•^VW^Vvyy^y^--' ' ; s W v V^W*v*yy^^m M^^ M^^^ \m^ ^mm% y w \j%\jv\iw VMAUa .y^^vvyywv pWW^^ ^Vvi CONGRESS. ,4x3 W£4#Mflj$ pyy^^ VVy/yVVwV, ^vvy^wvp y^y^yyWuuuS^ V"\j\j\jWW^ Wm^^^r^W^ l¥*WWW\ m^mmimm pp»¥''!y «W^P W vv WV V WV V WV ^ %im w WW lf||§illi^^ mmmm m V^V^lli «yWw*^V*°I *vgg^ WWWgvvv^y^yuWy^vy^vww^y* POEMS. I i CONSISTING CIUEFLY OF ODES AND ELEGIES. Minuentur atrse Carmine cura?. HOR. GLASGOW: PRINTED BY R. CHAPMAN. Sold by W. Turnbull, Brash & Reid, and J. Smith & Son, G!asgo\ A. Constable & Co. J. Anderson, and A. Mackay, Edinburgh ;- Vernor, Hood & Sharpe, London. 1810. ** I < TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES, LORD KINNAIRD, THE # FOLLOWING POEMS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, Permit a faithful Muse thy smile to court, Who wander'd once o'er fields to thee so dear, Where Fancy's blooming flow'rets still appear ; — Sweet scenes ! where still the laughing loves dis- port, And Youth and Beauty lead the dance and song. The winding riv'let's daisied banks along : Yet fond Remembrance dwells on days of yore, As, from the neighb'ring heights, she casts her eye To yonder fane *, where the sad relics lie Of much-lov'd friends, who charm the throbbing heart no more. But, like the vernal sun, new prospects rise — By Gowrie's vale, and Tay's smooth-rolling tide, 'Mid groves that mantle Rossie's verdant side, The splendid Mansion meets the stranger's eyes ; Where Peace and smiling Joy extend their sway, And Hope's bright radiance gilds each future day, For thee, Kinnaird, with noble honors crown'd, May Fortune long her flow'ry wreaths entwine ; And ev'ry grace and virtue still combine To bless the lovely scene, and spread thy praise a- round. The Parish Church. The greatest part of the following Poems were written by the Author in his younger days, and many of them appeared in Periodical Publications more than thirty years ago. They then met with a favourable reception from the Public ; and, it is hoped, that when they are now collected, with the addition of several Pieces never before published, they will not be altogether unacceptable. The ton of poetical composition is indeed in some measure altered. Boldness of metaphor, and exuberance of vm description have succeeded the gentle sweetness of Parnell, and the amiable simplicity of Goldsmith. Those of his old friends, who still survive, and who with him are on the verge of becoming " rem- nants of themselves," may remember many of the following Poems, and will find no great difficulty in recollecting the Author. April, 1810. THE FORSAKEN SHEPHERD : A PASTORAL POEM. ibi hsec incondita solus Montibus et sylvis studio jactabat inani. Vine* JLONG has the Muse, in vain with glory fiVd,. By visions flatter'd, and with hope inspir'd, Long has she ceas'd to tune the varied strain, On Tatfs sweet banks, and Goivrie's fertile plain ; Till rous'd by griefs congenial with her own, By love once favour'd, but by love undone ; B 10 She sings, while pity in her bosom glows. Weeps with Alexis, and laments his woes. 'Twas night, and Nature in her sable vest, With silent sleep, had hush'd the world to rest. The waning moon shone faintly o'er the plain, No sprightly echo caught the past'ral strain ; When on these banks, which verdant fields adorn, A shepherd wander'd, weary and forlorn, And, while within contending passions strove, Thus felt, and sung the force of treach'rous love. u And is there now no pleasing wish behind, To soothe the piercing anguish of my mind ? No flatt'ring prospects to enchant the sight, With sweet, tho' transient visions of delight ? No hope to mitigate my ceaseless pain, Since absent Delia scorns her shepherd swain ? n " Was it for this, with pleasing anguish led By the clear stream, along the flow'ry meacl, At morn, at noon I tun'd the rural lays, And dewy ev'ning join'd in Delia's praise ? The list'ning echoes spread the notes around, The distant hills return'd the lengthen'd sound ; While vocal groves improved the heav'nly theme, And midnight silence mus'd on Delia's name ; Nor was the pipe, tho' rustic, tried in vain, She prais'd the music, for she lov'd the swain* " Could beauty charm ? — 'twas love inspir'd th** while, Beam'd from her eyes, and wanton'd in her smile ; 'Twas rapture tun'd her soft, sublimer song, As flow'd the notes divinely from her tongue. Won by her voice, the shepherds left the mead, And o'er the moorlands gave their flocks to feed; b 2 12 And as she sung, their fiVd attention drew, And as she sung, their wonder higher grew; They felt the magic of her heav'nly strain, The melting numbers charm'd the list'ning plain : But now the mourning swains their loss deplore, Since Delia's soothing voice is heard no more. " Say, shepherds! say, was ever maid so fair ! Fresh as the flow'rs that scent the vernal air ; Sweet as the rose-bud, op'ning to the view, That, warm'd by sun-beams, sips the orient dew ; Her manners gentle, as her soul serene, A winning softness grac'd her smiling mein : How mild the languish of her sparkling eye, That varied with the blush of modesty ! How dear her smile, when love and pity strove ! How form'd her heart for friendship and for love! 13 How kind her converse, as her spirit free ! 'Twas kind to all, — but doubly dear to me ! Then why reprove the folly of my strain, Tho' lovely Delia scorns her shepherd swain ? " Born to no riches, in a straw-built cot, On these wide plains, how sweet my humble lot ! With tender care a father s flock I led To the cool stream, o'er yonder grassy mead ; In calm content I pass'd my early days, Stranger to censure, and unknown to praise ; And while I cheerful tun'd the artless song, Peace led with Innocence the hours along ; When Delia's form in heav'nly beauty bright, Warm'd my cold heart, and nVd my roving sight- Few were my flocks, and scanty was my store, (Ah me! that love should raise a wish for more!) 14 Yet scora'd she not her humble shepherd swain, But lov'd the music of his rustic strain. " Along with his, or up the rocky steep, Or on the flow'ry plains she fed her sheep ; Or through the devious woodlands lov'd to stray, And pass beneath the shade the hours away. Ye waving trees, and dear delightful shade Witness^ the vows which tender lovers made : But envy broke these bonds that love had tied, And every art detested malice tried ; In one sad moment doom'd her to depart, And tore my image from her yielding heart : Now may I love, but love, alas! in vain, Since changeful Delia scorns her shepherd swain. " What tho* she smil'd — curs'd be the fatal day That snatch'd my heart, and every hope away ! 15 What tho' she lov ? d, she lov'd but to deceive : Ah, the hard bosom that had pow'r to leave ! Curse on that heart — ah, no ! may heav'n befriend, And smiling cherubs on her steps attend! Let virtue guard her, each returning day, And strew with blooming flow'rs life's thorny way ; Sweet as the movements of her peaceful soul, May transports bless her moments as they roll ! From every pain, and every sorrow free, Save when remembrance steals a look on me! " But other loves her smiling hours employ, Far other raptures of ecstatic joy; For her new lovers strike the am'rous lyre, And praise those charms which all mankind admire. Their flatt'ring strain may captivate and please, Their vallies boast a fresher bloom than these; 16 Their flocks more num'rous, and their fields as gay. And brighter suns illume the op'ning day, Their manners softer, as their language fine, But sure their love ean never equal mine: Then why, alas! prolong the mournful strain, Since faithless Delia scorns her shepherd swain ? " Hail, kindred glooms ! ye sable shades of night ! Shroud ev'ry beauty from my aching sight : Ye silent groves ! no more the sound retain, To soothe the sorrows of the pensive swain ! And ye, my sheep! who oft engag'd my care, Go bleat wild music to the midnight air ! Ye silver waters, as ye roll along, Bear the sad burden of my mournful song ! Ye gentle breezes, as ye louder rise, Waft far and wide the whisper of my sighs ! 