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THE LAND OF THE MUSES: A POEM, In the Manner of SPENSER.
WITH POEMS on ſeveral Occaſions.
By HUGH DOWNMAN, A.B.
EDINBURGH: Printed for the AUTHOR. Sold by A. KINCAID & J. BELL, Edinburgh; and by R. BALDWIN, and RICHARDSON & URQUHART, London. MDCCLXVIII.
[]
THE LAND OF THE MUSES: A POEM, In the Manner of SPENSER.
TO Dr THOMAS BLACKLOCK.
[]TO thee, to whom the equal hand of Heaven,
Though it depriv'd thee of external ſight,
The better graces of the mind has given,
Genius, and Learning's thews, and Judgement's light,
And Fortitude, mid undeſerved ills,
And wide-embracing Liberality,
Each thought humane which the ſweet boſom fills,
And decks the form of ſaintly Charity,
Theſe rhymes, all roughly woven, do I bear,
Which thee alone t' amuſe firſt framed were.
Flattery purſues the great; when thee I praiſe,
Who nought but thy good ſpirit haſt t'impart,
While Truth approves, deny not of my lays,
The guerdon, thy eſteem, and friendly heart.
PREFACE.
[]IF the author ſhould ſay, he did not heartily approve of compoſitions of this kind, or admire the conſtruc⯑tion of the ſtanza, or think the more highly of any per⯑ſon for clothing his thoughts in the phraſeology of Spenſer; it might be aſked, what induced him to write the following poem? and how he came to lay it before the public? As to the firſt queſtion, it owes its birth to accident alone. As to the ſecond, he frankly owns, that he flattered himſelf ſome merit would be found in it, independent of the uncouth manner and antiquated dreſs in which it was to appear: and this only he is ſenſible can juſtify the publication of it to a reader of taſte and diſcernment.
It may be proper perhaps juſt to mention the prior part of the fable, of which this is to be ſuppoſed a con⯑ſequence. In the 9th Canto of the 2d Book of the Fairy Queen, Guyon and Arthur journeying together, arrive at the caſtle of Alma, which they find beſieged by Malaeger and his crew, whom they engage, and put to the rout. They are courteouſly received by Alma, who ſhews them her caſtle. In the chamber of Memory they find two books, one called, The Briton Moniments; the other, The Antiquity of Fairy Lond; an account of theſe [] takes up the 10th Canto. In the 11th, Guyon departs on his adventures againſt the Bower of Bliſs, upon which the enemies of Alma, being emboldened, return to the ſiege. Arthur ſallies out againſt them, and after a ſe⯑vere engagement overcomes their chief, by ſqueezing him to death. His ſquire brings him back to the caſtle covered with wounds:
Where many grooms and ſquires ready were,
To take him from his ſteed full tenderly;
And eke the faireſt Alma met him there
With balm, and wine, and coſtly ſpicerie,
To comfort him in his infirmitie:
Eftſoons ſhe caus'd him up to be convey'd,
And of his arms deſpoiled eaſily;
In ſumptuous bed ſhe made him to be laid,
And all the while his wounds were dreſſing, by him ſtaid.
The Land of the MUSES: A POEM, In the Manner of SPENSER;
As if to be inſerted in the 2d Book of the FAIRY QUEEN, between the 11th and 12th Cantos.
[]ARGUMENT.
The Prince nigh cur'd of mortal ſtowers,
Alma to entertain,
Shows him Dan Phoebus' magick bowers,
Where the Nine Ladies reign.
I.
FOOLS they who vainly ween that Temperaunce
Her joyous ſweet amenities denies
To human kind, or looks with ſight aſcaunce
Whan they with liberal delights deviſe
Their ears to feed, or gratify their eyes;
Nothing ſhe bids witholden that behoves
Him to enſue who nould be dempt unwiſe,
All ſports, and rational pleaſaunce ſhe loves,
But hateth idle Luſt who ay at random roves.
[2]II.
When as the Prince, by faireſt Alma's care,
Was nigh recured of his woundez ſore,
Which he in hardy conflict had while-e'er
Endur'd, as gainſt thilke felon arms he bare,
But him ſubdued withouten ſword or ſpear;
As prudent Leaches all in this agree,
That mind and body are conjoined near,
Ne one without the other can be free,
She bent her thought to keep his mind in goodly gree.
III.
So ſeated by his ſide, unto his ear
She framed her diſcourſe in words moſt meet,
At times of cheviſaunce and warlike geer,
And warrior knights who underneath their feet
Did trample death, immortal fame to greet;
Tho ſagely would ſhe change her talk, and ply
His liſt'ning ſenſe, with ſpeech ſo honey'd ſweet
And moral thews of wiſe philoſophy,
That he was rapt, and inly raviſhed thereby.
IV.
And ever and anon wou'd Praiſe-Deſire
Open her rubin lips, and featly ſing
Her penſive notes, but ſuch as mought inſpire
Calm moods of tranquil ſtedfaſtneſs, and bring
To trueſt teſt, and juſteſt tempering;
Ye would have ſworn one of the heav'nly throng,
Was ſlid to earth upon melodious wing,
Sich ſilver ſounds weft the mild air along,
And ſich the blandiſhment of her ſlow-ditted ſong.
[3]V.
And eke Shameſacedneſs with mellow lute,
Her ſtrains harmonious accompanied;
For ſhe her inſtrument full well could ſuit,
New wanted in well-doing comely pride.
The Prince his ſecret pleaſure ne mought hide,
But ſmit with love of glorious empriſe,
Felt his ſpright mov'd paſt utterance, and figh'd;
The living fire flaſht from his gazing eyes,
And drench'd in bliſs unknown to vulgar ſoul he lies.
VI.
It chaunced out one evening as theſe four
Did walk by thilke ſame river's winding ſide,
From whence Sir Guyon launch'd, which there did pour
His bounteous ſtream watering the country wide,
The Prince the coaſt which them oppoſed ſpied,
Woods and fair hills in beautiful array,
And lawns which now the ſetting Phoebus eyed,
Beaming the laſt remains of golden day,
He ſaw, and aſk'd what land that was which yonder lay.
VII.
That is the land, the gentleſt Alma ſaid,
In which Apollo and the Muſes dwell,
On which their bleſſings with great bountihed
They caſt abroad: there by the living well
Of Hippocrene they fix their happy ſell;
There wonne at diſtaunce from the profane world,
With whoſe aſſairs they never mind to mell,
Als Joviſaunce is there with face unfurl'd,
And care, and grief, and carking pain far off are hurl'd.
[4]VIII.
And thouſand dainty ſhapes inhabit there,
And unimagin'd forms by common mind,
To every ſingle one of which, a peer
In other place on earth may no man find,
Of pureſt nature, and aethereal kind,
By the three Graces ſeemingly bedight;
For in that realm their girdes the Graces bind,
And Liberty ay ſporteth in their ſight,
And there the Virtues ſtray yrob'd in ſtoles of white.
IX.
How may, ſaid then the Prince, a ſtraunger gain
Thilke place which thou deſcriven haſt to ſee?
Perdy moſt rarely brave is that domain:
(Ne ſpeak I out of vaunting ſuſquedry
And loſty vain conceit), yet is in me
A heart in which good nurture fix'd the thew
And love of ſeemly liberality;
Not as a faytour falſe, or ſpy, I ſue
Theſe Bonnibels, and fair depeinten Imps to view.
X.
To me, O Briton Prince, ſhe ſaid, is given
(Alma then ſmil'd, and ſmil'd thoſe other twain),
Free enteraunce into that earthly heav'n,
By young Apollo's ſelf, who there doth reign;
Als he to me hath ordered to reſtrain,
And keepen back by force the raſcal rout
Of noiſy Riotiſe his drunken train,
But never the ingenuous mind to flout,
Ne wight of fair demeanour ever ſhutten out.
[5]XI.
But now is well nigh time hence to be gone,
And, ſupper ended, take ourſelves to reſt:
Now wakeful man wends by himſelf alone;
For bird and beaſt by Somnus are ybleſt;
All but the beaſt of prey, which is addreſt
To cruel ſlaughter on the helpleſs crew,
And Philomela, who with woe impreſt
Her dolorous fate wails in ſad meaſure due,
But ſofter than deſcent of night's faſt-falling dew.
XII.
Early the morn we will forth yede yfere,
And in a gondelay to yonder ſhore
Acroſs the intervening ferry ſteer,
There on the many delices to pore,
Of which 'twere tedious to recount the ſtore;
Thanks render'd, tho the Prince in manner'd wiſe,
For he was ſkill'd in every courtly lore,
That night did ſleep ſeant cloſe his wakeful eyes,
And in the morn he roſe with the bright ſun's upriſe.
XIII.
Alma prepared he already found,
For never ſhe indulg'd in ſlothful bed,
But when the lark ſoar'd upward from the ground,
She ay wou'd bid adieu to drowſihed;
Tho forth they iſſued from that goodly ſted,
And in due ſeaſon to the ferry came,
Faſt by its brink the gondelay moored
They ſee, and eke the wight who ſteer'd the ſame,
Of moſt well-looked mien, Good-Culture was his name.
[6]XIV.
The Knight and Lady he with joy on board
Did take, then puſhed with ſtrong arm away,
And launch'd the veſſel far into the ford:
Tho he his painted canvas did diſplay,
While kind gales in its ſwelling boſom play,
With ſpeed they cut the ſtream as chryſtal clear,
Or as the bright-eyed Titan's piercing ray,
For not the ſmalleſt ſtain of ſpot was there;
But tho' the waves were deep, the bottom did appear.
XV.
When as they did that ſhore approachen near,
Girt with the ceſtus of eternal ſpring,
Its ever-virid banks; th' ambroſial air
Odours moſt exquiſitely ſweet did bring;
For Zephyrus there ever fann'd his wing,
And there did Flora plentifully ſtrew
The ground with flowers which fragrance round them fling,
Sweet-ſcented flowers of every various hue,
That whilom in Adonis' happy gardens grew.
XVI.
How bin they landed in that pleaſaunt place,
And now along the lilied ſhore proceed,
Far as their eyne the wide-ſtretch'd coaſt can trace,
The blithſome ſcenery they in ſilence read;
The Prince in wonder loſt gave fixed heed
At every turn, at every turn amaze
Sat on his cheek, delightſome awe and dreed;
Well might that proſpect frailer wight have daz'd;
He gaz'd, and thought that there he could for ay have gaz'd.
[7]XVII.
His fair conductreſs bade him caſt his eyes,
To waken him from out his rapturous traunce,
To where before the path they took, croſs-wiſe,
Over a velvet meadow, did advaunce
Two beings of moſt pleaſing amenaunce;
Upon their foreheads gayety did ſit,
Their joyous girlonds in the wind did daunce,
Their cheeks were blooming red, their feet were flit,
And treading the ſoft turf did leave no print on it.
XVIII.
The one y-clep'd was Youth, the down began
His features to aguiſe with decent pride,
Ne mought he older wax, ne grow to man;
Yet was that other giv'n him for his bride:
Of whom he got a ſon, who by his ſide
Renning in merry mood for ay did ſmile:
Hygeia did his ſpouſe the name betide,
With her he took no note of time, the while
It paſſed by, ſo well each hour ſhe could beguile.
XIX.
That tender Imp he guided by the hand
With face ſpeaking his heart ſo airy light,
He hath benempt Content, tho' he be ſcann'd
A boy, great power dwelleth with that wight;
For whomſoe'er he looketh on, his ſpright
Is with complacence fill'd, and jocund glee,
An infant babe, Simplicity behight
The mother bore, of lovely hue to ſee,
Stretching his little arms, and telling his cale free.
