« PreviousContinue »
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all With arms and legs according well, he makes, To love, each was to each a dearer self;
As humor leads, an easy-winding path : Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power
While, from his polish'd sides, a dewy light Of giving joy. Alone, amid the shades,
Effuses on the pleas'd spectators round. Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'd
This is the purest exercise of health, The rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart, The kind refresher of the summer heats ; Or sigh'd and look'd unutterable things.
Nor, when cold winter keens the brightening flood, So pass*d their life, a clear united stream, Would I, weak-shivering, linger on the brink. By care unruffled ; till, in evil hour,
Thus life redoubles, and is oft preserv'd, The tempest caught them on the tender walk, By the bold swimmer, in the swift illapse Heedless how far, and where its mazes stray'd, of accident disastrous. Hence the limbs While, with each other blest, creative love Knit into force; and the same Roman arm, Still bade eternal Eden smile around.
That rose victorious o'er the conquer'd Earth, Presaging instant fate, her bosom heav'd
First learn’d, while tender, to subdue the wave. Unwonted sighs, and stealing oft a look
Even from the body's purity, the mind Of the big gloom, on Celadon her eye
Receives a secret sympathetic aid. Fell tearful, wetting her disorder'd cheek.
Close in the covert of an hazel copse, In vain assuring love, and confidence
Where winded into pleasing solitudes In Heaven, repress’d her fear; it grew, and shook Runs out the rambling dale, young Damon sat Her frame near dissolution. He perceiv'd Pensive, and pierc'd with love's delightful pangs. Th' unequal conflict; and as angels look
There to the stream that down the distant rocks On dying saints, his eyes compassion shed, Hoarse-murmuring fell, and plaintive breeze that With love illumind high. “Fear not," he said,
play'd "Sweet innocence! thou stranger to offence, Among the bending willows, falsely he And inward storm! He, who yon skies involves Of Musidora's cruelty complain’d. In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee She felt his flame ; but deep within her breast, With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft In bashful coyness, or in maiden pride, That wastes at midnight, or th' undreaded hour The soft return conceal'd; save when it stole Of noon, flies harmless : and that very voice In sidelong glances from her downcast eye, Which thunders terror through the guilty heart, Or from her swelling soul in stifled sighs. With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine. Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to his vows, 'Tis safety to be near thee sure, and thus
He fram'd a melting lay, to try her heart; To clasp perfection!” From his void embrace, And, if an infant passion struggled there, Mysterious Heaven! that moment, to the ground, To call that passion forth. Thrice-bappy swain ! A blacken'd corse, was struck the beauteous maid. A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate But who can paint the lover, as he stood,
Of mighty monarchs, then decided thine. Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life,
For, lo! conducted by the laughing Loves, Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of woe? This cool retreat his Musidora sought: So, faint resemblance! on the marble tomb, Warm in her cheek the sultry season glow'd; The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands, And, rob’d in loose array, she came to bathe For ever silent, and for ever sad.
Her fervent limbs in the refreshing stream. As from the face of Heaven the shatter'd clouds What shall he do? In sweet confusion lost, Tumultuous rove, th' interminable sky
And dubious flutterings, he awhile remain'd : Sublimer swells, and o'er the world expands A pure ingenuous elegance of soul, A purer azure. Through the lighten'd air A delicate refinement, known to few, A higher lustre and a clearer calm,
Perplex'd his breast, and urg'd him to retire : Diffusive, tremble; while, as if in sign
But love forbade. Ye prudes in virtue, say, Of danger past, a glittering robe of joy,
Say, ye severest, what would you have done ? Set off abundant by the yellow ray,
Meantime, this fairer nymph than ever blest Invests the fields; and Nature smiles reviv'd. Arcadian stream, with timid eye around
'Tis beauty all, and grateful song around, The banks surveying, stripp'd her beauteous limbs, Join'd to the low of kine, and numerous bleat To taste the lucid coolness of the flood. of flocks thick-nibbling through the clover'd vale. Ah, then! not Paris on the piny top And shall the hymn be marr’d by thankless man, of Ida panted stronger, when aside Most favor'd; who with voice articulate
The rival goddesses the veil divine Should lead the chorus of this lower world ? Cast uncontin'd, and gave him all their charms, Shall he, so soon forgetful of the hand
Than, Damon, thou; as from the snowy leg, That hush'd the thunder, and serenes the sky, And slender foot, th' inverted silk she drew; Extinguish'd feel that spark the tempest wak’d, As the soft touch dissolv'd the virgin zone ; That sense of powers exceeding far his own, And, through the parting robe, the alternate breast, Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears?