17 Ye seats of past'ral innocence and ease, Where all was smiling joy, if aught could please ; And ye sweet fields, and lawns of verdant hue, My native home, and every hope, adieu ! " I'll seek some distant, solitary shore, And there to flinty recks my loss deplore; The roaring winds shall aid my hopeless strain, While foaming surges swell the sounding main. There oft to calm the sorrows of my mind, Mem'ry shall haunt these scenes I left behind; And oft to lull my wearied soul to rest, Shall love recall her image to my breast, When soft she smil'd — divinely sweet she lov'd, And kindlier fates our mutual bliss approv'd ; While meek-ey'd Peace shall close my dying strain, That Delia scorn'd, yet hv'd her shepherd swain. " c 18 Thus sung Alexis on the banks of Tay, Whose waters murmur'd to his melting lay; And thus the Muse, all faithful to her fires, Records in verse what friendly love inspires; While wistful Flora wipes the falling tear, And mourns a shepherd whom she once held dear* ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR, %%w%%v«\« I. See where December hastes away ! On quiv'ring pinions fast she flies To awful gloom, extinguish'd day, For ever hid from mortal eyes, To join her ancient sire ; To dark oblivion now consigned, Where consciousness no more shall range, Save when remembrance to the mind In chequer'd colours paints the change : Thus days and years expire. 20 II. And now the year is fled, With all its frowns and smiles, That, circling, as the minutes ran, Now round their various blessings spread, While fancy with her charms beguiles ; And now by sorrow's pencil drawn, Contract the wide-extended skies * Into a narrow tomb, And sad, horrific clouds arise To aggravate the gloom, III. ' Adieu, ye scenes ! farewell, ye days ! Where mem'ry, like a stranger, strays. And lingers still behind : Officious kindness ! how severe 21 To bend o'er faded pleasure's urn $ To drop forlorn the parting tear, And say, they never shall re turn To cheer the drooping mind. IV. Yet Hope, bless'd maid! with smiling mem, Wipes the wet cheek, dispels the gloomy scene ; Bids me, exulting, hail the new-born year, Devoid of grief, or coward fear ; While Time, fast hast'ning to his destin'd goal, Kind soother of the pain of human woes ! May fairer prospects yet disclose, To glad the heart, and bless the soul ; And strew with sweeter flow'rs life's thorny way, That leads to transports new, and never-ending day, 22 V. See ! Winter, with his cheerless train., His aspect keen, his frown severe ! Wide o'er the world extends his reign, And robes in snows the infant year ; While Nature's beauties all are lost, Fast bound in chains of iron frost ; And leafless is the forest glade, And barren is the rural scene, In weeds of ruthful sorrow clad, Stript of theix dress of lively green. VI. No more to charm the listening ear, From tufted groves, or woodland steep, The feather'd songsters tune their thrilling song s And kindlier breezes as they sweep 23 The flow'r-embroider'd vale along, No rich perfumes on downy wings they bear ; But tempests howl, and chilling storms arise, Rage o'er the fields, and cloud the desart skies* VII, Yet soon from genial climes again, Triumphing o'er the northern blast, Reviving Spring, in verdure dress'd, Shall melt the snows, unbind the plain ; Shall paint the landscape, deck the velvet ground, And Nature's face with heightened smiles renew; While sequent Summer, with profusion crown'd, Shall o'er the world her rosy garlands strew i And yellow Autumn, bending o'er the plain, .Shall bless the closing year, and shut the fmish'd scene. THE INVOCATION TO SPRING. Wilt thou still prolong thy reign, Hoary Winter, and severe ! Bind the frozen, fruitless plain, And deform the op'ning year? See ! the clouds of sable dye Gloom the concave of the sky ; Now they wing their louring flight To the dreary shades of night : Tempests howl, and vapours weep, As along the fields they sweep ; 25 While the owl, with om'nous scream, And the glow-worm's glimm'ring gleam Horrors spread ; — and spectres rise, And Courage at the prospect dies. Where ! O where dost thou recline ? Lovely Spring ! angelic maid ! Or in citron groves supine, Or on beds of spices laid ? Keeper of each gentle gale, Sleep'st thou in some flow'ry vale, With the graces by thy side, Arcadia's boast, Arcadia's pride ? Or, where other mountains rise, All beneath benignant skies, Dost thou sport thy hours away, Ever lovely, ever gay, D 26 Forgetful of these desart plains, Where horrific Winter reigns ? From this distant, northern clime, Smiling Power ! on thee I call ; Swift on downy wings of time, Haste with ev'ry soft'ning gale ; Haste, revive the drooping scene, Robe the fields in cheerful green ; Drive to inhospitable shores Where the frighted Euxine roars, Boreas, with his stormy train, Despot of the north domain ; With Favonian breezes blow, Dissipate these clouds of woe ; Rural scenes of joy display, And chase the gloom of night away. 27 On the zephyr's silken wing, Mild and gentle Power ! return ; Fragrant sweets and roses bring Wet with the purple dew of morn : Wake to harmony and love The songsters of the vocal grove ; Give the tints of blooming hue Op'ning to th' enraptur'd view, As the bright'ning prospect dawns, To flow'ry fields, and verdant lawns ; Clad in winning, soft attire, Ev'ry breast with love inspire ; Banish Winter from the year, Hoary Winter, and severe ! At the magic of her smile, Spreading o'er the landscape wide, d 2 28 See the tempest's raging toil, And the howling storm subside I Let us hail our vernal queen, Of jocund look, and placid mein, As she trips along the plain, With the graces in her train : While the rosy-bosom'd hours, With the sweetly rising flow'rs, Bring the fair auspicious May ; Then is Nature's holiday ; Then is banish'd from the year Hoary Winter, and severe* VERSES ON MAY: By a Lady, TO THE AUTHOR. Sweet enchantress, lovely May ! Come, Alexis, let us hail ; The smiling world is now so gay — What various beauties spread the vald ! Mild Arcadia's blooming sweets ; Fairy landscapes ever gay : Hymen, now prepare thy rites — - Thine's the tribute of the May. 30 May elates the feather' d throng ; See 5 they hop from spray to spray ; Love inspires their melting song, And with rapture tunes their lay. Along the vale and mountain's side Pastures green are giv'n by May ; The rising morn displays their pride, And gilds the scene with radiant day. There the shepherd tends his charge, There attunes his peaceful lay ; There the lambkins range at large, And with bleating hail the May. Come, with Flora, come along, Let us join the shepherd's lay ; 31 Echo shall the notes prolong — Sure she loves the gentle May. Tune, ah ! tune the gentle lyre To Him, who gave us flow'ry May ; AH his blooming works conspire To make us happy, pleas'd, and gay* S U M M E R: TO FLORA; IN ANSWER TO THE PRECEDING VERSES. Music awakes The native voice of undissembled joy ; And thick around the woodland hymns arise. Thomson. Tho' vanish'd, dear Flora, the blushes of May, And all the young smiles of the Spring ; Let us tune the soft notes of a musical lay, And try what the Summer can bring. From the haw-thorn bower, or the jessamine shade ; The linnet salutes the gay morn : 33 And wantons the breeze o'er the dew-sprinkl'd mead, Or waves the fields verdant with corn. To cheer the fair bosom of yon drooping rose, The sun-beams shine mild and serene ; While their silken-wrought beauties the flow'rets disclose, And scent with their fragrance the scene. The gay, gaudy butterfly flaunts it all day Like the fop, or the fair painted belle ; And the bee from each flow'r sips the nectar away, And carries the spoil to her cell. How pleasant the meadow ! 'tis Nature that smiles ; Her blushes outrival the May ; While the buxom young maiden unweariedly toils, And sings to the tedding of hay. E 34 To the sylvan-wrought bower, or the cool shady grove, At noon from the heat we'll retire ; And hail the sweet haunts of fair friendship and love, And the beauties of Nature admire. Where the woodbines and willows compose the thick shade, To screen from the rigours of day, The pleasures of friendship shall lend their kind aid To pass the gay moments away. How delightful, when ev'ning comes silently on v To roam o'er the meadows in bloom ; To cull for a garland fresh flow'rs newly blown, Or share the bean's richer perfume ! To sit on the margin of yon winding stream, The landscape inverted behold ; 35 Or mark the last glance of the sun's parting beam, And the sky all bespangled with gold* Let us hail the sweet season that decks the gay plaia With a rich flow'ry carpet of green ; And sure, gentle Flora will raise the soft strain, While music enlivens the scene. To her side while she sings let the shepherds repair— For the songstress I'll gather each sweet ; And twist the young roses in wreaths for her hair, Or strew the gay spoils at her feet. e 2 A UTUMK TO CLARA. The harvest treasures all Now gathered in, beyond the rage of storms, Sure to the swain .....