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CARISBROOK CASTLE
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THE ISLE of WIGHT, A POEM, In THREE CANTOS.
—Happy Iſle!
Like Heſperian gardens fam'd of old—
Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales.
Thrice happy Iſle!
MILTON.
ISLE OF WIGHT: Printed by J. MALLETT, and Sold by the Miſs WISE'S, and Mr. STURCH Bookſellers in NEWPORT, and Mr. ROBERT DEACON, of WEST-COWES, 1782.
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To thoſe GENTLEMEN and LADIES, Who occaſionally viſit the ISLAND, FOR HEALTH OR PLEASURE; And expreſs their ADMIRATION of its BEAUTIES: AND MORE PARTICULARLY TO THOSE, WHO ARE ITS STATED RESIDENTS, And honourably diſtinguiſhed, by Their HOSPITALITY and BENEVOLENCE, THIS POEM, IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY THE EDITOR.
THE ISLE of WIGHT, A POEM, IN THREE CANTOS.
[]CANTO, I.
THOU precious gem in nature's boſom plac'd,
With all her bounty, all her beauty grac'd;
Thou model of her wond'rous vaſt deſign,
Where all her wiſdom, all her grace combine
To make, in miniature, her greatneſs ſhow
The Almighty architect confeſs'd below;
[vi]Complete epitome, for ever ſtand
The perfect maſter piece of wiſdom's hand,
To ſtrike the aſtoniſh'd eye, to charm the ſoul,
Another paradiſe ſo near the pole!
In nature's arms embrac'd her ſtore deſign'd,
Where all extremes ſucceſſive fill the mind,
Where all the north can ſhake with his rude arm,
Where all the ſouth can ſooth, can gently warm,
Alternate threaten, and alternate charm.
Thou little world, divided from the great,
Where pleaſure ſports, and plenty rules in ſtate,
Where nature in her richeſt robe is dreſs'd;
Tranſparent robe! diſtinguiſh'd from the reſt:
Thy ſummer mantle, o'er the mountains thrown,
That blue aetherial gauze in Eden known,
Adorns thy hills, thy vallies, and thy ſhore,
And tho' it ſeems to hide, reveals thee more.
Thy ſummers revel with ſereneſt pride,
Thy ſilver ſeas roll murmuring near thy ſide,
The ſmootheſt ſeas thy peaceful ſhores now lave,
And Halcyons ſlumber on thy ſliding wave;
Ceres and Flora bleſs thy teeming vales,
And load, with fragrance ſweet, the paſſing gales;
[vii]Far off on Ocean's ſmiling face they play,
And thy rich treaſures to the pole convey;
Thy fragrant breath now lulls the enamour'd deep,
All nature's paſſions on her ſurface ſleep;
Thy cryſtal firmament now ſhines ſerene
Around the ſilver throne of night's pale queen;
Whoſe golden gems with living luſtre glow,
Reflected from the liquid glaſs below,
A mimic heaven in that bright mirror lives,
That mocks the true, yet all its ſplendor gives;
Here bounteous nature to her purpoſe true,
Beſtows her beauty and her picture too:
Her picture here ſhe muſt with pride ſurvey,
Her ſmiling likeneſs in its beſt array.
Lo white inverted rocks up-grown with green,
Their waving verdure in the ocean ſeen;
The downward trees with gentle bendings move,
Obedient to the gale, that breath of love,
Soft whiſp'ring to the trembling leaves above;
The magic picture charms the gazer's eye,
That ſeems to mingle with the ſtars and ſky;
The ſtars and ſky their mimic luſtre lend,
And with the rocks and verdure ſeem to blend;
[viii]The ſtars and ſky their mimic luſtre lend,
And with the rocks and verdure ſeem to blend;
Where pleaſing ſhadowy ſhapes ſerene and pure,
In darkneſs viſible, in light obſcure,
With doubtful certainty inchant the ſight,
Like the dim neutral duſk that mingles day with night.
WHAT inbred raptures in my boſom ſwell
When on the inchanting ſcene I ſilent dwell;
Abſtracted from myſelf ſtill more and more,
The viſion I revere, the ſcene adore;
Where truth and fiction all their charms reveal,
And ſenſe and fancy at their feaſt regale:
Where bribed reaſon banquets on the cheat,
And judgment triumphs in the wiſe deceit:
Gay fancy here her flattering medium proves,
Like each fond fallacy in life ſhe loves;
Where oft appearance mocks the ſanguine view,
And falſe attractives pleaſe as well as true.
DELIGHTED nature o'er this iſland dwells,
And to the deep her joyful ſtory tells;
The deep returns it to the azure ſpace,
And earth, and heaven, and ocean, here embrace.
[ix]
HERE day and night in ſweet ſucceſſion vie,
Here ſpring and autumn glide melodious by;
The earlieſt harbingers that lead the year,
Sweet Philomela tunes her note firſt here;
Firſt here her tuneful note begins to ſwell,
And here ſhe takes her mournful ſweet farewell;
The primroſe here and ſwallow firſt are ſeen,
And here the groves put on their earlieſt green;
Here fragrant gales firſt fan the teeming groves,
Here little birds begin their vernal loves;
Here zephyrs wave at firſt the vigorous wing,
Here handmaid Nature decks the full-rob'd ſpring;
The ſummer loiters here with lagging grace,
And late, reluctant, yields to autumn place;
The tardy autumn pauſing long, gives Way,
And mourns the twilight keen, the ſhrinking day;
The ſhatter'd goſſomer, the ſtripping wind,
And, ſighing, leaves his ruſſet robe behind.