[8]XX.
Them Alma gracefully y-bording, ſaid,
Tell me, ye gentle pair, if ye have ſeen
Where widely your enchaunted feet have ſtray'd
Emong the mazes of this flowery green,
Where Fancy wonneth now? for well I ween
She hath no certain biding-place of reſt;
But now the ſhade ſhe ſeeketh, now the ſheen,
Now flitteth north, now ſouth, now eaſt, now weſt,
All pleaſure ſhe doth love, variety the beſt.
XXI.
To her with count'nance blithe did Youth reply,
(The words from his quick tongue y-dropping faſt),
If Fancy you do ſeek, fair dame, perdy,
In yonder glen with high rocks over-caſt,
From whence a tumbling torrent froth hath braſt,
I ſaw her even now: ſo louting low,
He with his bellamour away did haſte;
Right onward Alma, and the Prince did go:
Then why ſhe Fancy ſought he fain of her would know.
XXII.
Without her aid, O Prince, ſaid Alma fair,
To travel thro' this coaſt were endleſs ſtower;
Ne without her direction would I dare
Convoy thee as behoves a ſingle hour:
Beſides ſhe builded hath a wond'rous tow'r,
Which hence thou ſeeſt high in the air y-pight,
From whence is view'd diſtinctly dell and bower,
And rock, and ſtream, and every living wight,
And every goodly thing with which theſe realms are dight.
[9]XXIII.
Unto the which if thee ſhe will convey,
In portion ſmall of time ſhe can unfold
What elſe would take up many a weary day,
And many a ſleepleſs night for to behold;
Ne ever ſo at laſt you proſper would:
But after muchell labour and ſojourn,
Some foreſt dark your wilder'd feet would hold,
Or ye would ſink croſſing ſome roaring bourn,
Or to the whence ye came ye idly would return.
XXIV.
Soon mought they now behold that Maid divine;
Upon a craggy cliff ſhe took her ſtand,
Above her head ſpread a broad branching pine,
Which ſent a dark ſhade round; on either hand
Down many a thouſand yarde of riſing land
From rock to rock a ſtrong ſtream forc'd its way,
Which there was blent in one accoiled band;
She joyant ſtood over the foaming bay,
And bath'd her forehead in the floating dewy ſpray.
XXV.
When as the tread of ſtranger feet ſhe heard,
Eftſoons her eyes ſhe thitherwards enhaunc'd,
Which as the glitterand ſun-beam bright appear'd,
And quicker than the quivering levin glaunc'd,
And ſtrait toward them with light ſtep advaunc'd;
Her golden-tendrill'd locks down from her head
Hung looſely wav'ring as to them bechaunc'd,
She never them confin'd in tye or brede,
But they moſt comely ſeem'd whan moſt diſhevelled.
[10]XXVI.
In thin habiliment ſhe was bedight,
Of cunningly inwoven goſs'mer twin'd,
Moſt curious was that garment to the ſight,
And on the lap of the ſoft dalliaunt wind,
Which it ſuſtain'd, diſported far behind;
Its colour was of every various dye,
Which in the glorious bow of heaven we find,
And every intermingled ſhade the eye
Could ever ken, was there, in vaſt complexity.
XXVII.
In that retired vale oftimes ſhe ſate,
Where Nature ſtrayed wild by Art not found;
But not therein immewed was her ſtate,
Nor yet y-pent in any fixed bound,
Free and at large ſhe raung'd creation round,
Or breaking thro the brazen gyre would ſteer
Her flight, with cheek not blanch'd, nor heart a⯑ſtound,
The din of Chaos and Confuſion hear,
Ne all the ever-bickering elements would fear.
XXVIII.
There if ſhe will'd, new worldes of her own
She would create, and them impeople too,
And in the midſt upbuild her ſplendent throne,
Exacting from her ſubjects homage due:
Tho in a moment's ſpace theſe worldes new,
And each thing in them would annihilate,
Her pregnant will ſhe ever would purſue,
For ſhe alone, moſt wond'rous to relate,
Except high-reigning God, was uncontroul'd by fate.
[11]XXIX.
Oft to the heav'n of heav'ns ſhe would aſcend,
And thro th' impenetrable blaze would try
Boldly her peering viſion to extend,
And into the myſterious Godhead pry,
Where far above the ſtar-y-flaming ſky,
His ſeat is circled deep with glory bright,
" In his trinal triplicity on high,"
But never could ſhe paſs that luſtrous light,
High-reigning God alone eſcap'd her thrillant ſight.
XXX.
Yet ſich her ſway that ſhe to earth could bring,
From their eternal ſteds, Angelic Quires,
Who round about her gently hovering,
Tun'd at her will their golden-ſtringed lyres;
Or maugre dernful Pluto's griſly fires,
Would cleave the earth and rowſe to upper air
The Furies with their whips of iron wires,
And ſnakes loud hiſſing in their troubled hair,
And Hecate at her call would her dread front uprear.
XXXI.
With them all ills would riſe that ſhun the light,
Stern-look'd Revenge, Hate by wild frenzy torn,
And each abhorred child of ugly Night,
Luſt ever reſtleſs, Jealouſy o'erworn,
Mean Murder, of each generous mind the ſcorn,
And pining Care, which in her ſickly plume
Inſhrouds while yet alive the wretch forlorn,
And Woe, whoſe heart by inches does conſume,
Hanging with face all pale o'er her dead lovers tomb.
[12]XXXII.
And ſhe would call th' unbodied Ghoſts around
With ſhrieking note utt'ring their dolorous wail,
And Witchcraft mumbling forth her rites profound,
Might make the ſtouteſt living wight to quail,
And conſcious Fear, who ſecretly doth ſteal,
Keeping cloſe watch beſide the murderer's bed,
And when Sleep gins his tired lids to veil,
And wrap the poppied purfle o'er his head,
Rings her alarum wild, and rends his ſoul with dread.
XXXIII.
Yet nothing was there fearful in her face,
Or terrible to the beholders view,
But in her was an amiable grace,
A lovely, and a modeſt bluſhing hue,
Which mingled with reſpect love's paſſion drew,
And winning ſmiles her features freed from ſcorn,
And ye might read her ſtraying veins quite through
Her alabaſter ſkin, and ſo adorn,
She looked like the eldeſt daughter of the Morn.
XXXIV.
Now ſhe the gentleſt Alma firſt addreſt:
Welcome, fair virgin, to theſe bliſsful bowers,
(Then tenderly did claſp her to her breaſt),
And hail to thee, Sir Knight, can aught the pow'rs,
Who here inherit, aught the winged Hours,
The Graces, and the Virtues thee to pleaſe?
For thee to pleaſe, belov'd of heaven, no ſtow'rs
They would refuſe, Apollo's ſelf would ſeize
Th' occaſion, and myſelf thy ſervant am always.
[13]XXXV.
O paſſing fair, Alma to her replied;
This gentle Knight, (the Knight full low did bend),
No Impe of Riotiſe, or boaſtful Pride,
I to thy favour ſtrenuouſly commend,
My ſtrong deliverer, and ſtedfaſt friend,
O bear him to thy tow'r y-pight on high,
Or with him through theſe dainty regions wend,
That he the deft inhabitants may ſpy,
And feed with wonderment his knowledge-ſearching eye.
XXXVI.
She anſwer'd not: but with moſt ſweet aſpect,
Taking the Prince and Lady by the honde,
Eftſoons ſhe did them from the ground erect,
And thro the air, ſwift as the Levin-Bronde,
Or if than it can ſwifter thing be conn'd,
Darted upright: ne did ſhe ſtop, ne ſtay,
Till on her lofty eſpial they did ſtonde,
Whence they the girding heavens might ſurvey,
And earth, and ocean wide, which low unneath them lay.
XXXVII.
It was a noble work for to behold,
For neither was it built of ſtone ne lime,
Ne was there ir'n, ne braſs, ne lead, ne gold,
Ne Roman cement, ne Aſphaltile ſlime,
To bind the parts, and knit withouten rime,
But it was all one piece of lucent glaſs,
And edifyed by her in ſhorteſt time,
Yet though both thin, and ſeeming frail it was,
No work on earth could it in laſtingneſs ſurpaſs.
[14]XXXVIII.
With rare imagin'd portraicts it was ſtrow'd,
Landſcapes and hiſtories by her deſign'd,
For what ſhe ſaw when raunging far abroad,
She took her flight and left thilke tow'r behind,
That from the ſtore-houſe of her heedful mind,
She would diſplay before a painter fair,
Who every form with ſkilful hand defin'd,
And fetiſely bedight with colours rare,
Deſcription was her name, a virgin debonair.
XXXIX.
Her pencil was moſt delicately fine,
And light and ſtrong the ſketches which it drew,
And beautifully did her colours ſhine,
For the clouds checquer'd tints ſhe in them threw,
And the firſt drops of pearly morning dew;
Aurora's bluſh too when ſhe firſt did wake,
From Venus' ſmiles, from Cynthia's ſilver hue,
From Flora's mantle, from the green-ſea lake,
And all Dame Nature's works ſhe did her colours take.
XL.
A reverend Eld the palat there did hold,
And every colour ſet in proper place,
His pierſent eye his perfect ſenſes told,
The wrinkles did become his auntient face,
And eke his hoary beard hung down with grace;
Judgement he hight: his precept ſhe obey'd,
For he could teach her every ſtroke to trace;
Full many a time her youthful hand he ſtay'd,
When wantonly, or when thro careleſſneſs it ſtray'd.
[15]XLI.
The Briton Prince, with curious regard,
The labours of theſe buſied twain did ſee,
Till Fancy, calling him away, debarr'd
His eyne intent on that imagery:
Forthwith to her his ſtep he haſted free:
Tho he and Alma ſeated by her ſide
On a high battlement's extremity,
She wav'd her hand; then bid them throwen wide
Their looks toward the right, and ſee the country's pride.
XLII.
They looked, and beheld a country rare;
The laughing meadows were with flow'rs beſpread,
The roſe their ſhining Queen, the lily fair,
The cowſlip drooping down his fainting head,
The pink, and tulip gay embroidered,
Daiſies and violets, and all the crew,
Which ſweet impunging ſmells odorous bred,
Or Nature with bright ſtaines did imbrue,
There 'sdaining touch of Art uncultivated grew.
XLIII.
And here and there did murm'ring rivers ſtray,
Flowing entrailed in meanders clear,
Now all ſo ſmoothly making gentle way,
With dimpling ſurface, that though placed near
The ſwain their progreſs onward ne mought hear:
Now broke by moſſy ſtones, did hoarſly brawl,
And priſoner took the willing thralled ear,
Or bounding o'er a ragged rocky wall,
From rift to rift in many a caſcade did fall.
[16]XLIV.
And up and down were many tufty groves
Lifting their heads in glory flouriſhing,
Around whoſe trunks the honeyſuckle roves,
And ſcented jeſſamine is wandering,
And purple grapes hung thickly cluſtering,
And thouſand thouſand feather'd ſongſters lay
Concealed, and melodiouſly did ſing,
While every bough and every treeen ſpray,
Wav'd their conſenting leaves, and gladlier ſeem'd to play.
XLV.
And on the flowery meads and plains they ſpy,
Fair flocks of ſheep nibbling the tender green,
Or ruminating as adown they lye,
Or wanton ſporting in the ſunny ſheen;
And where or rock or riſing hill is ſeen,
The friſking goats their antick gambols made,
And jolly keepers, both did keep from teen,
Who in the open ſun, or ſecret ſhade,
Tuning uneven pipes their amorous deſcants play'd.