With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze Cheer'd by the milder beam, the sprightly youth In full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth, Speeds to the well-known pool, whose crystal depth How durst thou risk the soul-distracting view; A sandy hottom shows. Awhile he stands As from her naked limbs, of glowing white, Gazing th' inverted landscape, half afraid
Harmonious swell'd by Nature's finest band, To meditate the blue profound below;
In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn ; Then plunges headlong down the circling flood. And fair-expos'd she stood, shrunk from herself, His ebon tresses and his rosy cheek
With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breeze Instant emerge ; and through th' obedient wave, Alarm’d, and starting like the fearful fawn? At each short breathing by his lip repell’d,
Then to the flood she rush'd; the parted flood And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns
Now call'd abroad enjoy the falling day:
Now to the verdant Portico of woods,
By that kind school where no proud master reigns,
And pour their souls in transport which the Sire Rising again, the latent Damon drew
Of love approving hears, and calls it good. Such maddening draughts of beauty to the soul, Which way, Amanda, shall we bend our course? As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptur'd thought The choice perplexes. Wherefore should we choose? With luxury too daring. Check'd, at last,
All is the same with thee. Say, shall we wind By love's respectful modesty, he deem'd
Along the streams? or walk the smiling mead ? The theft profane, if aught profane to love Or court the forest-glades? or wander wild Can e'er be deemd ; and, struggling from the shade Among the waving harvests? or ascend, With headlong hurry fled: but first these lines, While radiant Summer opens all its pride, Trac'd by his ready pencil, on the bank
Thy hill, delightful Shene?+ Here let us sweep With trembling hand he threw. Bathe on, my fair, The boundless landscape : now the raptur'd eye, Yet unbeheld, save by the sacred eye
Exulting swift, to huge Augusta send, Of faithful love : I go to guard thy haunt,
Now to the sister-hillst that skirt her plain, To keep from thy recess each vagrant foot, To lofty Harrow now, and now to where And each licentious eye." With wild surprise, Majestic Windsor lifts his princely brow. As if to marble struck, devoid of sense,
In lovely contrast to this glorious view, A stupid moment motionless she stood :
Calmly magnificent, then will we turn So stands the statute* that enchants the world, To where the silver Thames first rural grows. So bending tries to veil the matchless boast, There let the feasted eye unwearied stray ; The mingled beauties of exulting Greece. Luxurious, there, rove through the pendent woods Recovering, swift she flew to find those robes That nodding hang o'er Harrington's retreat, Which blissful Eden knew not; and, array'd And stooping thence 10 Ham's embowering walks, In careless haste, th’alarming paper snatch'd.
Beneath whose shades, in spotless peace retird, But, when her Damon's well-known hand she saw, With her the pleasing partner of his heart, Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer train
The worthy Queensbury yet laments his Gay, Of mixt emotions, hard to be describ’d,
And polish'd Cornbury wooes the willing Muse. Her sudden bosom seiz'd : shame void of guilt, Slow let us trace the matchless vale of Thames : The charming blush of innocence, esteem
Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt And admiration of her lover's flame,
In Twit'nam's bowers, and for their Pope implore By modesty exalted : even a sense
The healing godio to royal Hampton's pile, Or self-approving beauty stole across
To Clermont's terrac'd height, and Esher's groves,
By the soft windings of the silent Mole,
Enchanting vale! beyond whate'er the Muse
Has of Achaia or Hesperia sung!