Now winter in his turn aſſerts his reign,
And frowns upon the long untroubled main;
With bluſtering breath he bids the billows roll;
And ſends the ſtormy meſſage to the pole;
[x]Awakes the winds, and bids them ſudden roar
Around the yelling rocks and hollow ſhore;
With dignity diſturbs the ſcene; lo, then,
With noble terror ſhakes the ſouls of men:
Now Neptune's haughty ſurge inſults the walls,
Flies o'er the roof and in the midland falls;
Above the rocks, theſe fighting whirlpools tower
The lofty rocks, and fall a miſty ſhower,
Like ſmoke from hot Bellona's bowels fly,
Darken the earth and intercept the ſky;
Now night with her black robe invelops all,
Now horror hides the loud beleaguer'd ball.
With grandeur here wild winter roars around,
Here echoing hills and rocks repeat the ſound;
In harmony made grateful to the ear,
That ſtrikes with majeſty and awes with fear;
With pride the bold inhabitants endure
The ſtorm magnificent; themſelves ſecure:
Triumphant here they hug their bliſsful lot,
And all this hoſtile rage is ſoon forgot.
NOT ſo where India's ſun ſeverely ſhines
On diamond quarries deep on golden mines;
[xi]To ripen miſchief with his burning ray,
And bring theſe earth-born evils forth to day;
Here toiling ſlaves their time, their life employ,
For what themſelves nor we can ne'er enjoy.
Oh madding mortals! ſpare your mother! ſpare!
Nor wounded nature to her vitals tare:
In queſt of gold you cleave the groaning ground,
Whilſt earth's deep center trembles at the wound;
Why dig ſo deep? why frenzy's thirſt improve?
Since all that wiſdom wants o'erflows above:
Here nature's fever unabating glows,
The ſcorching year no intermiſſion knows:
No friendly interval the wretch can find,
No gentle jubilee, no cooling wind;
No near expected change, no genial ſprings,
The tyger tears him, or the ſcorpion ſtings.
THRICE happy Britain, born in nature's prime,
Thou queen of nations, happy in thy clime;
Thy ſeaſons moderate, as thy laws, appear,
Thy conſtitution wholeſome as the year;
Well pois'd, and pregnant in thy annual round
With wiſdom, where no fierce extreme is found;
[xii]Where Britiſh wiſdom copies nature's law,
And mingles mildneſs oft with ſtate and awe;
Where ſtrength and freedom in their prime prevail,
And wealth comes wafted on each freighted gale;
Where commerce lifts her flag with mighty hand,
And waves it round the world with wide command;
The willing world thy matchleſs flag explores,
Ten thouſand veſſels from ten thouſand ſhores,
With haſty keels, obey thy wide command,
Stretch o'er thy ſeas, and ruſh upon thy ſtrand;
See! ſeel with ſhips the labouring ocean heave,
A different nation crowns each different wave:
The tribute of the globe to Britain ſent,
That dreaded queen of all the Continent.
What floating foreſts whitening to the eye,
Their different ſtreamers as they draw more nigh,
In various colours deck'd, in different mode
Diſplay their treaſure, king, and lov'd abode.
From India, eaſt and weſt, ſee! ſee! what ſhoals
From Europe's regions and the diſtant poles,
With amorous haſte how emulous they meet
To pour their treaſures at Britannia's feet;
When here they pauſe, this precious ſpot behold,
They look with ſcorn upon their gems and gold;
[xiii]Medina's ſhore with raptures they ſurvey,
And loſe the labours of the lengthen'd way;
Each danger now is joyfully forgot,
Each toil o'erpaid by this delicious ſpot.
MEDINA * hail! nor my weak verſe refuſe,
Thou ſubject worthy of a Milton's muſe;
His muſe improv'd by ſuch a theme would be,
His own rich Eden might compare with thee;
Oh long unſung! Oh argument divine!
And ſhall at length the glorious taſk be mine!
That taſk deſcend to my inferior hand!
Leaſt—not leaſt zealous of the tuneful band,
I feel my fancy kindle in the view,
And raptur'd as ſhe leads, the theme purſue.
THE aſtoniſh'd muſe muſt, ſtand at ſilent gaze,
Scarce knowing where to chooſe, or what to praiſe,
Amidſt a crowded galaxy ſo bright,
Where every object yields ſupreme delight;
A group ſo grateful to the ſight and ſoul,
O'erwhelms the heart, and muſt the mind controul.
[xiv]
YON beauteous hill by artleſs art embrac'd,
Where ruſſet plainneſs wears the robe of taſte;
That nobly o'er the wide-ſpread landſkip reigns,
Above the extended ſtrand and watry plains,
Invites the muſe with ſweet majeſtic mien,
To climb the ſummit and enjoy the ſcene;
Words would but wrong the wonder and amaze
That in an inſtant fix'd me all to gaze;
In ſilent raptures I ſome moments ſtand,
Charm'd with each object that adorns the land;
Fix'd to the ſpot, * and ſpeechleſs with ſurprize,
At ſuch a vaſt expanſe of ſea and ſkies;
Of woods, of vallies, and of blue-rob'd hills,
The groupe with extaſy my boſom fills;
Each faculty but wonder I lay by,
Tranſported in the twinkling of an eye;
By nature's utmoſt boaſt expanded wide,
Her utmoſt beauty and her utmoſt pride,
The gorgeous ſhips ſee glide promiſcuous by,
That ſtrike with harmony the raviſh'd eye;
Their form, their faſhions, and their ſhining ſides,
That glitter in the ſun, and gild the tides;
Their flying ſtreamers and their pregnant ſails,
That court the eye and gather all the gales;
[xv]
In ſcant perſpective now at diſtance ſhine,
Now ſweeping nearer to the banks incline,
In all their out-ſpread grandeur full confeſs'd,
As if for ſome ſolemnity they dreſs'd;
Their beauteous, fabrics in the watry glaſs,
Saluting ſtill this ſummit as they paſs;
Their ſtreamers and their ſails they glad diſplay
With pleaſing triumph and with proud delay,
Still traverſing in labyrinths the deep,
Whilſt all their order and their courſes keep;
Oppoſing now they meet, now loſe, now gain,
Now ſome the harbour ſeek, now ſome the main:
The tall firſt rates their towering ſplendors ſhow,
And look ſuperior on the crowd below;
Harmonious to the guiding helm they ſail,
Whilſt voices oft and muſic crown the gale;
So when Britannia's matchleſs dames unite
Their ſhining charms on George's natal night,
Like conſtellations gliding in the dance;
With mixed modes ſerene they now advance;
Now ſtately turn with meaſur'd ſtep around
In mazes ſweet, obedient to the ſound;
[xvi]The coy profile ſee frugal now addreſs'd,
Now the full face, now beauteous form confeſs'd,
With various attitudes they graceful ſway,
With various charms, and bear the ſoul away.
