(The text is taken from "The Miscellaneous Essays and Occasional Writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq., Vol. III, 1792.)

ODE ON MUSIC / Hark! hark! the sweet vibrating lyre Sets my attentive soul on fire; Thro' all my frame with pleasures thrill Whilst the loud treble warbles shrill, And the more slow and solemn bass Adds charm to charm and grace to grace.

Sometimes in sweetly languid strains The guilty trembling string complains: How it delights my ravished ear When the expiring notes I hear Vanish distant and decay!They steal my yielding soul away.

Neatly trip the merry dance, And lightly touch and swiftly glance; Let boundless transport laugh aloud Sounds madly ramble mix and crowd, Till all in one loud rapture rise, Spread thro' the air and reach the skies.

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Inscribed to the officers of the 35th regiment on their embarkation for the expedition against Louisbourg1 Now warmer suns, once more bid nature smile,

The new-born spring, peeps from the teaming soil:

From ice the streams, the fields from snow are free,

And blossoms swell on every pregnant tree: The softened season melts in sudden show'rs,

And April all her flow'ry treasures pours; Well might I sing the early warbling lay Of rural songsters at the dawn of day; The riv'let winding thro' the long drawn vale,

The new cloth'd mountain, the green tufted dale;

ΙΟ

Or shepherd's pipe, that in melodious

strains,

Welcomes the spring to valleys, hills and

plains.

But these I leave, and for the aspiring

TO CELIA

On her wedding day

Whilst Heav'n with kind propitious ray,
Smiles, Celia, on thy nuptial day,
And ev'ry sympathising breast
With transport glows to see thee blest;
Whilst present joys the hours beguile,
And future prospects seem to smile.
Shall not my muse her tribute bring
And gladly touch the trembling string?
I know 'tis usual at such times
To pay respect in pompous rhymes;
To bid the whole celestial race
With brightest glories fill the place,
And from their mansions hasten down
The nuptial rites with bliss to crown:
As if each goddess might be said
To be the poet's waiting maid:
But I who have no power at all,
Such high divinities to call,
Must lay those stratagems aside
And with plain fable treat the bride.

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30

As Cupid thro' the azure way
Did late with wand'ring pinion stray,
The little urchin chanc'd to spy;
His master Hymen passing by;
Surpris'd with conscious guilt and shame,
Knowing his conduct much to blame,
With nimble haste he strove to shroud
His presence in a fleecy cloud.
But Hymen saw, nor could he fail
To see a wing-oh! piteous tale!
Peep from behind the misty veil.
Th' observing god with eager joy,
Rush'd on and seiz'd th' affrighted boy.—
"Well, master Cupid, are you caught
At last, he cry'd, I almost thought
You, far from hence, had taken flight,
And quite forsook the realms of light;
For whereso'er I choose to stray,
I seldom meet you in my way.-
Wherefore so shy? since well you know 40
It is not very long ago

Since Jove in council did decree,
Yourself and services to me;
That it might ever be your care,

To warm those breasts whom I would pair

With mutual love, and bless my bonds,
By mingling hearts with joining hands.
Instead of which, you rambling go,
And sad confusions make below:
Whilst my softest bondage often falls, 50
Where custom points or int'rest calls.
But Jove himself shall quickly hear,
How much his dictates you revere;
Yet e'er we part, 'tis my desire,

You kindle love's celestial fire
In the fair Celia's peaceful breast,
And make her am'rous Strephon blest."
With piteous tone, and tear-full eye,
Thus did the little god reply:
"This, Hymen, this I must deny,
Do any other service choose,
There's nought but this I can refuse;
I have my word and honour giv'n,
And firmly sworn by earth and Heav'n,
That love shall Celia ne'er molest,

60

No dart of mine e'er wound her breast."
Hymen, first made an angry pause,
Then spake "Thou traitor to my cause!
Is't thus with mortals you conspire,
To break my torch and quench my fire; 70
I oft have wonder'd why that maid
My soft encircling bands delay'd;
The wonder ceases now; I find
That you and Celia have combin'd,
My pow'r celestial to dispise
And rob me of my fairest prize.
But Celia soon in wedlock's chain

Shall shine the fairest of my train:
Virtue her days with peace shall crown,
And I will show'r my blessings down; 80
Her happy state shall others move,
To seek the joys of weded love."
Much would the weeping boy have said;
But Hymen urg'd, and love obey'd:
A shaft he chose from out the rest,
And sunk it deep in Celia's breast.
Soft thro' her frame the poison crept;
And Hymen laugh'd and Cupid wept.
Then upwards, far from human fight,
They wing'd their way in speedy flight, 90
Wrapt in a glorious blaze of light.

39

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30

Firm fix'd it stands; as stand it must,
Nor heeds the wasp's unpitied fall:
The humbled critic rolls in dust,
So stunn'd, so bruis'd, he scarce can
crawl.

POLITICAL BALLADS
DATE OBOLUM BELLESARIO 1
Written in the year 1777

As I travell'd o'er the plain,
About the close of day,

I chanc'd to wander in a lane,
A lane of mire and clay.