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A
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THE
LYRIC POETRY of the ANCIENTS;
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C O N T E N T S.
An ESSAY on the LYRIC POETRY of the ANCIENTS.
Page
LETTER I.
LETTER II.
jii
xxxix
11
8
ODES, &C.
To MELANCHOLY
To the Genius of SHAKESPEAR
Το TIME
TO SLEEP
T. EVENING
To Innocence
16
23
29
11
11
11
36
The Day of JUDGMENT. A Poem.
Book I.
Book II.
49
79
MIS-
...
.
C ο Ν Τ Ε Ν Τ S.
116
I 20
I 28
_
MISCELLANEOUS POEM S.
The 148th Psalm paraphraſed
Page 107
Verses to a Lady, with VOLTAIRĖ's Temple of Taſte 112
A Town ECLOGUE
Jupiter and the Clown. A Fable
An Elegy on the DEATH of a LÍNNET
An EVENING PIECE
131
To Miſs
with a Flower
134
Sappho's Ode to Venus tranſlated
To the Memory of Mrs.
To the Memory of Mr. H*** M***
*** M***. An Elegy 143
To the Memory of the late pious and ingenious
Mr. HERVEY
The Third Chapter of HABAKKUK paraphraſed 152
136
138
To the member of the late pions and ingeniowy
147
.
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i
AN Ν.
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29
AN
E S S
A Y
ON
THE
LYRIC POETRY
OF THE
ANCI E N T S.
HU M B L Y
INSCRIBED
Τ Ο Τ Η Ε
RIGHT
HONOURABLE
JAMES Lord DESKFOORD.
:
“
2006
.
蒙
​-
.
( iri )
Α Ν
E
S
S
A Y
*
ON
Τ Η Ε
LYRIC POETRY of the ANCIENTS.
L E T T E R I.
MY LORD , ,
T is an obſervation, no doubt, familiar to your Lord-
ſhip, that Genius is the offspring of Reaſon and
Imagination properly moderated, and co-operating
with united influence to promote the diſcovery, or the
illuſtration of truth. Though it is certain that a ſepa-
rate province is aſſigned to each of theſe faculties, yet it
often becomes a matter of the greateſt difficulty to
pre-
vent them from making mutual encroachments, and from
leading to extremes which are the more dangerous, be-
cauſe they are brought on by an imperceptible progreſ-
b 2
fion.
:
iv
AN ESSAY ON
THE
fion.-Reaſon in every mind is an uniform power, and its
appearance is regular, and invariably permanent. When
this Faculty therefore predominates in the ſphere of com-
poſition, ſentiments will follow each other in connected
ſucceſſion, the arguments employed to prove any point
will be juſt and forcible; the ſtability of a work will be
principally conſidered, and little regard will be payed to
its exterior ornament. Such a work however, though it
may be valued by a few for its intrinſic excellence, yet
can never be productive of general improvement, as at-
tention can only be fixed by entertainment, and enter-
tainment is incompatible with unvaried uniformity *.
On the contrary, when Imagination is permitted to
beſtow the of ornament indiſcriminately, we either
find in the general 'that ſentiments are ſuperficial, and
thinly ſcattered through a work, or we are obliged to
ſearch for them beneath a load of fuperfluous colouring.
Such, my Lord, is the appearance of the ſuperior Facul-
ties of the mind when they are diſunited from each other,
or when either of them ſeems to be remarkably predomi-
graces
nant.
Your Lordſhip is too well acquainted with this ſub-
ject not to have obſerved, that in compoſition, as in com-
mon
Neque ipſa Ratio (ſays the elegant and ſenſible Quintilian ſpeaking of
Eloquence) tam nos juvaret, nifi quæ concepiſſemus mente, promere eciam
loquendo poffemus,-ita, ut non modo orare, fed quod Pericli contigit ful-
gurare, ac tonare videamur. Inſtitut. Orat. Lib. XI. c. 16.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS.
mon life, extremes, however pernicious, are not always ſo
diſtant from each other, as upon ſuperficial inſpection we
may be apt to conclude. Thus in the latter, an obftinate
adherence to particular opinions is contracted by obſerving
the conſequences of volatility; indifference ariſeth from
deſpiſing the ſofter feelings of tenderneſs; pride takes its
origin from the diſdain of compliance; and the firſt ſtep
to avarice is the deſire of avoiding profuſion. Inconve-
niencies ſimilar to theſe are the conſequences of temerity
in canvaſſing the ſubjects of ſpeculation. The mind of
an Author receives an early bias from prepoſſeſſion, and
the diſlike which he conceives to a particular fault preci-
pitates him at once to the oppoſite extreme. For this rea-
ſon perhaps it is, that young authors who poſſeſs ſome de-
gree of Genius, affect on all occaſions a florid manner
and clothe their ſentiments in the dreſs of imagery. To
them nothing appears fo diſguſting as dry and lifeleſs uni-
formity; and inſtead of purſuing a middle courſe betwixt
the extremes of profufion and fterility, they are only fo-
licitous to fhun that error of which Prejudice hath ſhown
the moſt diſtorted reſemblance. It is indeed but ſeldom,
that Nature adjuſts the intellectual ballance fo accurately
as not to throw an unequal weight into either of the ſcales.
Such
* This is the manner which Quintilian appropriates particularly to young
perſons..-In juvenibus etiam uberiora paulo & pene periclitantia feruntur,
At in iiſdem ficcum, & contractum dicendi propoſitum plerunque affecta-
tione ipfa ſeveritatis inviſum eſt: quando etiam morum ſenilis autoritas im-
matura in adoleſcentibus creditur. Lib. II. c. 1.
Y.
I
vi
AN ESSAY ON THE
Such likewiſe is the ſituation of man, that in the firſt
ſtage of life the predominant Faculty engrofſeth his atten-
tion, as the predominant Paſſion influenceth his actions.
Inſtead therefore of ſtrengthening the weaker power by
aſſiſting its exertions, and by ſupplying its defects, he is
adding force to that which was originally too ſtrong; and
the ſame reflection which diſcovers his error, ſhows him
likewiſe the difficulty of correcting it. Even in thoſe
minds, in which the diſtribution was primarily equal,
education, habit, or feme early bias is ready to break
that perfeet poiſe which is neceſſary to conſtitute con-
fummate excellence.
From this account of the different manners, in which
the faculties of the mind exert themſelves in the ſphere
of compoſition, your Lordſhip will immediately obſerve,
that the Poet who attempts to combine diſtant ideas, to
catch remote alluſions, to form vivid and agreeable pic-
tures; is more apt from the very nature of his profeſſion
to ſet up a falſe ſtandard of excellence, than the cool and
difpaflionate Philoſopher who proceeds deliberately from
poſition to argument, and who employs Imagination only
as the Handmaid of a ſuperior faculty. Having gone thus
far, like perſons who have got into a track from which
they cannot recede, we may venture to proceed a ſtep
farther; and affirm that the Lyric Poet is expoſed to this
hazard more nearly than any other, and that to prevent
him
.
:
.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. vii
him from falling into the extreme we have mentioned,
will require the exerciſe of the cloſeſt attention.
That I may illuſtrate this obſervation as fully as the
nature of the ſubject will permit, it will be expedient to
enquire into the end which Lyric Poetry propoſeth to ob-
tain, and to examine the original ſtandards from which
the rules of this art are deduced.
ARISTOTLE, who has treated of poetry at great length,
afligns two cauſes of its origin,---Imitation and Harmony;
both of which are natural to the human mind*. By
Imitation he underſtands, " whatever employs means to
repreſent any ſubject in a natural manner, whether it
" hath a real or imaginary exiſtence 1." The deſire of
imitating is originally ſtamped on the mind, and is a
ſource of perpetual pleaſure.
« Thus” (ſays the great
Critic) “ though the figures of wild beaſts, or of dead
men, cannot be viewed as they naturally are without
“ horror and reluctance; yet the Imitation of theſe in
" painting is highly agreeable, and our pleaſure is aug-
“ mented in proportion to that degree of reſemblance
" which we conceive to fubfift betwixt the Original and
" the Copy t.” By Harmony he underſtands not the
num-
* Εικασι δε γεννησαι μεν ολας την Ποιητικην, αιτιαι διο και αυται φυσικας,
μευσθαι συμφυτου τους ανθρωποις, &c. Και Αρμονια και ρυθμος εξ αρχης οι σεφικτες
προς αυτά μάλιςα κατα μικρου προαγουτες εγεννησαν την Ποιησιν" Αrift. Poet. C. 4.
| The Reader of curioſity may ſee this ſubject particularly diſcuſſed in
Dacier's Remarks on the Poeticks of Ariſtotle, c. 4.
Η Α γαρ αυτα λυπήρας ορωμεν, τουτων τας εικωνας τας μαλιστα ηκριβωμενας, χαιρο-
de tu SEGEXITESGOTHves FrigEwu TE LO Q«s TW &7910T&TWxj veupWv, &c. Poet. C. 4.
Το
TOP-
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vii
AN E 6 SA Y ON THE
!
numbers or meaſures of poetry only, but that muſic of
language, which when it is juſtly adapted to variety of
ſentiment or deſcription, contributes moſt effectually to
unite the pleaſing with the inſtructive*. This indeed
feems to be the opinion of all the Ancients who have
written on this ſubject. Thus Plato lays expreſſly, that
thoſe Authors who employ numbers and images without
muſic have no other merit than that of throwing proſe
into meaſure t.
