell ariſe:
With glaring torches meet his impious brow,
And drag him howling to the gulf below!
Ah no!—May heav'n's bright meſſengers deſcend,
Obey his call, his ev'ry wiſh attend!
Still o'er his form their hov'ring wings diſplay!
If he be bleſt, theſe pangs admit allay:
Me ſtill her mark let angry fortune deem,
So thou may'ſt walk beneath her cloudleſs beam.
Yet oft to my wrapt ear didſt thou repeat,
That I ſuffic'd to frame thy bliſs compleat:
For Love's pure flame I took thy tranſient fires:
We fondly credit what the heart deſires.
I hop'd, alas! to breathe thy native air,
And vie in ſplendor with the Britiſh fair:
Aſcend the ſpeedy car enchas'd with gold,
With robes of ſilk this pearl-deck'd form infold:
Bid on this jetty hand the diamond glow,
And choſen rubies ſparkle from my brow.
Deluded ſex! the dupes of man decreed,
We, ſplendid victims, at his altar bleed.
[80]The grateful accents of thy candy'd tongue,
Where artful flatt'ry too perſuaſive hung,
Like flow'rs adorn'd the path to my diſgrace,
And bade deſtruction wear a ſmiling face.
Yet form'd by Nature in her choiceſt mould,
While on thy cheek her bluſhing charms unfold,
Who could oppoſe to thee ſtern Virtue's ſhield?
What tender virgin would not wiſh to yield?
But pleaſure on the wings of time was born,
And I expos'd a prey to grinning ſcorn.
Of low-born traders—mark the hand of fate!
Is YARICO reduc'd to grace the ſtate,
Whoſe impious parents, an advent'rous band,
Imbru'd with guiltleſs blood my native land:
Ev'n ſnatch'd my father from his regal ſeat,
And ſtretch'd him breathleſs at their hoſtile feet?
Ill-fated prince! The Chriſtians ſought thy ſhore,
Unſheath'd the ſword, and mercy was no more.
But thou, fair ſtranger, cam'ſt with gentler mind
To ſhun the perils of the wrecking wind.
Amidſt thy foes thy ſafety ſtill I plan'd,
And reach'd for galling chains the myrtle band:
Nor then unconſcious of the ſecret fire,
Each heart voluptuous throb'd with ſoft deſire:
[81]Ah pleaſing youth, kind object of my care,
Companion, friend, and ev'ry name that's dear!
Say, from thy mind canſt thou ſo ſoon remove
The records pencil'd by the hand of love?
How as we wanton'd on the flow'ry ground
The looſe-rob'd Pleaſures danc'd unblam'd around:
Till to the ſight the growing burden prov'd,
How thou o'ercam'ſt—and how, alas! I lov'd!
Too fatal proof! ſince thou, with av'rice fraught,
Didſt baſely urge (ah! ſhun the wounding thought!)
That tender circumſtance—reveal it not,
Leſt torn with rage I curſe my fated lot:
Leſt ſtartled Reaſon abdicate her reign,
And Madneſs revel in this heated brain:
That tender circumſtance—inhuman part—
I will not weep, tho' ſerpents gnaw this heart:
Frail, frail reſolve! while guſhing from mine eye
The pearly drops theſe boaſtful words belie.
Alas! can ſorrow in this boſom ſleep,
Where ſtrikes ingratitude her talons deep?
When he I ſtill adore, to nature dead,
For roſes plants with thorns the nuptial bed?
Bids from the widow'd couch kind Peace remove,
And cold Indiff'rence blaſt the bow'r of Love?
What time his guardian pow'r I moſt requir'd,
Againſt my fame and happineſs conſpir'd!
[82]And (do I live to breathe the barb'rous tale?)
His faithful YARICO expos'd to ſale!
Yes, baſely urg'd (regardleſs of my pray'rs,
Ev'n while I bath'd his venal hand with tears)
What moſt for pity call'd—I can no more—
My future child—to ſwell his impious ſtore:—
All, all mankind for this will riſe thy foe,
But I, alas! alone endure the woe:
Alone endure the feſt'ring hand of care,
The bleeding ſoul, and ſwoonings of deſpair,
Was it for this I left my native plain,
And dar'd the tempeſt brooding on the main?
For this unlock'd (ſeduc'd by Chriſtian art)
The chaſte affections of my virgin heart?
Within this boſom fan'd the conſtant flame,
And fondly languiſh'd for a mother's name?