*.... Thomson. Farewell, blooming Spring, that bedeck'd the gay plain ! No more vernal beauties appear : And Flora no longer, with all her mild train, Exhibits the sweets of the year. The pleasures of Summer, alas ! are decay 'd, With all their soft innocent bloom ; 37 The red-blushing rose from our gardens hath fled, And now yellow Autumn is come. The hard-toiling reapers, in yon distant field, Pass blythly the moments away ; The full-ripen'd corn to their sickles must yield — The honours of Ceres decay. The peasants in waggons drive home the rich grain, And whistle, and sing as they go ; They know not of sorrow t' embitter the scene, They know not the accents of woe. How pleasant the footsteps of Nature to trace ! The beauties of Harvest to view ! But seasons must alter, and Autumn give place To Winter of desolate hue. 38 At eve no kind Zephyr breathes soft in the gale ; No sweet odours float in the air ; But the cold nipping blasts sweep o'er the tann'd dale, And tell us that Winter is near. And does stormy Winter now blow in the breeze \ Will none bring us Summer again ? Will nothing remain of the Seasons to please ?— Alas ! all our wishes are vain. No more the gay songsters enrapture the ear, From woodlands, the heath, or the thorn ; But bleak is the prospect ; the fields are all bare- Not a flow'ret is left to adorn. Since Winter approaches with horrible mein, Ye fair, to your lovers be kind \ 39 O change not, as changes the varying scene, Nor give all their vows to the wind ! If beautiful Clara, the pride of the plain, Be loving, and constant, and true, The soft breathing Spring shall resume her glad reign, And Summer his pleasures renew, Her smile, like Contentment, shall blunt the keen edge Of storms that incessantly blow : Her presence shall soften their furious rage, And brighten the prospect of woe. WINTER : TO FIDELE. Now Winter falls, A heavy gloom oppressive o'er the world, And humbles Nature with her northern blast. Thomson. *.*.V*%/V%'* No more by the side of a sweet flowing stream, Or in the cool jessamine grove, The flow'r-footed Muse pursues her gay theme, And sings to the accents of love. For Winter, returning, her mantle of grey O'er the fields and the meadows has cast : 41 While loud beats the storm that dims the short day. And chill blows the northerly blast. The beauties of Nature, the Spring's early pride, No longer enrapture the view ; The flow'rets of Summer have wither'd and died, And Autumn has wav'd his adieu. Where now is the garden, rich source of delight, With its walks and its arbours so green ? — The sweet blushing roses, with beauty bedight, That scented with fragrance the scene ? And where, O ye woodlands ! the musical lay That warbled your thickets among ? Where all the gay songsters that bilPd on the spray, And rais'd their mellifluous song ? 42 How silent is Nature when falls the long night ! How dreary and dark her domain ! Till rises the sun, with his faint shining light, Then sinks into darkness again. Yet oft Phoebe sublime, with her silvery beam, All around, her mild radiance throws : While frost binds in fetters the hoarse-murm'ring stream, And the landscape lies buried in snows. But soon pass the prospects by moon-light away, And returns the deep settled gloom ; How distant the dawn of the sweet rising day, When Spring with her beauties shall come ! At this season so bleak, to cheer the dull hours, With study my mind I'll improve ; 43 And with friendship engage my affections and pow'rs, Or wake to the raptures of love. Ah, my heart ! — how transporting the sweet modest charms, My Fidele is pleas'd to display ! Still cheerful and smiling, O come to mine arms ! . Then Winter shall vanish away* f 2 THE GARLAND TO DELIA. I. One evening reclin'd in the bow 7 ry Where woodbines and willows entwine ; I plaited a wreath of each flow'r, And said the fair garland was thine : The pink, and the lily, and rose To heighten their tints how they strove I But they never could emulate those That are painted by beauty and love. 45 II. To deck that fair bosom, how fine, And how sweet would their blossoms appear ! I would call all their fragrance divine,— But the charms of their owner how dear ! Or to bloom in her tresses so gay—* Other flow'rets would envy them there — In beauty to flaunt it all day, And to grace the soft smiles of the fair. III. But fruitless the garland was wove : The flow'rets they blossom'd in vain j Since absent the maid whom we love, Since Delia has quitted the plain : Yet Hope fondly sought to adorn, The landscape in raptures it drew | I thought she would quickly return, " So sweetly she bade us adieu." 46 IV. But Summer, with all her mild train, Is gone, with the smiles of the year ; Rich Autumn has finish'd his reign, And — the charmer has fail'd to appear. To the jessamine bower I repair, But Nature her gifts has denied ; The flow'rets I wove for the fair, Have shrunk up their foliage, and died. V. Now Winter discolours the year ; The meadows and fields please no more ; No flow'rs in our garden appear, In the garden that charm'd us before i But the shepherdess ! should she return, And re-visit the snow-cover'd plain ; Soft Spring would the landscape adorn, And the garland would blossom again* THE POWER OF BEAUTY: to celia; On her saying> she was soon to leave the COUNTRY. Say, gentle fair one ! why refuse to share Of sweets, that grace the rural scene so gay ? Why love to breathe again the Town's dark air- Why leave the Country in the month of May ? Say, lovely Celia ! will no art. prevail To change the purpose of thy stern decree ? 48 Hast thou a Damon, where thou mean'st to dwell, Who wastes his sighs in solitude for thee ? Sure, ev'ry shepherd shall the loss deplore, If ere these charms have struck his guileless eye ; Shall chaunt his soft'ning melody no more, But lay his pipe and crook in silence by. And ev'ry bird, that warbles in the grove, Whose wild notes echo thro' the flow'ry dale, Shall cease the strain, and quit the song of love, And load with murmurs ev'ry passing gale, No more the riv'let, in its pebbly bed, Whose undulating waters gently flow, Shall lave the edges of yon cooling shade, Where daisies, cowslips in perfection grow, 49 Does tender Pity in that bosom dwell, Where graces numberless their frolics play I O then ! with Beauty's Potver our fears dispell, And drive such scenes of sadness far away. Suspend thy journey — and the birds shall sing ; Their pleasing songs the shepherds shall renew ; The wanton Zephyrs ply their nimble wing, To waft sweet odours to the fields, — and you. Reviving Nature shall the charm confess, And subject to the Potver of Beauty be ! If Celia with her presence deign to bless, And smile, resistless, on these plains,— and me. ODE ON THE AUTHOR'S BIRTH DAY: JANUARY, 1778. *.-w%^.-*.v^ Yet, shifting still the chequer'd scene, Time, length'ning out his silent reign, Steals all my hours away ; And, while I hail the infant year, I see another morn appear, That marks my natal day. Come, Fancy ! Nature's sweetest child, No more by wanton Hope beguil'd, And sketch the backward scene ; 51 While Memory, with her magic pow'r. Recalls each sad, each happy hour Of pleasure, and of pain. See ! where the trifling baubles lie, That caught the smiling infant's eye, And gave'unmingled joy ; The tinsel plume of gaudy shew, (Just emblem of each scene below,) That pleas' d the thoughtless boy. Mark the gay spot, and ev'ry tree, Endear'd by early time to me, And yonder flow'ry green ; Where oft enraptur'd with my play, I've spent the live-long summer's day, All blissful and serene. g 2 52 Yet then Confinement's galling chain, And young-ey'd Fear, with all her train Supplied the place of care ; Still urg'd by heedless folly on, I scorn'd the mild parental frown, Nor saw the forming snare. Bidding these childish sports adieu, Still other prospects rase to view, That charm'd the youthful mind : Onward the devious path I trod, That leads to Glory's false abode, ' By erring fame design'd. Deck'd in the rain-bow's coloured dyes, I saw the fairy vision rise, And flowery Nature smile ; 53 Nor thought, that studious to betray Perplexing cares might gloom the way, And flattering Hope beguile. Pleas'd with the scene in beauty dress'd, Poetic raptures warm'd my breast, With animating fire : While lull'd in Fancy's airy dream, I idly tried each various theme, And touch' d the trembling lyre. Each season, as it roll'd along, Inspir'dthe correspondent song, With all its varied charms ; There blooming Spring adorn'd the plain, Here Summer, Autumn rais'd the strain, And Winter's 1 - howling storms. 