You will no doubt be of opinion, my Lord, upon
reflecting on this ſubject, that Poetry was originally of an
earlier-date than Philoſophy, and that its different ſpecies
were brought to a certain pitch of perfection' before that
Science had been cultivated in an equal degree. Expe-
rience informs us on every occaſion, that 'Imagination
Thoots forward to its full growth, and even becomes wild
and luxuriant, when the reaſoning Faculty' is only begin-
ning to open, and is wholly unfit to correct the ſeries of
accurate deduction. The information of the fenfes (from
which Fancy generally borrows her images) always ob-
tains the earlieſt credit, and makes for that reaſon the
moft laſting impreſſions. The fällies of this irregularFa-
culty
1
***Fx yap Mest pes etmipumpox Tuvieu@pww.851, Pavegar. Ub. fup.
+ Ρυθμσν μεν και χημιωσα μελες χωρις λογος ψιλος εις μετρα τιθεντες. The per-
itfong nhoido this, he compares to Maficians. Menog de:ev xj.oul pies, awey gupeer-
Two buna xofapigeo Te se avamo in paring option. Plat. des Legib. i lib)XI.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. ix
culty are likewiſe abrupt and inſtantaneous, as they are
generally the effects of a ſudden impulſe which reaſon is
not permitted to reſtrain. As therefore we have already
ſeen, that the deſire of imitating is innate to the mind (if
your Lordſhip will permit me to make uſe of an unphi -
loſophical epithet) and as the firſt inhabitants of the world
were employed in the culture of the field, and in ſurveying
the ſcenery of external Nature, it is probable that the firſt
rude draughts of Poetry wereextemporary effufions, either
deſcriptive of the ſcenes of paſtoral life, or extolling the
attributes of the Supreme Being. On this account Plato
ſays that Poetry was originally ExteQ Miyemais *, or an in-
{pired imitation of thofe objects which produced either
pleaſure or admiration. To paint thoſe obje&ts which pro-
duced pleaſure was the buſinefs of the paftoral, and to
diſplay thoſe which raiſe admiration was the taſk con-
figned to the Lyric Poet. To excite this paflion, no
method was ſo effectual as that of celebrating the perfec,
tions of the Powers who were ſuppoſed to preſide over
Nature. The Ode therefore in its firſt formation was a
ſong in honour of theſe Powers I, either ſung at ſolemn
feſtivals or after the days of Amphion who was the inven-
:
C
tor
• Plat. lo.
Nec prima illa poft fecula per ætates fane complures alio Lyrici ſpecta-
runt, quam ut. Deorum laudes ac decora, aut virorum fortium res preclare
geftas Hympis ac Pæanibus, ad templa & aras complecterentur ;-ut ad emu-
lationem captos admiratione mortales invitarent. Strad, Prolur.
4
Poet:
X
AN ESSAY ON
THE
tor of the Lyre, accompanied with the muſick of that-
inſtrument. Thus Horace tells us,
Muſa dedit fidibus Divos, pueroſque Divorum *,
The Muſe to nobler ſubjects tun'd her lyre,
Gods, and the ſons of Gods her ſong inſpire. Francis,
In this infancy of the arts, when it was the buſineſs of
the Muſe, as the ſame Poet informs us,
Publica privatis fecernere, ſacra prophanis ;
Concubitu prohibere vago, dare jura maritis,
Oppida moliri, leges includere lignot.
Poetic Wiſdom mark'd with happy mean,
Public and private, ſacred and profane,
The wandering joys of lawleſs love ſuppreſt,
With equal rites the wedded couple bleſt,
Plann'd future towns, and inſtituted laws, &c. FRANCIS
your Lordſhip will immediately conclude that the ſpecies
of Poetry which was firſt cultivated (eſpecially when its
end was to excite admiration) muft for that reaſon have
been the looseſt and the moſt undetermined. There are
indeed particular circumſtances, by the concurrence of
which one branch of an Art may be rendered perfect,
when it is firſt introduced ; and theſe circumſtances were
favourable to the Authors of the Eclogue. But whatever
ſome readers may think, your Lordſhip will not look upon
it as a paradox, to affirm that the fame cauſes which pro-
duced
# Hor. de Art. Poet.
+ Id. ibid,
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xi
...
duced this advantage to paſtoral poetry, contributed in
an equal degree to make the firſt Lyric Poems the moſt
vague, unccrtain, and diſproportioned ſtandards.
In general it may be obſerved, that the difficulty of
eſtabliſhing rules is always augmented in proportion to
the variety of objects which an Art includes. Paſtoral
Poetry is defined by an ingenious Author, to be an imi-
tation of what may be ſuppoſed to paſs among Shepherds *.
This was accompliſhed the more eaſily by the firſt per-
formers in this art, becauſe they were themſelves employed
in the occupation which they deſcribe, and the ſubjects
which fell within their ſphere muſt have been confined to
a very narrow circle. They contented themſelves with
painting in the ſimpleſt language the external beauties of
nature, and with conveying an image of that age in which
men generally lived on the footing of equality, and fol-
lowed the dictates of an underſtanding uncultivated by
Art. In ſucceeding ages, when manners became more
poliſhed, and the refinements of luxury were ſubſtituted
in place of the fimplicity of Nature, men were ſtill fond
of retaining an idea of this happy period (which perhaps
originally exiſted in its full extent, only in the imagina-
tion of Poets) and the character of a perfect paſtoral was
juſtly
* Toute Poeſie eſt une imitation. La Poeſie Bucolique a pour but d'i-
miter ce qui a paſſe et ce qui ce dit entre les Bergers. Mem. de Lit. V.IH.
C 2
P. 158.
xii
AN ESSAY ON THE
juſtly drawen from the writings of thoſe. Authors who
firſt attempted to excel in it.*.
Though we muſt acknowledge, that the poetic repre-
ſentations of a golden age are chinerical, and that deſcrip--
tions of this kind were not always meaſured by the ſtan-
dard of truth; yet it muſt be allowed at the ſame time,
that at a period when Manners were uniform and natu-
ral, the Eclogue, whoſe principal excellence lies in ex-
hibiting ſimple and lively pictures of common objects and
common characters, was brought at once to a ſtate of
greater perfection by the perſons who introduced it, than
it could have arrived at in a more improved and enlight-
ned aera.
You will obſerve, my Lord, that theſe circumſtances
were all of them unfavourable to Lyric Poetry. The
Poet in this branch of his Art propoſed as his principal
aim to excite Admiration, and his mind without the af-
ſiſtance of critical ſkill was left to the unequal taſk of
preſenting ſucceeding ages with the rudiments of Science.
He was at liberty indeed to range through the ideal
world, and to collect images from every quarter ;. but in
this reſearch he proceeded without a guide, and his ima-.
be
gination
* Elle ne doit pas s'en tenir a la ſimple repreſentation du vrai reel, qui
rarement ſeroit agreable; elle doit s'elever juſqu'au vrai ideal, qui tendᵒ a
embellir le vrai, tel qu'il eſt dans la nature, et qui produit dans la Poeſie
comme dans la Peinture, le derniere point de perfection, &c. Mem, de
Lit. ub. ſup.
I
LYRIC POETRY Of The ANCIENTS. xiii
gination like a fiery courſer with looſe reins was left to
purſue that path into which it deviated by accident, or
was enticed by temptation. In ſhort, Paſtoral Poetry
takes in only a few objects, and is characterized by that
fimplicity, tenderneſs, and delicacy which were happily
and eaſily united in the work of an ancient Shepherd.
He had little uſe for the rules of criticiſm, becauſe he was
not much expoſed to the danger of infringing them. The
Lyric Poet on the other hand took a more diverſified and
extenſive range, and his imagination required a ſtrong
and ſteady rein to correct its vehemence, and reſtrain its
rapidity. Though therefore we can conceive without
difficulty, that the Shepherd in his poetic effuſions might
contemplate only the external objeEts which were pre-
fented to him, yet we cannot ſo readily believe that the
mind in framing a Theogony, or in aſſigning diſtinct
provinces to the Powers who were ſuppoſed to preſide
over Nature, could in its firſt Efſays proceed with ſo calm
and deliberate a pace through the fields of invention, as
that its work ſhould be the perfect pattern of juſt and
corrected compoſition.
From theſe obſervations laid together, your Lordſhip
will judge of the ſtate of Lyric Poetry, when it was firſt
introduced, and will perhaps be inclined to aſſent to a
part of the propoſition laid down in the beginning, “ that
as. Poets in general are more apt to ſet up a falſe ſtan-
" dard
wiert
نتنننتننعنعنه ، ،سد
1
en mano los medios
xiv
AN ESSAY ON
THE
“ dard of excellence than Philoſophers are, ſo the Lyric
“ Poet was expoſed to this danger more immediately
" than any other member of the ſame profeſſion.” Whe-
ther or not the preceding Theory can be juſtly applied
to the works of the firſt Lyric Poets, and how far the
Ode continued to be characteriſed by it in the more im-
proved ſtate of ancient Learning, are queſtions which
can only be anſwered by taking a ſhort view of both.
It is indeed, my Lord, much to be regretted, that
we have no certain guide to lead us through that laby-
rinth in which we grope for the diſcovery of Truth, and
are ſo often entangled in the maze of Error when we at-
tempt to explain the origin of Science, or to trace the
manners of remote antiquity. I ſhould be at a loſs to
enter upon this perplexed and intricate ſubject, if I did
not know, that Hiſtory has already familiarized to your
Lordſhip the principal objects which occur in this re-
ſearch, and that it is the effect of extenſive knowledge
and ſuperior penetration to invigorate the effort of Diffi-
dence, and to repreſs the ſurmiſes of undiſtinguiſhing
Cenſure.
THE Inhabitants of Greece who make ſo eminent a
figure in the records of Science, as well as in the Hiſtory
of the progreſſion of Empire, were originally a ſavage
and lawleſs people, who lived in a ſtate of war with one
another, and poſſeſſed a deſolate country, from which
they
LYRIC POETRY Of The ANCIENTS.