My praiſe on truth, not fiction's wing would riſe,
Whilſt gratitude my want of wit ſupplies;
Reſpect, not pride, provokes my muſe to ſoar,
As wrens, like eagles, may the ſun explore.
END OF THE FIRST CANTO.
CANTO II.
[]Figure 1. NEEDLE ROCKS.
[]
NOW wafted ſlowly by the indented ſhore,
With panting heart the * needles we explore,
Nor feel the kind digreſſions on the way,
The beckoning welcome that invite our ſtay;
From banks from buildings and from ſmiling groves,
Or gently riſing hills that Caeres loves,
No neighbouring charms attract th'impatient ſight,
By diſtant wonders drawn and dread delight;
Foreſtalling Neptune at each ſturdy ſtroke,
The Wind and Tide with paſſion we provoke;
Accuſing time and ſtraining for yon rock,
From his long pauſing pole we tear the lock;
Such throbbing fervours fill'd our hearts the while
To reach this wonder of Medina's Iſle:
[xviii]The breeze at length and Neptune hears our prayer,
And quick recoiling ſhore our ſpeed declare.
See backward now the Norman * foreſt glide,
See Hurſt's ſtrong Caſtle rooted in the Tide,
And now the Ocean opens to our eyes,
See ſhips like clouds from out the offing riſe;
The Needles now with dawning gleams appear
Like the grey glimpſes when the morn is near,
That whiter grows as Boreas mends the breeze,
Their bluiſh mantle fading by degrees;
Is vaniſh'd now, the rocks are now expreſs'd,
And beauty ſtands before us all undreſs'd,
With tempting Majeſty ſerene yet coy,
That damps at once, at once provokes our joy,
Conceding gradual with a placid mien,
Where grandeur mixt with gentleneſs is ſeen;
Where both agree with wide extended arms
To claſp the gazer to their mingled charms;
[xix]The verdent velvet robe is caſt above,
As needleſs in the naked taſk of love,
See! ſee! how fancy on that bed is caught
With all that Iris in her webb hath wrought;
Where all the tints that in her loom delight
On yonder bank, ſalute the raptur'd ſight;
The rainbow's radiance and commingled ray
In ſhining ſtrata of refulgent clay,
Seem emulous of that which reigns on high,
Here Earth contends with beauties of the Sky;
Th' inchanting ſlope with ſweet attraction draws,
The eager heart, and yet it's ardour awes,
As conſcious of ſome wondrous ſcene behind
That with prodigious grandeur damp the mind;
By ſome prophetic energy impreſt
That from this ſpecimen concludes the reſt;
And lo! the outguards *, fix'd that boldly brave
The ſtorm indignant and the advancing wave;
In hoſtile wiſe with ſharpen'd ſpears they ſtand
Amid the floods, at nature's great command;
In poſtures changing as we draw more near,
Like watchful warriors, old implanted there,
[xx]That face us various as we winding go,
And challenge ſtill, and ſtill arreſt the foe:
But ſee Lot's wife §, for fame has call'd her ſo,
With ſtately ſtature and with robes that flow
Majeſtic, lofty, l [...]ke ſome ſea born Queen,
Adjuſt her treſſes in the mirror green,
Her treſſes there aſſume the nobleſt forms,
The rocks her toilet, and her comb the ſtorms;
Her faſhions are put on by nature's hand,
And curls in characters unchanged ſtand,
Now ſwallow'd up with greatneſs, fear and joy,
Let taſte and wonder all the ſoul employ,
Lo! nature's hand hath here enormous wrought
Beyond the graſp of ſenſe, the reach of thought;
Here awe ſtruck reaſon muſt in ſilence pauſe,
Lay down her ſcepter and ſuſpend her laws,
Unable on her gradual ſteps to climb
The dreadful ſummit of this vaſt ſublime:
How all impreſſions of the mind are chang'd!
The heart diſtended and the head derang'd,
The height above the wave fatigues the eye,
For the ſtrain'd nerve can ſcarcely reach ſo high,
[xxi]Above the proudeſt pitch of Roman ſtyle,
Of Pompey's theatre, or Trajan's pile;
This awful edifice commands the waves,
By nature built, the boiſterous billow braves;
The God of ocean here his palace keeps.
And ſends his mandates o'er the diſtant deeps
The voice in eddies through the cliff is toſt,
And all the ſenſe in half the ſpace is loſt;
In half the ſpace is mingled with the air,
By echo's force annihilated there.