And joys to see the wonders of his toil.
Heavens! what a goodly prospect spreads around, Discreet: the time may come you need not fly." Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires,
The Sun has lost his rage : his downward orb And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all Shoots nothing now but animating warmth, The stretching landscape into smoke decays ! And vital lustre ; that with various ray [Ileaven, Happy Britannia ! where the queen of arts, Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of Inspiring vigor, liberty abroad Incessant roll'd into romantic shapes,
Walks, uncontin'd, ev'n to thy farthest cots, The dream of waking fancy! Broad below, And scatters plenty with unsparing hand. Cover'd with ripening fruits, and swelling fast Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime; Into the perfect year, the pregnant Earth
Thy streams unfailing in the summer's drought; And all her tribes rejoice. Now the soft hour Unmatch'd thy guardian oaks ; thy valleys float Of walking comes : for him who lonely loves With golden waves : and on thy mountains flocks To seek the distant hills, and there converse Bleat numberless; while, roving round their sides, With Nature ; there to harmonize his heart, Bellow the blackening herds in lusty droves. And in pathetic song to breathe around
Beneath thy meadows glow, and rise unquellid The harmony to others. Social friends,
Against the mower's scythe. On every hand Attun'd to happy unison of soul;
Thy villas shine. Thy country teems with wealth To whose exalting eye a fairer world, Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse,
† The old name of Richmond, signifying in Saxor Displays its charms; whose minds are richly fraught shining or splendor. With philosophic stores, superior light;
1 Highgate and Hampstead.
$ In his last sickness. • The Venus or Medici.
And property assures it to the swain,
Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign ; Pleas’d, and unwearied, in his guarded toil. Aiming at lawless power, though meanly sunk Full are thy cities with the sons of art;
In loose inglorious luxury. With him
His friend, the British Cassius,* fearless bled;
By ancient learning, to th' enlighten'd love
Soon as the light of dawning Science spread Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves
Her orient ray, and wak'd the Muses' song.
Unfit to stand the civil storm of state,
With firm but pliant virtue, forward still Scattering the nations where they go; and first To urge his course ; him for the studious shade Or on the listed plain, or stormy seas.
Kind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear, Mild are thy glories too, as o'er the plans
Exact, and elegant; in one rich soul, Of thriving peace thy thoughtful sires preside ; Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tully join'd. In genius, and substantial learning, high;
The great deliverer he! who from the gloom For every virtue, every worth renown'd;
Of cloister'd monks, and jargon-teaching schools, Sincere, plain-hearted, hospitable, kind;
Led forth the true Philosophy, there long
Daughter of Heaven! that, slow-ascending still,
With radiant finger points to Heaven again. And more heroic peace, when govern'd well, The generous Ashleyt thine, the friend of man; Combine ; whose hallow'd names the virtuous saint, Who scann'd his nature with a brother's eye, And his own Muses love; the best of kings! His weakness prompt to shade, to raise his aim, With him thy Edwards and thy Henries shine, To touch the finer movements of the mind, Names dear to fame ; the first who deep impress'd And with the moral beauty charm the heart. On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms,
Why need I name thy Boyle, whose pious search That awes her genius still. In statesmen thou, Amid the dark recesses of his works, And patriots, fertile. Thine a steady More, The great Creator sought? And why thy Locke, Who, with a generous, though mistaken zeal, Who made the whole internal world his own? Withstood a brutal tyrant's lustful rage,
Let Newton, pure Intelligence, whom God Like Cato firm, like Aristides just,
To mortals lent, to trace his boundless works Like rigid Cincinnatus nobly poor,
From laws sublimely simple, speak thy fame
Creative fancy, and inspection keen
A genius universal as his theme;
Nor shall my verse that elder bard forget,
The gentle Spenser, Fancy's pleasing son ; To glut the vengeance of a vanquish'd foe. Who, like a copious river, pour'd his song Then, active still and unrestrain'd, his mind O'er all the mazes of enchanted ground: Explor'd the vast extent of ages past,
Nor thee, his ancient master, laughing sage, And with his prison-hours enrich'd the world ;
Chaucer, whose native manners-painting verse, Yet found no times, in all the long research, Well-moraliz'd, shines through the Gothic cloud So glorious, or so base, as those he prov'd,
Of time and language o'er thy genius thrown. In which he conquer'd, and in which he bled. May my song sof en, as thy daughters I, Nor can the Muse the gallant Sidney pass,
Britannia, hail for beauty is their own, The plume of war! with early laurels crown'd, The feeling heart, simplicity of life, The lover's myrtle, and the poet's bay.