XV
they expected to be driven by the invaſion of a foreign
enemy *. Even after they had begun to emerge from
this ſtate of abſolute barbarity, and had built a kind of
cities to reſtrain the encroachments of the neighbouring
nations, the inland country continued to be laid waſte by
the depredations of robbers, and the maritime towns were
expoſed to the incurſions of pirates t. Ingenious as this
people naturally were, the terror and ſuſpence in which
they lived for a conſiderable time, kept them unac-
quainted with the Arts and Sciences which were flouriſh-
ing in other countries. When therefore a Genius capa-
ble of civilizing them ſtarted up, it is no wonder that
they held him in the higheſt eſtimation, and concluded
that he was either deſcended from, or inſpired by ſome
of thoſe Divinities whoſe praiſes he was employed in re-
hearſing.
Such was the ſituation of Greece, when Linus, Or-
pheus, and Muſeus, the firſt Poets whoſe names have
reached pofterity, made their appearance on the theatre
of life. Theſe writers undertook the difficult taſk of re-
forming their ccuntrymen, and of laying down a theolo-
gical and philoſophical ſyſtem 1.—We are informed by
Diogenes
* Thucyd. Lib. I.
I Authors are not agreed as to the Perſons who introduced into Greece
the principles of philofophy. Tatian will have it that the Greek Philoſophy
came originally from Ægypt. Orat. con. Graec. While Laertius (who
.9
+ Id. ibid.
5
çer-
xvi
AN ESSAY ON THE
Diogenes Laertius, that Linus, the Father of Grecian
Poetry, was the ſon of Mercury and the Muſe Urania,
and that he ſung of the Generation of the world, of the
courſe of the ſun and moon, of the origin of animals,
and of the principles of vegetation *. He taught, ſays
the fame Author, that all things were formed at one
time, and that they were jumbled together in a Chaos,
till the operation of a Mind introduced regularity.
After all, however, we muſt acknowledge, that ſo
complex, ſo diverſified, and ſo ingenious a ſyſtem as the
Greek Theology, was too much for an uninftru£ted Ge-
nius, however exuberant, to have conceived in its full
extent. Accordingly we are told, that both Orpheus
and Muſeus travelled into Ægypt, and infuſed the tradi-
tionary learning of a cultivated people into the minds of
their own illiterate countrymen t. To do this the more
effectually, they compoſed Hymns, or ſhort fonnets, in
which their meaning was couched under the veil of beau-
tiful allegory, that their lefflons might at once arreſt the
imagi-
certainly might have been better informed) will allow Foreigners to have
had no ſhare in it. He aſcribes its origin to Linus, and ſays expreſsly, AQ
Ελληνων ηρξε Φιλοσοφια ης και αυτο το ονομα την Βαρβαρον απες ραπε προσηγοριαν.
Laer. in Proem.
* This account of the ſubjects on which Linus wrote, ſuggeſts a further
prejudice in favour of Laertius's opinion as to the origin of Greek Philofo--
phy. He has preſerved the firſt line of his Poem.
Ην ποτε χρονος 8τος εν ω αμα παντ’ επεφυκει. Ιd. ibid.
+ Herod. Lib. I. C. 49.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xvii
imagination, and be impreſſed upon the Memory*. This,
my Lord, we are informed by the great Critic, was the
firſt dreſs in which Poetry made its appearance to
Of Orpheus we know little more with certainty, than
that the ſubjects of his poems were the formation of the
world, the offspring of Saturn, the birth of the Giants,
and the origin of man I. Theſe were favourite topics
among
the firſt Poets, and the diſcuſſion of them tended
at once to enlarge the imagination, and to give the rea-
ſoning faculty a proper degree of exerciſe.
exerciſe. This Poet
however, though he obtained the higheſt honours from
his contemporaries, yet ſeems to have managed his ſub-
jects in fo looſe a manner, that ſucceeding Writers will
not allow him to have been a Philoſopher II. At preſent
we are not ſufficiently qualified to determine his charac-
ter, as moſt of the pieces which paſs under his name are
aſcribed to one Onomacritus, an Athenian who flouriſhed
about the time of Piſiſtratus. That the writings of Or-
pheus were highly and extenſively uſeful, is a truth con-
firmed by the moſt convincing evidence. The extraordi-
d
nary
* Univ. Hiſt. Vol. VI. p. 221.
* Οι μεν γαρ σεμνοτεροι τας καλας εμιμεντο πραξεις και τας των τοιχτων τυχα;" οι
δε ευτελεςεροι τας των Φαυλαν πρωτον ψογες τοιαυτες, «σπερ ετεροι ΥΜΝΟΥΣ και,
Ε Γ Κ Ω ΜΙΑ,
, Ariſt. Poet. C. 4.
I Orph. Argonaut.
-1 Εγω δε ει τον σερι θεων εξαγορευσαντα τοιαυτα χρη φιλοσοφον καλειν εκ οιδα τινα
δει προσαγορευειν του το ανθρωπειον σαθος αφειδoιντο τους θεοις προςρεψαι, και τα σπα-
και ας υπο τειων ανθρωπων αιχρεργομενα, και των ταυτης φωνης οργανω.
Laer. ub. ſup:
1
xvjii
AN ESSAY
ON THE
nary effects which his Poetry and Muſic are ſaid to have
produced, however abſurd and incredible in themſelves,
are yet unqueſtioned proofs that he was conſidered as a
fuperior Genius, and that his countrymen thought them-
felves highly indebted to him. Horace gives an excellent
account of this matter in very few words.
Sylveſtres homines, Sacer, Interpreſque Deorum
Cædibus, & vietu fædo deterruit Orpheus,
Dietus ob hoc lenire tigres, rabidoſque leones *.
The wood-born race of men when Orpheus tam'd,
From acorns, and from mutual blood reclaim'd.
The Prieſt divine was fabled to aſſuage
The tiger's fierceneſs, and the lion's rage.
FRANCIS.
Museus, the Pupil of Orpheus, is as little known to
poſterity as his Maſter. His only genuine production
which has reached the preſent times is an Ode to Ceres, a
piece indeed full of exuberance and variety t. The Ancients
in general ſeem to have entertained a very high opinion of
his Genius and writings, as he is ſaid to have been the firſt
perſon who compoſed a regular Theogony, and is like-
wiſe celebrated as the inventor of the Sphere I. His prin-
ciple
* Hor. de Art. Poet.
+ The beautiful ſtory of Hero and Leander, which was written by a
perſon of his name, is thought to have been the work of a Grammarian
who lived about the 5th century: a conjecture ſupported by very probable
evidence. See Kenneth's life of Muſeus, p. 10.
I Diogen. Laert, ub. fup.
2. X.........."
en la internationale ingredientes is to die kinderen som har rekening te verbetere on the other items in sites koncerter to the return for the entran en mention
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xix
ܝܐ
ciple was that all things would finally reſolve into the
fime materials of which they were originally compound-
ed * Virgil aſſigns him a place of diſtinguiſhed emi-
nence in the plains of Elyſium.
fic eſt affata Sibylla,
Muſeum ante omnes, medium nam plurima turba
Hume habet, atque humeris extantem fufpicit altis ut.
The Sibyl thus addreſs’d
Mufæus, rais'd o'er all the circling throng.
Ir is generally allowed that Amphion, who was a na-
tive of Bæotia, brought muſic into Grecce from Lydia;
and invented that inſtrument (the Lyre) from which Ly-
ric Poetry takes its name I. Before his time they had no
d 2
re-
Diogen. Laert. ub. ſup.
+ Æneid. Lib. 6.
* It may not be amiſs here to give the reader ſome idea of the ſtructure
of the Ancient lyre, whoſe muſic is ſaid to have produced ſuch wonderful
effects. This inſtrument was compoſed of an hollow frame, over which
feveral ſtrings were thrown, probably in ſome ſuch manner as we ſee them
in an harp, or a dulcimer. They did not ſo much reſemble the viol, as the
neck of that inſtrument gives it peculiar advantages, of which the Ancients
fiem to have been wholly ignorant. The Muſician ſtood with a ſhort bow
in his right hand, and a couple of finall thimbles upon the fingers of his
left : with theſe he held one end of the ſtring, from wliich an acute found
was to be drawn, and then ſtruck it immediately with the bow. In the
other parts lie ſwept-cver every ſtring alternately, and allowed each of them
to have its full found. This practice became unneceſſary afterwards, when
the inſtrument was improved by the addition of new ſtrings, to which the
founds
3
memiliki tie tori tutto....
www.pinteresting to
XX
AN ESSAY ON THE
regular knowledge of this divine art, though we muſt be-
lieve that they were acquainted with it in ſome meaſure,
as dancing is an art in which we are informed that the
earlieſt Pocts were conſiderable proficients *.
Suci, my Lord, was the character of the firſt Lyric
Poets, and ſuch were the ſubjects upon which they exer-
ciſed invention. We have ſeen, in the courſe of this
1hort detail, that theſe Authors attempted to civilize a
barbarous people, whoſe imagination it was neceſſary to
ſeize by every poſſible expedient; and upon whom cha-
ſtiſed compoſition would have probably loſt its effect, as
its beauties are not perceptible to the rude and illiterate.
That they employed this method principally to inſtruct
their countrymen is more probable, when we remember
that the rudiments of learning were brought from Ægypt,
a country in which Fable and Allegory remarkably pre-
domi-
ſounds correſponded. Horace tells us, that in his time the lyre had ſeven
ſtrings, and that it was much more muſical than it had been originally. Ad-
dreſſing himſelf to Mercury, he ſays
Te docilis magiftra
Movit Amphion lapides canendo :
Tuque Teſtudo, refonare ſepten
Callida nervis;
Nec loquax olim, neque grata &c. Carm. Lib. III. Od. 11.