XLVI.
Soon did they ſee, where from a grove iſſued,
The goat-foot Pan playing a merry fit;
Pleaſaunt it was, but rather ruſtic rude.
Him follow'd dancing trimly to that dit,
A croud of Fawns and Satyrs, who with flit
And active giambeaux beat the hollow ground:
While with them hand in hand their partners knit,
The looſely-robed Dryades rebound,
Their hair with oaken wreaths, and palm and ivy crown'd.
[17]XLVII.
They paſſed on, and next, moſt pleaſing ſight,
The God of Love, borne on a gentle lamb;
Not he who armed dire by ſavage Spite,
And taught thoſe curſed arts, which ſure I am
Have with diſgraces ſhent his cruel Dam,
And als himſelf; and crouds of wretches ſlain,
With whoſe ſad carcaſes the grave to cram,
And crouds of wretches who alive remain,
Have mur'd up with Deſpair, and ever-gnarring Pain.
XLVIII.
This Winged Boy a gentle mind did bear,
As gentle as the beaſt which him up-bore,
Ne could he ſee th' unhappy drop a tear
But it would make his breaſt with pity ſore,
And he himſelf would weep and grieve therefore.
He was not blind; and from his looks did fly
The horrid face of Luſt emboſs'd with gore,
And groveling mean Deceit, and Calumny,
And by his ſide did wonne the maid Sincerity.
XLIX.
Before her breaſt ſhe bore a chryſtal vaſe,
In which her inmoſt thoughts were all pourtray'd,
That ye each hidden ſentiment mought trace:
With this ſhe oft hath Villainy warray'd,
And made him ſtooping hide his felon head;
Guarded with this ſhe fears no ſecret harms,
But walks ſecure as tho ſhe were array'd
In ſtrong defence by force of magick charms,
Or girded firm with coat of mail and ſcaled arms.
[18]L.
On t'other ſide, holding a roſy band,
With which that lamb ſhe guided in the way,
Or when his rider liſt him ſtill to ſtand,
Did ſoftly check his pace and mildly ſway,
Wended fair Innocence; her to ſurvey
The angels would from heav'n on balmy wing
Gliding, in mortal air their limbs embay:
In t'other hand a ſerpent with fell ſting
She held, which lick'd her face, ne any ſcathe did bring.
LI
The next a nymph her countenaunce diſplay'd,
Blithe was her look, unequal was her air,
Her lineaments mought no one ever read,
Ne yet the colour of her garb declare,
Both of them every moment chaunging were:
That fickle nymph, had Novelty to name,
Of Admiration ſhe the loved feare,
Her frequent chaunge did his light heart inflame,
And looking on her greedily he onward came.
LII.
Behind them one twiſting with all his might,
A ſkein of ſilk, which in his hand he bore,
Yet tho he alway ſtrained it full tight,
No ſingle thread would yield, or break therefore,
A ſwain who Friendſhip hight in human lore.
And by his ſide another goodly ſwain,
Call'd Sans-Self-love of mind moſt firm and ſure;
For he that other to ſecure from pain,
Would naked ruſh on ſpears, or plunge into the main.
[19]LIII.
And now advanc'd the wight whom firſt they met,
And with her babe that ſpouſe ſo fair to ſee,
To him full firmly bound in wedlock's net,
And eke that other pledge of mutual gree;
And cloſe behind was virgin Chaſtity,
Bearing in her cold hands a lump of ſnow,
Which though the warm weſt winds around her flee,
Received no impuritie or flaw,
Ne ever loſt its white, ne ever would it thaw.
LIV.
Long time ſhe had betrothed bin I ween,
Unto a comely youth of mickle praiſe,
Fidelity, full ſteady was his mien,
His eyes on her engrafted were always,
Yet ſich their look they ne mought her diſpleaſe;
This hand a golden ſun-flower did ſuſtain,
Still turning to the ſun her conſtant rays,
That a cameleon in a diamond chain,
Which him in's native hue for ever did reſtrain.
LV.
And many more whom time to tell would fail,
The Prince and Alma from their airy height,
Might ſee with thilke ſame bevy fair to ſail:
There paſſed by the ſiſter Graces bright,
And Liberty unveil'd her peerleſs light,
Benevolence and Gratitude y-fere,
Beauty all over lovely to the ſight,
There heart-felt Eaſe, and Leiſure ever dear,
And happy Indolence and Peace brought up the rear.
[20]LVI.
Then Fancy wav'd her hand: but oh how ſtrange
What at that potent motion enſued!
Alack a day, how ſuddain was the change!
Black was the ſky, the bluſt'ring wind blew rude,
Inſtead of company was ſolitude,
Inſtead of gladſome ſights a doleful glade,
In which no chearful viſion might intrude,
For luckleſs Plaint as it beſeemed made;
Ah woe is me, ſo ſoon all human glories fade!
LVII.
Forth came an hundred Nymphs with ſolemn tread,
And flaming tedes in hand, and then a Queen,
As ſeemed by the crown upon her head,
Of beaten gold, and her right royal mien,
Her eyes with aweful dignity gave ſheen,
Her crimſon veſtment flow'd in ſtately pride,
Which likeſt Scythian Tomyris was ſeen,
When ſtain'd with Perſian blood ſhe Cyrus eyed,
Or bold Bonduca when in Roman ſlaughter died.
LVIII.
Her left hand held a bowl with poiſon fraught,
Which working quick diſpatch was ſure to kill;
Her right, a dreadful dagger ſharply wrought,
Which to the wight who liſt his blood to ſpill,
She gave, and bade him execute his will;
Or if the bowl he choſe to end his days,
She ſtoop'd it down, and told him drink his fill;
Impurpled buſkins on her legs ſhe wore,
Which with a golden claſp y-claſped were before.
[21]LIX.
Behind her was a wretch with garments rent,
Hollow his cheeks, and pale his dreary face,
He mov'd as tho with weakneſs all foreſpent;
Yet not uncomely was his weary pace;
And his eyes gleamed with a languid grace,
Misfortune hight, him in a brazen chain
Adverſity moſt cruelly did brace,
And tho he ſeemed faint, and well nigh ſlain,
She nould him ever ſpare, but dragg'd him on amain.
LX.
And ever and anon her arm on high
She would uplift, which with an iron whip
Adaw'd, and ſcowl on him with threat'ning eye;
And oftimes would his cloaths with fury ſtrip,
And to the bones the ſkin therewith would rip,
That he poor man would miſerably groan;
Yet not an evil word would he let ſlip:
His virtue ſhe not heeded, nor his moan;
Her heart had long y-go tranſmewed bin to ſtone.
LXI.
Behind him came, with ſweet aſpect and bland,
The faireſt and the lovelieſt maid I ween,
That ever yet on earthly mold did ſtand,
Or ever was by mortal eyeſight ſeen;
When as ſhe view'd that miſer's doleful teen,
O God, how did ſhe lift the heavy ſigh!
What would ſhe give he mought relieved been!
For him ſhe could almoſt with pity die,
So feeling was the ſoul of tender Sympathy.
[22]LXII.
Her beauty ſhew'd more lovely for the tears
Which all beſprinkled had her face moſt meek,
As for that wight beſet with cruel fears,
In vain they ren down o'er her heav'nly cheek:
And bluſhing Pudency ſat mantling there,
Darting her beams the pearled moiſture through,
So ſeemingly enſhrin'd, as does appear
Through a thin cloud Aurora to the view,
Or a ſweet roſy bud thro' the clear ambient dew.
LXIII.
Two little Cherubs did afore her fly:
One in his hand a golden cenſer bare,
Which underneath her face he did apply,
And therein latched every precious tear;
Which fill'd, he gave up to the others care;
Who to the throne of all o'er-ſwaying Jove,
Plying his purple plumes aloft did ſteer;
He thilke ſame offering receiv'd with love,
And ſhook with gracious ſign his nectar'd locks above.
LXIV.
Next came Remorſe: his haggard eyes down bent,
In ghaſtly ſilence glar'd upon the ground;
But ſoon inflected, inwardly were ſent,
As if to perſe into his breaſt profound;
There, as tho tenting to the quick a wound,
Would wring his hands in agony of pain,
Or wildly toſs them in the air around;
Ah! foredone wight, thou but turmoilſt in vain!
The ſore full deep hath fret, and ever ſhall remain.
[23]LXV.
Now Indignation, with his eyen on fire,
Welding a glitterand faulchion o'er his head,
His red cheeks bluſhing with becoming ire,
His ſtern brow frowning with a comely dread,
For, ay he was by Reaſon maiſtered;
He with that faulchion fain would do to die
A ſnaky monſter foul, ill-favoured,
Guilt, who diſtraught with fear away did fly,
Nor tho at diſtaunce got, dar'd turn her craven eye.
LXVI.
Next Horrour: harrows in his hand he bore,
With which he felly harrowed up the ſoul,
And all her finer ſenſes rent and tore,
So that his ravin ſhe might not controul;
But he there reigned King and Keſar ſole.
And Hopeleſs Love, a ſhaft quite thro her heart
Had paſs'd, the wound ſhe wrapped in her ſtole,
Still ſtruggling to conceal her deadly ſmart,
And like a ſtricken deer pined away apart.
LXVII.
And many more attendant on that Queen,
Their reſience in thilke dark glade did keep:
There wonn'd Suſpect, her face all ſickly green;
Exceſs of Grief, from whom no tears could creep;
Vengeance, who both his hands in blood did ſteep;
Envy, to her own mind the keſtrel ſlave;
Diſſemblaunce, who like crocodile could weep;
Madneſs, as wild as the enchauffed wave;
And Melancholy, ſilent as the midnight grave.
[24]LXVIII.
There too was Brave Diſdain of deed that's baſe;
And there of tried ſpirit, Conſcious Pride;
And Emulation, which no ſecond place
Would graunt; and Mercy, to the gods allied;
And Stoic Rigour, which all vice defied;
And Seemly Zeal, by True Religion dreſt;
And Wedded Love, which death cannot divide;
And Juſtice, well-ſpring pure of public reſt;
And Filial Piety, with Heav'n's firſt promiſe bleſt.
LXIX.
All that mought rowſe the ſoul of man was there,
All that to goodneſs mought his boſom ſway,
And reſcue him from Vice's per'lous meir;
For Virtue marſhall'd all in juſt array:
That Queen herſelf does her beheſts obey;
To her from firſt her origin ſhe owes,
Ne without her could reign a ſingle day;
By her ſhe order from confuſion draws,
And all that diverſe Croud acts as ſhe gives them laws.
LXX.
And now at Fancy's bid gan diſappear
The darkſome drerineſs which erſt had blent
The ſun of heav'n, and hid his beamez clear;
And with it all that foreſeen Many went,
While he his chearing rays more clear outſent.
And now a public road before them lay,
It ſeemed as there was ſome city near,
For many a goodly troop paſs'd by that way,
Some rode, ſome laughing walk'd, ſome ſung, and ſome did play.
[25]LXXI.
Cloſe by the road an Archer took his ſtand,
His low'ring brow announced vengeful ire,
Two female forms were ſeen on either hand,
Who him reſtrain'd within a certain gyre,
With ſober counſel ſmothering his fire,
Candour and Truth, but he was Satire hight;
They taught him againſt whom he war ſhould ſtire;
And when they pointed out the deſtin'd wight,
He drew his bow, and him imperſt with arrow bright.
LXXII.
Thoſe whom he ſo amerc'd with rigorous wound,
By an old beldam had been bred a peſt,
Y-cleped Vice, ſome in diſguiſes found,
Others more openly that road t' infeſt,
And unſuſpecting paſſengers moleſt:
But now did halt with limping pace along,
While Infamy ſat grinning on their creſt,
They joined not in daunce or jovial ſong,
But ſhun'd, and hated, ſkulk'd at diſtaunce from the throng.
