« ZurückWeiter »
An awful horroor fills the gloomy woods,
AN EPISTLE And bluish mists rise from the smoking foods:
TO MY FRIEND MR. ELIJAH FENTON, AUTHOR 01 • Haste, Daphnis, haste to fold thy woolly care,
MARIAMNE, A TRACEDY. The deepening shadesimbrown th' unwholesome air.
If thy proud Muse the tragic buskin wears,
While, regularly bold, she nobly sings
Strains worthy to detain the ears of kings;
If by thy hand th’ Homeric' lyre be strung, From a long race of ancient kings,
The lyre returns such sounds as Homer sung. Patron and friend! thy honour'd name
The kind compulsion of a friend obey, At once is my defence and faine.
And, though reluctant, swell the lofty lay; (sound,
Then listening groves once more shall catch the There are, who with fond transport praise While Grecian Muses sing on British ground. The chariot thundering in the race;
Thus calm and silent thy own Proteus? roves Where conquest won, and palms bestow'd, Lift the proud mortal to a god.
Through pearly mazes, and through coral groves;
But when, emerging from the azure main, The man who courts the people's voice,
Coercive bands th' unwilling God constrain, And doats on offices and noise ;
Then heaves his bosom with prophetic fires, (spires. Or they who till the peaceful fields,
And his tongue speaks sublime, what Heaven inAnd reap what bounteous Nature yields,
Envy, 'tis true, with barbarous rage invades Unmov'd, the merchant's wealth behold,
Whater'n fierce lightning spares, the laurel shades; Nor hazard happiness for gold ;
And critics, biass'd by mistaken rules, Untempted by whole worlds of gain
Like Turkish zealots, reverence none but fools. To stem the billows of the main.
But praise from such injurious tongues is shame; The merchant, when the storm invades,
They rail the happy author into fame: Envies the quiet of the shades;
Thus Phæbus through the zodiac takes his way,
And rises amid monsters into day.
Oh vileness of mankind! when writing well
Becomes a crime, and danger to excel ! Some careless waste the mirthful day
While noble scorn, my friond, such insult sees, With generous wines, and wanton play,
And flies from towns to wilds, from men to trees. Indulgent of the genial hour,
Free from the lust of wealth, and glittering snares, By spring, or rill, or shade, or bower.
That make th' unhappy great in love with cares, Some hear with joy the clanging jar
Me humble joys in calm retirement please, Of trumpets, that alarm to war;
A silent happiness, and learned ease. While matrons tremble at the breath
Deny me grandeur, Heaven, but goodness grant ! That calls their sons to arms and death.
A king is less illustrious than a saint:
Hail, holy Virtue! come, thou heavenly guest, The sportsman, train'a in storms, defies
Come, fix thy pleasing empire in my breast ! The chilling blast, and freezing skies:
3 Thou know'st her influence, friend! thy chearful Unmindful of his bride, in vain
Proclaims the innocence and peace within ; [inien Soft beauty pleads ! along the plain
Such joys as none but sons of Virtue know, The stag he chases, or beguiles
Shine in thy face, and in thy bosom glow. The furious boar into his toils.
So when the holy mount the prophet trod, For you' the blooming ivy grows,
And talk'd familiar as a friend with God, Proud to adorn your learned brows;
Celestial radiance every feature shed, Patron of letters you arise,
And ambient glories dawn'd around his head. Grow to a god, and mount the skies.
Sure what th' unthinking great mistaken call Humbly in breezy shades I stray
Their happiness, is folly, folly all! Where Sylvans dance, and Satyrs play;
Like lofty mountains in the clouds they hide Contented to advance my claim,
Their haughty heads, but swell with barren pride ; Only o'er men without a name;
And, while low vales in useful beauty lie, Transcribing what the Muses sing
Heave their proud naked summits to the sky. Harmonious to the pipe or string.
In honour, as in place, ye great, transcend !