For a further account of this inſtrument, we ſhall refer the reader to Quin,
tilian's Inſtitutions. Lib. XII. C. 10.
* Particularly Orpheus and Muſeus. Lucian ſays in the general. Teaf-
την αρχαιαν εδεμιαν εςιν ευρειν ανου ορχησεως. Lib, de Salc.
*
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxi
:
dominated * By converſing with this people, it is na-
tural to ſuppoſe that men of impetuous imaginations
would imbibe their manner, and would adopt that ſpecics
of compoſition as the moſt proper, which was at the
ſame time agreeable to their own inclination, and autho-
riſed as expedient by the example of others.
From the whole, my Lord, we may conclude with
probability, that the Greek Hymn was originally a looſe
allegorical Poem, in which Imagination was permitted to
take its full career, and ſentiment was rendered at once
obſcure and agreeable, by being ſcreened behind a veil
of the richeſt poetic imagery.
The looſe fragments of theſe early writers which have
come down to our times, render this truth as conſpicu-
ous as the nature of the ſubject will permit. A Thco-
gony, or an account of the proceſſion of fabulous Deities,
was a theme on which Imagination might diſplay her in-
ventive power in its fulleſt extent. Accordingly Hefiod
introduces his work with recounting the genealogy of the
Muſes, to whom he aſſigns an apartment and attendants
near the ſummit of ſnowy Olympus t.” Theſe Ladies,
he
* This allegorical learning was ſo much in uſe among the Ægyptians;
that the Diſciples of a Philoſopher were bound by an oath. Εν υποκρυφους. .
ταυτα εχειν" και τους απαιδευτους και αμυητοις μη μεταδιδοναι. Vid. Seld. de Diis Syr,
+
Ησιν αοιδη
Μεμβλεται, εν στηθειν ακηδεα θυμον εχεσαις
Τμτθον απ ακροτατης κορυφης νιφοεντος Ολυμπου..
Ενθα σφιν λιπαροι τε χοροι, και δωματα καλα.
, . Theog. a lin. 65,
xxii AN ESSAY ON
ON THE
he tclis us,
came to pay him a viſit, and complimented
" him with a ſcepter ard a branch of laurel, when he
was feeding lis flock on the mountain of Helicon *.”
Some tale of this kind it was uſual with the Poets to in-
vent, that the vulgar in thoſe ages of fiction and igno-
rance mig!ıt conſider their perſons as facred, and that the
offspring of their imaginations might be regarded as the
children of Truth.
From the firme licentious uſe of Allegory and Meta-
plior ſprung the Fables of the wars of the Giants, of the
birth and education of Jupiter, of the dethroning of Sa-
turn, and of the provinces afligned by the Supreme to
the Inferior Deities; all of which are ſubjects faid to have
been particularly treated by Orpheus t. The love of Fa-
ble became indeed fo remarkably prevalent in the earlieſt
ages, that it is now impoſſible in many inſtances to di-
ftinguiſh real from apparent truth in the Hiſtory of theſe
times, and to diſcriminate the perſons who were uſeful
members of ſociety, from thoſe who exiſt only in the
works of a Poet, whoſe aim was profeſſedly to excite Ad-
miration. Thus every event of importance was disfigu-
red by the colouring of poetic narration, and by aſcrib-
ing to one man the ſeparate actions which perhaps were
per-
* Ως έφασαν Hoυραι μεγαλε Δι αρτιεπειαι
Kær M.Os Cretiçou edov, 2012; xşıðing9; con
Δρεψασθαι θηητου επε: ευσαν δε μοι ανιδης &c.
+ Orph. Hym. in Apollon. Rhod.
Theogon. 1. 30.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxiii
*
>
performed by ſeveral perſons of one name we are now
wholly unable to diſentangle truth from a perplexed and
complicated detail of real and fictitious incidents.
It appears likewiſe from theſe ſhreds of antiquity, that
the ſubjects of the Hymn were not ſufficiently limited, as
we ſometimes find one of them addreſſed to ſeveral Dei-
ties, whoſe different functions recurring conſtantly to the
mind muſt have occafioned unavoidable obſcurity +. The
Poet by this means was led into numberleſs digreſſions,
in which the remote points of connection will be imper-
ceptible to the reader, who cannot place himſelf in ſome
ſituation ſimilar to that of the Writer, and attend parti-
cularly to the character and manners of the period at
which he wrote.
YOUR
* Of this, Hiſtory furniſheth many examples. When one man made an
eminent figure in any profeſſion, the actions of other perſons who had the
ſame name were aſcribed to him; and it was perhaps partly for this reaſon
that we find different cities contending for the honour of giving birth to men
of Genius, or eminence. Callimachus in his Hymn to Jupiter makes an
artful uſe of this circumſtance.
Εν δομη μαλα θυμος" επει γενος αμφεριςου.
Ζευ σε μεν Γ' δαιοισιν εν ουρεσι φασι γενεσθαι
Ζευ σε δ' εν Αρκαδιη· σοτεροι Πατερ εψευσαντο
Κρητες αει ψευς αι:
°
και γαρ ταφον, ω ανα σειο
Κρητες ετεκηναντο· συ δ' ου θανες εσσι γαρ αιει. .
+ Thus Theocritus.
Υμνεομες Ληδας. Τε και αιγιοχα ΔιG Υιω,.
Καστορα και φοβερον Πολυδεύκεα αυξ ερεθιζεν
Υμνεομες και Δις, και το Τριτον.
Callim. p. 4
:
xxiv AN ESSAY ON
ON THE
Your Lord'hip, without the teſtimony of experience,
would hardly believe that a ſpecies of compoſition which
derived its origin from, and owed its peculiarities to the
circumſtances we have mentioned, could have been con-
fidered in an happier æra as a pattern worthy the imita-
tion of cultivated genius, and the perufal of a poliſhed
and civilized people. One is indeed ready to conclude,
at the firſt view, that a mode of writing which was af-
ſumed for a particular purpoſe, and was adapted to the
manners of an illiterate age, might at leaſt have under-
gone conſiderable alterations in ſucceeding periods, and
might have received improvements proportioned to thoſe
which are made in other branches of the ſame art. But
the fact is, that while the other branches of poetry have
been gradually modelled by the rules of criticiſm, the
Ode hath only been changed in a few external circum-
ſtances, and the enthuſiaſm, obſcurity and exuberance,
which characteriſed it when firſt introduced, continue to
be ranked among its capital and diſcriminating excel-
lencies.
To account for this phænomenon, my Lord, I need
only remind your Lordſhip of a truth which reflection
has, no doubt, frequently ſuggeſted ;- that the rules of
criticiſm are originally drawen, not from the ſpeculative
idea of perfection in an art, but from the work of that
Artiſt to whom either merit or accident hath appropri-
ated
*
3
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. XXV
ated the moſt eſtabliſhed character. From this poſition
it obviouſly follows, that ſuch an art muſt arrive at once
to its higheſt perfection, as the attempts of ſucceeding
performers are eſtimated not by their own intrinſic value
or demerit, but by their conformity to a ſtandard which
is previouſly ſet before them. It hath happened fortu-
nately for the republic of letters, that the two higher ſpe-
cies of poetry are exempted from the bad conſequences
which might have followed an exact obſervation of this
rule. An early and perfect ſtandard was ſettled to regu-
late the Epopee, and the Drama was ſuſceptible of gra-
dual improvement, as Luxury augmented the ſubjects,
and decorated the machinery of the theatre. We have
already ſeen that Lyric Poetry was not introduced with
the advantages of the former, and reflection muſt con-
vince us, that it is not calculated to gain the flow and
imperceptible acceſlions of the latter. We may obſerve
however in the general, that as the opinions of the bulk
of mankind in ſpeculative matters are commonly the reſult
of accident rather than the conſequences of reflection, ſo
it becomes extremely difficult, if not impoſſible, in ſome
inſtances to point out a defect in an eſtabliſhed model with-
out incurring the cenſure of the multitude. Such, my
Lord, is the nature of man, and ſo trifling and capri-
cious are the circumſtances upon which his ſentiments
depend.
e
Ac-
xxvi AN ESSAY ON
ON THE
Accustomed as your Lordſhip has been to ſurvey the
improved manners of an enlightned age, you will con-
template with pleaſure an happier aera in the progreſſion
of Science, when the Ode from being confined wholly to
fictitious Theology, was tranſpoſed to the circle of Ele-
gance and the Graces. Such is its appearance in the wri-
tings of Anacreon, of Horace, and in the two fragments
of Sappho.
ANACREON was nearly contemporary with that Ono-
macritus, whom we have mentioned as the Author of
thoſe
poems which are aſcribed to Orpheus. He flouriſh-
ed between the both and the 70th Olympiad. His pieces
are the offspring of genius and indolence. His ſubjects
are perfectly ſuited to his character. The devices which
he would have to be carved upon a ſilver cup are ex-
tremely ingenious.
A105 yovoy
Βακχον Ευιον ημιν.
.
Μυστιν αματε Κυπριν
Υμεναιοις κροτουσαν.
Και Ερoτας αποπλους
Και χαριτας γελωσας, &c. *
...
The race of Jove,
Bacchus whoſe happy ſmiles approve;
;
The
* Anac. Carm. p. 35
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxvii
The Cyprian Queen, whoſe gentle hand
Is quick to tye the nuptial band;
The ſporting Loves unarm'd appear,
The Graces looſe and laughing near.