LXXIII.
Nathleſs when as his two companions caſt
Their eyne aſide, he would with motion ſly
A ſhaft from forth his quiver ſnatch in haſte,
And with inſatiable cruelty,
At travellers of goodly grace let fly;
Which rueful ſcathe when as the virgins ſcann'd,
To their aſſiſtance renning haſtily,
They pour'd in oil and balm with healing hand,
But him with threats affray'd and bitter reprimand.
[26]LXXIV.
Onward a little ſpace there wonn'd a Dame,
Behind a vizor ſhe aguis'd her face,
Socks on her feet ſhe had as her became,
And her looſe garb fell down with eaſy grace.
Always attending conſtant on her pace
A ſelcouth hag, a flaming brond who bore,
Her name was Secret Knowledge of Diſgrace;
A dwarf hight Ridicule, was plac'd before,
Who a large burniſh'd mirrour ſtead of target wore.
LXXV.
Into thilke mirrour, led by Vanity
And Folly vain, their ſemblaunces to view,
Moſt of the ſilly croud who paſſed by,
With idle mirth and wantonneſs nigh drew;
But ſo deformed did they therein ſhew,
They nould confeſs themſelves to be the ſame,
Until that Hag ſprong from her hidden mew,
Who daſht into their cheeks her brond of flame,
And they retreated thence all covered with ſhame.
LXXVI.
But, oh! what tongue what language may ſuffice,
With ample ſpirit fitly to expreſs
The ſcenes that Potent Queen now bid ariſe!
My ſimple numbers cannot aptly dreſs
In meet array, ne yet their glory gueſs,
When ſhe the Briton Prince, and eke his guide,
With liberal kindneſs bounteouſly to bleſs,
Unfolded to their ſight (ne yet envied)
The regions where the lofty Epic doth reſide.
[27]LXXVII.
As though by pow'r paſt human from his bed,
In nightly ſleep a wight ſhould ſnatched be,
And croſs the ſounding ſeas be hurried,
Then waking in the morn with wonder ſee
Himſelf in an unknown and ſtrange country,
Afore, the Amazons huge floud late-found,
Beyond, an open realm, upriſing free,
By the vaſt towering Cordilleras bound,
And on the other ſide th' Atlantic waſte profound.
LXXVIII.
So in amaze the Briton Prince was loſt;
For now down deep-ſunk vallies rough and ſteep,
Huge rapid ſtreams rolling his viſion croſs'd;
Now without meir an ocean wide and deep,
On which the lingering winds did ſeem to ſleep;
But ſoon with angry mood a whirlwind blew,
No longer mought it now its calmneſs keep,
But all with foamy wrath enraged grew,
And from the fould'ring clouds the levin gaunt out-ſlew.
LXXIX.
Now on the champion ground he might behold
Caſtles which ſeated were in pleaſaunt ſite,
And ſingle Knights armed in gliſt'ring gold,
With Ladies by their ſides of beauty bright,
To whom they told fair tales of love's delight;
Or elſe for their protection combating,
With monſters fell courageouſly did fight;
Or in round liſts each other conquering,
To them the trophies of their victory did bring.
[28]LXXX.
Now heard he braying trumpets numberleſs,
(The martial blaſt did his bold boſom thrill),
Eftſoons two large enraunged armies preſs
The plain; they ſhout, they join, they fight, they kill,
And the engorged earth with carnage fill;
Tho ſaw he where the mountains roſe on high,
Striding from rock to rock, from hill to hill,
A giant form, whoſe head arraught the ſky,
Emong the ſtars empight, his name Sublimity.
LXXXI.
Theſe doen away, a cloud of blazing ſheen,
Floating upon a forked hill, appear'd,
The brightneſs well nigh blent his feeble eyen,
And from behind ſich muſic was there heard,
He thought himſelf to heaven's height uprear'd,
And the great weight of pleaſure ſcarce could bear;
Ne wonder was't that he ſich rapture ſhar'd,
Whan Jove himſelf would often ſtoop his ear,
From high Olympus top thilke harmony to hear.
LXXXII.
Where the thin edges of that cloud did reach,
He might as 'twere part of a temple ſee;
But though he ſtrain'd his eyes to th' utmoſt ſtretch,
They nould its ſhape diſtinguiſh perfectly,
Yet it moſt gorgeous ſeemed for to be.
But thro the middle of that cloud ſo bright,
From whence iſſued the dulcet melody,
He could by no means caſt at all his ſight;
The oftener he look'd, the ſtronger blaz'd the light.
[29]LXXXIII.
And now ſaid ſhe, O Prince, what to thy view
I might diſcloſe, thine eyes have briefly ſeen,
So much was to thy fair conductreſs due:
To perſe that dazling cloud thou ſee'ſt I ween,
Thou muſt all over have beſprinkled been,
When thou wert born with dews of Caſtaly,
And thrice three times been dipp'd in Hippocrene,
There on his throne Apollo now I ſee,
And there the Muſes ſit each in their juſt degree.
LXXXIV.
Yet even theſe thou ſhalt behold in time,
But firſt thou many hardy fights muſt wage,
And travel over many various clime,
And with thy country's deadly foes engage,
And curb the Saxons haught with ſtrong menage
Tho they themſelves ſhall take thee by the hand,
And to that building with ſafe tutelage
Conducted, thou in Glory's Fane ſhalt ſtand,
And thy renowned name be read in every land.
LXXXV.
This ſaying, ſhe a privy door unbarr'd,
Which led a winding paſſage to the ground;
For though to climb up to that tow'r was hard,
Down to deſcend was alway eaſy found;
When they now touch'd the bottom of the mound,
Many great thanks gave Alma to that Dame,
And eke the Prince, with humbleſs moſt profound,
She upward ſhot like to an arrowy flame,
They back returned by the way in which they came.
A GLOSSARY.
[30]- Stowers, harms, troubles.
- Dan, a term of honour.
- Nould, would not.
- Leach, phyſician.
- Gree, ſatisfaction.
- Thilke, that.
- Tho, then.
- Thews, inſtructions.
- Mought, might.
- Bowntihed, bounteouſneſs.
- Sell, ſeat.
- Wonne, dwell.
- Mell, mingle.
- Perdy, (French, par Dieu), an old oath or affirmation.
- Surquedry, pride.
- Falſe faytor, deceiver.
- Bonnibels, fair dames.
- Imps, children, or offspring.
- Demeanour, behaviour.
- Wends, walks.
- Yede yfere, go together.
- Gondelay, a little bark.
- Sted, manſion.
- Depeinten, pourtray'd.
- Whilom, formerly.
- Amenaunce, carriage, geſture.
- Aguiſe, cover.
- Benempt, called.
- Y-bord, accoſt.
- Braſt, burſt.
- Louting, bowing.
- Bellamour, partner in affec⯑tion.
- Y-pight, fixed.
- Dell, vale.
- Bourn, ſtream.
- Blent, blended, mingled.
- Joyant, glad.
- Enhaunce, lift up.
- Levin, light'ning.
- Goſſimer, filaments like cob⯑web, which we frequently find croſs our path.
- Immew'd, incloſed.
- Gyre, circle.
- Thrillant, ſtrongly piercing.
- Dernful, gloomy.
- Griſly, dreadful.
- Purfle, mantle.
- Levin brond, thunderbolt.
- Eſpial, watch-tower.
- Rime, chink.
- Fetiſely, beautifully.
- Impunging, piercing.
- Fit, tune.
- Dit, muſic.
- Giambeaux, legs.
- Shent, ill affected.
- Als, alſo.
- Gnarring, ſnarling.
- Warray'd, attacked.
- Embay, bathe.
- Scath, harm.
- [31] Feare, wife.
- Bevy, company.
- Teen, affliction.
- Y-fere, together.
- Tedes, torches.
- Sheen, ſhine.
- Foreſpent, tired out.
- Adaw'd, terrified.
- Scowl, frown.
- Tranſmewed, transformed.
- Miſer, an unhappy perſon.
- Pudency, modeſty.
- Latched, catched.
- Craven, coward.
- Ravin, deſtruction.
- Stole, mantle.
- Reſience, reſidence.
- Keſtrel, baſe. It ſignifies pro⯑perly, the worſt kind of hawk.
- Meir, any think that incloſes.
- Announced, proclaimed.
- Stire, ſtir.
- Amerc'd, puniſhed.
- Affray'd, kept in awe.
- Selcouth, uncommon, i. e. ſel⯑dom known.
- Mew, hiding-place.
- Fould'ring, thundering.
- Site, ſituation.
- Eftſoons, immediately.
- Menage, government.
- Guerdon, reward.
POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.
[]An ODE.
Occaſioned by the Coronation 1761.
[]I. 1.
SLEEP'ST thou, fair maid,
Aeolian Virgin, ſleep'ſt thou in the cave
Of drowſy ſilence, all array'd
In indolence ſupine?
Does liſtleſs Morpheus wave
His torpid-ſtriking wand thy brows around,
Damping thy faculties divine?
Ariſe, fair maid, ariſe!
Shake off the tardineſs of dull delay;
Quick bid the ſacred lyre reſound,
Quick tune th' harmonious lay:
'Tis Brunſwick claims the verſe, prepare
Thine eagle-plumes, and light as air
Sail through the azure-vaulted ſkies.
I. 2.
But firſt remove
Far from thy hallow'd preſence, the baſe train
Of fawning Flattery; ſhe to prove
[36] Her love, falls beſtial down
Licking the duſt: diſdain
So lowly to debaſe thine honeſt head,
And ſoil thy verdant laurel crown;
Back to thy ſhades retire,
Immerge in ſolitude thy form auguſt;
Thy ſhining locks with darkneſs braid;
Still reſt in ſilence, if the luſt
Of fame entice thy voice to ſing
The meaneſt of mankind, a King,
Whom vice and tyranny inſpire.
I. 3.
The worthleſs great to praiſe
Befits the hireling's proſtituted pen,
Who ſells for fordid gold his venal lays.
Though oft along the winding Seine,
Though oft in days of elder date,
On the green margin of the Tuſcan ſtream,
Dazzled by pomp's external ſtate,
Th' ignoble bard has ſtrung the glozing lyre
Of ſpecious falſehood; yet the Britiſh Muſe,
Free-born, ſhould ſpurn th' illuſive theme;
And fraught with conſcious dignity, refuſe
On Folly's ſons to waſte her ſacred fire,
Or ſoothing regal grandeur, weave
For undeſerving Pride her ever-blooming wreathe.
II. 1.
Such caution here
Is vain: thoſe fabling ſtrains nor George requires,
Neither art thou inclin'd to ſpare.
[37] Where Truth ſhall point the way,
Thy progreſs he deſires,
And thou ſecure from harm ſhalt onward fly:
Directed by her ſteady ray,
Should meager Envy ſcowl
Thy ſteps before, and grimly-threat'ning lance
Keen arrows from her poiſonous eye,
Unmov'd thou ſhalt advance,
Smile in her face, without a wound
Hear her fierce ſerpents hiſs around,
And all her ill-ſhap'd monſters howl.
II. 2.
Chaſte Virgin, ſay
Where ſhall begin the ſong? before my eyes
So various are the Forms which ſtray,
That all confus'd my mind,
And ſmit with wild ſurpriſe,
Scarce keeps its proper function. Here behold,
Upon a craggy rock reclin'd,
High ſtretch'd out o'er the main,
Deſpair and Horrour on her faded brow,
Sits Gallia! while her arms enfold
The anguiſh of her breaſt, as now
Wide o'er the deep ſhe looks, now o'er
Th' exhauſted land, her humbled power
She weeps, thick falls the briny rain.