An angel fall'n, degenerates to a fiend : But if indulgently you deign
Th'all-chearing Sun is honour'd with his shrines; To rank me with the Lyric train,
Not that he moves aloft, but that he shines.
* Mr. Fenton translated four books of the Odys. sey.
? See the story of Proteus, Odyssey, lib.4, VARIATION.
translated by Mr. Fenton.
: Thou feel'st her power, my friend, &c.
Why fames the star on Walpole's generous breast ? | Studious from ways of wicked men to keep, Not that he's highest, but because he's best; Who mock at vice, while grieving angc's weep. Fond to oblige; in blessing others, blest.
Come, taste, my friend! the joys retirement brings, How wondrous few, by avarice uncontrold,
Look down on royal slaves, and pity kings. Have virtue to subdue the thirst of gold !
More happy! laid where trees with trees entwin'd The shining dirt the sordid wretch ensnares
In bowery arches tremble to the wind, 'To buy, with mighty treasures, inighty cares ;
With innocence and shade like Adam blest, Blindly he courts, misguided by the will,
While a new Eden opens in the breast ! A specious good, and meets a real ill:
Such were the scenes descending angels trod So when Ulysses plough'd the surgy main;
In guiltless days, when man convers'd with God. When now in view appear'd his native reign,
Then shall my lyre to loftier sounds be strung, His wayward mates th’ Æolian bag unbind,
Inspir'd by Homer', or what thou hast sung: Expecting treasures, but out rush': a wind;
My Muse from thine shall catch a warmer ray; The sudden hurricane in thunder roars,
As clouds are brighten'd by the god of day. Buffets the bark, and whirls it from the shores. So trees unapt to bear, by art, refin'd,
With shoots tunobled of a generous kind, • O Heaven! by what vain passions man is sway'd,
High o'er the ground with fruits adopted rise,
And lift their spreading honours to the skies.
BETWEEN A LADY AND FIER LOOKING-GLASS, WHILE Whilst niggard souls indulge their craving thirst,
SHE HAD THE GREEN-SICKNESS. Rich without bounty, with abundance curst; THE
gay Ophelia view'd her face The Prodigal pursues expensive vice,
In the clear crystal of her glass; And buys dishonour at a mighty price;
The lightning from her eye was fled, On beds of state the splendid glutton sleeps, Her cheek was pale, the roses dead. While starring Merit unregarded weeps:
Then thus Ophelia, with a frown:His ill-plac'd bounty, while scorn'd Virtue grieves,
“Art thou, false thing, perfidious grown! A dog, a tawning sycophant, receives;
I never could have thought, I swear,
To find so great a slanderer there!
“ False thing! thy malice I defy ! the sails? Go, fatter Vice!' for seldom flattery fails:
More brittle far than brittle thou,
Would every grace of woman grow,
If charms so great so soon decay,
The bright pussession of a day!
But this I know, and this declare,
Thať thou art false, and I am fair."
And thus with angry tone reply'd:
And dash'd th' offender to the ground;
When lo! the parts pale looks disclose,
An hundred pale Ophelias shone ;
Ye beaux, who tempt the fair and young,
Ye men of compliment and lace! O Compton, when this breath we once resign,
Behold this image in the glass : My dust shall be as eloquent as thine !
The wondrous force of flattery prove, Till that last hour which calls me hence away To cheat fond virgins into love: To pay that great arrear which all must pay; Oh! may I tread the paths which saints have trod, * Dr. Broome translated eight books of the Who knew they walkid before th’all-seeing God!
Though pale the cheek, yet swear it glows So rush the globes with maðy a flery round,
Tear up the rock, or rend'the stedfast mound.
Death shakes aloft her dart, and o'er her prey Though with both eyes the cheat they view. Stalks with dire joy, and marks in blood her way From hateful truths the virgin flies;
Mountains of heroes slain deform the ground,
The shape of man half bury'd in the wound:
The treacherous Earth beneath their footsteps
Her entrails tremble, and her bosom heaves ;
Sudden in bursts of fire eruptions rise,
And whirl the torn battalions to the skies.