And elegance, and taste : the faultless form, A Hampden too is thine, illustrious land,
Shap'd by the hand of harmony; the cheek, Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul, Where the live crimson, through the native white Who stemm'd the torrent of a downward age Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom, To slavery prone, and bade thee rise again, And every nameless grace; the parted lip. In all thy native pomp of freedom bold.
Like the red rose-bud moist with morning-dew, Bright at his call, thy age of men effulg'd,
Breathing delight; and, under flowing jet, of men on whom late time a kindling eye Or sunny ringlets, or of circling brown, Shall turn, and tyrants tremble while they read. The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast; Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew The grave where Russel lies; whose temper'd blood, * Algernon Sidney, With calmest (heerfulness for thee resign'd,
† Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of Shaftesbury.
The look resistless, piercing to the soul,
Her lowest sons, and clothe the coming year, And by the soul inform’d, when drest in love From field to field the feather'd seeds she wings. She sits high-smiling in the conscious eye.
His folded flock secure, the shepherd home Island of bliss! amid the subject seas,
Hies, merry-hearted; and by turns relieves That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up, The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming pail ; At once the wonder, terror, and delight,
The beauty whom perhaps his witless heart, or distant nations; whose remotest shores
Unknowing what the joy-mixt anguish means, Can soon be shaken by thy naval arm;
Sincerely loves, by that best language shown Not to be shook thyself, but all assaults
Of cordial glances, and obliging deeds. Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave. Onward they pass, o'er many a panting height
O Thou! by whose almighty nod the scale And valley sunk, and unfrequented; where
At fall of eve the fairy people throng,
But far about they wander from the grave
Against his own sad breast to lift the hand Courage compos'd, and keen; sound Temperance, Of impious violence. The lonely tower Healthful in heart and look; clear Chastity, Is also shunn'd; whose mournful chambers hold, With blushes reddening as she moves along, So night-struck fancy dreams, the yelling ghost. Disorder'd at the deep regard she draws;
Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge, Rough Industry; Activity untir’d,
The glow-worm lights his gem; and through the With copious life informd, and all awake:
dark, While in the radiant front superior shines
A moving radiance twinkles. Evening yields That first paternal virtue, public zeal ;
The world to Night; not in her winter-robe
In mantle dun. A faint erroneous ray,
Low walks the Sun, and broadens by degrees, Flings half an image on the straining eye:
And rocks, and mountain-tops, that long retain'd
The silent hours of love, with purest ray (So Grecian fable sung,) he dips his orb;
Sweet Venus shines; and from her genial rise,
As thus th' effulgence tremulous I drink,
With cherish'd gaze, the lambent lightnings shoot
Across the sky; or horizontal dart
Portentous deem'd. Amid the radiant orbs,
That more than deck, that animate the sky,
The life-infusing suns of other worlds;
And as he sinks below the shading Earth,
With awful train projected o'er the Heavens, That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy, The guilty nations tremble. But, above Diffusing kind beneficence around,
Those superstitious horrors that enslave Boastless, as now descends the silent dew; The fond sequacious herd, to mystic faith To him the long review of order'd life
And blind amazement prore, the enlighten'd few, Is in ward rapture, only to be felt.