II. 3.
Chang'd is the ſcene, and here
Suppliant the ſavage chiefs of Indian race,
In lowly guiſe, with aſpect meek appear,
[38] The rugged features of their face
No more with death and terror clad,
Oft wont with wild foot through the dreary ſhade
To range with Slaughter, oft when mad
With rage, and hot revenge, and fierce deſire
Of blood and prey, in the dead ſilent night,
For ſtill repoſe and ſlumber made,
Have rais'd th' awakening yell of dread affright,
Have baſely ſlain the unreſiſting ſire,
The babe from its fond mother tore,
Soon welt'ring in her own, and her lov'd infants' gore.
III. 1.
Well ſkill'd in guile,
And treacherous as th' unſteady gale, which waves
Its fickle pinion with a ſmile
Now o'er the tranquil ſea;
But ſoon with fury raves,
And lifts its tortur'd billows to the ſky;
Where the bright chariot of the day
Burſts from his eaſtern goal,
Striking the face of darkneſs with affright,
And makes her ghaſtly ſhadows fly
Before the piercing light:
Dread Eaſtern Tyrants wear the chain,
Truſt their deep policy in vain,
And crafty wilineſs of ſoul.
III. 2.
Where-e'er his arms
Proceed, the blooming form of Victory
Array'd in her full blaze of charms,
[39] Girds laurels round the brow
Of Britiſh Mars; his eye
Gazes entranc'd upon the lovely maid,
And rapturous thoughts endow
His ſoul with ecſtaſy.
Say then, bright Queen of ſong, wilt thou entwine
A chaplet for his honour'd head?
Wilt thou among th' aſſembled Nine
Extol th' intrepid deeds of War,
The thunder of his rapid car,
His ſpear, and brazen panoply.
III. 3.
Ah, no; for what though here,
No vile ambition inſtigates to fight;
Yet learn, O Brunſwick, name for ever dear
To Albion's ſons, that at the ſight
Of angry Juſtice from the eye
Of mild Humanity the pitying drop
Deſcends; with tendereſt ſympathy
Each mourning Virtue caſts the head aſide,
And every child of Reaſon and of Senſe;
Ah then, be 't thine with haſte to ſtop
The fatal ſteps of War and Death, diſpenſe
With generous thought, and true heroic pride,
The bleſſings which attend the train
Of hallow'd Peace, and dignify her glorious reign.
IV. 1.
And, lo, they come!
Soft o'er the flowers of the velvet mead
Content and meck-ey'd Quiet roam,
[40] Or join the choral dance
By frolic Laughter led:
And liberal Science rears her bluſhing face,
And Merit dares advance
From the dark haunt of Scorn,
Where ſhe ſtray'd penſive many a long long day:
And every Muſe and ſiſter Grace
On thee ſhall beam the living ray:
Thy memory priz'd, when thoſe whoſe reign
Ambition guided, ſhall remain
The curſe of ages yet unborn.
IV. 2.
And ſee, to bleſs
Thy life, to ſoften Grandeur's aking fears
With the chaſte conjugal careſs,
To ſoothe the weighty toils
Of ſtate, and eaſe its cares,
Where Charlotte every female virtue brings!
Oh happy ſtate, in mutual ſmiles,
Where ſouls communion mingle! there
Love revels all-luxuriant and free,
There modeſt Tranſport waves her wing,
There dwells exulting Harmony
With chaſte Delight, there ne'er is ſeen
Angry Suſpicion's coward mien,
Nor doubts nor jealouſies appear.
IV. 3.
Hail'd by a nation's voice,
Long happy pair, long may you wear the crown,
By merit yours; long may the land rejoice,
[41] Rul'd by a Prince who boaſts himſelf her own.
And when, howe'er belov'd, howe'er
Call'd on to ſtay, the laws of fate,
Which not tranſcendent goodneſs ſpare,
Shall ſnatch you hence from a lamenting world;
Heir to his father's virtues, may a ſon,
Another George, direct th' affairs of ſtate,
And mount with glory his paternal throne,
As now, far off be angry Faction hurl'd,
Diffuſive Peace, oh ſpread thy bounties wide!
And may another nymph like Charlotte be his bride.
To the LYRIC MUSE. An ODE.
[]1. 1.
SAY, will the Lyric Muſe
The themes of tender love refuſe?
Though ſhe with haughty ſtate preſides
Over the big tumultuous tides,
Which down the ſacred mountain pour,
And ſtun the ear with deafening roar;
Yet where more gentle currents ſtray,
And through the ſlowery vallies play,
Laughing with tranſport as they flow,
Where roſes and where myrtles grow,
She has e'er now been often found
To ſcatter her enchanting bleſſings round.
1. 2.
Long in the Grecian iſles,
Retain'd by Cytheraea's ſmiles,
Enamour'd of her roſy hue,
While frolic pleaſures round her flew,
Stole from her lips the nectar'd kiſs,
And bath'd their light-plum'd wings in bliſs;
While Hebe danc'd with graceful tread,
And the ſoft airs, and paſſions led;
[43] While ſallying from her temple's porch,
Young Love wav'd high his magic torch,
Thou too with ſweeteſt look appear'd,
And often thy melodious voice was heard.
1. 3.
Haſt thou forgot the melting ſtrain
Which taught by thee thy Sappho ſung,
When ſtretch'd upon the Leſbian plain,
O'er her the form of tender Pity hung?
Didſt thou not bountifully ſhed
Thy viſions o'er Anacreon's head?
And e'en the frozen breaſt of age,
In amorous nets and toils engage,
While all the virgins wondering ſtood,
And laugh'd, yet found themſelves ſubdu'd?
And when he immaturely died,
Say, did not Grief thy heavenly beauties hide?
II. 1.
On what wide-ſeated ſhore
Do mortals now thy name adore,
Celeſtial Love? Thy haunts of old,
What clouds of darkneſs now enfold,
Inſtead of the pure incenſe bright,
Which then diffus'd a genial light!
Within th'incircled Haram reign
Tyrannic Luſt, and jealous Pain,
Bitter Conſtraint, internal Fears,
Lean Anguiſh, and corroding Cares;
Unknown are there the mutual ſighs
Which from the ſympathetic breaſt ariſe.
[44]II. 2.
Thy more than human mien
By Tiber has of yore been ſeen;
And ere the Roman eagle flew
The ſons of Britain to ſubdue,
With native Innocence allied,
Haply thy power did there reſide:
But big with plentitude of woes,
From the rank earth a peſt aroſe;
Nature his ſhape with grief eſpied,
And for her death-doom'd offspring ſigh'd;
They ſunk beneath, an eaſy prey,
And Love fled far from Avarice away.
II. 3.
Didſt thou then ſeek Columbia's ſtrand,
There thy propitious forehead ſhew,
While rais'd by thy creative hand,
The blooming flowers of ſocial rapture grew?
Too ſhort a time, alas! from thence
Didſt thou thy radiant gifts diſpenſe:
Behold, th' impetuous monſter haſte,
Rapine, and Violence, and Waſte,
Follow attendant on his flight:
And lo, before thy pitying ſight,
Welt'ring in blood thy people lies,
To curſed gold the fated ſacrifice.
III. 1.
By force exil'd, ah! where
Did thy inſulted ſteps repair!
[45] Some iſland in the ſouthern main,
Perhaps enjoy'd thy bounteous reign;
Or didſt thou ſteer thy vagrant courſe
To Orellana's diſtant ſource?
There while in artleſſneſs array'd,
The youth beholds his ſun-burnt maid;
There while of every wiſh poſſeſt,
He leans with fondneſs on her breaſt,
Thou ſeeſt them in the palmy grove,
And o'er their heads thy purple pinions move.
III. 2.
There too the heavenly Muſe
Showers perchance her kindly dews,
While thus ſome Indian Horace ſings,
As to his love he ſtrikes the ſtrings.
" Ah, when you praiſe my rival's charms,
" His jetty neck, and ſable arms,
" With paſſion ſwells my fervid breaſt,
" With paſſion hard to be ſuppreſt:
" My ſenſes float in terrors vain,
" My blood retreats, and comes again;
" The tears ſteal down my cheeks, and ſay,
" With what ſlow fires I totally decay."
III. 3.
Oh, if with me, ye gentle powers,
Ye ſometimes would but deign to dwell,
Born by the quickly-circling hours,
If ye would viſit my ſequeſter'd cell:
One who with pureſt paſſion glows,
Who not the face of Avarice knows,
[46] Nor by Ambition drawn aſide,
But owning Nature for his guide;
Who from his earlieſt day of youth,
Confeſs'd her charms, and worſhipp'd Truth;
Ye in that ſecret cell ſhould find,
And ſubject to your laws, a willing mind.
ODE.
I. 1.
WHO with ungovern'd tongue will blame
The verſe th' eternal Muſe inſpires?
The ſoul-illuminating flame,
Kindled at heaven's own ſacred fires?
Who but the wretch of narrow mind,
Whoſe ſentiments were ne'er refin'd
From the vile droſs, whoſe baſe alloy
Condemns him ſtill to plod along
But one degree above the beſtial throng,
Unconſcious of each nobler ſource of joy
I. 2.
Yet though unto the ſrigid ear
Of native Dallneſs every ſtrain
Of melody uncouth appear,
And all the giſts of Science vain;
Though dazzled by the blaze of light,
Vice ſtarting, turns away her ſight
[47] From where the Muſes fix their ſway;
Though Cruelty, Revenge, and Strife,
And all the plagues which harraſs human life,
Keep far aloof, and tread a diſtant way:
I. 3.
Thy ſons, O Virtue, with reſpect ſincere,
Bend lowly down before their holy ſhrine,
To them they offer up the ſpotleſs prayer,
And bleſs the influence of the powers divine.
All who with more exalted thought
Have Wiſdom's valued precepts ſought;
All who with pure emotions bleſs'd,
Love Beauty by the Graces dreſs'd;
All who to bounteous Nature juſt,
Dare her inſtinctive feelings truſt,
The Muſes hallow'd votary approve,
Enjoy his conſidence, and ſhare his love.
II. 1.
Hence then away, ye vulgar crew!
Such would I have condemn my lays;
But hither turn ye worthier few,
Embold'ned by whoſe genuine praiſe,
Let the half-ſoul'd, cold-blooded friend,
Sneer, while aſſecting to commend,
Let the unfeeling fool laugh loud,
To you alone the bard his lyre
Shall ſtrike, and quitting every mean deſire,
Soar far beyond the falſely-judging croud.
[48]II. 2.
Unhappy is the poet's fate,
Th' intrinſic value of whoſe name
All will pretend to eſtimate,
And at their will commend, or blame.
Empty deceit! as if their eye
Could trace the light'ning through the ſky,
Purſue the comet's devious maze,
Or looking on the blue profound,
Where not the fathom-line could ever ſound,
Pierce to the bottom with a ſingle gaze.
II. 3.
Ah wretch, to whom 'tis given to poſſeſs
Superior ſtrength and energy of mind,
Unleſs he's planted in a ſphere to bleſs,
Even againſt their wills, perverſe mankind!
Elſe mingling with the common train
Full of themſelves, he ſpeaks in vain:
Of if they hear his voice, is ſtyl'd
Extravagant, excentric, wild,
Becauſe his reaſon does not lie
Level with their capacity,
Becauſe his active ſenſe ſprings 'tward the goal,
And dwelling not on parts, takes in the whole.