54 Thus pass'd the fleeting hours away, And, while I hail'd my natal day, I sui.g the shifting year : Now cheerful as the vernal morn, Nov/ as the wintry waste forlorn, I drop'd the parting tear. No more the scenes which Nature yields- For flowery lawns, and verdant fields, I bow'd at Friendship's shrine ; And, list'ning to her pleasing voice, I fondly sought superior joys, And mutual bliss divine. But while I felt the gen'rous flame, Which gross, unfeeling souls disclaim, And own'd her pow'rful sway ; 55 Almira's shape, and gentle mein Controul'd each nobler passion's reign. And stole my heart away. Enamqur'd with her heav'nly air, I prais'd her charms divinely fair,— The beauties of the mind ; And, whilst conflicting passions strove, I sung the erring force of love That governs all mankind. But see, the fairy vision's fled ! — Nor Nature's simplest form array 'd In all her gaudy show ; Nor fair Almira's magic name, Nor solid Friendship's purer flame, Can lasting bliss bestow. 56 Ah ! what avails this new-born year, Or all on earth my soul holds dear ? Or what this natal day ? Since every scene that pleas'd before, And all that charm'd is now no more. To cheer the lonely way. O come, Religion, heav'nly maid ! In sweet, unfading bloom array 'd, And gently whisper peace : Calm the rough tumults of my breast, And soothe my weary soul to rest, With kind, substantial bliss. When cares, or passion's angry strife, Perplex the thorny road of life, Diffuse thy sweets around ; 57 And rising, as the moments roll, May all thy comforts charm my soul 5 And heal Affliction's wound. Thus aided by thy friendly pow'r, 111 calmly wait the parting hour, That calls me hence away : For brighter scenes of rapture born, With joy I'll bless th' important morn Of this auspicious day. ODE TO THE DAY LILY*. Lovely Floweret ! ere thou fade Eeneath the sun's all powerful ray ; Ere in the dust thy charms be laid, And night dissolve thy bloom away, Thy wasting beauties let me sing : The modest tribute sure is due ; * Or, the Asphodel : it is called the Day Lily, because it continues in full blow onlv for one day. 59 For every flower, disclos'd by Spring, Enjoys a longer life than thou. Short-liv'd, where Flora shews her train, Thou rear'st thy flaunting head on high ; To-day can boast thy pleasing reign,— To-morrow sees thee fade and die. What tho' in lovely dress array'd, Companion of the gay and fair, No willing hand can lend its aid To screen thee from the noxious air. In vain the Summer breeze that blows, Reviver of the daisied plain ; The showers, that ev'ry bud disclose, For thee, sweet flower ! now fall in vain. h 2 60 No power can lengthen out thy day, Or raise thy drooping, humble head ; No strengthening sun, with warming ray, Can save thee from the prostrate dead. While other flow'rets greet the view, And boasting stand a round of days, Thou bid' st the gay parterre adieu— Ere night thy ev'ry charm decays. And shall I gaze to see thee fall, And unconcern'd behold thy bloom Now fading at fate's rigid call, That ruthless stamps thy early doom r Nor once reflect, that ere the sun Again illumes the eastern skies, 61 Like thine, my day may then be done, And death this night may close mine eyes. Ah, what is life ? — but short as thine ; To-day we spread our blossoms round ; Next morn defeats each firm design, Brings youth and beauty to the ground, And shall I thus regardless waste My swift-wing'd hours in sloth away ; Nor strive to ransom what is past, Nor yet improve the present day 1 Soon shall this childish scene be o'er — What numbers press an early tomb ! As yonder Lily blooms no more, But, hast'ning, meets its fated doom, ODE TO FORTUNE. Aw'd by the terror of thy name, And pow'rful sway, all changeful Dame ! Oft I've invok'd thine aid : Charm'd with thy smiles I call'd divine, I bow'd obsequious at thy shrine, And vows pathetic paid. With the rich miser I ador'd Thy glitt'ring gems, and blissful hoard, — Sweet source of dear delight ! 63 Nor felt the wringing hand of care, Nor saw thee plant the deadly snare, That tempts the partial sight. With the mean, fawning, flatt'ring crowd, Thoughtless the phantom I pursu'd, With unremitting toil : And, conscious of thy magic pow'r, Courted thy minions ev'ry hour, And feign'd the hollow smile. Or, mingling with the studious train, Who thro' an age of varied pain. Pursue thy vain embrace, Oft have I stray' d in pensive mood, And still the tedious task renew'd To gain the pension' d place, 64 I thought — sure Pride inspir'd the while- That merit, favor'd by thy smile, Obtains its due desert ; That, glorying in their rightful claim, Superior worth, each noble aim, Would solid bliss impart, Regardless of each vow I made, I left the Academic shade, With all its motley band : Uncourted by the great or gay, Who triumph in thy warming ray, I blam'd thy partial hand. I sought the silent, rustic cell, Where Contemplation loves to dwell 5 With ardent Fancy nVd \ 65 With these I wander'd hand in hand, Obey'd with rapture each command, And new-born scenes admir'd. Enamour'd of the Muse's train, I roam'd the verdant, flow'ry plain, Or scal'd the mountain steep ; Or, on the wide extended shore, Would love to hear the billows roar, And view the hoary deep. Nor dream'd, tho' candidates for fame. That Poets tremble at thy name, And own thy rigid sway : Verses some vacant heart may charm, And ev'ry feeling passion warm, To chase the gloom away. 66 Enraptur'd Fancy may beguile, And cause the barren heath to smile ; But soon the vision's gone ; Dissolv'd in Disappointment's tears, The fairy landscape disappears, And fades beneath thy frown. " Such is each prospect," Wisdom cries ; 'Tis here the dear delusion lies, That cheats the youthful mind : Hope paints thy charms divinely fair. But, wounded by the thorns of care, We learn to call thee blind. ■ Virtue alone can guard the soul, When tides of ebbing fortune roll, Or flatt'ring hopes beguile : Let this fond heart her sceptre own, Nor dread the vengeance of thy frown, Nor court thy partial smita ODE TO SOLITUDE. ^♦.•v^w^*. Deep in the center of this wood, That, years unnumber'd, has withstood The blasts of wintry winds ; As oft array'd in pleasing green, When Spring adorns the smiling scene, And Nature's stores unbinds. Here, from the busy world retir'd, By fancy led, by hope inspir'd, I'll worship at thy shrine, i 2 68 O solitude, divinely great ! I'll seek the joys that on thee wait, And call these pleasures mine. Not courtier's smile, nor fortune's rays. That gain the crowd's ignoble praise, Can e'er such sweets impart, As those which from thy presence flow, Those that thy modest charms bestow, Which captivate the heart. Here, on this spot, beside this stream. Impervious to the noon-tide beam, My mind from passion free ; Remote from frantic folly's maze, An humble altar I will raise, And consecrate to thee. 69 Here, where lone Silence reigns around, In awful majesty profound, And solemn stalks along ; Save where the rill's meand'ring course Impels its waves with noisy force, The moss-grown rocks among : Here, when the shades of night descend, That bid the hinds their labours end, And hush the world to peace ; To thee, mild Power ! I'll raise the song, Glad echo shall the notes prolong, And waft them with the breeze* With thee fair Virtue loves to dwell, And Contemplation in her cell Assumes thy pleasing guise ; 70 With thee bold Fancy sits supreme, Inspires the soul with pow'rful flame, And lifts her to the skies. Here too, plain Truth with milder ray, And Innocence point 'out the way, Where radiant glories shine : And Wisdom here, in splendor drest, With solid raptures fires the breast, That make the man divine. What tho' dark gloom o'erspread this place, The bug-bear of the thoughtless race, Who spend their days in noise ! Oft disengag'd from anxious care, Here I'll prefer my ardent pray'r, And court thy heart-felt joys. 71 If, while I tread life's thorny vale, Unlook'd-for sorrows should assail, Or dangers should affright ; To thy lov'a haunts I'll oft repair, Thy pow'r shall soothe each way-ward care,, And yield a calm delight. ODE TO MELANCHOLY.