« PreviousContinue »
It is a dreadful pleasing sight!
No air of breath disturbs the drowzy woods, The flowers attract, the arms affright;
No whispers murmur from the silent floods ! The flowers with lively beauty bloom,
The Moon sheds down a silver-streaming light, The arms denounce an instant doom.
And glads the melancholic face of night: Thus, when the Britons in array
Now clouds swift-skimming veil her sullied ray, Their ensigns to the Sun display,
6 Now bright she blazes with a fuller day! in the same flag are lilies shown,
The stars in order twinkle in the skies, And angry lions sternly frown ;
And fall in silence, and in silence rise : On bigh the glittering standard flies,
Till, as a giant strong, a bridegroom gay,
The Sun springs dancing through the gates of day:
And whirl the car along th' etherial plain :
A stream of glory, and a flood of day.
Was e'er the grave, or regions of the night,
Say, why the thriving hail with rushing sound Whirlwinds and thundrous storms his chariot drew Pours from on high, and rattles on the ground ? 'Tween worlds and worlds, triumphant as it few: Why hover snows, down-wavering by degrees, He stretch'd his dark pavilion o'er the foods, Shine from the hills, or glitter from the trees? Bade bills subside, and rein'd th' obedient clouds; Say, why, in lucid drops, the balmy rain Then from his awful gloom the godhead spoke, With sparklings gems impearls the spangled plain! And at his voice affrighted Nature shook.
Or, gathering in the vale, a current flows, Vain man! who boldly with dim Reason's ray
And on each flower a sudden spring bestows? Vies with his God, and rivals his full day!
Say, why with gentle sighs the evening breeze But tell me now, say how this beauteous fraine
Salutes the flowers, or murmurs through the trees? Of all things, from the womb of nothing came;
Or why loud winds in storms of vengeance fly, When Nature's Lord, with one almighty call,
Howl o'er the main, and thunder in the sky? From no-where rais'd the world's capacious ball?
Say, to what wondrous magazines repair Say if thy hand directs the various rounds
The vicwless beings, when serene the air? of the vast Earth, and circumscribes the bounds ? Till, from their dungeons loos’d, they roar aloud, How orbs oppos'd to orbs amid the sky,
Upturn whole oceans, and toss cloud on cloud, In concert move, and dance in harmony?
While waves encountering waves, in mountains
driv'n What wondrous pillars their foundations bear When hung self-balanc'd in the fluid air?
Swell to the starry vault, and dash the Heaven. Why the vast tides sometimes with wanton play
Know'st thou, why comets threaten in the air, In shining mazes gently glide away;
Heralds of woe, dertruction, and despair, Anon, why swelling with impetuous stores
The plague, the sword, and all the forms of war? Tuinultuous tumbling, thunder to the shores;
On ruddy wings why forky lightning flies, By thy command does fair Aurora rise,
And rolling thunder grumbles in the skies? And gild with purple beams the blushing skies;
Say, can thy voice, when sultry Sirius reigns, The warbling lark salutes her chearful ray,
And suns intensely glowing cleave the plains, And welcomes with his song the rising day;
Th' exhausted urns of thirsty springs supply, The rising day ambrosial dew distils,
And mitigate the fever of the sky? THY ambrosial dew with balmy odour fills
Or, when the heavens are charg'd with gloomy The flowers, the flowers rejoice, and Nature smiles.
And half the skies precipitate in floods, (clouds,
Chase the dark horrour of the storm away,
Restrain the deluge, and restore the day?
By thee doth Summer deck herself with charms, . A solemn stillness reigns o'er land and seas.
Or hoary Winter lock his frozen arms? * Sleep sheds o'er all his balm: to sleep resign'd,
Say, if thy hand instruct the rose to glow,
Or to the lily give unsullied snow?
Swell into orbs, and load the bending trees,
The fainting murinur dies upon the floods,
And sigbing breezes lull the drowzy woods. Doubling the terrous of the midnight hour. 6 Now bright she blazes, and supplies the day.
Whose various kinds a various hue unfold,
Come, blissful mourner, wisely sad, With crimson blush, or burnish into gold?
In sorrow's garb, in sable clad,
Henceforth, thou, Care, my hours cmploy!
While to my sighs and groans by turns,
From graves the miduight Echo mourns.
Open thy marble jaws, 0 Tomb,
Though earth conceal me in thy womb! A friendly radiance, mingling ray with ray?
And you, ye worms, this frame confound, Say, canst thou rule the coursers of the Sun,
Ye brother reptiles of the ground !Or lash the lazy sign, Boötes, on?
O life, frail offspring of a day! Dost thou instruct the eagle how to fly,
"Tis puffd with one short gasp away! To mount the viewless winds, and tower the sky?
Swift as the short-liv'd flower it flies,
With cries we usher in our birth;
Pain, and Disease, and Sorrow wait.