Whose godlike minds philosophy exalts, Confessid from yonder slow-extinguish'd clouds, The glorious stranger hail. They feel a joy All ether softening, sober Evening takes
Divinely great; they in their powers exult, Her wonted station in the middle air;
That wondrous force of thought, which mourting A thousand shadows at her beck. First this
spurns She sends on Earth ; then that of deeper dye This dusky spot, and measures all the sky; Steals soft behind ; and then a deeper still,
While, from his far excursion through the wilds
Of barren ether, faithful to his time,
| Through which his long ellipsis winds; perhaps Åmusive floats. The kind impartial care
To lend new fuel to declining suns,
With thee, serene Philosophy, with thee, So wills Eternal Providence, sits deep. And thy bright garland, let me crown my song! Enough for us to know that this dark state Effusive source of evidence, and truth!
In wayward passions lost, and vain pursuits,
And ever rising with the rising mind.
The subject proposed. Addressed to Mr. Onslow. To Reason's and to Fancy's eye display'd :
A prospect of the fields ready for harvest. Re. The first up-tracing, from the dreary void,
flections in praise of industry raised by that view The chain of causes and effects, to Him,
Reaping. A tale relative to it. A harvest-storm The world-producing Essence, who alone
Shooting and hunting, their barbarity. A ludi Possesses being; while the last receives
crous account of fox-hunting. A view of an The whole magnificence of Heaven and Earth, orchard. Wall-fruit. A vineyard. A description And every beauty, delicate or bold,
of fogs, frequent in the latter part of Autumn: Obvious or more remote, with livelier sense, whence a digression, inquiring into the rise of Diffusive painted on the rapid mind.
fountains and rivers. Birds of season considered, Tutor'd by thee, hence Poetry exalts
that now shift their habitation. The prodigious Her voice to ages; and informs the page
number of them that cover the northern and With music, image, sentiment, and thought,
western isles of Scotland. Hence a view of the Never to die! the treasure of mankind !
country. A prospect of the discolored, fading Their highest honor, and their truest joy!
woods. After a gentle dusky day, moon-light. Withont thee, what were unenlighten'd man? Autumnal meteors. Morning : to which succecds A savage roaming through the woods and wilds, a calm, pure, sun-shiny day, such as usually shuts In quest of prey; and with th' unfashion'd fur up the season. The harvest being gathered m, Rough-clad ; devoid of every finer art,
the country dissolved in joy. The whole con. And elegance of life. Nor happiness
cludes with a panegyric on a philosophical coun Domestic, mix'd of tenderness and care, Nor moral excellence, nor social bliss, Nor guardian law, were his; nor various skill CROWN'D with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, To turn the furrow, or to guide the tool
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, Mechanic; nor the heaven-conducted prow Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more, Of navigation bold, that fearless braves
Well pleas’d, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost The burning Line, or dares the wintry Pole; Nitrous prepar’d; the various-blossom'd Spring Mother severe of infinite delights!
Put in white promise forth; and Summer suns Nothing, save rapine, indolence, and guile, Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view, And woes on woes, a still-revolving train! Full, persect all, and swell my glorious theme. Whose horrid circle had made human life
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
A while engage. Thy noble care she knows, Embellish life. While thus laborious crowds The patriot virtues that distend thy thought, Ply the tough oar, Philosophy directs
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow; The ruling helm; or like the liberal breath While listening senates hang upon thy tongue, Of potent Heaven, invisible, the sail
Devolving through the maze of eloquence Swells out, and bears th' inferior world along. A roll of periods sweeter than her song. Nor to this evanescent speck of Earth
But she too pants for public virtue ; she,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
With golden light enliven'd, wide invests Compound, divide, and into order shift,
The happy world. Attemper’d suns arise, Each to his rank, from plain perception up Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds To the fair forms of Fancy's fleeting train : A pleasing calın; while broad, and brown, below, To reason then, deducing truth from truth; Extensive harvests hang the heavy head. And notion quite abstract; where first begins Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale The world of spirits, action all, and life
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain : Unfetter'd, and unmixt. But here the cloud, A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air