Hark! how the thunders of the exploding gun,
That oft in loud prolific mazes ſtun
The ear, beget a thouſand vollies as they run;
Whilſt over head the concave ſeems alive;
Like bees in millions ſwarming from the hive;
The ſea birds darken all the living ſpace,
That look no larger than the inſect race,
That wheel around, diſturb'd with clamours call,
Or fall transfix'd, increaſing as they fall:
Now whirling nearer to the impatient eye,
They daſh upon the wave and daſhing die:*
[xxii]The billows bowing with profoundeſt ſweep,
Would pay their homage to the amazing ſteep,
With grandeur rolling as they lofty climb,
For every incident muſt be ſublime,
Now! now! through Galileo's orb we ſpy
Theſe ſtartled millions in their ranks on high,
In ſtories rais'd with agitated breaſts
Before the portals of their guarded neſts;
Tier above tier conſulting in a fright,
As erſt the Roman capitol by night;
How ſweetly through the telleſcope they ſhew
Their crimſon heads erect, and breaſts of ſnow!
In motion much diſturb'd, with troubled mind,
Like roſes ruffl'd by the invading wind;
Till ſcar'd again no longer watch they keep,
But ſore aloft, or dive into the deep;
Or anxious flutter, flapping feebly ſpring
From wave to wave, upon the wounded wing.
AGAIN we gaze, again the ſoul we fill,
Here all her faculties are feaſted ſtill,
With true magnificence ſublime and rare,
And ſee a thouſand gueſts the banquet ſhare;
[xxiii]A fleet of barks impatient preſſing nigh
To view theſe wonders, and the needles eye,
Till ſated with delight through that they ſail,
And give their canvaſs to the unwilling gale.
Now round the iſland's rocky ſides we row,
Thoſe towering rocks that like ſtrong ramparts grow,
That firm againſt the gallic inroads ſtand,
Theſe bulwarks rais'd by nature's hoſtile hand,
That like the line of beauty waving riſe
In lofty labyrinths to meet the ſkies;
That awful frown, with overlooking pride,
Upon the ſubject beach and guarded tide;
With ruſtic odours deck'd and high hung bloom,
That all the rocks array, the ſhores perfume;
Where grandeur ſwells along the ſounding length,
Where fear with joy and beauty blends with ſtrength;
Extatic bliſs! now ſummer crowns the ſpace;
Like melted ſilver ſee the ocean's face;
Lo rapture triumphs through the glad expanſe,
See glittering ſun beams on the ſurface dance,
Like nature's courtiers on ſome feſtal day
When calms conſent and Phoebus weds the ſea;
[xxiv]The ſeaſon now with tranſport charms the eye,
And nature ſhifts the ſcene as we ſail by,
On every varying rock we fix the ſight,
The rock behind affords ſome new delight;
Thus in ſome ſpace by genius made alive,
Some gallery where art and nature ſtrive,
Where wonders breathe along the living wall
And figures from the ceiling ſeem to fall;
Detatch'd by art, the force of ſhade and light,
That menace from on high th' amazed ſight;
In rounded groupes ſucceſſive ſtill we view
Superior wonders, and theſe wonders new;
From form to form with wonder we ſurvey
The magic labours of the maſſy way;
The ſwelling figures and the ſhining coaſt,
Till in the vaſt variety we're loſt;
Now echo empreſs of the cavern'd ſpace,
Returns our muſic with a rich increaſe,
Our hearts beat time, we quaff th' inchanting gales,
We pity LEWIS and we ſcorn VERSAILLES;
The ſleeping ſurface unperceiv'd we plow,
For time and ſpace have loſt their meaſure now:
[]
Figure 2. COWES CASTLE
[xxv]
Till STEEPHILL'S, § bending cliffs their pride diſplay,
And point the paradiſe at UNDERWAY †;
Attention now begins once more to riſe,
And ſated raptures yield to new ſurpriſe;
Now! now! an aggregate unſeen before,
Of new rais'd wonders mantle all the ſhore;
A miſcellania fix'd and firm as fate,
Of all that's beautiful of all that's great;
Where all that nature to her children gives,
Where health with plenty and enjoyment lives;
Where elegance aſcends th' enormous ſteep,
With verdant robe, and ſhades the diſtant deep;
Here nature triumphs in her guarded ground,
And fortifies the envy'd ſhores around;
In angles, baſtions, and in platforms caſt,
That ape the preſent and excel the paſt,
[xxvi]Work above work like theatres they climb,
With mirtle crown'd, with wormwood and wild thyme;
In mingled climax dubious they advance,
That look like order now and now like chance:
The ambitious cliff the cryſtal vault invades,
Refreſh'd by guſhing ſprings and clear caſcades,
That murmuring down the craggy falls we hear,
And feaſt the fancy through the aſtoniſh'd ear;
The impatient fancy throbs for new delight,
And now ſhe banquets through the raviſh'd ſight;
The rivulets ſee ruſhing from on high,
That give ſuch pleaſure to the ear and eye,
That through the grottos, rocks and gardens glide,
And the glad ſoul with ſweet extreams divide;
Extreams that with ſuch grand confuſion ſhine,
Like chaos now and now a plan divine;
How nature varies through the concave wide!
And riots wanton with enormous pride!
Behold a wall, by nature's potent hand,
Aloft, o'er all th' extended out-works ſtand!