Sweetness and natural elegance characteriſe the wri-
tings of this Poct, as much as careleſſneſs and eaſe diſtin-
guiſhed his manners. In ſome of his pieces there is ex-
uberance and even wildneſs of imagination, as in that par-
ticularly which is addreſſed to a young girl, where he
wiſhes alternately to be transformed into a mirror, a coat,
a ſtream, a bracelet, and a pair of ſhoes, for the different
purpoſes which he recites *. This is meer ſport and wan-
tonneſs, and the Poet would probably have excuſed him-
ſelf for it, by alledging that he took no greater liberties
in his own ſphere than his predeceſſors of the ſame pro-
fellion had done in another. His indolence and love of
eaſe is often painted with great ſimplicity and elegancet,
and his writings abound with thoſe beautiful and unex-
pected turns which are characteriſtic of every ſpecies of
the Ode I
THOUGH
* Anac. p. 87.
+ This appears remarkably in that piece, where he gives ſo ingenuous a
character of himſelf.
Ον μοι μελει Γυγαο
Του Σαρδεων Ανακλος &c.
Το σημερον μελει μοι. p. 28.
I The reader will find a ſtriking example of this beauty, in the Ode ad-
dreifed to a ſwallow, where he runs a compariſon betwixt the liberty of that
bird and his own bondage.
Συ μεν φιλη χελιδων, &c.
p.
60.
e 2
:
xxviii AN ESSAY ON THE
Though we muſt allow Anacreon to have been an ori.
ginal Genius, yet it is probable, as I formerly obſerved,
that he took Lyric Poetry as he found it; and without at-
tempting to correct imperfections, of which he might have
been ſenſible, made on the contrary the fame uſe of this
which a man of addreſs will do of the foibles of his neigh-
bour, by employing them to promote his own particular
purpoſes. We may conclude indeed from the character of
this Poet, that he was not fitted to ſtrike out new lights
in the field of Science, or to make conſiderable devia-
tions from the practice of his Predeceſſors. He was, no
doubt, of opinion likewiſe, that his manner was autho-
riſed in ſome meaſure by the example of the Mitylenian
Poeteſs, whoſe pieces are celebrated for ſoftneſs and deli-
cacy *, and who poſſeſſed above all others the art of fe-
lecting the happieſt circumſtances which ſhe placed like-
wiſe in the moſt ſtriking points of view t. Longinus pro-
duceth, as a proof of this, her fine Ode inſcribed to a
favourite attendant, in which the progreſſion of that tu-
multuous emotion, which deprived her of her ſenſes, is
deſcribed with peculiar elegance and ſenſibility I.
* Thus Horace repreſents her
Æoliis fidibus quærentem
Sappho puellis de popularibus. Lib. II. Od. 13.
+ Θεον η Σαπφω τα συμβαινουτα ταις ερωτικαις μανιαις σαθηματα εκ των παρεπο-
peavwv, xj EX Tns aandences, autrs EXQ50Te naam Eaves, &c. De Lub. c. 10.
| Longinus ſpeaks with tranſport of this beautiful fragment of antiquity.
Ου θαυμαζεις ως υπ' αυτο την ψυχην το σωμα τας ακοας την γλωσσαν τας οψεις την
WE
xoov
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxix
We are at a loſs to judge of the character of Alcæus,
the countryman and rival of Sappho, becauſe ſcarce any
fragment of his writings has reached the preſent times.
He is celebrated by the Ancients as a ſpirited Author,
whoſe
poems abounded with examples of the ſublime and
vehement. Thus Horace ſays, when comparing him to
Sappho, that he ſung ſo forcibly of wars, diſaſters, and
ſhipwrecks, that the Ghoſts ſtood ſtill to hear him in
ſilent aſtoniſhment *. The ſame Poet informs us, that
he likewiſe ſung of Bacchus, Venus, the Muſes, and Cu-
pid t. From theſe ſketches of his character we may con-
clude that his pieces were diſtinguiſhed by thoſe marks
of rapid and uncontrouled imagination, which we have
found to characteriſe the works of the firſt Lyric Poets.
Your Lordſhip needs not be told, that the Roman
Poet who had the advantage of improving upon fo
many
originals, takes in a greater variety of ſubjects than any
of
his
*
χροαν, σανθ' ως αλλοτρια διοιχομενα επιζητει. Και καθ' υπεναντιωσεις αμα ψυχεται,
καιεται, αλογισει, Φρονει---να μη εν τι περι αυτην παθος φαινεται, παθων δε ΣΥΝΟ-
AOE. De Lub. C. 10.
* Te fonantem plenius aureo
Alcee pleEtro, dura navis,
Dura fuga mala, dura belli.
Utrumque facro digna filentio
Mirantur Umbræ dicere.Hor. ub. ſup.
+ Liberum & Mufas, Veneremque & illi
Semper bærentem puerum canebat,
Et Lycum nigris oculis nigroque
Crine decorum. Carm. Lib. I. Od. 32.
$
XXX
AN ESSAY ON THE
his predeceſſors, and runs into more diffuſe and diverſi-
fied meaſure. I have ſaid, my Lord, that his ſubjects
are more diverſified, becauſe in the character of a Lyric
Poet we muſt conſider him as a profeſſed imitator both
of Anacreon and of Pindar. In the former point of view
he falls under our immediate cogniſance; in the latter:
we ſhall take a view of him afterwards, when we come
to examine the works of that great Original, whoſe ex-
ample he follows.
The Reader will obſerve, that in the ſhorter Odes of
Horace there is commonly one leading thought, which is
finely enlivened with the graces of deſcription. A con-
ſtant Unity of ſentiment is therefore preſerved in each of
them, and the abrupt ſtarts and fallies of paſſion are ſo
artfully interwoven with the principal ſubject, that upon
a review of the whole piece, we find it to be a perfect
imitation of Nature. This Poet (whoſe judgment appears
to have been cqual to his imagination) is particularly care-
ful to obſerve propriety in his moſt irregular excurſions,
and the vivacity of his paſſion is juſtified by the circum-
ſtances in which he is ſuppoſed to be placed. The dic-
tion of theſe poems is likewiſe adapted with great accu-
racy to the ſentiment, as it is generally conciſe, forcible,
and expreſſive. Brevity of language ought indeed parti-
cularly to characteriſe this ſpecies of the Ode, in which
the Poet writes from immediate feeling, and is intenſely
ani-
4
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxxi
animated by his ſubject. Delicacy is likewiſe indiſpen-
fibly requiſite, becauſe the reader is apt to be diſguſted
with the leaſt appearance of conſtraint or harſhneſs in a
poem, whoſe principal excellence lies in the happy and
elegant turn of a pointed reflection. In ſhort, little fal-
lies and pictureſque epithets have a fine effect in pieces.
of this kind, as by the former the paſſions are forcibly
inflamed, and by the latter their effects are feelingly ex-
poſed.
Of all theſe delicate beauties of compoſition, the Odes
of Horace abound with pregnant and ſtriking examples.
Sometimes he diſcovers the ſtrength of his paſſion, when
he is endeavouring to forget it, by a ſudden and lively
turn which is wholly unexpected. Thus he tells Lydia,
Non ſi me fatis audias,
Speres perpetuum dulcia barbare
Ledentem ofcula, quæ Venus
Quinta parte ſui neitaris imbuit *
Sometimes his pictures are heightned with beautiful
imagery, and he ſeizeth the imagination before he appeals
to reaſon. 'Thus, when he is adviſing his friend not to
mourn any longer for a man who was dead, inſtead of
propoſing the ſubject immediately he ſays,
Non
1
* Carin. Lib. I. Od. 13.
xxxii
AN ESSAY ON THE
Non ſemper imbres nubibus bifpidos
Manant in
agros,
Not always ſnow, and hail, and rain
Deſcend, and beat the fruitful plain. CREECH.
&c.*
On other occaſions he breaks abruptly into a ſhort and
fpirited tranſition.
Auditis ? an me ludit amabilis
Inſania ? audire et videor pios
Errare per lucos, amoena
Quos et aquæ fubeunt et auræ t.
Dos't hear? or ſporting in my brain,
What wildly-ſweet deliriums reign!
Lo! mid Elyſium's balmy groves,
Each happy ſhade tranſported roves !
I ſee the living ſcene diſplay'd,
Where rills and breathing gales ſigh murmuring thro' the ſhade.
On ſome ſubjects he is led imperceptibly into a ſoft
melancholy, which peculiar elegance of expreſſion ren-
ders extremely agreeable in the end of this poem. There
is a fine ſtroke of this kind in his Ode to Septimius, with
whom he was going to fight againſt the Cantabrians.
He figures out a poetical receſs for his old age, and then
fays,
Ilic
* Carm. Lib. II. Od.
9.
+ Id. Lib. III. Od. 4.
4
LYRIC POETRY of the ANCIENTS. xxxiii
Ille te mecum locus, et beatæ
Poſtulant arces, ibi tu calentem
Debita ſparges lachryma favillain
Vatis amici *.
That happy place, that ſweet retreat,
The charming hills that round it riſe,
Your lateſt hours, and mine await;
And when your Poet Horace dyes ;
There the deep figh thy poet-friend ſhall mourn,
And pious tears bedew his glowing urn.
FRANCIS.
