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THE CONTEMPLATIST: A NIGHT PIECE.
BY J. CUNNINGHAM.
AH QUANTUM EST IN REBUS INANE! PERSIUS.
LONDON: Printed for H. PAYNE and W. CROPLEY, at Dryden's-Head, in Pater-Noſter-Row. M.DCC.LXII.
[Price Six-pence]
THE CONTEMPLATIST: A NIGHT PIECE.
[1]I.
THE nurſe of CONTEMPLATION, Night,
Begins her balmy reign;
Advancing, in their varied light,
Her ſilver-veſted train.
II.
'Tis ſtrange, the many marſhall'd ſtars,
That ride yon ſacred round,
Should keep, among their rapid cars,
A ſilence ſo profound!
[2]III.
A kind, a philoſophic calm,
The cool creation wears!
And what Day drank of dewy balm,
The gentle Night repairs.
IV.
Behind their leafy curtains hid
The feather'd race how ſtill!
How quiet, now, the gameſome kid
That gamboll'd round the hill!
V.
The ſweets, that bending o'er their banks,
From ſultry Day declin'd,
Revive in little velvet ranks,
And ſcent the weſtern wind.
[3]VI.
The Moon, preceded by the breeze
That bade the clouds retire,
Appears, amongſt the tufted trees,
A Phoenix-neſt on fire.
VII.
But ſoft—The golden glow ſubſides!
Her chariot mounts on high!
And now, in ſilent pomp ſhe rides,
Pale regent of the ſky!
VIII.
Where TIME, upon the wither'd tree
Hath carv'd the moral chair,
I ſit, from buſy paſſions free,
And breath the temper'd air.
[4]IX.
The wither'd tree was once in prime;
Its branches brav'd the ſky!
Thus, at the touch of ruthleſs TIME
Shall Youth and Vigour die.
X
I'm lifted to the blue expanſe:
It glows ſerenely gay!
Come SCIENCE, by my ſide, advance,
To ſearch the Milky Way.
XI.
Let us deſcend — The daring flight
Fatigues my feeble mind;
And SCIENCE, in the maze of light,
Is impotent, and blind.
[5]XII.
What are thoſe wild, thoſe wand'ring fires,
That o'er the moorland ran?
Vapours. How like the vague deſires
That cheat the heart of MAN!
XIII.
But there's a friendly guide! — a flame,
That lambent o'er its bed,
Enlivens, with a gladſome beam,
The hermits oſier ſhed.
XIV.
Amongſt the ruſſet ſhades of night,
It glances from afar!
And darts along the duſk; ſo bright,
It ſeems a ſilver ſtar!
[6]XV.
In coverts, (where the few frequent)
If VIRTUE deigns to dwell;
'Tis thus, the little lamp CONTENT,
Gives luſtre to her cell.
XVI.
How ſmooth that rapid river ſlides,
Progreſſive to the deep;
The poppies pendent o'er its ſides
Have charm'd the waves to ſleep.
XVII.
PLEASURE'S intoxicated ſons!
Ye indolent! ye gay!
Reflect — for as the river runs,
Life wings its tractleſs way.
[7]XVIII.
That branching grove of duſky green,
Conceals the azure ſky;
Save, where a ſtarry ſpace between,
Relieves the darken'd eye.
XIX.
Old ERROR, thus, with ſhades impure,
Throws ſacred TRUTH behind:
Yet, ſometimes, through the deep obſcure,
She burſts upon the mind.
XX.
Sleep, and her ſiſter Silence reign—
They lock the Shepherds fold!
But hark—I hear a lamb complain,
'Tis loſt upon the wold!
[8]XXI.
To ſavage herds, that hunt for prey,
An unreſiſting prize!
For having trod a devious way,
The little rambler dies.
XXII.
As luckleſs, is the virgin's lot
Whom pleaſure once miſguides,
When hurried from the halcyon cot
Where INNOCENCE preſides—
XXIII
The Paſſions, a relentleſs train!
To tear the victim run:
She ſeeks the path of peace in vain,
Is conquer'd — and undone.
[9]XXIV.
How bright the little inſects blaze,
Where willows ſhade the way;
As proud, as if their painted rays
Could emulate the Day!
XXV.
'Tis thus, the pigmy ſons of pow'r
Advance their vain parade!
Thus, glitter in the darken'd hour,
And like the glow-worms fade!
XXVI.
The ſoft ſerenity of night,
Ungentle clouds deform!
The ſilver hoſt that ſhone ſo bright,
Is hid behind a ſtorm!
[10]XXVII.
The angry elements engage!
An oak, (an ivied bower!)
Repells the rough winds noiſy rage,
And ſhields me from the ſhower.
XXVIII.
The rancour, thus, of ruſhing fate,
I've learnt to render vain:
For whilſt Integrity's her ſeat,
The ſoul will ſit ſerene.
XXIX.
A raven, from ſome greedy vault
Amidſt that cloiſter'd gloom,
Bids me, and 'tis a ſolemn thought!
Reflect upon the tomb.
[11]XXX.
The tomb! — The conſecrated dome!
The temple raiſed to PEACE!
The port, that to its friendly home,
Compells the human race!
XXXI.
Yon village, to the moral mind,
A ſolemn aſpect wears;
Where ſleep hath lull'd the labour'd hind,
And kill'd his daily cares:
XXXII.
'Tis but the church-yard of the Night;
An emblematic bed!
That offers to the mental ſight,
The temporary dead.
[12]XXXIII.
From hence, I'll penetrate, in thought,
The grave's unmeaſur'd deep;
And tutor'd, hence, be timely taught,
To meet my final ſleep.
XXXIV.
'Tis peace — (The little chaos paſt!)
The gentle moon's reſtor'd!
A breeze ſucceeds the frightful blaſt,
That through the foreſt roar'd!
XXXV.
The nightingale, a welcome gueſt!
Renews her wonted ſtrains;
And HOPE, (juſt wand'ring from my breaſt)
Her wonted ſeat regains.
[13]XXXVI.
Yes — When yon lucid orb is dark,
And darting from on high;
My ſoul, a more celeſtial ſpark,
Shall keep her native ſky.
XXXVII.
Fann'd by the little lenient breeze,
My limbs refreſhment find;
And moral rhapſodies, like theſe,
Give vigour to my mind.
XXXVIII.
Can the lewd orgies of your nights,
Ye ſons of rage, and wine!
Afford, amongſt your falſe delights,
An hour of Peace, like MINE!
FINIS.
Appendix A
[]Lately Publiſhed, (PRICE SIXPENCE)
AN ELEGY ON A PILE OF RUINS.
BY J. CUNNINGHAM.
[] [...]
- Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4669 The contemplatist a night piece By J Cunningham. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-6061-A