Thus earthquakes, rumbling with a thundering WITU THE PRAISE OF PEACE AND RETIREMENT
sound, WRITTEN IN 1710.
Shake the firm world, and rend the cleaving ground;
Rocks, hills, and groves, are tost into the sky, Secessus mei non desidiæ nomen, sed tranquillita-And in one mighty ruin nations die. tis accipiant.
See! through th' encumber'd air the ponderous
Bears magazines of Death within its womb; [bomb Happy, thou Flandria, on whose fertile plains,
The glowing orb displays a blazing train, In wanton pride luxurious Plenty reigns;
And darts bright horrour through th'ethereal plain ; Happy! had Heaven bestow'd one blessing more,
* It mounts tempestuous, and with hideous sound And plac'd thee distant from the Gallic power!
Wheels down the heavens, and thunders o'er the But now in vajn thy lawns attract the view,
ground: They but invite the victor to subdue:
Th' imprison'd Deaths rush dreadful in a blaze, War, horrid War, the sylvan scene invades,
And mow a thousand lives, a thousand ways; (arise And angry trumpets pierce the woodland shades;
Earth floats with blood, while spreading flames Here shatter'd towers, proud works of many an age, From palaces, and domes, and kindie half the skies Lie dreadful monuments of human rage;
Thus terribly in air the comets roll,
And shoot malignant gleams froin pole to pole; Thy very dust, though undistinguish'd trod,
'Tween worlds and worlds they move, and from their
hair Compos'd, perhaps, some hero, great and good, Who nobly for his country lost his blood!
Shake the blue Plague, the Pestilence, and War. Ev'n with the grave, the haughty spoilers war, But who is he, who stem bestrides the plain, And Death's dark mansions wide disclose to air: Who drives triumphant o'er huge hills of slain; O'er kings and saints insulting stalk, nor dread Serene, while engines from the hostile tower To spurn the ashes of the glorious dead.
Rain from their brazen mouths an iron slower ; See! the Britannic lions wave in air !
While turbid fiery smoke obscures the day, See ! mighty Marlborough breathing death and war! Hews thro' the deathful breach his desperate way : From Albiou's shores, at Anna's high commands,
Sure Jove descending joins the inartial toil; The dauntless hero pours his martial bands.
Or is it Marlborough, or the great Argyle? As when in wrath stern Mars the Thunderer sends Thus, when the Grecians, furious to destroy, To scourge his foes; in pomp the god descends; Level'd the structures of imperial Troy; He inounts his iron car; with fury burns;
Here angry Neptune hurl'd his vengeful mace, The car, fierce-rattling, thunders as it turns; 'There Jove o'erturn'd it froin its inmost base: Gloomy he grasps his adamantine shield,
Though brave, yet vanquished, she contess'd the And scatters armies o'er th' ensanguin'd field:
odds; With delegated wrath thus Marlborough glows, Her sons were heroes, but they fought with gods. In vengeance rushing on his country's foes.
Ah! what new horrours rise? In deep array See! round the hostile towers embattled stands
The squadrons form! aloft the standards play! His bander'd host, embolied bands by bands!
The captains draw the sword! on every brow Hark! the shrill trumpet sends a mortal sound, Determin'd ralour lowers! the truinpets blow! And prancing horses shake the solid ground; See! the brave Briton delves the cavern'd ground 'The surly drums brat terrible afar,
Through the hard entrails of the stubborn niound ! With all the dreadful music of the war;
And undismay'd by Death, the fue invades From the drawn swords effulgent flames arise, Through dreadful horrorus of infernal shades ! Flash o'er the plains, and lighten to the skies; The heavens above, the fields and floods beneath, Glare formidably bright, and shine with death;
VARIATIONS. In fiery storms descends a murderous shower, 5 Ev’n the stern souls of beroes feel dismay; Thick flash the lightnings, fierce the thunders roar.