Like centinels the extended out-works ſhew,
To watch the motion of the flood below;
[xxvii]In looſe light troops the vagrant rocks appear,
On wild excurſion ſcatter'd here and there;
Whilſt all around within the intrenched ſpace,
See pleaſure, bloom and plenty mixt with grace;
From pendant plots ſee nodding Caeres ſend
The pregnant ears that with the breezes bend;
Their pondrous growth amidſt the rocks on high,
And with their tawny tinges charm the eye;
There golden plenty on her throne is ſeen
And all the lawns pay homage to their queen;
In [...]ributes array'd by wiſdom's hands
Above the proſtrate laws of vulgar lands;
With majeſty the wheaten groves appear,
That look like prodigies implanted there:
From forth the furrow rich the leveret ſee,
Come hopping forward with exulting glee;
Fearleſs of hounds, a ſtranger to the cry,
In full ſecurity he feeds on high;
The pheaſants here with happy freedom roam,
From brake to brake amidſt their native home;
With peaceful leiſure unalarm'd they ſpring
From tree to tree, and wave the golden wing;
[xxviii]The lark, the thruſh, in loves ſweet concerts call
Their mates, among the murmuring rills that fall
From rock to rock, whilſt echo anſwers all:
Can Britiſh taſte the raptur'd ſcene forego,
Where Piſgah's ſprings and Eden's fountains flow;
Where nature's nobleſt growths the rocks adorn
With oaks, with herbage and Sicilian corn;
Where all the marvellous to mankind gives,
With meek ſimplicity and order lives;
Where health upon the hills the heart regales,
And plenty wantons in the laughing vales;
Where Epic compoſition ſeems to climb
Like Homer's Illiads, to the laſt ſublime;
Where native grandeur reigns through every part,
And looks with pity down on labouring art:
What cultivated plans ſhould here ariſe?
What ſtately columns glitter in the ſkies?
What rich rotundas on the rocks ſhould ſhine!
By Stanhope rais'd, and Stuart's * hand divine;
Mecaenas and Vitruvius here ſhould tell
Where taſte ſhould flouriſh and where worth ſhould dwell;
When ſummer's ardent ſuns intenſely preſs
To thoughtful coverts, and to cool receſs,
[xxix]Her grand campania, Britain, here ſhould keep,
Here wiſdom ſhould awake and faction ſleep;
Ambition here from racking dreams ſhould reſt,
And envy quell the fury in her breaſt;
In pureſt worth the patriot here ſhould pride,
And fling the foibles of the ſoul aſide;
Pure virtue here with nature ſhould remain,
And ſcience o'er the peaceful province reign;
The ſons of genius here ſhould haſty throng,
The ſons of picture and the ſons of ſong;
Here STUBBS and REYNOLDS ſhould enrich their ſtore,
Here WILSON warm, and BARRETT ſhine ſtill more;
Hiſtoric WEST ſhould here inform the glade,
Here ſhips and rocks for WRIGHT are ready made;
Here GRAY, that moral nightingale, ſhould ſing,
And friendly GOLDSMITH prune the travell'd wing;
Soft MASON here might court the tragic queen
In Britiſh ſtrains, and raiſe the Attic ſcene;
Nay, AKENSIDE ſhould here didactic glow,
The faireſt attitudes of things to ſhew:
ARMSTRONG to rules of health here ſweet perſwade,
Diſpenſe his learning and deſtroy his trade;
Diſeaſes here on art but ſeldom call,
Unfear'd an agueiſh Spring, or ſickly fall.
[xxx]But ſhould the fiend in ſpite of nature's claim,
Dare to approach and ſhake the human frame;
* COWLAM'S or JOLLIFFE'S, or young BASSETT'S care,
Would ſoon the temporary ill repair,
Here SHARP his native note ſhould raptur'd raiſe,
In freedom's conteſt and in Vecta's praiſe:
His country's charms ſhould all his fancy fire,
Should all his virtue, all his verſe inſpire;
To truth attach'd, to patriot truth ſtill dear,
In action faithful and in word ſincere;
His happy talents at this mark ſtill aim,
On public worth, to build his private fame.
THRICE happy bard, in fortune's arms careſs'd,
By virtue ſhielded and by beauty bleſt;
Thy finiſh'd bliſs can feel no feign'd alloy,
The chaſte Cleora crowns thy perfect joy;
And ſee the pledges of your rapture riſe,
Like tendril vines beneath indulgent ſkies,
Whoſe genial dews call forth the branch to grow,
The bloom to brighten, and the bloſſom blow;
Whilſt time in ſeaſon ſhall the fruit diſplay,
With ripening bluſh, and your ſoft toil repay.
[xxxi]
On yon tall cliff, whoſe brows o'erlook the deep,
True taſte ſhall ſoon her poliſh'd manſion keep;
Thither ſhall connoiſſeurs in crowds repair,
Another TUSCULUM ſhall flouriſh there;
There Britiſh TULLYS, BACONS ſhall ariſe;
At once be happy and at once be wiſe;
There awful nature, civiliz'd by art,
Shall win at once the head and charm the heart;
There Greece and Rome ſhall deck the ample ſpace,
With HOMER'S grandeur and with VIRGIL'S grace;
The chizel and the pencil there ſhall ſtrive
To make the cieling and the walls alive;
The peopled canvaſs ſhall the ſight ſurprize,
And the rough rocks in human ſhapes ſhall riſe.
The beauteous ſavage ſhall with ſocial air
Another Athens on the hills appear,
That to the clouds her comely head ſhall raiſe,
And on her image in the ocean gaze;
The ocean at her feet ſhall ſilent ſleep,
And boaſt the picture in the poliſh'd deep;
The ſun unheeded in his prone decline,
We feaſt abſtracted on the ſcene divine;
And turning oft with pauſing fond delay,
We bid a ſweet farewell to Underway;
[xxxii]Whilſt deep engrav'd reflection long ſhall find,
The groupe immenſe within th' expanded mind,
Impreſs'd in images ſublime and fair,
Which mimic fancy oft retraces there;
O'er hills o'er vallies we alternate go,
Like baſons fill'd with gems the vallies ſhew;
With gardens rich, replete with Sylvan domes,
Where health and pleaſure keep their happy homes.