III. 1.
Or if their weakneſs to befriend,
O'er his own thoughts he caſt a veil,
Reflection's ſerious brow unbend,
And her intenſer rays conceal;
[49] They view him with familiar eyes,
And being like themſelves deſpiſe.—
O contradicting law! the chain
Of Nature, draws with all its power,
To mix in life, and ſeek the ſocial hour;
Indignant Reaſon goads us thence again.
III. 2.
She proves how vague the hope, how blind,
Which on external good relies;
Which ſeeks for aught among mankind,
To gratify the juſt and wiſe.
Ah! where then ſhould the Bard remove,
Whoſe ſong the choral Nine approve?
Or where the Sage, whoſe breaſt diſdains
The holy juggler's wily cheats?
Where but to thoſe retir'd and ſtill retreats,
Where Solitude cloſe leagued with Virtue reigns?
III. 3.
Hers are the Graces, hers the winning charms,
Which the fix'd boſom from conviction pleaſe;
From neceſſary choice, within her arms
We wiſh to ſpend the remnant of our days;
Not ſo in our firſt greener years,
New to this world of vice and cares,
By Flattery taught: for what is Fame,
But a deluſive idle name,
Fading before the living breath?—
Though having paſs'd the vale of Death,
She may with vain ſolicitude return,
And deck with fruitleſs wreathes the funeral urn.
ODE.
[50]I.
HOW lives the man, whoſe thoughts have broke
Imperious Cuſtom's ſervile yoke?
Him Nature guiding by the hand,
Leads on where Truth and Reaſon ſtand;
Virtue her mantle round him flings,
And Honour waves her ſilver wings:
He does not yield to foreign laws,
But wiſely courts his own applauſe:
Health ſits inthroned in his eye,
And Innocence walks ſmiling by.
II.
When ſunk into the vale of years
His head the hoary foliage bears,
He backward caſts his tranquil ſight
And views each ſcene reflected bright;
No ſullen damps his joy infeſt,
No plagues of Avarice tear his breaſt;
Him willing Duty haſtes to ſerve,
And ſtrains with zeal each lab'ring nerve,
While Love ſits gazing on his face,
Intent the latent wiſh to trace.
SONNETS.
Wrote at Inverſnaid, in Scotland, in the year 1767.
[51]SONNET I.
HENCE Sickneſs, nor about my weary head
Thy languid vapours wrap, and drooping wings:
Better would'ſt thou thy baleful poiſon ſhed
In ſome dark cave where the Night-raven ſings,
Where heavy ſits the gloom-delighted Owl,
Where Aconite its loathſome juices throws;
Where dwells the Bat, and Serpents hiſſing foul,
And fell Deſpair, who never knows repoſe:
There drag with thee the wretch, who has betray'd
His truſt, has ruin'd innocence, or ſpilt
The ſacred blood of him who gave him life;
Him torture there: nor will the lovely maid,
The ſweet-ey'd Mercy, conſcious of his guilt,
Reſtrain thy hand, or blunt thy ſharpen'd knife.
SONNET II.
Though here almoſt eternal Winter reigns,
And piercing deep the womb of Nature chills;
Though born far off under a milder ſky,
The northern blaſt e'en through my marrow thrills,
[52] And freezes up the life-blood in my veins;
The hardy natives o'er the mountains high,
Trace out the ſtep of Health amid the ſnow;
Or where o'er the gray moſs her bare feet ſtray:
Hence active nerves, and ſcorn of danger flow;
Hence when of late, call'd forth to mortal fray,
At their approach, Revenge more furious grew,
War ſmil'd, while triple Rage new ſteel'd his heart,
Pale bloodleſs Fear turn'd to a ghaſtlier hue,
And Death more dreadful ſhook his pointed dart.
SONNET III.
When Recollection ſtirs up in the mind
And ſets before her eye paſt ſcenes of woe,
In vain will the wiſe men their ſayings bring
Dead, unimpaſſion'd, wrote in the full flow
Of health and ſtrength, to nicer feelings blind:
In vain againſt Reflection's piercing ſting,
They urge a formal phraſe, or adage quaint,
And with a ſhrewd and well-turn'd point of wit,
Or a laborious ſtudied argument,
Think to chaſe far away the fretful fit:
They might as well drink the wide ocean dry,
Or rob cold Winter of his ſnowy beard:
Spite of the vain ſaws of Philoſophy,
Nature is prevalent, and will be heard.
SONNET IV.
Now is the feudal vaſſalage deſtroy'd,
By which the haughty Thane his ſubject train
Held at his will, and in conſinement ſtrong
Fetter'd the ſervile crew, and with ſtern reign
[53] Led them in in ſhackles like brute beaſts along:
No will they ever of their own enjoy'd,
But bent implicitly to his controul.
Now by degrees they find that Liberty
Opens the narrow foldings of the ſoul,
And they too dare to boaſt that they are free.
No more with rapine they the fields infeſt,
Or ſeek out Slaughter in her ſecret den;
But by the laws of equal Juſtice bleſt,
Humanely think, and feel that they are men.
A Picture of HUMAN LIFE.
ELATE with Hope, and her enlivening fires,
I ruſh'd impetuous o'er the fields of youth,
I gave up all my ſoul to gay deſires,
And Fancy's dazzling form miſtook for Truth.
She held her magick glaſs, and ſtrait I ſaw
A youth with rare accompliſhments endued;
Perfect he ſeem'd; nor quickly did I know
That ſtruck with wonder of myſelf I ſtood.
When known, a tranſient bluſh o'erſpread my face:
Self-love ſoon took the ſanguine ſtain away,
Increas'd each mental viſionary grace,
And deck'd each feature with a brighter ray.
[54]
Well-pleas'd the treacherous Nymph, O youth, ſhe cried,
Point thy ideas to the higheſt aim:
Why are ſuperiour virtues ſtill untried?
Why does not Worth its lawful honours claim?
Inactive riſe! lift thy aſpiring brow;
Thine be the joys of wealth, of power, of fame;
Let thy young breaſt with emulation glow;
Behold the nobleſt, and be thou the ſame.
Fool that I was, with giddy tranſport blind,
I ſwallow'd the ſweet ſound with eager ear;
My eyes the latent poiſon could not find,
Nor heart think evil of a ſhape ſo fair.
Drunk as with wine, methought I could attain
To be of each admiring tongue the theme,
Whether I will'd th' heroick palm to gain,
Or haunt the laurell'd ſhade of Academe.
Whether with Love to waſte the ſmiling hours,
To melt the captiv'd virgin's icy breaſt,
Or wander in the Muſes roſeate bowers,
Weave the proud wreathe, and dignify my creſt.
Methought my penetrating eye could dart
Through the black plots and myſteries of ſtate,
Pierce the thick foldings of the human heart,
And rule with Judgement's voice the deep debate.
[55]
Wildly fantaſtick; the fierce northern blaſt,
I might as ſoon with guiding rein have taught,
Or dry-ſhod o'er the billowy ſea have paſt,
As into form have chang'd unbodied thought.
Ye gay deluſions, whither are ye fled,
Begot by Health on Fiction's lovely form?
Will ye ne'er gently hover o'er my head?
With rapture ne'er again my boſom warm?
Say, canſt thou bid old Time with ſtealthy pace,
Retread the paths his feet have trod before?
The ſun mete backward his celeſtial race?
And we'll again our pleaſing dreams reſtore.
Again, from the full fount of life thy blood,
Swift burſting forth, ſhall ſwell each turgid vein;
Th' enthuſiaſtic ſpirits in a flood,
From each ſtrong nerve ſhall fire thy kindling brain.
This Fate withſtands;—and Reaſon, ſterneſt guide,
Contracts in narrower bounds th' excurſive view;
She plainly ſhews, throughout the fleeting tide
Of Life, what airy bubbles we purſue.
By her does conſcious Diffidence and Fear
Ambition's rage, and Fancy's whims controul,
The flighty purpoſes to youth ſo dear,
And that wild elaſticity of ſoul.
[56]
Hence then, ye vain, ye unſubſtantial joys,
Able the ſelf-deluded ſoul to bleſs.—
Yet when, alas, among life's real toys,
Shall I ſuch ſoothing happineſs poſſeſs!
ODE.
I.
PUT on, O Vice, thy proper hue,
In thy own native likeneſs ſtand,
Soon ſhalt thou find thy ſubjects few,
Thy throne uprear'd on ſand:
Abhorrent Nature with ſurpriſe
Would turn away her loathing eyes;
Ingenuous Youth with pain
Thy monſtrous ſhape would ſee
Cover'd with each toad-ſpotted ſtain;
While writhing Anguiſh, and pale Infamy,
Stalk cloſe behind, too deſperate to complain.
II.
But cunning as thou art,
Well doſt thou know the human heart;
Its intimate receſſes lie
Open to thy wily eye.
Hence thou with many a mimick grace,
Stol'n from the Virtues, as of old,
Unconſcious of an enemy ſo near,
Always open and ſincere,
[57] They ſtripp'd themſelves to lave
Beneath a grot in the tranſlucent wave,
Haſt deck'd thy odious face.
III.
Thy unſuſpecting lover thinks them true:
Of cloudy vapours made,
A thouſand dazzling forms parade
Before his cheated view:
A thouſand pleaſures move,
Breathing Mirth, and ſocial Love;
Some with quick-doubling feet,
And winning ſmiles, advance
In the mazy circling dance;
And then with more alluring ſtep retreat.
IV.
Others on waving wing,
Such notes of lively tranſport ſing;
Or varying now their ſtrain,
With ſuch dying melody complain;
That guided by th' enchanting ſound,
And ſwallowed up in hearing, every ſenſe,
The cheated victim o'er the magick ground,
Straying without defence,
His careleſs progreſs takes;
Till loſt among inextricable brakes,
Or in the midſt of ſome wild heath forlorn,
He finds himſelf at laſt;
Hears nothing but the wintry blaſt,
Which all his idle moanings flouts with ſcorn.
[58]V.
Fatigu'd and ſpiritleſs he lies,
Nor dares from the cold earth to riſe;
Night cloſes in.—Ah, where art thou,
Celeſtial Hope! thy face the darkneſs ſhrouds;—
Oh! through the quick-diſparting clouds
Appear, and by the moon's clear ray
Let him behold thy placid brow:
Faithful companion of thy way,
By his golden lance well known,
And firm-ingirding adamantine zone,
Bring Reſolution, in a purple veſt
By the young unfledg'd Moments dreſt.
VI.
O raiſe him in your arms! and while his veins
Yet flow with life, while any ſtrength remains,
Bear him away with ſwifteſt courſe:
For ſhould Sleep on him ſteal,
And with its dew his eye-lids ſeal,
Not even an immortal force
Could open them again; no more
Shall he behold the ſun of Virtue pour
Its radiance from the morning-ſky;
Black miſts ſhall round him ever fly;
Or he ſhall fall from ſome ſteep mountain's brow,
O'erwhelm'd by the deep flood that roars below.
The Madneſs of ASPASIA.
[59]CURSE on the wretch, whoe'er he be,
That the fond maid betrays,
Blaſts unſuſpecting Innocence,
And ſnares for Virtue lays;
Who works upon an eaſy mind,
Cauſes of anger feigns,
And to the Fair who loves him well,
Of cold diſdain complains;
And when ſhe opens all her ſoul,
Seizes th' unguarded time,
The ſudden ſtart of generous love,
And glories in his crime.
Such Cynthio, ſuch Aſpaſia was,
In prime of earlieſt youth;
She a devoted victim fell
To his pretended truth.