- 'V-».'V*.'V^^* Hail ! tenant of the moss-grown cell, Inspirer of the pensive soul ! Who lov'st in midnight gloom to dwell., Where winding streamlets ever roll : To thee I raise the votive lay While thus I own thy pow'rful sway. Here thou hast fix'd thy solemn seat, Remote from strife and anxious care ; 73 Where these two gliding riv'lets meet, Whose gentle murmurs sooth the ear ; Whose banks with various shrubs array'd, From heat afford a cooling shade. ' Around, the rocks irreg'lar stand, With shaggy fronts, immensely steep, Cut out by Nature's careless hand, Whose fretted stones incessant weep ; Where sits enthron'd in awful state, The form of Grandeur and of Fate. Beneath thy mild and magic pow'r, Wrapt in a stole of chequer' d gloom, Pale Cynthia rules the silent hour, And twinkling stars their fires resume ; While wearied Nature seems to die, Involved in dim obscurity. K 74 Now, 'neath yon yew-tree's dreary shade, (As fame reports,) wan ghosts are seen ; Where heave the mansions of the dead, Or fairies revel on the green, Till at the earliest dawn of day, The sportive elves are call'd away. Yet still, bless'd maid ! thy footsteps please ; Whether thou tread'st the mountain's brow* Or where the ivy-clasped trees Diffuse a solemn gloom below ; If in thy walks fair peace be found, With modest wreaths of glory crown'd. With thee in some sequestered cell, Where Nature's noblest works appear, At distance from the world I'd dwell, The shepherd's woodland song to hear, 75 As all along he tends his flock Beneath yon rugged, hoary rock. Well pleas'd I'd pass the summer's day, Enjoy the calm, the ev'ning hour ; Well pleas'd with sweet Content to stay, And feel the cares of life no more ; On Fancy's airy pinions trace The beauties of creation's face. From pleasured charms that tempt the eye, And turn the lab'ring feet astray ; From vain allurements let me fly, I And learn to tread the grass-grown way. That leads to transports ever new, Where Wisdom's glories rise to view. 76 Then will I bless th' eventful day. That e'er I left the busy scene ; Where glozing smiles of vice betray, And guilt ensures corroding pain : Then will I bless the happy hour, That e'er I sought this moss-lin'd bow'r. ODE TO HUMILITY. Within this lowly cell, The scene grotesque and wild, Where Melancholy loves to dwell ; 'Midst pendent rocks with ivy bo ,_ id, While vernal airs breathe odours round, With influence soft and mild : Here I will oft retire, With thee, sweet Nymph ! to stay ; And leani to quell each proud, desire, 78 Which tempts to quit the narrow road, That leads to Virtue's bless'd abode, And would my steps betray. Ye scenes of life, adieu ! Whose charms entice the mind To break each plighted, solemn vow, Engag'd at Wisdom's hallow'd shrine ; To deem vain-glorious Pride divine, And leave Truth's paths behind. Say, what does it avail To bask in Fortune's ray ! If low-born, selfish views prevail ; If Vanity, with tinsel'd show, Perverts the soul, averse to know At first the treach'rous war. 79 In vain the pompous glare Of ornament and dress, If Envy, with malicious stare. Corrodes the discontented breast, With dread of rival pow'r oppress'd, Remote from conscious bliss. Ah ! wretched and forlorn Are those who love to hear, And think it folly ev'n to scorn The venal blast of shrill-tongu'd Fame, Which, tho' it nurse a pleasing flame, Must wound the modest ear. Far hence each guilty joy ! That springs from self-applause, Which would the fruits of peace destroy, so The seeds of future mischief sow, Chain ev'ry wish to things below, And break thro* Wisdom's laws. These are no ways of thine : Thou lov'st, meek Power ! to dwell With those whose pious hearts incline To check each proud, aspiring thought, With hidden dangers ever fraught, And bid deceit farewell. What tho' no radiant charm Adorn thy simplg mein ! Thy modest smiles each passion warm ; While Meekness, Innocence, and Peace Attendant with enchanting grace Confess thy pow'rful reign. 81 O ! lead me in thy paths, Remote from Envy's frowns ; That I may gain unfading wreath? Which Honour, with unsparing hand, Obsequious to thy just command, Confers on all thy sons. ODE TO HOPE. Sweet Hope ! who cheer'st the lonely hour, I woo thee gently to my breast ; Extend thy kind,, thy healing pow'r, And give thy humble suppliant rest : Attune the music of his lyre With strains of ecstacy inspire ; Bid endless joys in radiant lustre shine, That raise to transports new- — to transports all divine. 83 To thee I turn with eager eye, In ev'ry scene of deep distress ; And while from cares to thee I fly, I feel my burden'd sorrows less : While calm Reflection points, the way That opens to eternal day, And kindly smooths the wrinkled brow of pain, Thy smile, bless'd maid! illumes the melancholy scene. Yet let the youthful mind beware Of sickly hopes, deceitful joys ; With caution shun the deadly snare, That flatt'ry plants, or pride employs ; Erroneous Fancy may beguile In Pleasure's garb with studied smile, While plunging into scenes of deeper woe, Sad Disappointment strikes the unexpected blow. l 2 84 For oft, all wretched and forlorn, False Hope ! thy votaries I have seen ; Fair shone in purple dress the morn, The prospect blissful and serene ; But quickly from the ravish'd view, Distant the fairy scene withdrew, To raging storms a melancholy prey, While ruthless Fortune frown'd, and snatclvd each hope away. Led too by Fancy's airy form, I bow'd obsequious at thy shrine * Almira's looks, each killing charm, I saw, and own'd her pow ? r divine* Enamour'd with her heav'nly air, To thee I rais'd my vdtive pray'r : She smil'd, — or feign'd a mutual bliss begun — I thought she faithful smil'd, but trusting was undone. 85 Turning to Friendship's hallow'd fire. With joy I felt a purer flame ; Check'd the vain wish, each proud desire, Which truth and probity disclaim ; And, cheer'd by Virtue's social ray, With Strephon pass'd the hours away ; With Strephon hop'd sublrmer joys to share, When death relentless rag'd, and plung'd me in de- spair. In every varied scene of life, Still Disappointment frowns severe, Nurs'd by the pangs of hopeless grief, With many a sigh, and many a tear : While rankling in the restless breast, By cares and future ills oppress'd, Pale Fear and Envy shake the poisonous dart, And keener sorrows give, and deeper wounds impart. 8& Say, what is life ? — A busy dream ; All but to Fancy's visions blind, That, like the glow-worm's erring gleam, Mock with false hopes the youthful mind ; Tho' crouding dangers round us wait, We slumber on the brink of fate, . Till landed on the silent, solemn shore Of vast Eternity, we wake to dream no more. From scenes as these, celestial maid 1 To thee I turn my eager view ; For thee, sweet Hope ! who ne'er betray'd, I bid the bustling world adieu : Lead me thro' life's deceitful road, To thine, and Wisdom's bright abode ; Diffuse thy healing comforts o'er my mind, And to the will of Heav'n teach me to be resign'd. 87 Then deep distress, nor Fear's pale dart, Nor all the world's fantastic show, Shall change the purpose of my heart, Or tempt thy presence to forego : Supported by thy friendly pow'r, Calmly I'll pass each lonely hour ; Nor quit thy joys till newer scenes arise, Where bloom Fruition's sweets, eternal in the skies. ODE TO PEACE. •vWvv^v*. From fields of light above the skies, Where soft the gentle breezes blow ; And songs of grateful triumphs rise, And endless tides of rapture flow ; From regions of eternal day, Descend, sweet nymph ! and tune the lay ; With thy mild voice each tender passion move, And wake the languid soul to harmony, and love. 89 Come, with the graces in thy train, In robes of mild refulgence dress'd ; Resume thy long forgotten reign, And sooth my weary mind to rest ; Press'd by the hand of anxious care, To thee I raise the ardent pray'r ; On thee with soft complaining voice I call, When heavy on my heart afflictive sorrows fall. Oft have I, in the ev'ning hour, When Silence listen' d to thy tread, And Nature own'd thy magic pow'r, Thro' the deep forest's lengthen'd glade ; By Fancy's mazy steps beguil'd, Oft have I sought thee, wand'ring wild, In upland lawn, or thro' the woody scene, Where Melancholy holds her sweet, but awful reign: M ***■■*- —- - * 90 Or, all along yon winding stream, That, murm'ring thro' the waving reeds, Reflects pale Cynthia's silver gleam, Soft glitt'ring o'er the dewy meads ; Restless the devious path I've trod That lonely leads to thine abode j To catch the whispers of thy falling voice, That lift the raptur'd mind to high celestial joys : But sought in vain — still o'er my soul, By tragic fear, by sorrow torn, The billows of distraction roll, And leave me wretched and forlorn : In vain — while anguish wounds the heart, And shakes pale Doubt her trembling dart, — In vain to thee I turn my eager eye, And from destructive War's ensanguin'd horrors fly* 91 But see ! wide spreading to the view The awful blast, the gathering storm, In sable robes of wint'ry hue, All Nature's peaceful scenes deform ! The tempest hides the face of day, And vivid gleams of light'ning play ; While all around dark clouds of sorrow rise, That sweep the desart vast, and rend the troubled skies. Ah ! why this elemental strife, — This warring storm of inward woe, That glooms the various paths of life, And sinks my falling spirits low ? Shall erring passions vex the mind For endless scenes of joy design'd ? Shall guilt, and wild dispair in horror frown, Blast ev'ry tender hope, and pour their vengeance down ? m 2 92 Yet oft attentive to the cry — The weary cry of deep distress, The goddess of the smiling eye, With gentle Hope descends to bless : Array' d in ev'ry winning charm, Calms with her word the angry storm ; Stills the rough surges, and the whirlwind's roar, And bids the tempest rage and idly vex no more. Come to my breast, angelic Power ! Be thou my guardian, and my friend ; O kindly cheer each lonely hour, And all my wand'ring steps attend ! And when afflictions raise the sigh, Still be thy healing comforts nigh ; Still may thy hand my feeble strength renew, Thro' life's perplexing road my journey to pursue-. 