Proud temples nod, aspiring towers give way. As when in wrathful mood almighty Jove
Dreadful it mounts, tempestuous in its tlight, Aims his dire bolts red-hissing from above;
It sinks, it falls, Earth groans beneath its weight Through the sing'd air, with unresisted sway,
Th’ imprison'u Deaths rush out in smoke and tire, The forky vengeance rends its flaming way,
The mighty bleed, heaps crush'd on heaps expire. And, while the firipament with thunder roars, From their fouudations hurls imperial towers: • The barriers burst, wide-spreading flaines arises
In vain the wall's broad base deep-rooted lies, I see proud victors in triumphal cars,
scars! Nor careless dream of subterranean foes,
Or listen till the raptur'd soul takes wings,
Charm me, ye sacred leaves', with loftier themes, Wrap towers, walls, men, in fire, in blood, in death. With opening Heavens, and angels rob'd in flames:
Ye restless passions, while I read, be awd:
Here I behold how infant Time began,
How the dust mov'd and quicken'd into man; His wandering flock, and tunes the sprightly reed: Here through the flowery walks of Eden rove, Till from some rifted chasm the billows rise,
Court the soft breeze, or range the spicy grove; And, foaming, burst tumultuous to the skies;
There tred on hallow'd ground where angels trod, Then, roaring dreadful o'er the delug'd plain,
And reverend patriarchs talk'd as friends with Sweep herds and hinds in thunder to the main.
Or hear the voice to slumbering prophets gičen, Bear me, ye friendly powers, to gentler scenes,
Or gaze on visions from the throne of Heaven, To shady bowers, and never-fading greens ! Where the shrill trumpet never sounds alarms,
But nobler yet, far nobler scenes advance ! Nor martial din is heard, nor clash of arms; Why leap the mountains ? why the forests dance Hail, ye soft seats ! ye limpid springs and floods !
Why fashes glory from the golden spheres ? Ye towery meads, ye vales, and woods !
Rejoice, O Earth, a God, a God appears! Ye limpid floods, that ever murmuring flow! A God, a God, descending angels sing, Ye verdant meads, where flowers eternal blow! And mighty Seraphs shout, Behold your King! Ye shady vales, where Zephyrs ever play!
Hail, virgin-born! Lift, lift, ye blind, your eyes} Ye woods,where little warblers tune their lay! Sing, oh! ye dumb! and on! ye dead, arise!
Tremble, ye gates of Hell! in noblest strains Here grant me, Heaven, to end my peaceful days, Tell it aloud, ye Heaveus! the Saviour reigns! And steal myself from life by slow decays; Draw health from food the temperate garden yields, of transient life, in no unuseful ease !
Thus lonely, thoughtful, may I run the race From fruit or herb the bounty of the fields;
Enjoy each hour, nor as it fleets away, Nor let the loaded table groan beneath
Think life too short, and yet too long the day; Slain animals, the horrid feast of Death: With age unknown to pain or sorrow blest,
Of right observant, while the soul attends To the dark grave retiring as to rest;
Each duty, and makes Heaven and angels friends,
And thou, fair Peace, from the wild floods of war While gently with one sigh this mortal frame Dissolving turuş to ashes, whence it came;
Come dove-like, and thy blooming olive bear; While my freed soul departs without a groan,
Tell me, ye victors, what strange charnus ye find
In Conquest, that destruction of mankind! And, joyful, wings her fight to worlds unknown.
Unenvy'd may your Jaurels ever grow,
Let Ganges from afar to slaughter train
His sable warriors on th' embattled plain ;
Let Volga's sons in iron squadrons rise, Illustrious Vanity, and glorious Vice !
And pour in millions from her frozen skies : Coine, thou chaste maid, here ever let me stray,
Thou, gentle Thames, flow thou in peaceful streams, While the calm hours stcal unperceived away;
Bid thy bold sons restrain their martial flames.