Pall'd by poſſeſſion, though her ſoul
Was worth a kingdom's price;
Yet all its charms could not retain
The harden'd ſlave of Vice.
[60]
He gave her up to all the pangs
Which Delicacy knows,
Which, conſcious of reproach and ſhame,
From niceſt feeling flows.
Yet ſhall avengement ſure, though ſlow,
Haraſs his guilty mind;
That pity he denied to her,
Will be from him confin'd.
The grief, th' unutterable grief,
Which to her ſire befell,
No pen, no other tongue but that
Of a fond ſire can tell.
Let us, my friends, ſays he, find out
Where the afflicted ſtrays;
Let us, if poſſible, at leaſt,
Give her ſome little eaſe;
Her boſom with the lenient balm
Of tender Pity fill,
Or ſit in ſilent woe around,
As the mute mourner, ſtill.
But ſtay, ſhe comes along this path:
Oh, thou heart-breaking ſight!
Before my eyes this hour had ſeen,
Would they'd been ſteep'd in night!
[61]
She's mad, my friends, I ſee it well,
I read it in her eye;
That wild glance thrown around, beſpeaks
Th' extreme of miſery.
She opes her pallid lips to ſpeak;
O ruin'd Excellence!
Pour forth thy unconnected thoughts,
And reave me of my ſenſe.
I've been to yonder wood to gather flowers,
There on a bank ſo ſteep,
I ſaw him lying faſt aſleep;
I ſtole on ſoftly to the bowers,
No ear
My ſilent ſtep could hear:
For why ſhould I awake,
Or cauſe him from his ſleep to ſtart?
But a fierce ſnake
My footſteps did purſue,
I nothing of it knew,
And ſpringing on me, eat out all my heart,
See what a frightful wound!
Ah! no, it cannot now be found.
So I ſnatch'd up my flowers in haſte,
And round my head have trac'd;
But they're too bright and gay,
As I wear them in my hair,
They make my complexion more faded appear:
Away! away! away!
[62] Yet I have been as fair as they;—
But ſhould they be betrayed,—
Depriv'd of their bloom,
They'd ſink down to the tomb,
And be pale and wan like me.
Be ſure with them let my hearſe be dreſt,
And ſtrew them o'er my earthly bed,
Where I ſhall ſhortly lie:
When the cold turf ſupports my head,
I'll take my fill of reſt;
The worm ſha'n't hear me ſigh.
But I pray you ſecret prove:
Tell it not to my love,
Nor let him that way go,—
For ſhould he come in,
And ſee me look ſo thin,
His heart would burſt in two.
No;—he has quite forgot,
He ſays he knows me not
Now in my miſery.
And will you believe him too?
Has madneſs ſeiz'd your mind?
Though you may think him true,
The faithleſs ſeas and wind,
Are not more falſe than he.
Methinks I can't but ſmile,
That he ſhould you beguile.—
I heed not what he ſays,
But ſtop up my ears,
And am deaf to his prayers.
[63] In vain his ſlatteries he diſplays,
And tells me I am fair
As the new-fallen ſnow,
That my keen eyes have pierc'd him through,
That me alone he loves.—No, no,
When once deceiv'd, beware.
Fool that I was! I thought him true.—
Oh ſnatch him, ſnatch him from my view—
Yet ye tormentors ſet him free,
Give him his liberty:
The pain his conſcience brings,
Is worſe than all your racks of ſteel,
Your whips and cruel ſtings:
I know what he muſt feel.—
He ſwore, ſo holy was his flame,
That I ſhould never know
A pleaſure or a woe,
But he ſhould feel the ſame.
So bid the bride-maids come;
I'll be dreſs'd all in white:—
We'll take the damaſk room;—
'Tis long before 'tis night.—
What ſay you? Loſt! 'tis all a jeſt;
It is not yet quite dark:
He ſtays till I'm undreſt.—
Is that the morning lark?
Not yet return'd? where fled? where fled?
Alas, I knew it well;
I knew that he was dead,
Although you would not tell.
[64] I'm wonderous cold: My hands are clay,—
My blood in froſt is bound;—
Yet force me not away:
We'll lie in the ſame ſpot of ground:
Under this marble ſtone,
I ſhall enjoy him all alone.
Oh! help, my friends! her ſhuddering limbs,
Her interrupted breath,
And thoſe convulſive ſtrugglings, ſpeak
The quick approach of death.
And are there powers in heaven above?
Will they this ſight behold?
Then Virtue droop thy fearful head,
Exulting Vice be bold.
Oh take her gently from the ground,
Alas! ſhe moves no more,
Her mortal pilgrimage is paſt,
And mine will ſoon be o'er.
An ELEGY.
Tranſpoſed from SPENSER.
[65]WHEN firſt before my youthful eyes,
I ſaw the form of Sylvia move,
I gaz'd upon her with ſurpriſe,
But not one thought had I of love.
My ſoul grew fond of fancies vain,
Tetchy and froward, nought could pleaſe,
Yet knew I not what gave me pain,
Nor thought it love, but ſome diſeaſe.
Soon as the beauty of the ſky
Night had defac'd with pallid hue,
Striving to ſleep I down ſhould lie,
But ſleep away far from me flew.
Inſtead thereof ſad ſighs and fears
About me cruel watch maintain'd,
Forth guſh'd th' involuntary tears,
And Sorrow then triumphant reign'd.
[66]
If any drop of ſlumb'ring reſt
Into my weary ſoul diſtill'd,
What frightful dreams would then infeſt!
What horrour through my boſom thrill'd!
Then up I from my bed ſhould ſtart,
And all my former grief renew,
Think on that image in my heart,
And all its heavenly charms review.
All night a ſtranger to repoſe,
To eaſe a ſtranger all the day,
No ſports, no company I choſe,
To Solitude a willing prey.
Thus car'd I not abroad to ſpread
Youth's plant when in its faireſt prime,
But let it all neglected, ſhed
Both fruit and flower before its time.
Alas, ſhould this be love, I cried!
Too late the fatal cauſe I found,
In vain each lenient art I tried,
Too deep had pierc'd the rankling wound.
Nor other cure had I for grief,
But my hard fortune to deplore,
To languiſh like the fallen leaf,
And feed with plaints th' impoiſon'd ſore.
[67]
Thus t'ward the ſilent grave I pac'd,
Thus by degrees decay'd my frame,
Till by the long and lingering waſte,
I like a pined ghoſt became.
INSCRIPTION for an ARBOUR.
ENTER, of welcome ſure, beneath this ſhade,
Ye ſacred few, whoſe eyes can ſee with ſcorn
The pomp of Luxury; who unſeduc'd
Can leave behind the city's noiſy hum;
And ſmitten with the charms of Innocence,
Pleas'd with the lowly glen, and verdant lawn,
The leafy covert, and ſecure retreat,
Can hear with calm delight the thruſh attune
His wildly-warbled note; can hear with joy
The village hind whiſtle his uncouth tune;
And th' herd loud-lowing in the dale beneath.
INSCRIPTION on a TREE in the centre of a Grove.
[68]THE Hamadryads, who inform this grove,
Are pure, nor underneath their ſheltering boughs
Harbour a thing profane; you they invite,
Ye virtuous Indolent, who ſcorn to act
In the corrupted ſcenes of public life,
The friends of heart-felt joy; with open arms
Receive Benevolence: hear the Muſe pour
Her artleſs ſong well-pleas'd; and in their ſhade
Bid Love's blithe form ſport all the ſummer long.
A RANT.
WINE, I feel thy rapt'ring power!
Thine is all the preſent hour.
Strong Delight tumultuous reigns,
And throbs throughout my burſting veins.
[69] All my heart is open wide,
Every bar is thrown aſide.
Prudence hence; it loaths to trace
The features of thy ſimpering face,
Thy ſober-meaſur'd gait to ſpy,
And leaden joy-forbidding eye.
Prudence hence; thy laws I ſcorn,
Thou of mean Deceit art born,
By fly Hypocriſy begot;
Noble Frankneſs heeds thee not.
Yet though all my ſallying ſoul
Expatiates wide, and hates controul;
Though my thoughts unbridled dare
Forward fly in wild career;
In their moſt impetuous courſe,
Let me, Reaſon, own thy force:
Though thou totter'ſt on thy throne,
Let me call thee ſtill my own;
For ſo mad I would not be,
As quite to loſe the ſight of thee.
An ODE.
[70]NO; ye beckon me in vain,
Your allurements I diſdain,
Powers of riot! God of wine,
Though thy gliſt'ning forehead ſhine
Through the garland which around
Is ſo negligently bound;
Though Joy flaſhes from thy eye;
Though the purple goblet high
Foams with wine; on thy right hand
Though the ſoul of Pleaſure ſtand,
And Wit, and unlac'd Gaiety,
Which, with Humour ever free,
Jeſt delighted; while beſide
Laughter ſits, and ope'ing wide
His mouth, lets forth a pealing din,
And ſhakes his jolly double chin:
God of wine, thou call'ſt in vain,
Thy allurements I diſdain.
Lo, ſhe comes, the Cyprian Queen
Mark her ſoul-inflaming mien;
[71] Thinly clad, the Luſcious Fair
In Modeſty's diſſembled air;
Hear the faintly-broken ſighs;
See her panting boſom riſe;
Two twin orbs of ſnowy white
Gently ſwelling to the ſight;
Languid eyes, extinct their fire,
Well they ſpeak intenſe deſire.
Does not maddening Fancy rove
Through every vein provoking love:
Snatch, O ſnatch, me to thy arms;
Feaſt on willing Beauty's charms,
Luxurious feaſt without controul,
And bathe in rapture all thy ſoul.
Cyprian Venus, hence away,
Scorn attends thy longer ſtay;
I deteſt the bought embrace;
Well I know thy practis'd face:
Hence to unſuſpicious Youth,
Palm on him pretence for truth.
By Experience rightly taught,
Mine be Reaſon's ſober thought;
Temperance, and her ſrugal hoard,
Slender fare, and homely board;
Mine be calm, domeſtick life,
The nuptial bed, the tender wife;
The ſmiling infant on my knee,
Chirping its little tale with glee.
[72]
So ſhall Health attend me ſtill,
So ſhall Pleaſure drink her fill
From the pureſt ſource of joy;
So ſhall Love without alloy,
Frolick o'er the hallow'd ground,
And wave his genial wing around.
Cyprian Venus, to my eyes,
When theſe home-felt tranſports riſe,
Bacchus' riot-breeding train,
And thy embraces I diſdain.
On the Dead Sparrow of LESBIA.
From Catullus.
O Venus! O ye Loves bewail!
And all who finer paſſions feel!
Dead is the ſparrow of my Fair,
The ſparrow, who her tender care,
Who her exceſs of fondneſs prov'd,
Whom dearer than her eyes ſhe lov'd.
For he the ſweeteſt mind poſſeſs'd;
Conſcious by whom he was careſs'd,
He ne'er from her endearments flew;
Not ſhe her mother better knew;
[73] But leaping round in wanton play,
Twitter'd to her the live-long day.
Now goes he to the gloomy bourn,
Whence no one ever may return.
Periſh, ye fatal ſhades, who ſpare
Nothing that's either good or fair!
Now have ye ſnatch'd with ruthleſs mind
The beſt and faireſt of his kind.
O Impious Deed! from chearful Day
To force the little wretch away!
For whom my Girl finds no relief,
Her ſwelling eyes are red with grief.
TO SLEEP.
WHERE are the downy ſlumbers fled
Which hover'd nightly o'er my head,
And ſoon as I my pillow preſt,
Clos'd my eyes in ſweeteſt reſt?