93 And when, to shut this varying scene, Kind death shall other worlds disclose In mild composure smile serene, ; And gently waft to calm repose : Thro' all the horrors of the tomb O bear me to thy native home ; To fields of light my wond'ring soul convey* fhere bloom thy perfect joys, and shines eternal day ! ODE TO JOY. ■%/W%%/V Hail, Goddess of the mirthful eye ! Who check'st the faintly rising sigh That swells the human breast : Let. me, in this auspicious hour, Feel the soft magic of thy pow'r, No more by grief oppress'd. Come, with thy sisters, come along, Sweet Peace, and Rapture ever young, And Pleasure ever gay ! While Hope, in ruby-cinctur'd vest, Shall cull the fairest, and the best Of flowers, to strew the way. 95 At thy approach, in haste, retire Dim Sorrow's form in wan attire, Pale Grief and faded Pain ; While Melancholy, doom'd to fear, And all the family of Care Resign their gloomy reign. Come, bright-ey'd Transport, heav'nly maid ! With white-rob'd innocence array'd, And bliss that ne'er can cloy ; Shower roses from a summer's sky, And smiles that never learn'd to sigh, To deck the shrine of joy. With the inspir'd, poetic band, O let me in her temple stand, And at her altar bend ! 96 Stranger to dulness, spleen, and woe, And all the ills that mortals know, I hail the happyyWew^. Yet not that meretricious fair, To whom the gay prefer their pray'r, To whom devote their days : Who, nightly in the splendid hall, Inspires the dance, and festive ball, And tunes her wanton lays. Nor she, who o'er the guilty feast, With laughter-loving Folly bless'd, And frantic Wit, presides : " Fill high the sparkling bowl," she cries, u Let's catch, in painted Pleasure's guise, " The moment as it glides." •■-i- rir— r " aa 9*7 Nor that vain joy which misers share, When, reckless of the thorns of care, They count their glitt'ring store ; What inward raptures to behold, Increase of riches, treach'rous gold ! Yet still they wish for more. Nor she* who rules with empty name The white-rob'd candidate for fame, — The pageant of a day ; Wealth, sceptres, crowns with splendid show, And all the bliss that these bestow, A breath shall sweep away : But thou, fair Maid ! with brow serene, Who tun' st the high ecstatic strain, And strik'st the heav'nly lyre ; 98 Cheer'd by thy rays supremely bright, Exult the first-born sons of light With animating fire. let me join their hallow'd song ! 'Tis thine their raptures to prolong, Exalted and refin'd : For these thy charms that kindle day, On Virtue's wing I stretch away, And leave whole worlds behind. Transported with the rising scene, 1 see the glories of thy reign, Beyond the narrow tomb ; Burst the cold shell of human woe, Anticipate a Heaven below, And endless years to come. ODE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. The Soul's Immortality has been the favourite theme with the serious in all ages : nor is it strange ; it is a subject by far the most interesting that can enter the mind of man. Young's Pref. to Night VIL In vain explores th' unwearied mind, Sweet peace, and solid joy to find From mean terrestrial things ; Fancy, a pow'rful, restless guest, By pleasure fir'd, of hope possess'd, Yet disappointment brings. . What is this world ? — a motley scene ; Where smiles and griefs alternate reign, A round of sickly joys ; n 2 100 Where Hope elates with all her charms, Where trembling Fear the heart alarms, And ev'n Possession cloys. See! Disappointment frowns severe,; The haggard look, the falling tear Bespeak the troubled soul : Despair attendant drags her frame, An horrid form ! devoid of shame, And Fury crowns the whole. See ! how they urge the quiv'ring blade^ With reeking gore, and rust o'erspread^ Or pull the fatal cord : — 'Tis well — if non-existence wait, In awful gloom, with bliss replete* To grant the dark reward) 101 Nature appall' d shrinks at the view — • Bid consciousness a long adieu, To dreary nought consign'd ! Whence then that endless thirst for fame; Say, whence Ambition's ardent flame, That fires the longing mind ? Was it for this that man was made, A while this narrow scene to tread. All wretched and forlorn ; Then to descend some dismal cell, With putrid carcases to dwell, Nor hail th' eternal morn ? Stanzas IV. and V...." Pull the fatal cord."..." To dreary Ci nought consign'd."... Alluding to the atrocious and unnatural crime of suicide, for which the island of Great Britain is so remarkably distinguished ; and to the atheistical notions which too many entertain respecting a future state. 102 Haste ! bring me cypress, and the yew, Steep' d in the dankest cavern's dew, To spread around the tomb : No blushing rose shall flourish here, Nor lilies rob'd in white appear, To shed a rich perfume. Yet whence that boundless reach of thought, By Nature form'd, by Fancy wrought, That shoots beyond the skies ; That travels wide from star to star, Thro' tractless aether to afar, And new-found worlds descries ? Whence then that spark of sacred fire, That teaches mankind to aspire, And form the ample wish ; 103 That animates, exalts, refines, Impels the soul with vast designs, To search for lasting bliss ? Hail, sons of men ! immortal, hail ! Reason draws back the sable veil Of Error's mystic twine ; Evolves the mazes, brings the day, And, leagu'd with Truth's celestial ray. Proclaims the soul divine. What tho' in this terrestrial scene, Triumphant vice extends her reign, And rules with potent sway ; Tho' tort'ring pain, with sorrow jour d, Harass the doubtful, anxious mind, And cloud the wishM-for day ; 104 What tho* afflictions press around, Whose stings with keenest anguish wound, And pierce the bleeding heart : These, when improv'd, tho' oft severe, And awful frowns of terror wear, Yet endless joys impart. Come then, Religion ! cheer the gloom ; Immortal Goddess ! hither come, Dispel each wayward fear ; Teach me to shun the fatal snare, And hearken to thy voice with care, That charms the list'ning ear. Teach me thy footsteps to pursue ; With active hope the task renew, While vital pow'r is giy'n ; 105 Contentment then, a noble guest, Shall dwell within my ravish' d breast, An antepast of heav'n. Regard to Wisdom's sacred ways, While warm'd by Virtue's steady rays, Still let me entertain ; To heaven my ardent wishes rise, Superior to these dusky skies, Where endless raptures reign. Then, when this world shall be no more, On vast Eternity's wide shore Immortal I shall stand ; Where immortality inspires New songs, and crowns the large desires Of each celestial band, o NIGHT. 'Scap'd from the noisy world's bewitching pow'r, Where endless Discord holds her cheerless reign % From Folly's trifling train I steal an hour, And dedicate to night the youthful strain- Now balmy slumbers sooth the cares of toil : Sweet sleeps the peasant in his humble cot ; Now Flatt'ry's flippant tongue lies still a while? And all the labour of the day's forgot. Cynthia, emerging from the crimson'd east, Moves slowly onward with her starry train ; 107 And sober Night, in dusky mantle dress'd, Resumes once more her awful, silent reign. Save where the mastiff, on the village green, Barks wildly to the wan moon's glimm'ring ray ; Save where the drowsy owl, with dismal mein, Hoots lonely on the dew-bespangled spray. Save where the rill, whose winding banks are clad With plaintive willows, waving o'er the stream, Comes softly murm'ring thro' the peaceful glade, And silver'd glitters in the quiv'ring gleam. Save where the raven, from her airy nest, 'Mid woods impervious to the midnight moon, Lulls with her dreary songs her young to rest, While weary Nature mourns her beauties gone. o 2 108 When, at this solemn hour, the slumb'ring world Lies lowly prostrate on the downy couch | And Riot's sons, in mere confusion hurl'd, Prolong the revels of the mad debauch : Oft let me wander near the heath-clad hill, O'er whose high top sweet beams the star of eve ; Or tread beside the daisy-margin'd rill, And every scene of vice and folly leave. And there hold converse with the sacred Muse, With Night's seraphic bard, immortal Young ! In memory's fair page his strains peruse, How sweet he warbled, and how sad he sung ; Or feel the force of Thomson's deathless song, Who copied Nature in each different hue ; 109 Who soft as Sappho, and as Pindar strong, jDescrib'd such scenes as Shakespeare never drew. There