Lo! every hope is poiſon'd in its bloom,
And horrors watch around this guilty womb.
With blood illuſtrious circling thro' theſe veins,
Which ne'er was chequer'd with plebeian ſtains,
Thro' anceſtry's long line ennobled ſprings,
From fame-crown'd warriors and exalted kings:
Muſt I the ſhafts of infamy ſuſtain?
To ſlav'ry's purpoſes my infant train?
[83]To catch the glances of his haughty lord?
Attend obedient at the feſtive board?
From hands unſcepter'd take the ſcornful blow?
Uproot the thoughts of glory as they grow?
Let this pervade at length thy heart of ſteel;
Yet, yet return, nor bluſh, Oh man! to feel:
Ah! guide thy ſteps from yon expecting fleet,
Thine injur'd YARICO relenting meet:
Bid her recline woe-ſtricken on thy breaſt,
And huſh her raging ſorrows into reſt:
Ah! let the youth that ſent the cruel dart,
Extract the point invenom'd from her heart:
The peace he baniſh'd from this mind recall,
And bid the tears he prompted ceaſe to fall.
Then while the ſtream of life is giv'n to flow,
And ſable hue o'erſpread this youthful brow;
Or curl untaught by art this woolly hair,
So long, ſo long to me ſhalt thou be dear.
Say, lovely youth, flow all my words in vain,
Like ſeeds that ſtrew the rude ungrateful plain?
Say, ſhall I ne'er regain thy wonted grace?
Ne'er ſtretch theſe arms to catch the wiſh'd embrace?
Enough—with new-awak'd reſentment fraught
Aſſiſt me, Heav'n! to tear him from my thought;
[84]No longer vainly ſuppliant will I bow,
And give to love what I to hatred owe;
Forgetful of the race from whence I came,
With woe acquainted, but unknown to ſhame.
Hence, vile dejection, with thy plaintive pray'r,
Thy bended knee, and ſtill deſcending tear:
Rejoin, rejoin the pale-complexion'd train—
The conflict's paſt—and I'm myſelf again.
Thou parent ſun! if e'er with pious lay
I uſher'd in thy world-reviving ray!
Or as thy fainter beams illum'd the weſt,
With grateful voice I hymn'd thee to thy reſt!
Beheld with wond'ring eye thy radiant ſeat,
Or ſought thy ſacred dome with unclad feet!
If near to thy bright altars as I drew,
My votive lamb, thy holy Flamen, ſlew!
Forgive! that I, irrev'rent of thy name,
Dar'd for thy foe indulge th' unhallow'd flame:
Ev'n on a Chriſtian laviſh'd my eſteem,
And ſcorn'd the ſable children of thy beam.
This poniard by my daring hand impreſt,
Shall drink the ruddy drops that warm my breaſt:
Nor I alone, by this immortal deed
From ſtav'ry's laws my infant ſhall be freed.
[85]And thou, whoſe ear is deaf to pity's call,
Behold at length thy deſtin'd victim fall;
Behold thy once-lov'd Nubian ſtain'd with gore,
Unwept, extended on the crimſon floor:
Theſe temples clouded with the ſhades of death,
Theſe lips unconſcious of the ling'ring breath:
Theſe eyes uprais'd (ere clos'd by Fate's decree)
To catch expiring one faint glimpſe of thee.
Ah! then thy YARICO forbear to dread,
My fault'ring voice no longer will upbraid,
Demand due vengeance of the pow'rs above,
Or, more offenſive ſtill, implore thy love.
IL LATTE: An ELEGY. Incipe, parve puer, riſu cognoſcere matrem.
[86]I.
YE fair, for whom the hands of Hymen weave
The nuptial wreath to deck your virgin brow,
While pleaſing pains the conſcious boſom heave,
And on the kindling cheek the bluſhes glow:
II.
Whoſe ſpotleſs ſoul contains the better dow'r,
Whoſe life unſtain'd full many virtues vouch,
For whom now Venus frames the fragrant bow'r,
And ſcatters roſes o'er th' expecting couch:
III.
To you I ſing.—Ah! ere the raptur'd youth
With trembling hand removes the jealous veil,
Where, long regardleſs of the vows of truth,
Unſocial coyneſs ſtamp'd th' ungrateful ſeal,
[87]IV.
Allow the poet round your flowing hair,
Cull'd from an humble vale, a wreath to twine,
To Beauty's altar with the Loves repair,
And wake the lute beſide that living ſhrine:
V.
