'Tis true,' said I, 'not void of hopes I came, For who so fond as youthful bards of fame? But few, alas! the casual blessing boast, So hard to gain, so easy to be lost. 505 How vain that second life in others' breath, 510 505 How vain that second life in others' breath. Pope had not yet learned to discard the affectation of publicly scorning that for which he sighed in private. He was now twenty-three; and if he ever determined on his pursuit in life, he had already determined on it: he must be a poet, or be nothing: fame in literature must be his reward, or he must be content with total obscurity; for it was the only object of his existence. By a striking contradiction between the language and the feeling, we find him selecting for the display of his discontent the close of a poem, whose intire subject is intellectual distinction; the security of its honors; and the vividness, purity, and elevation of its enjoyments: but this has been the 'poetic fashion' in all ages; and even the keen understanding of Pope submitted to the fashion of his tribe. The 'Temple of Fame' exhibits the early style of its author its characteristics are, command of language, variety of description, and pomp of imagery. It might take for its motto Chaucer's rich and high-wrought picturing of his crystal temple: In which were more images Of gold stondinge in sundrie stages, Of golde work than I sawe evir. 515 Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call; 520 ELEGY ΤΟ THE MEMORY OF AN UNFORTUNATE LADY. THE probable features of this 'Lady's' story have been already given in the Life of the poet, for they scarcely amount to more than probability: her name, her passion, the object of the passion, her end, and even her existence, are still equally obscure. The opinions of the biographers on the moral of the poem are more distinct: they almost universally charge Pope with the defence of suicide. Johnson, in his abhorrence of all vice, pronounces the lady to have been impatient, violent, and ungovernable;' adding, 'that poetry has not often been worse employed than in dignifying the amorous fury of a raving girl.' Yet this ardor of rebuke is thrown away: the moralist is fighting with a shadow: the poem contains no defence of suicide : Pope wisely withdraws the act from sight, and covers the crime under the glowing generalities of poetry. ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF AN UNFORTUNATE LADY. WHAT beckoning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? Why bade ye else, ye powers! her soul aspire 10 15 20 From these perhaps, ere Nature bade her die, And separate from their kindred dregs below; 25 30 But thou, false guardian of a charge too good, Thou mean deserter of thy brother's blood! See on these ruby lips the trembling breath, These cheeks now fading at the blast of death: Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before, And those love-darting eyes must roll no more. Thus, if eternal justice rules the ball, 35 Thus shall your wives, and thus your children fall: 40 On all the line a sudden vengeance waits, POPE. I. M 46 |