Upon the whole, my Lord, you will perhaps be of
opinion, that though the ſubjects of this ſecond ſpecies
of the Ode are wholly different from theſe of the firſt;
yet the ſame variety of images, boldneſs of tranſition,
figured diction, and rich colouring which characteriſed
this branch of poetry on its original introduction, conti-
nue to be uniformly and invariably remarkable in the
works of ſucceeding performers. Reflection indeed will
induce us to acknowledge, that in this branch of Lyric
Poetry the Author may be allowed to take greater liber-
ties than we could permit him to do in that which has
formerly been mentioned. It is the natural effect of
any
paſſion by which the mind is agitated, to break out into
ſhort and abrupt fallies which are expreſſive of its impe-
tuoſity, and of an imagination heated, and ſtarting in the
f
!
tu-
* Carm. Lib. II. Od. 6.
xxxiv AN N
THE
ESSAY ON
tumult of thought from one object to another. To fol-
low therefore the workings of the mind in ſuch a ſitua-
tion and to paint them happily, is in other words to copy
Nature. But your Lordſhip will obſerve, that the tran-
ſitions of the Poet who breaks from his ſubject to exhibit
an hiſtorical detail whoſe connection with it is remote, or
who is ſolicitous to diſplay the fertility of a rich imagina-
tion at the expence of perſpicuity, when it is not ſuppoſed
that his paſſions are inflamed: you will obſerve, my
Lord, that his digreſſions are by no means fo excuſable
as thoſe of the other, becauſe obſcurity in the latter may
be an excellence, whereas in the former it is always a
blemiſh.
It is only neceſſary to obſerve farther on this head,
that the difference of the ſubjects treated by Anacreon
and Horace, from thoſe of Orpheus, Muſeus, &c. is ow-
ing to the different characters of the ages in which they
lived. We could not indeed have expected to meet with
any thing very ſerious, at any period, froin fo indolent
and careleſs a writer as Anacreon. But Luxury even in
his time had made conſiderable progreſs in the world.
The principles of Theology were ſufficiently well eſtabliſh-
ed. Civil polity had ſucceeded to a ſtate of confuſion,
and men were become fond of eaſe and affluence, of wine
and women. Anacreon lived at the court of a volup-
tuous Monarch *, and had nothing to divert his mind from
* Polycrates, Tyrant of Samos.
the
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. XXXV
the purſuit of happineſs in his own way. His Odes there-
fore are of that kind, in which the gentler Graces pecu-
liarly predominate. Sappho and Horace were employed
in the ſaine manner. The Lady had a Gallant, of whom
it
appears
that ſhe was extremely fond, and the Roman
Poet lived in a polite court, was patronized by a man of
diſtinguiſhed eminence, and was left at full liberty to
purſue that courſe of life to which he was moſt power-
fully prompted by inclination.
The poetic vein in theſe Writers takes that turn, which
a ſtranger muſt have expected upon hearing their cha-
racters. Their pieces are gay, entertaining, looſe, ele-
gant, and ornamented with a rich profuſion of the graces
of deſcription. The reader of ſenſibility will receive the
higheſt pleaſure from peruſing their works, in which the
internal movements of the mind warmed by imagination,
or agitated by paſſion, are expoſed in the happieſt and
moſt agreeable attitudes. This, perhaps, is the principal
excellence of the looſer branches of poetic compoſition.
The mind of the Poet in theſe pieces is ſuppoſed to be
intenſely kindled by his ſubject. His Fancy aſſumes the
rein, and the operation of reaſon is for a moment ſuf-
pended. He follows the impulſe of enthuſiaſm, and
throws off thoſe ſimple but lively ſtrokes of Nature and
Paſſion, which can only be felt, and are beyond imita-
tion.
f 2
1
Ut
xxxvi AN ESSAY ON
T HE
Ut fibi quivis
Speret idem, fudet multum, fruftraque laboret
Auliis idem *!
All may hope to imitate with eaſe:
Yet while they ſtrive the ſame ſucceſs to gain,
Shall find their labour and their hopes are vain. FRANCI6.
.
The unequal meaſures which are uſed in theſe ſhorter
Odes, are likewiſe adapted with great propriety to the
ſubjects of which they treat. Horace ſays, that this in-
equality of numbers was originally fixed upon as expreſ-
ſive of the complaints of a lover ; but he adds, that they
became quickly expreſſive likewiſe of his exultation.
Verſibus impariter junetis Querimonia primum
Poſt etiam incluſa eſt voti ſententia composta
Unequal meaſures firſt were taught to flow,
Sadly expreſſive of the Lover's woe.
These looſer and ſhorter meaſures diſtinguiſh this
branch of the Ode from the Hymn which was compoſed
in heroic meaſure I, and from the Pindaric Ode (as it is
commonly called) to which the dithyrambique or more
diverſified ſtanza was particularly appropriated. Of the
ſhorter Ode therefore it may be ſaid with propriety,
S012
* Hor. de Art. Poet.
+ Id. ibid.
† Ariſtotle expreſsly mentions this circumſtance, when he explains the
Origin of the Dranma. Παραφανεισας δε της Τραγωδίας και Κωμωδίας, , οι εφ εκα-
τερον τη ποιησεν αρμωντες κατα την οικειαν φυσιν οι μεν αντι των Ιαμβων, Κωμωδοποιοι
εγενοντο οι δε αντι των Επων τραγωδιδασκαλοι, δια τω μειζω και ενημοτερα τα χηματα
Ariſt. Poet. C. 4.
fHQI TAUTĄ EXEINWY.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxxvii
Son ſtile impetueux foutent marche au bazarde
Chez un beau difordre cft in offict de l'art *
Thus, my Lord, we have taken a view of the Lyric
Poetry of the Ancients, as it appeared originally in the
works of the earlieſt Poets, and as it was afterwards em-
ployed to cnliven a train of more elegant and delicate ſen-
timcnt. I have attempted, in the courſe of this enquiry,
to follow the lights which Antiquity throws on this ſub-
jećt as cloſely as poſſible, to explain facts by placing them
in connection, and to illuſtrate reaſoning by example.
Your Lordſhip's acquaintance with the principles of
civil Government, and your experience of the effects of
education have enabled you to obſerve the chara&ter,
which the Manners of an age ſtamp upon the produc-
tions of the Authors who live in it. Experience will
convince us, that theſe general revolutions reſemble more
nearly than we are apt to imagine at firſt view, the cir-
cumſtances of an Individual at the different periods of life.
In one age he is captivated by the beauties of deſcription,
at another he is fond of the deductions of Philoſophy ;
his opinions vary with his years, and his actions, as di-
rected by theſe, are proportionably diverſified. In all
theſe circumſtances however, the original bias which he
received from Nature remains unalterable, and the pecu-
liarity of his character appears conſpicuous, notwith-
ſtanding
:
Boil. Art. Poet.
xxxviii AN ESSAY ON
THE
ftanding the accidental diverſity of fluctuating ſentiments.
It is to be expected in ſuch a ſituation, that changes fi-
milar to theſe will uſually take place in arts which are ſuf-
ceptible of perpetual mutation; and of this a particular
inſtance is exhibited in the preceding detail. Another
branch of this ſubject remains to be conſidered, and on
this I ſhall give your Lordſhip the trouble of peruſing a
few remarks in a ſubſequent letter. Permit me only to
obſerve, from what hath already been advanced, that the
ingredients of Genius are often beſtowed by Nature, when
the poliſh of Art is wanted to mould the original mate-
rials into elegant proportion. He who poſſeffeth the
former in the higheſt degree may be a Shakeſpear or an
Æſchylus ; but both were united in forming the more
perfect characters of Demoſthenes and Homer.
L E T
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xxxix
L E T T E R
II.
TI
HE view, my Lord, of the Lyric Poetry of the
Ancients which has been taken in the preceding
part of this Eſſay, may probably have ſuggeſted a Que-
ſtion to your Lordſhip, to which it is neceſſary that an
anſwer ſhould be given, before I enter upon that part of
the ſubject which remains to be conſidered. From the
obſervations formerly made, I am afraid that
your Lord
ſhip has been looking upon my procedure, as you would
have viewed that of the honeſt Iriſhman, who pulled an
old houſe about his ears, before he had reflected that it
was neceſſary to ſubſtitute a better in its room. In the
fame manner you will perhaps think, that I have taken
a good deal of pains to point out the Defeats of Lyric
Poetry, and to aſſign the Cauſes which originally pro-
duced them; without however eſtabliſhing the rules of
this branch of the Art, and without enquiring what
pro-
portion of poetic embelliſhment naturally belongs to it,
conſidered as diſtinguifhed from every other ſpecies.
PER-
2
xl
AN ESSAY ON
THE
Permit me therefore to obſerve, that my intention in
the preceding remarks will be greatly miſtaken, if, when
I have been endeavouring to expoſe the abuſe of imagi-
nation, it ſhould be thought, either that I would wholly
repreſs the excurſions of this noble Faculty, or that I
would confine its exerciſe within narrow limits. It muſt
be obvious to every perſon who reflects on this ſubject,
that Imagination preſides over every branch of the Poetic
Art, and that a certain infuſion of her peculiar beauties
is neceffry to conſtitute its real and eſſential character.
The Peet therefore of cvery denomination may be ſaid
with great propriety in an higher ſenſe than the Orator,
to paint to the eyes, and touch the ſoul, and combat
“ with ſhining arms*.” It is from this conſideration that
Horace ſays, ſpeaking of Poetry in general,
66 to
Deſcriptas fervare vices, operumque colores,
Cur ego fi nequeo ignoroque, Poeta ſalutor of?
Though the influence of imagination on every ſpe-
cies of Poetry is ſo obvious, as not to ſtand in need of il-
luſtration, yet we muſt obſerve at the ſame time, that
this
2
* Les grands Orateurs n'emploient que des expreſſions riches capables de
faire valoir leurs raiſons. Ils tachent d'eblouir les yeux, eç l'eſprit, et pour
ce ſujet ils ne combattent qu'avec des armes brillantes. Lam. Rhet. Liv.
IV. c. 13.
+ Hor. de Arte Poet.
