And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes Nor all that glisters gold. THE PROGRESS OF POESY A PINDARIC ODE Φωνάντα συνετοῖσιν· ές Δὲ τὸ πᾶν ἑρμηνέων Χατίζει. PINDAR, Olympiad II. v. 152. I. I. AWAKE, Æolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. A thousand rills their mazy progress take: Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign; Headlong, impetuous, see it pour; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar. 40 5 ΙΟ I. 2. Oh! Sov'reign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, 15 And frantic Passions hear thy soft control. On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car, And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command. Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king The terrors of his beak, and lightnings of his eye. I. 3. Thee the voice, the dance, obey, 20 25 Temper'd to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalia's velvet-green The rosy-crownèd Loves are seen On Cytherea's day With antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures, 30 With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way: O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love. II. I. Man's feeble race what ills await! Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, 40 And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, 45 And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Muse? Night, and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, He gives to range the dreary sky; Till down the eastern cliffs afar Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war. 50 II. 2. In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, 55 Th' unconquerable Mind, and freedom's holy flame. 65 Where each old poetic mountain Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast. III. I. Far from the sun and summer-gale, In thy green lap was Nature's darling laid, To him the mighty mother did unveil 75 80 85 Her awful face: the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smiled. "This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear He pass'd the flaming bounds of Place and Time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, 95 100 He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, Clos'd his eyes in endless night. Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resounding pace. But ah! 't is heard no more Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit Wakes thee now? Tho' he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far-but far above the Great. 115 120 |