Again we climb the rich inviting hill,
Again the ſame glad ſcenes ſalute us ſtill;
That ſtill new tribute from our wonder claim,
Another paradiſe and yet the ſame;
Tho' ſtill enrich'd with ſomething grand and new,
Some rock in proſpect o'er the ocean blue;
Some ſtately ſteeple in it's ivy veſt,
By frolic time in different mantles dreſt
That like ſome gothic king by turrets crown'd,
Reigns o'er the farms and villages around;
Through farms and villages we joyful ride,
Where Britiſh Ceres in her Indian pride,
With ripening plenty loads the ſhelving field;
The reaper here can ſcarce his ſickle wield,
Incumber'd by the bleſſings thick at hand,
Of heaven's indulgence' and the fruitful land;
[xxxiii]The farmer views the oppreſſive crops with pride,
And bids his garners and his heart grow wide:
There Neptune's throne * attracts the ambitious eye,
That bears upon it's breaſt the incumbent ſky,
That all the greedy ſoul with tranſport fills
The boundleſs ocean and the ſky kiſs'd hills;
By turns ſollicit the divided ſight,
By turns amaze us, and by turns delight;
With arduous ſteps impatient now we climb,
With panting hearts we view the ſcene ſublime;
Where pleaſure meets with health, where both combine
To quaff the gale and view the amazing chine.
THE monarch of the main from his high car,
Beheld this proud phaenomenon from far;
Whoſe ſwelling cliffs their dubious heads advance,
Where nature ſeems to ſteal the ſketch from chance;
And art to mingle both with plaſtic hand,
So regularly wild theſe wonders ſtand,
In heterogeneous piles, that ſtrong impart
The grand coincidence of chance and art;
[xxxiv]The God of ocean ſaw this ſcene with pride,
And ruſhing haſty on a high ſpring tide;
The waves at once their monarch's voice obey,
The ſurge aſſaults the cliff, the cliff gives way;
His lifted trident with one ſtroke divine,
Cleaves the vaſt rock and forms the wond'rous chine:
A dread abrupt deep rends the groaning hill,
With yawn terrific, at great Neptune's will;
A thouſand ſtately forms their pride diſcloſe,
And groves and grottos in an inſtant roſe,
With copious caverns and with ſounding rills,
That all the echoing ſpace reſponſive fills:
The waves ruſh in, the winds exulting roar,
The ocean triumphs on the alter'd ſhore:
Then ſpoke the God who rules th' alternate tide,
Let all my vital virtues here preſide;
My healing eſſence in each wave abound,
Breathe in the air and brood upon the ground;
Let here diſeaſe within my boſom find,
Strength to the nerve and vigour to the mind;
Let thouſands here in thankful throngs reſort,
With votive offerings to my ſacred court:
[xxxv]Here, here high fix the tablet of their vows,
As at my other ſacred [...]ane at Cowes;
For here my court ſhall all the main command,
My trident here, and here my car ſhall ſtand;
My throne I'll raiſe on you celeſtial down,
There wield my ſcepter and there fix my crown;
END OF THE SECOND CANTO.
CANTO III.
[]AMID the monuments that mark this land,
Behold on high the lofty CARISBROOK ſtand,
At diſtance with ſurpriſe and pleaſure ſeen,
In Gothic attributes and warlike mien;
A witneſs there of crimes that long hath ſtood,
Of Britiſh crimes confeſs'd and Daniſh blood;
The mark of ſavage guilt and civil rage,
A monument of wrath from age to age.
What bloody battles near thy baſe were fought,
How dear the day and conquer'd field were bought;
Proud ſtory paints thy ſanguine deeds of yore,
Thy precipice o'er whelm'd with human gore;
Thy little world was ravag'd like the great,
Here time hath drawn the horrid ſcene of fate;
[xxxvii]Blind fortune here her various webb hath wrought,
Here ſavage Caeſars and rude Pompeys fought;
Such tragic woes were acted here of yore,
Which grief regrets, and time laments no more;
By dark oblivion in his liſt enroll'd,
But modern miſchiefs with a tear are told;
But let them paſs, let love reſer the ſtrain,
To peace, to plenty, and to George's reign;
Look round, ſee art and nature in their pride,
The neighbouring NEWPORT and the foreſt wide;
The royal foreſt rich with rural dies,
Beneath the caſtle's foot ſee Cariſbrook riſe;
Delightful village, mentioned oft by fame,
That to the lofty fortreſs gives it's name;
That ſeems to ſlide adown the adjacent hill,
The trees, the ſteeple and the houſes fill;
With pleaſing glad alternatives the ſight,
That mingle moral gloom with nature's light;
From fractur'd battlements and broken walls,
Where horror's curtain o'er the fancy falls.
But now the Sun, in all his Glory dreſt,
Beats fiercely with his rays upon my breaſt;
[xxxviii]To yon inviting arbour's cool retreat,
I'll turn and ſhield me from the oppreſſive heat,
And ſeated by MARIA'S * gentle ſtream,
Review my numbers, and admire my theme.
Here the gay Wood-bine hangs from every bough,
Her lucid drops and Jeſſmines pure as ſnow,
Have lined the green alcove; fit haunt for thoſe,
Who know the calm delights, the muſe beſtows:
Here peace and plenty dwell, nor care nor fear,
Nor bold intruding follies enter here:
Hail ye refreſhing ſhades; my boſom feels,
Your cheering pow'r, as from the fervid hills;
Faint I retire, my ſpirits flow again,
And genius pours new vigour thro' my ſtrain.