2
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xli
this power is exerted in different degrees *, as the Poet is
led by the nature of that ſubject to which his Genius hath
received the moſt remarkable bias. Thus the ſimple
beauties of the Eclogue would appear in the ſame light,
when tranſpoſed to the Epopee, as plants brought to
forced vegetation in a Green-houſe muſt do to thoſe who
have ſeen them flouriſhing in their native foil, and ripened
by the benignity of an happier climate. In the one caſe
they are conſidered as unnatural productions, whoſe
beauty is ſurpaſſed by the Natives of the ſoil; in the other
they are regarded as juſt and decent ornaments, whoſe
real excellence is properly eſtimated. The ſame remark
may be applied indiſcriminately to all the other branches
of this art. Though they are originally the offspring of
one Parent, yet there are certain characteriſtic marks, by
which a general reſemblance is fully diſtinguiſhed from
perfect fimilarity.
It is neceſſary to obſerve in general on this ſubject,
that whatever degree of ſuperiority the reaſoning Faculty
ought ultimately to poffefs in the ſphere of Compofition,
we are not to conſider this Power as acting the ſame part
in the work of a Poet, which it ſhould always act in that
of a Philoſopher. In the performance of the latter, an ap-
peal to reaſon is formally ſtated, and is carried on by the
g
pro-
* Una cuique propoſita lex, ſuus decor eft. Habet tamen omnis Elo-
quentia aliquid conmune. Quintil. Inftit. Lib. X. c. 11.
xlii
AN ESSAY ON THE
proceſs of connected argumentation; whereas in that of
the former the Judgment is principally employed in the
diſpoſition of materials *. Thus the Philoſopher and
the Poet are equally entitled to the character of judici-
ous, when the arguments of the one are juſt and conclu-
ſive, and when the images of the other are appoſite and
natural.
WHEN
* In the Epopee we judge of the Genius of the Poer, by the variety and
excellence of thoſe materials with which Imagination enricheth his ſubject.
His Judgment appears in the diſpoſition of particular images, and in the
general relation which every ſubordinate part bears to the principal action
of the Poem. Thus it is the buſineſs of this Faculty, as an ingenious Cria
tic ſays, “ Conſiderer comme un corps qui ne devoit pas avoir des membres
“ de natures differentes, et independens les uns des autres.” Boffu du Poem.
Epiq. Liv. II. ch. 2. It is true indeed, that Tragedy is rather an addreſs
to the paſſions than to the imagination of mankind. To the latter however
we muſt refer all thoſe finer ſtrokes of poetic painting, which aduate ſo
forcibly the affections and the heart. We may, in ſhort, eaſily conceive the
importance of a warm imagination to the Dramatic Poet, by reflecting upon
the coldneſs and indifference with which we peruſe thoſe pieces, which are
not enlivened by the fallies of this Faculty when it is properly corrected.
Though we muſt acknowledge that Paſſion ſeldom adopts the images of
deſcription, yet it muſt be owned at the ſame time, that neither can a per-
ſon who wants imagination feel with fenfibility the impulſe of the Paſſions.
A Poet may even merit a great encomium who excels in painting the ef-
fects, and in copying the language of Paſſion, though the Diſpoſition of
his work may be otherwiſe irregular and faulty. Thus Ariſtotle fays of a
celebrated dramatic Poet, Και Ο Ευριπιδης ει και τα αλλα μη ευ οικονομει, αλλα
ΤΡΑΓΙΚΩΤΑΤΟΣ γε των Ποιητων φαινεται. De Poet. C, 13. Upon the whole
therefore, Didactic or Ethical Poetry is the only ſpecies in which Imagina-
tion acts but a ſecondary part, becauſe it is unqueſtionably the buſineſs of
reaſon to fix upon the moſt forcible arguments, as well as to throw them
into the happieſt diſpoſition. We have ſeen however, in ſome late perform-
ances, what ſuperior advantages this branch of the Art receives from a juſt
and proper infuſion of the poetic idioms.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xliii
When your Lordſhip reflects on the Nature and End
of Lyric Poetry, it will appear to be at leaſt as much
characteriſed by the Graces of ornament as any other ſpe-
cies whatever. We have already ſeen that the Ode was
early conſecrated to the purpoſes of Religion, and that it
was intended to raiſe Admiration by extolling the attri-
butes of the Supreme Being. On a ſubject of this nature
the Poet probably thought, that ſublime and exuberant
imagery was neceſſary to ſupport the grandeur of thoſe
ſentiments which were naturally ſuggeſted to his mind *
Even when theſe original topics were laid aſide, and the
Lyric Muſe acted in another ſphere, her ſtrains were ſtill
employed, either to commemorate the actions of Deified
Heroes, or to record the exploits of perſons whom rank
and abilities rendered eminently conſpicuous.
All theſe ſubjects afford a noble field for the play of
imagination, and it is a certain truth that the purity of
compoſition is generally defective, in proportion to that
degree of fublimity at which the Poet is capable of ar-
riving t. Great objects are apt to confound and dazzle
g 2
the
* For this reaſon, fays an ingenious and learned Critic, L'Ode monte
dans les Cieux, pour y emprunter ſes images et les comparaiſons du ton-
nerre, des altres, et des Dieux memes, &c. Reflex. Crit. Vol. I. Sect.33.
+ Εγω δε οιδα μεν ως αι υπερβολαι μεγεθες φυσαι ήκισα καθαραι. Το γαρ εν σαντι
ακριβες, κινδυνος σμικροτητος" εν δε τοις μεγεθεσιν ωσπερ εν τοις αγαν σλατους, είναι
τι χρη και παραλιγωρουμενον. . Μη ποτε ηδε τοτο και αναγκαιον τ, το τας μεν ταπει ας
και μεσας φυσεις για το μηδαμη σαρακινδυνευειν μηδε εφιεσθαι των ακρων, αναμαρτητες
W5 ETI TO SAN x 0.6D2A85€fas di xeper. Longin. de Sublim. Sect. 33.
xliv
AN ESSAY
ON THE
the imagination. In proportion as this faculty expands
to take them in, its power of conceiving them diſtinctly
becomes leſs adequate to the ſubject; and when the mind
is overwrought and drained as it were of ſentiment, it is
no wonder that we find it ſometimes attempting to repair
this loſs, by ſubſtituting in the room of true fublimity
an affected
pomp and exuberance of expreſſion.
That we may conceive more fully the propriety of
this obſervation with regard to Lyric Poetry, I ſhall now
proceed to enquire what part Imagination naturally claims
in the compoſition of the Ode, and what are the errors
into which the Poet is moſt ready to be betrayed.
As to the firſt, I need not tell your Lordſhip, that
whatever Art propoſeth as an ultimate end to excite Ad-
miration, muſt owe its principal excellence to that Fa-
culty of the mind which delights to contemplate the ſub-
lime and the wonderful. This indeed may be called the
ſphere, in which Imagination peculiarly predominates.
When we attempt, even in the courſe of converſation, to
paint any object whoſe magnificence hath made a ſtrong
impreſſion upon the memory, we naturally adopt the
boldeſt and moſt forcible epithets we can think of, to
convey our own idea as compleatly as poſſible to the mind
of another. We are prompted by a powerful propenſity
to retouch our deſcription again and again, we ſelect the
moſt appoſite images to animate our expreſſion; in ſhort,
we
4
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS.
xlv
not
we fall, without perceiving it, into the ſtile and figures
of poetry. If then Admiration produceth ſuch an effect
upon
the mind in the more common occurrences of life,
we may conceive the ſuperior influence which it muſt
have upon the imagination of
the imagination of a Poet, when it is wound
up to the higheſt pitch, and is placing a great object in
every point of light by which its excellence may moſt
conſpicuouſly appear. It will at leaſt be obvious, that
in ſuch a ſituation the feelings of the heart muſt be more
intenſely animated than in any other, not only becauſe
Genius is ſuppoſed to be the Parent of Senſibility, but as
the perſon who is poſſeſſed of this quality exerts the
full force of his talents and art to produce one particular
effect. He endeavours (as Longinus expreſſeth it)
to be ſeen himſelf, but to place the idea which he hath
“ formed before the very
very eye
of another *."
It is a common miſtake among people who have not
examined this ſubject, to ſuppoſe that a Poet may with
greater eafe excite Admiration when his theme is ſub-
lime, than when it is ſuch as we have been more ac-
cuſtomed to contemplate it. This opinion is indeed
plauſible at the firſt view, becauſe it may be ſaid that
we
* De Sublim. Sect. 32.
+ The reader will obſerve, that Admiration through the whole of this
part of the Eſſay is taken in the largeſt ſenſe, as including a conſiderable
degree of wonder, which is however a diſtinct feeling. The former is ex-
cited principally by the ſublime; the fatter by the new and uncommon.
Theſe feelings are united, when a ſubject of moderate dignity is treated in
ſublime manner. See the Eſſay, p. 47, 48.
>>
xivi
AN ESSAY ON
THE
we go half-way to meet that Author, who propoſeth to
reach an end by means which have an apparent probabi-
lity to effectuate it; but it will appear upon reflection,
that this very circumſtance, inſtead of being ſerviceable,
is in reality detrimental to the Poèt.
ADMIRATION is a paſſion which can never be excited
in any perſon, unleſs when there is ſomething great and
aſtoniſhing, either in the general diſpoſition of a work or
in ſome of the ſeparate members of which it is formed.