let me meditate on themes divine, Whose blissful influence high exalts the soul,; Or bend at Wisdom's ever glorious shrine, And learn the throbbing passions to controuL There quick-ey'd Fancy's airy flights pursue, That wake to ecstacy, and thoughts sublime ; In heav'n's bright concave with amazement view The God of Nature, and the God of Time. Blest Solitude ! how sweet thy peaceful scenes, Where Contemplation's vot'ries love to stray ! Where, in her sapient dress, Religion reigns, And shines more splendid than the noon-tide ray. THE COMPLAINT: ON THE NORTHERN EMIGRATIONS. WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1774. Nos patriae fines, et dulcia linquimus arva; Nos patriam fugimus — _— Virg. Phoebe, the leader of the starry train, Shone mildly o'er the varied landscape wide ; Silence stood list'ning on the dewy plain, And rock-born Echo slumber' d at her side. When, as I wander'd solitary, slow, O'er fields that once were pleasant, once were dear, Ill The notes of sorrow, and the cry of woe, Remote, in mournful cadence struck mine ear. Fancy conveyed me to the distant scene — A lengthen' d tract of desart rose to view ; There Desolation fix'd her .savage reign, And misery o'erwhelm'd the hapless crew. Press'd by the hand of penury and care, The rueful looks of anguish deep they wore : Want chilPd their bosoms — led them to despair, And Hope gleam'd comfort to their minds no more. The rags of tatter'd raiment scarce supply'd To blunt the rigours of th' inclement sky ; To age, to youth each succour was deny'd, And tender babes indulg'd the feeble cry. 112 The victims of oppression and disdain, — O'er pathless heaths they bent their tedious way; Whilst ev'ry step they took increas'd their pain : ? Twas meagre famine forc'd them thus to stray. Such was the scene — when thro' the shades of night, Burst rays of glory from the mountain's brow : Instant a female form, supremely bright, UnveiPd her grandeur, and appear'd to view. The arms of Caledonia still she bore, Her ancient ensigns, and the lunar shield, That graced her children in the days of yore, And brav'd the horrors of the martial field. Loose was her hair ; — in weeds of sorrow clad, Sighing, she saw her former glory stain' d ; 113 And, as she view'd the wrecks oppression made, In strains of piercing anguish thus complained ; " How long shall Want afflict my native land, For deeds of mighty prowess erst renown'd ? How long shall Av'rice, with unsparing hand, Spread rueful desolation all around ? u Shall these my sons, unpitied and forlorn, Be doom'd as exiles o'er the world to roam ; From their dear fields, and verdant valiies torn, Seek the mean shelter of a distant home ? " Shall they, the offspring of a warlike race, Endure the pangs the wretched only know ; And folded close in penury's embrace, Feel all the sad variety of woe ? p 114 " Was it for this, with noble ardour fir'd, Fought their bold fathers on the hostile plain f For this, the Hero conquer'd, or expir'd, While Roman legions urg'd their course in vain ? u Ah no ! — 'Twas Liberty their bosoms fir'd ; For this they fearless met th' embattl'd foe ; For this the hero vanquish' d, or expir'd, And Roman legions felt the deadly blow. , ** When future ages carol'd forth their praise, Their future race fresh wreaths of glory won ; And what the hero's arm began to raise Was nobly finish'd by the hero's son, " Nurs'd in the bosom of this distant isle, They, emulous, advanc'd my growing fame ; 115 And, favour'd still with Heaven's consenting smile, Assign' d new honours to my boasted name. <■ Inur'd to conquest, and the love of arms, The servile chains of tyranny they scorn'd ; While Merit's lasting meed, fair Freedom's charms,, Thro' many a future age their fields adorn'cL 41 Not so their sons ! — O'er dreary heaths they roam, Bless'd with the sweets of Liberty no more : For distant climes they quit their native home, And waft their famlies to some foreign shore. H Ev'n now, supported by no generous friend, Along the beach their journey they pursue : Ev'n now, alas ! the waiting bark ascend, And, weeping, bid their heath-clad hills adieu. p 2 116 " Will no land Patriot stem the threading tide, Restore my honours, and espouse their cause ; Check the curs'd reign of insolence and pride, And nobly free them from oppression's laws f Not kings alone, Each villager has his ambition too ; And souls immortal must for ever heave At something great The praise of mortals, or the praise of Heaven. Young. Shall venal chains th' aspiring soul detain ? Shall mercenary views each thought employ ? For splendid affluence to sigh in vain, Nor know that cares internal peace destroy £ For what avails the glitt'ring pomp of show, To roll supine in Wealth's inglorious car ; 125 When heav'n-born Freedom turns a hated foe, Sounds the loud clarion, and proclaims the war'? To court the favor of the great or gay, Shall I, a sordid minion, condescend ? In dull attendance waste the tedious day, Then, disappointed, quit the faithless friend ? Traverse again the same ignoble round, Impell'd, deceitful, by Ambition's fire ; Attentive listen to Fame's magic sound, While Pride and Folly fan the wild desire ? Was it for this that souls divine were born, Ambition's devious footsteps to pursue ? Was it for this that* like the roseate morn, The charms of Virtue were display'd to view ? 126 Yes : — and for Glory was each mortal form 9 A- $ Yet not for that which Caesar fondly sought, When Roman liberties and rights he storm'd, And with the price of blood an empire bought. Rous'd into life by Fame's celestial sound, Say, will her vot'ry not the call obey ? With more than bays, or laurels, to be crown'd, With pomp more solid, and more true than they } To follow Virtue in her native guise, And white-rob'd Innocence, where'er she strays ; To aim at Glory's grand, substantial prize, To gain Heav'n's plaudit, and immortal praise. When Death from durance sets the captive free, Shifts this bleak scene for fields of rosy hue, 127 What unknown regions will die spirit see ! What worlds of wonder burst upon his view I Where is the man, who would not wish to gain Unfading honours, and a deathless name ; Forego each earth-born pleasure with disdain* To shine eternal in the lists of Fame ? For these are objectjs worthy of your choice, Ye sons of opulence, who bask in state! These give intrinsic, and perennial joys, Inspire the soul ambitious to be great* Then let not Avarice, with deceitful smile, Blast each fond hope that elevates the min No more by Tay's sweet murm'ring stream The Muse delighted loves to stray ; No more she sings the pleasing theme, That charm'd the youthful hours away. But, bending to a western sky, Where alien prospects rise to view ; Pensive she turns her anxious eye, And bids her native home adieu. J 57 And all along the solemn shore, She tunes the long neglected lay ; And weeps to think that now no more She hails with joy a natal day. By Mem'ry's aid to former scenes, — . To scenes of youth again she flies ; Where oft on Cowrie's peaceful plains, She saw this happy morn arise. Long on the .downy lap of ease, By flow'ry meads, she lay reclin'd ; While all that charm'd, whate'er could please* Vainly amus'd the vacant mind. And oft to sooth the list'ninp^ ear, Where winding waters gently play ; 158 Enamour' d, sung the varying year, And hail'd anew my natal day. But what avails this new-born day, And what each former scene of joy : O chace the phantom far away, And ev'ry fading tint destroy ! Ah no ! how sweet to linger here ! Again my native fields to trace How kind the bliss ! and O how dear To meet a parent's fond embrace ! Yet, yet I see the much-lov'd form That gently rear'd my tender frame — Th' endearing smile, with friendship warm, That nurs'd this kindred, vital flame. 159 Yet still I feel the sacred tie, By nature form'd, by love refin'd : — • The kindly look, the watchful eye, That spoke a parent's anxious mind- And all enraptur'd still I hear Her voice — the gentle voice of peace ; Yet still it vibrates on mine ear, And lulls my soul in fancied bliss. These, these are charms that round this heart Still twist the filial cords of love ; That still ecstatic joys impart, And ev'ry rising scene improve. But now no more — the modest mein, The smiling looks a parent wore,-— 160 The voice of peace, the smile serene — All, all are fled to charm no more. Stretch'd on the awful bed of Death — Indulgent Heav'n ! one moment spare ! — Too late to watch the parting breath ; Too late the farewell wish to share ! * And when to yonder spot, forlorn, Trembling I bore the parent bier, The bursting heart, with anguish torn, Forbade these eyes to shed a tear. Then, then I felt — but what avail These tragic scenes of genuine woe ? * Ah ! certe extremum licuisset tangere dextram, Et bene compositos placide morrentes ocellos, Et dixisse, " Vale, nostri memor ibis ad astra". 