Oh! ſee what pleaſing landſcapes ſhine from far,
In contraſt to the rage of civil war;
A continent out ſpread to pleaſure's view;
For ever beautiful for ever new,
Where nature triumphs in her genial toil,
Who faſter can produce than war can ſpoil:
[xxxix]How plenty there with pleaſure joins the hand,
Smiles on the ſea and ſwells upon the land;
Lo! Aſhy Down, where angels oft might play,
As erſt at Eden in their bright array;
Appears at diſtance to the longing eye,
A paradiſe juſt fallen from the ſky:
Let down for innocence and joy to kiſs,
A ſtage of pleaſure, and a ſcene of bliſs;
Exulting there on high it joyful reigns,
O'er waving vallies and o'er wooded plains;
There ſweet variety the picture draws,
From nature's hand, that gives to art it's laws;
There art and nature in ſweet league combine,
On earth, producing images divine;
Such ſpecimens to ſenſe with rapture tell,
How beauty roſe e'er human nature fell.
Deſcending now the ſlopes that gently ſhow
Where NEWPORT † riſes on the plain below;
NEWPORT in decent character diſplay'd,
A wealthy dame in comely weeds array'd;
[xxxx]Serene and ſmiling at her happy ſtate,
By health, by plenty crown'd, content, not great;
The capital confeſs'd, where Ceres reigns,
With Indian plenty o'er MEDINA'S plains,
Where ſtretching from her weekly throne the hand,
She glads the vitals of Britannia's land;
Where navigation loiters on the tide,
To gaze on nature's charms, from ſide to ſide;
That plows with double appetite the flood,
For private pleaſure and for public good:
This other Thames whoſe banks with plenty ſmile,
This Thames in little, and this narrow Nile,
By nature's hand entic'd, by beauty led,
Along the windings of it's fruitful bed;
Equal to Nile and Thames for fertile grace,
It gains in beauty what it wants in ſpace;
The ſeaman raviſh'd by the hills and plains,
Purſues his pleaſure and forgets his gains;
The helm let go, he gazes all around,
He dreads no lurking rock or dangerous, ground;
Rich profit here and rapture hand in hand,
Allure each other and the ſoul command:
[xxxxi]The ſwelling bounty Neptune's chariot rides,
On teeming billows and alternate tides;
Lo! Whippingham-hill, the muſe muſt long command,
Fair object of the variegated land!
What mingled beauties ſtrike the raviſh'd ſight,
Here contemplation feels ſupreme delight;
Doats on the proſpect that it's ſummit ſhows,
While ſtretch'd around the purple harveſt glows;
And there the herd are at their eaſe reclin'd;
While ſee beneath the glaſſy river wind;
Yon clumps of trees that in perſpective bend,
A verdant amphitheatre extend;
The ſetting ray adds grandeur to the ſcene;
Plays o'er the Spire * and trembles on the green;
Sparkles thro' waving leaves mild luſtre round,
And gilds the atmoſphere's extremeſt bound.
Capacious COWES, thy hoſpitable port,
Where Neptune ſleeps, where ſafety holds her court;
Around thy ſleets it's ſtrong protection throws,
And ſtorms and tempeſts are in vain thy foes;
All nature's war within thy arms muſt ceaſe,
Thy ſheltering boſom is the throne of peace;
[xxxxii]Creation flings, her fences round thy ſhore,
And chaos, where they riſe, can rage no more;
The different winds that war in this agree,
To ſend by every ſtorm rich freights to thee;
Thy wide ſpread arms with univerſal grace,
Takes in the ſouth, the north at one embrace,
The eaſt, the weſt, with every part of ſpace;
Whilſt loaded ſhips, ſecurely come and go,
Nor heed the ſcanty ebb nor copious flow:
Here time and Neptune wait upon each bark,
Her pilot ſafety through the thickeſt dark;
To thy embrace through night's black cope they run,
Secure as lighted by the noon-day ſun;
Here Europe's terror and Britannia's pride,
The world's great terror, can with fafety ride;
Here George's thunder unprovok'd may ſleep,
Rock'd by the ſwellings of the ſubject deep;
On thy ſoft boſom peace may here repoſe,
Whilſt France and whirlwinds are in vain it's foes.
SEE ruddy health with naked boſom ſtand,
On yonder cliff, and wave the vigorous hand,
[xxxxiii]Above the banks, with florid cheeks that glow,
Pointing triumphant at the tide below †;
The pregnant tide with healing power replete,
Where health, where vigour, and where pleaſure meet:
Here ocean's breath comes mingled with the breeze,
And drives far off the bloated fiend, diſeaſe;
Here oceans balm the ſinking heart delights,
And drooping Britain to the ſhore invites;
His eſſence here ſhall energetic glow,
And health and ſpirits on her ſons beſtow;
Her beautious offspring on the bank ſhall ſmile
And bleſs the breezes of MEDINA'S iſle;
Here ocean's eſſence unpoluted reigns,
From nature's vitals and from Neptune's veins;
Here luſty health comes ruſhing day and night,
Unmix'd as truth and clear as morning light;
No foul infection mingles with the tide,
In healing virtue pure and virgin pride;
Along the tented ſhore ſhall beauty ſkim,
The boſom bright ſhall lave the lovely limb;
New kindled orbs ſhall ſtrike with ſweet ſurprize,
As ſtars relumin'd from the ocean riſe;
[xxxxiv]No more to foreign baths ſhall Britain roam,
But plunge at Cowes and find rich health at home:
Thither ſhall merit and ſhall beauty throng,
Proclaim it's worth and vindicate my ſong;
Through future times the raptur'd muſe can ſee,
What years unborn ſhall joyful bring to thee;
Thy crowded ports with trade ſhall rich run o'er,
And ſtately ſtructures glitter on thy ſhore;
The world ſhall find thee and with wonder tell,
That Vecta's ſhining ſcenes the world excel;
Thou precious cabinet where nature locks,
Her richeſt gems within thy beauteous rocks;
Thou caſket fill'd with all her choiceſt ſtore,
Of matter freely, but of fancy more;
The muſe prophetic ſhall thy bliſs foretel,
And on that theme with raptur'd note ſhall dwell:
Concord ſhall here aſſume the ſocial ſmile,
And envy fade and faction fly the iſle;
Friendſhip and virtue ſhall thy ſons unite,
Diſcord ſhall die and harmony delight;
Firm loyalty and truth ſhall bleſs the land,
And health ſhall crown, and Holmes * ſhall lead the band.