While childhood reigns, the sportive boy The lion, from thy hand expect his food ?
Learns only prettily to toy ; Stung with keen hunger from his den he comes,
And, while he roves from play to play, Ranges the plains, and o'er the forest roams :
The wanton trifles life away. ' He snuffs the track of beasts, he fiercely roars, Doubling the horrors of the midnight hours :
When to the noon of life we rise, With sullen majesty he stalks away,
The man grows elegant in vice; And the rocks tremble while he seeks his prey:
To glorious guilt in courts he climbs, Dreadful he grins, he rends the savage brood
Vilely judicious in his crimes.
Man seems already half a ghost;
What art thou, Gold, but shining earth?
Thou, common Fame, but common breath?
Of public Fame, applause is noise ;
Er'n victors are by conquest curst,
The bravest warrior is the worst.
Look round on all that man below His sprightly blood an even course disdains,
Idly calls great, and all is show! Pours from his heart, and charges in his veins ;
All, to the coffin from our birth, He braves the spear, and mocks the twanging bow,
In this vast toy-shop of the Earth.
Coine then, O friend of virtuous woe,
Thy steps... adieu, vain world, adieu!
DAPHNIS AND LYCIDAS:
A PASTORAL. Adieu vain mirth, and noisy joys !
THEY SING THE DIFFERENT SUCCESS AND ABSENCE OP Ye gay desires, deluding toys! Thou, thoughtful Melancholy, deign To hide me in thy pensive train!
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE If by the fall of murmuring floods,
LORD VISCOUNT TOWNSHEND, Where awful shades embrown the woods,
OF RAINHAM, IN NORFOLK.
Sylvæ sunt consule dignæ.
VARIATION. · He mocks the beating storms and wintery showers, How calm the evening! see the falling day Making night hideous, as he sternly roars. Gilds every mountain with a ruddy ray!
In gentle sighs the softly whispering breeze
DAPHYIS. Salutes the powers, and waves the trembling trees; With a feign'd passion, she I love, beguiles, Hark! the night-warbler, from yon vocal boughs, And, gayly false, the dear dissembler smiles; Glads every valley with melodious woes!
But let her still those blest deceits employ, Swift through the air her rounds the swallow takes, Still may she feign, and cheat me into joy! Or sportive skims the level of the lakes. The timorous deer, swift-starting as they graze, On yonder bank the yielding nymph reclin'd, Bound off in crowds, then turn again, and gaze. Gods! how transported I, and she how kind! See! how yon swans, with snowy pride elate, There rise, ye flowers, and there your pride display, Arch their high necks, and sail along in state ! There shed your odours where the fair one lay! Thy frisking Hocks safe-wandering crop the plain, And the glad season claiins a gladsome strain.' Begin Ye echoes listen to the song,
Once, as my fair one in the rosy bower And, with its sweetness pleas’d, each note prolong! Soft I approach'd, and, raptur'd with the bliss,
In gentle slumbers pass'd the noon-tide honr, LYCIDAS.
At leisure gaz'd, then stole a silent kiss : Sing, Muse and oh! may Townshend deign to view She wak’d; when conscious smiles, but ill represt, What the Muse sings, to Townshend this is due !
Spoke no disdain! Was ever swain so blest? Who, carrying with him all the world admircs, From all the world illustriously retires;
With fragrant apples from the bending bough And, calmly wandering in his Rainham, roves
In sport my charmer gave her swain a blow : By lake, or spring, by thicket, lawn, or groves; Where verdant hills, or vales, where fountains stray, Pled, till I seiz’d and kiss'd the blooming maid:
The fair offender, of ny wrath afraid, Charm every thought of idle pomp away;
She smil'd, and vow'd if thus her crimes I pay, Unenvy'd views the splendid tuils of state,
She would offend a thousand times a day!
O'er the steep mountain, and the pathless mead, The burthen and repose of half mankind,
From my embrace the lovely scorner fled;
Rut, stumbling in the fight, by chance she fell:
vw-but what-her lover will not tell! Nor longer would be great, but void of strife, Clos'd in soft peace his eve of glorious life.
From me my fair one fled, dissembling play, Feed round, my goats; ye sheep, in safety graze;
And in the dark conceal'd the wanton lay; Ye winds, breathe gently while I tune my lays.
But laugh'd, and show'd by the directing sound The joyous Spring draws nigh! ambrosial showers She only hid, in secret to be found. Unbind the earth, the earth unbinds the flowers, The flowers blow sweet, the datlodils unfold
Far hence to happier climes Belinda strays, The spreading glories of their blooming gold. But in my breast her lovely image stays;
Oh! to these plains again, bright nymph, repair, As the gay hours advance, the blossoms shoot, Or from my breast far hence thy image bear! The knitting blossoms harden into fruit; And as the Autumn by degrees ensues,
Come, Delia, come! till Delia bless these seats, The mellowing fruits display their streaky hues.