By wakeful Love forbid to ſtay,
Alas! too long ye keep away!
O come, ye vagrant ſlumbers, ſpread
Again your pinions o'er my head!
O, long unchear'd by ſweet repoſe,
Again my fainting eye-lids cloſe!
ELEGY.
[74]THE trueſt Love is ſtill reſerv'd and ſhy,
No look of confidence or boldneſs wears,
Known by the humble brow, and ſoften'd eye,
And full of wavering doubts, and anxious fears.
When I perceiv'd that Theſpia had o'ercome
My yielding heart, and fixt her empire there,
That from her hands I muſt receive my doom,
And all my future weal muſt flow from her:
What dreadful ſtrugglings did I undergo
'Twixt native baſhfulneſs and ſtrong deſire!
How did my ſenſes fluctuate to and fro,
'Twixt ſoft reſpectful Love, and Paſſion's fire!
Oft did I wiſh the ſecret to have told,
But awe and modeſt dread too much prevail'd;
Her preſence all my faculties controul'd,
And every ſettled reſolution fail'd.
At length with firm intent I ſought the Fair,
With firm intent to pour out all my heart,
To let her know the ſtory of my care,
And the long miſery of conſuming ſmart.
[75]
Her ſteps I to a ſecret garden drew,
She without guile, went innocently free,
No ill ſuſpecting, for no ill ſhe knew,
Nor fear'd to truſt herſelf alone with me.
At firſt to talk as uſual I aſſay'd,
Hoping thereby to gain a tranquil air,
And as along the walk we ſlowly ſtray'd,
Pluck'd frequent flowers, and ſtuck them in her hair.
But ſtill my ſhorten'd breath faſt went and came,
O'er my embarraſs'd limbs a ſtiffneſs hung,
My heart throbb'd ſtrong, and ſhook my lab'ring frame,
And fears, I know not how, unnerv'd my tongue.
Reſolv'd to ſpeak, ſome ſecret power reſtrain'd;
Aſham'd, and angry with myſelf I grew,
With crimſon conſciouſneſs my cheeks were ſtain'd,
And quick again the conſcious ſtains withdrew.
She whether unobſervant all the while,
Or elſe my ſtrange confuſion to relieve,
Indifferently talk'd with careleſs ſmile,
But I to what ſhe ſaid no heed could give.
Then chang'd my ſickle mind its firſt deſign,
Determin'd ſudden on ſome future day,
Then would I each perplexity untwine,
And every ardent with before her lay.
[76]
A tranſient calm ſucceeded in my breaſt;
Yet ſure, thought I, I have not ſo conceal'd,
But ſhe th' emotions of my ſoul has gueſs'd;
Perhaps ſhe wiſhes too they were reveal'd.
Though now my faultering tongue its aid denies,
She muſt have read the language of my ſoul,
Nor have I mark'd diſpleaſure in her eyes,
When forth from mine the glance of Love has ſtole.
Then turning round in haſte, as if afraid
Leſt Diffidence again might intervene,
Not daring to erect my timid head,
My heſitating lips diſclos'd my pain.
ELEGY.
IN nothing was I learn'd, but only how
To pen my flocks, and drive them to the field,
In the ſtrait furrow how to guide my plough,
And how my hoe and pruning-hook to wield.
Uncultivated was my mind, and mean,
My abject thoughts low faſten'd to the earth,
Till Love, with hand benign, broke Cuſtom's chain,
And bade me ſoar beyond my humble birth.
[77]
With beauty fir'd, I look'd around, and ſaw
The charms of Nature never ſeen before;
O Love, a willing vaſſal to thy law
I bend, I feel thy bleſſings, and adore.
Prompted by thee, as yet with trembling tongue
I call'd the Muſes, and deſir'd their aid,
My wood-notes in the hazel copſe I ſung,
And caught th' attention of the liſtening maid.
She liſten'd to my ſtrains, ſhe heard my tale,
While deepening bluſhes o'er her cheeks ariſe,
The ſoft conſenting ſigh my lips inhale,
I ſee the yielding languor of her eyes.
No; true to Love, if ever I eſtrange
For any other Fair, my thoughts from thee—
Why utter needleſs vows? I cannot change,
It is impoſſible, nor e'er will be.
O Love, I own thy ſway, by thee my mind
The face of low-liv'd Avarice diſdains,
The common vice of Paſſion unrefin'd,
The common vice among our country Swains.
Hence cares, and troubles: hence do they behold
The ſtate of riches with an envious eye,
They think not aught beyond the power of gold,
Nor know how Love can lift the ſoul on high.
[78]
O come, my Fair-one; I have thatch'd above,
And whiten'd all around my little cot,
I've ſhorn the hedges leading to the grove,
Nor is the ſeat, and willow bower forgot.
Low is the path of life in which I move,
Thou might'ſt perhaps have reach'd the higher ſphere
Of Wealth and noiſy Pride; but faithful Love,
And Innocence, and ſweet Content, are here.
ELEGY.
STILL, Blooming Health, upon my Theſpia's face,
Through the clear ſurface let thy tints appear,
O'er every feature ſhed thy modeſt grace,
And let thy balmy ſmiles be ever there.
Protect her where ſhe goes, ye Gentle Powers,
Pure Denizons of undulating air,
Whether from glowing noon-tides ſultry hours,
Or Evening's dewy ſhades, protect the Fair.
'Tis true, my Theſpia, I indeed confeſs
That ſelfiſh are the prayers and vows I pay,
With no diſintereſted voice I bleſs
The Gods, or pour the ſupplicating lay.
[79]
For, ah! from thee, and from thy looks, I find,
Warm to my heart each cordial joy muſt flow,
Sweet'ning the ills of Life; from thee my mind
Muſt taſte its keeneſt ſenſe of piercing woe.
Thine is the maſter-key each ſpring to rule,
Each hidden movement of my ſecret thought;
Sure thou wert bred in ſome Enchanter's ſchool,
Who all his ſpells and myſtick charms has taught.
Yet then would Holy Truth with thee reſide,
Truth which unbounded Confidence may truſt?
Yet then would mean Deceit fly far aſide?
And wild Caprice confounding falſe and juſt?
Wouldſt thou have ſaid, as I, ſtruck dumb with fear,
Tremblingly pointed out my humble bower,
Haply Tranquillity and Peace are there,
For them I ſcorn the gawdy farce of Power?
O thou ſincereſt! how ſhall I repay
The endleſs debt of gratitude I owe?
Quickly, my Fair, point out to me the way,
And ſhew the path, for thou alone canſt ſhew.
Though ſilent is thy tongue, thy ſpeaking eye,
The modeſt bluſhes o'er thy cheeks which rove,
That deep-drawn breath, that panting breaſt reply,
The ſole return is tenderneſs and love.
[80]
And is that all? and doſt thou aſk no more?
Whether I will or no, I needs muſt give
That gift, nay laviſh on thee all my ſtore,
Nor ceaſe to love thee till I ceaſe to live.
For ever rivetted within my heart
Thy lov'd, thy deareſt image ſhall remain:
Whene'er from thence I bid it to depart,
May I by ſome tremendous ſtroke be ſlain!
No common death I ſhall deſerve to die,
To pine by inches on a barren ſtrand,
Scorch'd by the 'vengeful Sun's ſevereſt eye,
Nor by one ſportive wandering Zephyr fann'd:
To freeze on ſome bleak rock: to glut the rage
Of howling beaſts within the dreary waſte:
Or live, in youth deſpis'd, in helpleſs age
Th' extremities of want and woe to taſte:
To walk a moving plague among mankind,
Shun'd, hated, and refus'd the alms I crave,
The only thing I wiſh for not to find,
A ſtill retirement in the peaceful grave:
In that fond hope to be deceiv'd, to hear
With ſoul yet conſcious, in the church-yard way
The fierce invective caſt upon my bier,
And Scornful Laughter dancing o'er my clay:
[81]
All this, and more, I ſhall deſerve to prove,
When led by changeſul Fancy's wanton eye,
I turn a faithleſs truant to thy love,
And on the wings of vagrant Falſehood fly.
ELEGY.
AH! whence, my Theſpia, can that anguiſh flow,
That ſilent anguiſh of expreſſive woe?
That ſigh which from thy ſtruggling boſom ſtole?
That look which pierces to my inmoſt ſoul?
Ah! ſay, my Theſpia, I conjure thee ſay,
To me the hidden cauſe thou mayſt diſplay:
Half of thyſelf, I claim my lawful ſhare;
Yet would to Heaven that I the whole might bear!
Pour out thy thoughts in confidence to me;
Thou muſt not hide from me thy miſery:
From thee would I my labouring heart confine?
And are not all its deepeſt ſecrets thine?
Wretch that I am! am I (who thee from pain
To ſhield, would pour out life at every vein),
Am I the cauſe? and couldſt thou ever ſpy
A look of coldneſs glancing from my eye?
To thee a cold blank look? O too refin'd,
And ſubtile errour of thy feeling mind!
[82]
A delicacy apt too deep to dive,
To each nice touch too tenderly alive!
Though I eſteem it as a bleſſing ſent,
As the more poliſh'd mind's chief ornament,
A ſacred ſpark kindled by Heaven's own ray,
Yet let not Senſibility betray.
Thou weep'ſt; where did my tongue profanely rove?
How could I blame thee? 'twas exceſs of Love.
O let me circle thee with ſtrict embrace,
Warm breaſt to breaſt, and glowing face to face,
(My fixed lips while ſpeechleſs rapture ties),
Imbibe the lucid moiſture of thine eyes,
Thy melting ſpirit in each breath inhale,
Gaze on thee till my cracking eye-ſtrings fail,
And quite o'erpower'd by Love's imperious ſway,
Feel all my fainting ſoul diſſolve away.
ELEGY.
[83]WHAT have I done, what crime in me is found,
What ſecret evil lurking in my breaſt,
That while all Nature elſe is ſmiling round,
Heaven has on me its heavieſt ſtroke impreſs'd?
Have I e'er dropp'd a wiſh of other's harm?
Or done an ill though ne'er to be reveal'd?
Have I not always breath'd th' emotion warm
On the chaſte lip of Social Virtue ſeal'd?
Ah! is it not enough that far away
From my own native happy fields I rove,
Far from each friendly name condemn'd to ſtray,
And torn by cruel force from her I love?
But muſt through her the barbed ſteel be ſent,
Which piercing, with ſevereſt torture wounds?
Muſt ſhe I love convey the puniſhment
Which Juſtice' ſelf muſt own exceeds its bounds?
On me rain all your woes, ye righteous Powers!
Though hard, I'll ſtrive the miſery to bear;
View Sickneſs ſteal away my lingering hours
On tainted wing, nor drop a pining tear:
[84]
But, ah! the gentle Virgin's tender frame—
O Bright-hair'd Chaſtity! O Angel Truth!
If ye are aught beyond an empty name,
Save, ſave in pity Innocence and Youth.
Shield, ſhield me from the racking thought! I ſpy
From her cold cheeks the bland ſuffuſion fled,
Dead is the piercing magick of her eye,
The luſtre-darting beam of ſenſe is dead.
She calls on me.—Oh, ſnatch the laſt embrace!
Woods, rivers, mountains, countries intervene;
Oh curſe of curſes! ne'er that lovely face
Again ſhall I behold; e'en the laſt ſcene.
Some dreary ſatisfaction might afford,
Some ſolace to the madneſs of Deſpair,
Gloating in ſecret on his gloomy hoard,
With eye intorted viewing what is there.
FINIS.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4762 The land of the muses a poem in the manner of Spenser With poems on several occasions By Hugh Downman. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5F52-E