That ſacred ſhrine! where female virtue glows,
Where ev'n the Graces all their treaſures bring,
And where the lily, temper'd with the roſe,
Harmonious contraſt! breathes an Eden ſpring:
VI.
That ſhrine! where Nature with preſaging aim,
What time her friendly aid Lucina brings,
The ſnowy nectar pours, delightful ſtream!
Where flutt'ring Cupids dip their purple wings:
VII.
For you who bear a mother's ſacred name,
Whoſe cradled offspring, in lamenting ſtrain,
With artleſs eloquence aſſerts his claim,
The boon of nature, but aſſerts in vain:
[88]VIII.
Say why, illuſtrious daughters of the great,
Lives not the nurſling at your tender breaſt?
By you protected in his frail eſtate?
By you attended, and by you careſs'd?
IX.
To foreign hands, alas! can you reſign
The parent's taſk, the mother's pleaſing care?
To foreign hands the ſmiling babe conſign?
While Nature ſtarts, and Hymen ſheds a tear.
X.
When 'mid the poliſh'd circle ye rejoice,
Or roving join fantaſtic Pleaſure's train,
Unheard perchance the nurſling lifts his voice,
His tears unnotic'd, and unſooth'd his pain.
XI.
Ah! what avails the coral crown'd with gold?
In heedleſs infancy the title vain?
The colours gay the purfled ſcarfs unfold?
The ſplendid nurs'ry, and th'attendant train?
[89]XII.
Far better hadſt thou firſt beheld the light,
Beneath the rafter of ſome roof obſcure;
There in a mother's eye to read delight,
And in her cradling arm repoſe ſecure. —
XIII.
Nor wonder, ſhould Hygeia, bliſsful Queen!
Her wonted ſalutary gifts recall,
While haggard Pain applies his dagger keen,
And o'er the cradle Death unfolds his pall.
XIV.
The flow'ret raviſh'd from its native air,
And bid to flouriſh in a foreign vale,
Does it not oft elude the planter's care,
And breathe its dying odors on the gale?
XV.
For you, ye plighted fair, when Hymen crowns
With tender offspring your unſhaken love,
Behold them not with Rigor's chilling frowns,
Nor from your ſight unfeelingly remove.
[90]XVI.
Unſway'd by Faſhion's dull unſeemly jeſt,
Still to the boſom let your infant cling,
There banquet oft, an ever-welcome gueſt,
Unblam'd inebriate at that healthful ſpring.
XVII.
With fond ſolicitude each pain aſſuage,
Explain the look, awake the ready ſmile;
Unfeign'd attachment ſo ſhall you engage,
To crown with gratitude maternal toil:
XVIII.
So ſhall your daughters in affliction's day,
When o'er your form the gloom of age ſhall ſpread,
With lenient converſe chaſe the hours away,
And ſmoothe with Duty's hand the widow'd bed:
XIX.
Approach, compaſſionate, the voice of grief,
And whiſper patience to the cloſing ear;
From comfort's chalice miniſter relief,
And in the potion drop a filial tear.
[91]XX.
So ſhall your ſons, when beauty is no more,
When fades the languid luſtre in your eye,
When Flatt'ry ſhuns her dulcet notes to pour,
The want of beauty, and of praiſe, ſupply:
XXI.
Ev'n from the wreath that decks the warrior's brow,
Some choſen leaves your peaceful walks ſhall ſtrew:
And ev'n the flow'rs on claſſic ground that blow,
Shall all unfold their choiceſt ſweets for you.
XXII.
When to th' embattled hoſt the trumpet blows,
While at the call fair Albion's gallant train
Dare to the field their triple-number'd foes,
And chaſe them ſpeeding o'er the frighten'd plain:
XXIII.
The mother kindles at the glorious thought,
And to her ſon's renown adjoins her name;
For, at the nurt'ring breaſt, the [...]ero caught
The love of virtue, and the love of fame.
[92]XXIV.
Or in the ſenate when Britannia's cauſe
With gen'rous themes inſpires the glowing mind,
While liſt'ning Freedom grateful looks applauſe,
Pale Slav'ry drops her chain, and ſculks behind:
XXV.
With conſcious joy the tender parent fraught,
Still to her ſon's renown adjoins her name;
For, at the nurt'ring breaſt, the patriot caught
The love of virtue, and the love of fame.
FINIS.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4588 Poems on various subjects Viz The nunnery The magdalens The nun Ruins of an abbey Yarico to Inkle Il latte fugitive pieces By Mr Jerningham. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-604F-0