Hide me, ye groves, within your dark retreats!
In hollow groans, ye winds, around me blow! When the winds whistle, and the tempest roars, Ye bubbling fountains, murmur to my woe! When foaming billows lash the sounding shores, The bloomy beauties of the pastures die,
Where'er Belinda roves, ye Zephyrs, play! And in gay heaps of fragrant ruin lie.
Where'er she treads, ye Rowers, adorn the way! DAPHNIS.
From sultry suns, ye groves, my charmer keep! Severe the storms! when shuddering Winter binds Ye bubbling fountains, murmur her to sleep! The earth! but Winter yields to vernal winds. Oh! Love, thy rigour my whole life deforms, If streams smooth-wandering, Delia, yield delight; More cold than Winter, more severe than storms ! If the gay rose, or lily, please thy sight;
Smooth streams here wander, here the roses glor, Sweet is the Spring, and gay the Sammer hours, Here the proud lilies rise to shade thy brow! When balmy odours breathe fr. in painted flowers ; But neither sweet the Spring, nor Summer gay, Aid me, ye Muses, while I loud proclaim When she I love, my charmer, is away.
What love inspires, and sing Relinda's name:
W: ft it, ye breezes, to the hills around; To savage rocks, throngh bleak inclement skies, And sport, ye echoes, with the favourite sound. Deaf as those rocks, from me my fair one flies : Oh! virgin, cease to fly! th' inclement air (spare! | 'Thy name, my Delia, shall improve my song, May hurt thy charms!--but thou hast charmıs to the pleasing labour of my ravish'd tongue :
Her name to Heren propitious Zephyrs bear,
And breathe it to her kindred angels there!
But see! the Vight dispiays her starry train,
the sweet pains, and shares the heavenly woes. "Soft silver dews impcarl the glittering plain; VOL XII.
An awful horrour fills the gloomy woods,
AN EPISTLE And bluish mists rise from the smoking floods:
TO MY FRIEND MR. ELIJAH FENTON, AUTHOR OF * Haste, Daphnis, haste to fold thy woolly care,
MARIAMNE, A TRAGEDY. The deepening shades imbrown 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, MÆcenas, whose high lineage springs
If by thy hand th' Homeric' lyre be sttung, From a long race of ancient kings,
The lyre returns such sounds as Homer sunge Patron and friend! thy honour'd name
The kind compulsion of a friend obey, At once is my defence and fame.
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, einerging 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 ina And reap what bounteous Nature yields,
Envy, 'tis true, with barbarous rage intades Unmov'd, the merchant's wealth behold,
Whatev'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, But soon relaunches from the shore,
And rises amid monsters into day. Dreading the crime of being poor!
Oh vileness of mankind! when writing well
Becomes a crime, and danger to excel ! Some careless waste the mirthful day
While noble scorn, my friend, such insult sees, With generous wines, and wanton play,
And fies from towns to wilds, from men to trees. Indulgent of the genial hour,
Free from the lust of wealth, and giittering 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 arrns and death.
A king is less illustrious than à saint:
llail, holy Virtue! come, thou heavenly guest, The sportsman, train'd 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; (miem 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 halighty 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 Odyssey.
2 See the story of Proteus, Odyssey, lib. 4, VARIATION.
translated by Mr. Fenton,
3 Thou feel'st her power, my friend, &c.
Why flames the star on Walpole’s generous breast ? | Studious from ways of wicked men to keep,
Come, taste, my friend! the joys retirement brings, How wondrous few, by avarice uncontrold,
Look down on royal slaves, and pity kings. Hare 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, mighty 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 bağ unbind,
Inspir'd by Homer", or what thou hast sung: Expecting treasures, but out rush'd 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 refind,
With shoots ennobled of a generous kind,
And lift their spreading honours to the skies.
BETWEEN À LADY AND HER LOOKING-GLASS, WHILE Whilst niggard souls indulge their craving thirst,
SHE HAD THE GREEN-SICKNESS.
In the clear crystal of her glass;
The lightning from her eye was fled,
Her cheek was pale, the roses dead.
Then thus Ophelia, with a frown :
“Art thou, false thing, perfidious grown A dog, a fawning sycophant, receives;
I never could have thought, I swear,
“ False thing! thy malice I defy !
More brittle far than brittle thou, Soft through the ear the pleasing bane distils:
Would every grace of wornan grow,
If charms so great so soou decay,
The bright possession of a day!
But this I know, and this declare, l'nfashionably good, and hope to thrive! Trees that aloft with proudest honours rise,
That 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 ;
Away the frighted virgin few,
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 Battery 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 walk'd before th' all-seeing God!