In thy own laurel's shade, great Marlborough, Here court the Muses, while the Sun on high Flames in the vault of Heaven, and fires the sky : There charm the thonghts of conquer'd worlds
[away: Or while the night's dark wings this globe sur
Guardian of England ! born to scourge her foes, round, And the pale Moon begins her solemn round,
Speak, and thy word gires half the world repose ; Bid my free soul to starry orbs repair,
Sink down, ye hills; eternal rocks, subside; Those radiant worlds that float in ambient air,
Vanish, ye forts; thou, Ocean, drain thy tide: And with a regular confusion stray
We safety boast, defended by thy fame, Oblique, direct, along th' aërial way:
And armies in the terrour of thy name! Or when Aurora, from her golden bowers,
Now fix o'er Anna's throne thy victor blade. Exhales the fragrance of the balmy flowers,
War, be thou chain'd! ye streams of blood, be Reclin'd in silence on a mossy bed,
stay'd! Consult the learned volumes of the dead;
Though wild Ambition her just vengeance feels, Fall’n realms and empires in description view,
She wars to save, and where she strikes, she heals Live o'er past times, and build whole worlds anew; So Pallas with her javelin smote the ground, Or from the bursting tombs in fancy raise, And peaceful olives flourish'd from the wou sirdi The sons of Fame, who liv'd in ancient days: And lo! with haughty stalk the warrior treads ! Stern legislators, frowning, lift their heads !
? The Holy Scriptures
Against our reason fondly we believe,
Assist the fraud, and teach it to deceive :
As the faint traveller, when Night invades, CHARLES LORD CORNWALLIS,
Sees a false light relieve the ambient shades,
IN EYRE OF ALL HIS MAJESTY'S PORESTS, CHASES, But the false guide shines only to betray:
O'er dangerous marshes, or through thorny brakes;
Yet obstinate in wrong he toils to stray,
With many a weary stride, o'er many a painful way.
Odyssey, lib. 15.
So man pursues the phantom of his brain,
And buys his disappointment with his pain: o Tuou, whose virtues sanctify thy state ! At length when years invidiously destroy O great, without the vices of the great!
The power to taste the long-expected joy,
Then Fortune envious sheds her golden shor'ra,
Thus o'er the urns of friends departed weep
The mournful kindred, and fond vigils keep;
Ambrosial ointments o'er their ashes shed,
And scatter useless roses on the dead;
And when no more avail the world's delights,
The spicy odours, and the solemn rites, And plant her laurels in more fruitful ground;
With fruitless pomp they deck the senseless tombang The grateful Muse shall in return bestow
And waste profusely floods of vain perfumes Her spreading laurels to adorn thy brow.
Thus, guarded by the tree of Jove, a flower Shoots from the earth, nor fears th' inclement And, when the fury of the storm is laid, (shower;
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE LADY JANE WHARTON.
Soft gales breathe gently through the sky;
The lark sweet warbling on the wing Instant the heavenly guardian cleaves the skies,
Salutes the gay return of Spring:
The silver dews, the vernal showers,
Call forth a bloomy waste of flowers ;
Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose !
Thou, beauteous flower, a welcome guest, Though far remov'd from the mistaking eye;
Shalt flourish on the fair-one's breast,
Shalt grace her hand, or deck her hair,
The flower most sweet, the nymph inost fair,
Breathe soft, ye winds: be calm, ye skies ! Firm to thy king, and to thy country brave;
Arise, ye flowery race, arise ! Loyal, yet free; a subject, not a slave;
And haste thy beauties to disclose,
Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose ! • Few know to ask, or decently receive; And fewer still with dignity to give :
But thou, fair nymph, thyself survey If earn'd hy flattery, gifts of highest price
In this sweet offspring of a day :
That iniracle of face must fail;
Thy charms are sweet, but charms are frail :
Swift as the short-liv'd flower they ily,
At morn they bloom, at evening die :
Yet Time destroys what Sickness spares. And give the favour lustre by the grace;
Now Helen lives alone in fame,
And Cleopatra 's but a name.
And thou must be, what they are now,
Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose