ON HAYLEY'S PORTRAIT [Written in letter to Hayley, Nov. 25, 1792. Published by T. Wright in Letters of Cowper, 1904.] ACHILLES and Hector and Homer and all When your face appears shall come down from the wall, And mine, theme of many an angry remark, Shall then hide its pick-pocket looks in the dark. ON RECEIVING HAYLEY'S PICTURE [Written Dec. (?), 1792. Published by Johnson, 1815. There is a copy among the Ash MSS.] IN language warm as could be breath'd or penn'd, THANKS FOR A GIFT OF PHEASANTS [Written in letter to Johnson, Jan. 31, 1793. Published by Johnson, 1824.] IN Copeman's ear this truth let Echo tell,- [Written in letter to Lady Hesketh, Feb. 10, 1793. Published by Hayley, 1803.] My pens are all split, and my ink-glass is dry; Neither wit, common sense, nor ideas have Ï. [Written in letter to Lady Hesketh, March, 1793. Published in Unpublished Poems of Cowper, 1900.] AN epigram is but a feeble thing With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting. [Written in letter to Hayley, July 7, 1793. Published by Hayley, 1803.] Ан brother Poet! send me of your shade, 6 EPIGRAMS ON HIS GARDEN SHED [Written July 24 and Aug. 15, 1793. Published by Hayley, 1803.] I BEWARE of building! I intended Rough logs and thatch, and thus it ended. II Instead of a pound or two, spending a mint ON A LETTER OF MISS FANSHAWE [Written in letter to Lady Hesketh, Aug. 29, 1793. Published by Hayley, 1803.] HER pen drops eloquence as sweet TO GRAVINA, ON HIS TRANSLATING THE AUTHOR'S SONG ON A [Written Aug., 1793. Published by Hayley, 1803.] ON FLAXMAN'S PENELOPE [Written Sept., 1793. Published by Hayley, 1803.] ON RECEIVING HEYNE'S VIRGIL FROM HAYLEY [Written Oct., 1793. Published by Johnson, 1815.] I SHOULD have deem'd it once an effort vain To sweeten more sweet Maro's matchless strain, But from that error now behold me free, Since I receiv'd him as a gift from Thee. NOTES PREFACE TO THE FIRST VOLUME [This was written and even printed for issue with the first edition of Cowper's first volume in 1782; but at the earnest request of Johnson the publisher it was omitted from the first edition and not inserted until the fifth edition in 1793, when it could no longer injure the wellestablished sale of Cowper's Poems. Some copies of the first edition containing it are extant.] WHEN an Author, by appearing in print, requests an audience of the Public, and is upon the point of speaking for himself, whoever presumes to step before him with a preface, and to say, "Nay, but hear me first," should have something worthy of attention to offer, or he will be justly deemed officious and impertinent. The judicious reader has probably, upon other occasions, been beforehand with me in this reflection: and I am not very willing it should now be applied to me, however I may seem to expose myself to the danger of it. But the thought of having my own name perpetuated in connexion with the name in the title page is so pleasing and flattering to the feelings of my heart, that I am content to risk something for the gratification. This Preface is not designed to commend the Poems to which it is prefixed. My testimony would be insufficient for those who are not qualified to judge properly for themselves, and unnecessary to those who are. Besides, the reasons which render it improper and unseemly for a man to celebrate his own performances, or those of his nearest relatives, will have some influence in suppressing much of what he might otherwise wish to say in favour of a friend, when that friend is indeed an alter idem, and excites almost the same emotions of sensibility and affection as he feels for himself. It is very probable these Poems may come into the hands of some persons, in whom the sight of the Author's name will awaken a recollection of incidents and scenes which, through length of time, they had almost forgotten. They will be reminded of one, who was once the companion of their chosen hours, and who set out with them in early life, in the paths which lead to literary honours, to influence and affluence, with equal prospects of success. But he was suddenly and powerfully withdrawn from those pursuits, and he left them without regret; yet not till he had sufficient opportunity of counting the cost, and of knowing the value of what he gave up. If happiness could have been found in classical attainments, in an elegant taste, in the exertions of wit, fancy, and genius, and in the esteem and converse of such persons as in these respects were most congenial with himself, he would have been happy. But he was not-He wondered (as thousands in a similar situation still do) that he should continue dissatisfied, with all the means apparently conducive to satisfaction within his reach-But in due time the cause of his disappointment was discovered to him-He had lived without God in the world. In a memorable hour, the wisdom which is from above visited his heart. Then he felt himself a wanderer, and then he found a guide. Upon this change of views, a change of plan and conduct followed of course. When he saw the busy and the gay world in its true light, he left it with as little reluctance as a prisoner, when called to liberty, leaves his dungeon. Not that he became a Cynic or an Ascetic-A heart filled with love to God, will assuredly breathe benevolence to men. But the turn of his temper inclining him to rural life, he indulged it, and the providence of God evidently preparing his way and marking out his retreat, he retired into the country. By these steps the good hand of God, unknown to me, was providing for me one of the principal blessings of my life; a friend and a counsellor, in whose company for almost seven years, though we were seldom seven successive waking hours separated, I always found new pleasure. A friend, who was not only a comfort to myself, but a blessing to the affectionate poor people, among whom I then lived. Some time after inclination had thus removed him from the hurry and bustle of life, he was still more secluded by a long indisposition, and my pleasure was succeeded by a proportionable degree of anxiety and concern. But a hope, that the God whom he served would support him under his affliction, and at length vouchsafe him a happy deliverance, never forsook me. The desirable crisis, I trust, is now nearly approaching. The dawn, the presage of returning day, is already arrived. He is again enabled to resume his pen, and some of the first fruits of his recovery are here presented to the public. In his principal subjects, the same acumen which distinguished him in the early period of life, is happily employed in illustrating and enforcing the truths of which he received such deep and unalterable impressions in his maturer years. His satire, if it may be called so, is benevolent, (like the operations of the skilful and humane surgeon, who wounds only to heal) dictated by a just regard for the honour of God, an indignant grief excited by the profligacy of the age, and a tender compassion for the souls of men. His favourite topics are least insisted on in the piece entitled Table Talk; which therefore, with some regard to the prevailing taste, and that those who are governed by it may not be discouraged at the very threshold from proceeding farther, is placed first. In most of the larger Poems which follow, his leading design is more explicitly avowed and pursued. He aims to communicate his own perceptions of the truth, beauty, and influence of the religion of the Bible. A religion which, however discredited by the misconduct of many who have not renounced the Christian name, proves itself, when rightly understood, and cordially embraced, to be the grand desideratum, which alone can relieve the mind of man from painful and unavoidable anxieties, inspire it with stable peace and solid hope, and furnish those motives and prospects which, in the present state of things, are absolutely necessary to produce a conduct worthy of a rational creature, distinguished by a vastness of capacity, which no assemblage of earthly good can satisfy, and by a principle and pre-intimation of immortality. At a time when hypothesis and conjecture in philosophy are so justly exploded, and little is considered as deserving the name of knowledge, which will not stand the test of experiment, the very use of the term experimental, in religious concernments, is by too many unhappily rejected with disgust. But we well know, that they who affect to despise the inward feelings which religious persons speak of, and to treat them as enthusiasm and folly, have inward feelings of their own, which, though they would, they cannot suppress. We have been too long in the secret ourselves to account the proud, the ambitious, or the voluptuous, happy. We must lose the remembrance of what we once were, before we can believe, that a man is satisfied with himself, merely because he endeavours to appear so. A smile upon the face is often but a mask worn occasionally and in company, to prevent, if possible, a suspicion of what at the same time is passing in the heart. We know that there are people, who seldom smile when they are alone, who therefore are glad to hide themselves in a throng from the violence of their own reflections; and who, while by their looks and their language they wish to persuade us they are happy, would be glad to change their conditions with a dog. But in defiance |