FINIS.
Notes
*
The Capital River in the I ſland, ſo called, it riſes in the South, and winding in a beautiful ſerpentine direction, diſcharges itſelf into Cowes Harbour, which divides the ſame nearly into equal hundreds; from thence, the one is called Eaſt, and the o⯑ther Weſt MEDINA.—This River is only navigable from Cowes to Newport.
*
Tie Downs leading to Freſhwater.
*
Thoſe celebrated Rocks ſo much admired at the Weſt end of the Iſle.
*
The new foreſt, oppoſite the Iſland, made by William the I. Duke of Normandy, in 1037, which he did meerly to promote his pleaſure, and was looked upon then, as one of the moſt intollerable and inexcuſable pieces of cruelty, that not only he himſelf, but every other PRINCE did; for be deſtroyed 36 Pariſh Churches, with the houſes and poſſeſſions of ſo many Townſhip, to make them habitations for wild beaſts.—But ſuch cruel and tyrannical acts the Editor does not mean to comment on, but only ſay that William Rufes his Son, and ſucceſſor to the crown, as he was hunting at Choring⯑ham, in the new foreſt, he ſtruck a deer lightly with an arrow, and ſtayed his horſe to look after the deer, holding his hands before his eyes, becauſe the ſun-beams dazled his ſight: another deer croſſing the way, Sir Walter Tirrell, a Norman, his kinſman, ſhoot⯑ing at it too careleſſly, or too ſteadily at the King, ſhot him full on the breaſt, and killed him the 2d. August 1100. SIR JOHN HAYWARD.
*
Detach'd Rocks that have thoſe appearances.
§
One of the Rocks ſo called formerly, but ſome Years ago gave way to a Tempeſt, as particularly deſcribed by Mr. STURCH, in his view of the Iſle of Wight, to which this is ſubmitted as no improper Companion.
*
Shooting the birds under the cliffs of Freſhwater is a frequent diverſion—It is deſcribed in the pamphlet before referred to with ſome humane reflections—The Editor attempts not to interpoſe an opinion on the practice, but the ſight of the cliffs and the vaſt number of birds, is truly one of nature's curioſities.
§
A beautiful Villa of the Honourable Mr. TOLLEMACHE.
†
The intermediate tract of land between STEEP-HILL cliffs, and the ſea ſhore, is ſo called by the in⯑habitants. —The cliffs are a wonderful production of nature, and wear the appearance of a regular wall, the bold deſign and effect of indefatigable art: They extend nearly four miles, and the vale below, is not only amazingly fertile, but ſo various in its form, and ſo interſperſed with rocks of groteſque ſhape, as the Poet has deſcribed it, that the wildly pleaſing and [...]uſt, are no where to be met with, in mure happy combination.— To give a complete idea of theſe perfections would require the united powers of Claude, Salvator, and Pouſſin.—The firſt ſhould throw his delicate ſunſhine over the cultivated fields, the ſcattered dots, and hanging coppices. The ſecond ſhould daſh out the horror of the rugged cliffs, ſteeps and ocean, while the grand pencil of Pouſſin, ſhould crown the whole with the majeſty of the impending mountains.—The Editor cannot help adding, that a walk by moon-light, (at which time the many waterfalls are heared in all their variety of ſounds) in this inchanting ſituation, opens a ſcene of ſuch delicate beauty, repoſe and ſolemnity, as exceeds all deſcription.
*
James Stuart, Eſq. commonly called Athaenian Stuart.
*
Gentlemen of eminent knowledge and diſtinction in the Medical line in Newport.
*
Commonly called Shanklin Chine.
*
CARISBROOKE River ſo called from the church above, being dedicated to the Virgin Mary.—The River which riſes about two Miles above the Village, and me⯑anders through the meads on the North-weſt ſide of Newport, is remarkable for the number of Mills upon it.—There being Seven of conſiderable conſequence, within a mile and a half. The ſeveral Ponds which are ſeen from the Hill, or break upon the Eye, in walking to the Caſtle, have a fine effect, and if their borders were more under the culture of taſte, would form patches of beauty to rival the moſt delicate ornaments of Piedmont.
†
Newport is the capital of the Iſland, and famous for it's prodigious Market of Wheat, the plentiful production it affords, of Poultry, Butter, &c. and above all, re⯑markable for the ſtriking figures it exhibits, of exquiſite female neatneſs, and enchant⯑ing beauty.
*
Whippingham Steeple.
†
Commodious and elegant Preparations are made there for the Benefit of Bathing in the Tides.
*
Leonard Troughear Holmes, Eſq. of Weſtover Lodge, Succeſſor to the late Lord Holmes, who died Governor of the Iſland, in 1764.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4008 The Isle of Wight a poem in three cantos. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5BB1-6