'Miltoni Epitaphium Damonis, i. e. Diodati. 161 And what this tender, mournful tale, That gives the willing tears to flow ? Or, when of late in midnight gloom, By Love's pale hand, by Friendship led, Again I sought the silent tomb, And lonely wept o'er her cold bed. This precious dust to me how dear, Tho' shrouded from the solemn view ! Still Mem'ry loves to linger here, Nor dares to bid a last adieu. But see ! my sinking spirits fail — The fond delusion charms no more — And must I bid the long farewell ? And must I seek a distant shore ? 162 Ah no 1 these scenes I'll ne'er forget, These tender scenes of filial woe ; Till this fond heart shall cease to beat, And life's receding stream to flow. Far hence with drooping wing the Muse Turns cheerless to yon alien plain ; And there a length 'ning tract she views Of anxious bus'ness, care, and paki. There oft, when sweet the star of eve Shines glist'ning o'er the azure deep ; She'll love in solitude to grieve, " And mid the varied landscape weep.' And, all along the solemn shore, Unfriended, tune the tender lay ; And mourn to think that now no more, She hails with joy this natal day. STANZAS ON THE RETURN OF THE SAME DAY* JANUARY, 1781. Detain'd a stranger on this desart earth, Where flatt'ring hopes the youthful mind betray ; I hail the annual morn that gave me birth, And mark the dawning of a natal day. The Muse, unmindful of her wonted fire, That sketch'd the Seasons as they roll'd along, With trembling fear now strings the broken lyre, To cheer the moments with a Birth-day song. x 2 164 could she rise, as once she early rose, With Truth, not Fancy, for her surer guide I She'd ardent sing of Virtue's deadly foes, And lovely Friendship bleeding at her side. How, from a parent's last embraces torn, I bade my native home a long adieu ; Where smil'd the blushes of the vernal morn, And rain-bow visions mock'd th' enraptur'd view. How, as I travell'd life's deceitful road, The gath'ring clouds obscur'd the azure sky ; 1 sought warm Friendship's peaceful, kind abode, "While tears of sorrow stream 'd from either eye. How, unsuspicious of the baneful arts The selfish, interested world devise, 165 I felt the pain that stubborn pride imparts. And saw the thickening storm around me rise, How, as I lov'd — but ah ! the tender lay The feeble Muse reluctant tries in vain ; Why fled these pleasing scenes of life away I Ah, why was man born only to complain ! But hush these murmurs — On this sea-beat shore Still as I wander friendless, and forlorn, See, undeserv'd, from Heav'n's all bounteous store, Unnumber'd blessings mark this natal morn ! Tho' care's sharp arrows pierce my anxious mind, Too prone to feel, and oft too weak to bear ; Kind balmy health, with manly vigour johvd, Heals the deep wound, and dries the falling tear. 166 Tho' no domestic sweets, in social peace, Unfold their bloom, arid raise the sprightly strain ; No female friend, nor beauty's winning grace, Charm the lone hours, or smooth the bed of pain. The Heav'nly Power that bless'd my early days, And caus'd young Nature's lovely face to smile, Shall teach the hymn of gratitude and praise, And all my sorrows, all my cares beguile. Thus still a stranger in this distant clime, Patience and Hope shall tune the cheerful lay ; Till, bursting o'er the narrow bounds of time, With endless joy, I hail a brighter natal day. ODE ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF SPRING, 1785. TO F ID E L E. Yet Winter, with his varied train Of tempests keen, and storms severe, Relentless binds the fruitless plain, And governs still the shifting year. No more I seek the ivy'd bower, Which Summer deck'd in fair array ; Where oft reclin'd, at ev'ning hour, Cheerful I tun'd the sportive lay. 168 No more to sooth the pensive mind The woodland song salutes the ear ; Nor wafted on the gentle wind The blackbird's tender notes I hear. No more to paint the flow'ry vale The damask rose in beauty blooms ; Nor yet to scent the balmy gale Carnations shed their rich perfumes. But what tho' Nature please no more, Tho' Winter still prolong his reign ; And soil'd the robes that Summer wore, And mute the songster's tuneful strain* Tho' Spring, in lovely dress array'd, Delay to deck our gardens gay ; 169 And southern gales deny their aid To chase the lengthen' d storm away : See, dear Fidele, round us rise Domestic sweets to bless the year — ■ Rich comforts in a Parent's eyes Unfold their early blossoms here. These lovely babes of tender age, — * The fairest flow'rs in Nature's field — Each anxious fervent thought engage, And still increasing pleasure yield. Their prattling talk — their artless smile, More kindly than the vernal morn, The various cares of life beguile, And Nature's gayest scenes adorn. Y 170 The laughing look, the playful kiss, As round the neck entwine their arms — The sweetest sure of human bliss, The fairest far of earthly charms. Long may these lovely flow'rets bloom, — The pledges of smcerest love ; And Heav'n, for many a year to come. Their tender opening minds improve. Then, my Fidele ! tho' the storms Of Winter still prolong their sway, Soft Spring, with all her smiling charms. Shall kindly bless each future day. ELEGY OJV THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER, WHO DIED AT AN EARLY PERIOD OF LIFE, On the 2nd of May, 1788, After a long illness. TO THE SAME. In vain the wish — Tho' gentle Spring * Hath breath'd her sweets thro' ev'ry grove, Hath taught the feather'd tribes to sing, And wak'd to rapture and to love : Too weak, alas ! her boasted pow'r To animate the languid flame ; Or, lengthening out the doubtful hour, To raise sweet Margaret's lovely frame, * Alluding to the preceding Ode. Y 2 172 Long, long did early Nature strive To check Disease's fatal sway — Her smiling lustre to revive, And chase increasing pain away. Ah ! many a day, and many an hour, While life stood doubtful in her eye. We cherish'd soft this fading flow'r, And met her plaints with many a sigh. But yet in vain parental care Sooth' d all her feelings, all her wees ; • In vain we pour'd the fervent prayer, And tried each cure that med'eine knows. Yet Hope alternate spread its smile, And kindly cheer' d her tender form — j 173 The long, long moments to beguile Oft would she talk — oft would she charm. Till stopt at last her artless tongue, Without a murmur, or a sigh — All o'er her lovely frame we hung— We saw her fade — we saw her die. But what avail parental tears ? — Her smiling mein can please no more — Yet still in death the form appears That during life she sweetly wore. But tho', by Pity's melting eye Her sorrowing face shall long be seen ; And Memory dwell with many a sigh On her fond words, and comely mein ; 174 Yet, pointing to some future day, When her fair form shall fairer rise, Hope beams with soft consoling ray, And slowly wipes our weeping eyes. For sure, that brighter day shall come, When wounded hearts shall cease to grieve j When Parents, from the opening tomb, Shall all their long-lost gifts receive. Then, my Fidele ! we shall view This sweetest flow'ret bloom again — Nor part, nor bid the long adieu, Where one eternal Spring shall reign. ERRATA. Page 145, line 3d .for Gorden read Gordon. Page 160, line 14th.. .for morrentes read morientta. CONTENTS. vt\» ^-%. -v* w The Forsaken Shepherd, Page 9 Ode on the Nezv Yea?-, 19 The Invocation: to Spring, 24? Verses on May ; by a Lady, 29 Summer, „ 32 Autumn, ... 36 Winter, 40 The Garland,... 44 The Potver of Beauty, 47 Ode on the Author's Birth day, 50 Ode to the Day Lily,..* 58 Ode to Fortune, 62 Ode to Solitude, 67 Ode to Melancholy, 72 Ode to Humility, 77 Ode to Hope, 32 Ode to Peace, , 88 176 CONTENTS. Ode to Joy,... Page 94 Ode on the Immortality of the Soid, 99 Night, 106 The Complaint ; on the Northern Emigrations, ....110 Elegy on the death of a Country Sexton, 117 Ambition : an Elegy, 124 The Charms of Friendship, 129 Elegy : to the Memory of Thomas Hay Drum- mond, Esq..,.. 136 Elegy on the death of Miss E. Milne, c.,141 Elegy : to the Memory of A. Gordon Steiva?'t, Esq. 146 Elegy : on the death of a young Gentleman qfGlas- gozv, 150 Elegiac Verses on the Author's Birth day, 156 Stanzas on the return of the same day, 163 Ode : on the backwardness of Spring, 1785, 167 Elegy on the death of a Daughter, 171 GLASGOW: Printed by R. Chapman. 1810. ^a^^rSWA/* P W^C7 W &*7^^ w}Nm^ *»v« ^mmm^ mmMMm »«yv«*^9( mmmmmmmm ■ Mi','.,,: "..;, ^mm 'vw^.ywwwwi Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 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