Thus we admire a whole piece, when we obſerve that the
parts which compoſe it are placed in a ſtriking and un-
common combination, and we even conſider one happy
ſtroke as an indication of genius in the Artiſt. It fre-
quently happens that the ſubject of a Poem is of ſuch a
nature, as that its moſt eſſential members cannot be ſet in
any light diſtinct from that in which cuſtom and expe-
rience has led us to conſider them. Thus when the Poet
addreſſed an Hymn to Jupiter, Diana, or Apollo, he
could not be ignorant that his readers were well appriſed
of the general manner, in which it was neceffary to treat
of theſe Perſonages, and that they would have been of-
fended, if he had preſumed to differ in any material point
from the opinions handed down by traditionary evidence.
It was therefore neceſſary, that the Poet ſhould manage
a ſubject of this kind in the ſame manner as Rubens and
Caypel have painted the Crucifixion, by either varying
the
4
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xlvii
the attitude of the principal object to make it more ſub-
lime and admirable, or by rendering ſome inferior figure
pictureſque and animated which had eſcaped the notice
of his Predeceſſors. When therefore a ſublime object is
not ſhown in ſome great and uncommon point of view,
the Poet ſinks in our eſteem as much as he would have
riſen in it, if we had found his Genius equal to his Am-
bition.
As I have already borrowed one illuſtration from
painting, permit me to recall to your Lordſhip's memory,
that noble figure by which the Church of Rome permit-
ted Raphael to repreſent the Eternal Father, a figure
which has always been conſidered as one of the greateſt
ornaments of the galleries of the Vatican * Any perſon
may conclude that the difficulty of ſucceeding in this
great attempt, muſt have bore ſome proportion to the te-
merity (ſhall we call it) of venturing to deſign it. If this
celebrated Artiſt had failed of throwing into that figure
an Air wholly extraordinary, his Deſign would either
have been conſidered as raſh, or his imagination cenſured
as deficient.
On the contrary, the Poet who chuſeth a more unpro-
miſing ſubject, and diſplays an unexpected fertility of in-
vention
* Raphael is ſaid to have ſtolen the expreſfion of this figure from Mi-
chael Angelo, who was at work on the ſame ſubject in another part of the
We are indebted for this curious anecdote to the ingenious Abbe
du Bos. See his Reflex. Crit. fur la Poeſ. et la Peint. Vol. II.
Vatican.
xlviii AN ESSAY
ON THE
vention in his manner of treating it, is admired as an
Original Genius, and the peruſal of his work excites in
our mind the moſt agreeable mixture of ſurprize and
pleaſure.
It muſt immediately occur to any reader who peruſeth
the Hymn of Callimachus to Jupiter, that the ſubject
was too great to be properly managed by the correct and
elegant genius of that writer. Inſtead of enlarging (as
we ſhould have naturally expected) on any particular per-
fection of this Supreme Deity, or even of enumerating in
a poetical manner the attributes which were commonly
aſcribed to Him, he entertains us coldly with traditionary
ſtories about His birth and education; and the ſublime
part of his ſubject is either wholly omitted, or ſuperfici-
ally paſſed over. Thus ſpeaking of the bird of Jove, he
ſays only,
Θηκαο δ' οιωνον μεγ' υπειροχον αγγελεωτης,
Σων τεραων ατ' εμοισι φιλοις ενδεξια φαινοις
Thy bird, celeſtial meſſenger, who bears
Thy mandate thro' the ſky;-0 be his flight
Propitious to my friends!
Pindar introduceth this King of the feathered race in
a much nobler and more animated manner. He exhibits
with true poetic enthuſiaſm, as an inſtance of the power
of harmony, the following vivid picture.
*
* Callim. Hymn. in Jov, a lin. 68.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. xlix
ευ-
ο δε κν
* .
δει ανα σκαπω Διoς αιετος, ω-
κειαν στερυγ αμφοτερω-
θεν χαλαξεις,
Αρχ. αιωνων
κνωσσων
υγρον νωτον αιωρεί, τεαις
ρεπαισι κατασχόμενος
The birds fierce Monarch drops his vengeful ire;
Perch'd on the ſceptre of th' Olympian King,
The thrilling darts of harmony he feels,
And indolently hangs his rapid wing,
While gentle ſeep his cloſing eye-lids feals ;
And o'er his heaving limbs, in looſe array
To every balmy gale the ruffling feathers play. WEST. .
Homer never touches this ſublime ſubject, without
employing the utmoſt reach of his invention to excite
admiration in his reader.
Ζευς δε Πατηρ ιδηθεν ευτροχον αρμα και ιππους
Ολυμπονδ' εδιωκε, θεων δ' εξεκετο θωκες.
Τω δε και ιππες μεν λυσε κλυτος Εννοσιγαιο.
Αρματα δ' αμβρωμοισι τιθει, κατα λιτα σετασσας.
Αυτος δε
χρυσειον επι θρωνον ευρυοπα Ζευς
Εζετο, τω δε υπο σοσσι μεγας σελεμιζετ’ Ολυμπο ή.
-The Thund'rer meditates his flight
From Ida's fummits to th’ Olympian height.
Swifter than thought the wheels inſtinctive fly,
Flame thro' the vaſt of air, and reach the ſky.
1.
'Twas
:
*
+
* Pind. Pyth. I.
* Iliad. Lib. VIII.
AN ESSAY ON
THE
'Twas Neptune's charge his courſers to unbrace,
And fix the car on its immortal baſe ; &c.
He whoſe all-conſcious eyes the world behold,
Th’cternal Thunderer, fate thron'd in gold.
High heav'n the footſtool of his feet He makes,
And wide beneath him all Olympus ſhakes. Pope.
I have mentioned theſe examples, as they ſhew the
light in which a great object will be contemplated by a
man of genius; and as the reader will obſerve that our
admiration is not merely excited by the dignity of the
theme, but that it reſults from the great and uncommon
circumſtances which are happily thrown into the deſcrip-
tion. Pindar, no doubt, found it a much eaſier taſk to
raiſe this paſſion in favour of Theron, whom he artfully
introduceth to the reader's attention, after enquiring of
his Muſe what God or what diſtinguiſhed Heroe he
ſhould attempt to celebrate *.
Ir
* This is one of the moſt artful and beſt conducted of Pindar's Odes.
The introduction is abrupt and ſpirited, and the Heroe of the Poem is ſhown
to great advantage.
Αναξιφορμιγγες υμνοι
τιυα θεον, τιν' ηρος,
τινα δ' ανδρα κελαδησομεν ;
ητοι σισα μεν Διος" *
Ολυμπιαδα δ' εςα-
σεν Ηρακλεης, &c.
Θηρωνα δε τετραοριας
ενεκα νεκαφορου
γεγωνητεον οπε, &c. Pind. Olym. 2da.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. li
It is however obvious, from what hath been advanced
on this ſubject, that whatever may be the nature of the
theme on which the Poet inſiſts, it is the buſineſs of
Fancy to enliven the whole piece with thoſe natural and
animating graces which lead us to ſurvey it with admi-
ration. From the whole therefore it appears, that this
Faculty of the mind claims an higher ſhare of merit in
the compoſition of the Ode than in any other ſpecies of
Poetry ; becauſe in the other branches of this art different
ends
may be obtained, and different expedients may be
fallen upon to gain them; but the moſt perfect kind of
Lyric Poetry admits only of that end, to the attainment of
which fertility of Imagination is indiſpenſably requiſite.
You will recollect, my Lord, a poſition laid down in
the beginning of this Effay ; – that “ when Imagination
" is permitted to beſtow the graces of ornament indiſcri-
minately, ſentiments are either ſuperficial, and thinly
“ ſcattered through a work, or we are obliged to ſearch
“ for them beneath a load of ſuperfluous colouring." I
ſhall now endeavour to evince the truth of this reflection,
by enquiring more particularly what are the faults into
which the Lyric Poet is moſt ready to be betrayed, by
giving a looſe rein to that Faculty which colours and en-
livens his compoſition.
It may be obſerved then in general, that we uſually
judge of the Genius of a Lyric Poet by the variety of his
images,
:
h 2
lii
AN
ESSAY ON THE
images, the boldneſs of his tranſitions, and the pictureſque
vivacity of his deſcriptions. I ſhall under this head trou-
ble your Lordſhip with a few reflections on each of theſe
conſidered ſeparately.
By the Images which are employed in the Ode, I mean
thoſe illuſtrations borrowed from natural and often from
familiar objects, by which the Poet either clears up an
obſcurity, or arreſts the attention, and kindles the ima-
gination of his reader. Theſe illuſtrations have
very
di-
ſtinct uſes in the different ſpecies of poetic compoſition.
The greateſt Maſters in the Epopee often introduce me-
taphors, which have only a general relation to the ſub-
ject; and by purſuing theſe through a variety of circum-
ſtances, they diſengage the reader's attention from the
principal object. This indeed often becomes neceſſary in
pieces of length, when attention begins to relax by fol-
lowing too cloſely one particular train of ideas. It re-
quires however great judgment in the Poet to purſue this
courſe with approbation, as he muſt not only fix upon
metaphors which in ſome points have a ſtriking ſimilarity
to the object illuſtrated, but even the digreſſive circum-
ſtances muſt be ſo connected with it, as to exhibit a fuc-
ceſſion of ſentiments which reſemble, at leaſt remotely,
the ſubject of his Poem *. It muſt be obvious, at firſt
view,
i The reader will meet with many examples of this liberty in the Iliad,
tome of which Mr. Pope lias judiciouſly ſelected in the notes of his tranſla-
tion,
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS.
liii
view, that as the Lyric Poet cannot adopt this plea, his
metaphors will always have the happieſt effect, when
they correſpond to the object in ſuch a manner, as to
ſhew its compleat proportions in the fulleſt point of view,
without including foreign and unappropriated epithets.
This however is not the courſe which a Writer of imagi-
nation will naturally follow, unleſs his judgment reſtrains
the excurſions of that excentric faculty. He will, on the
contrary, catch with eagerneſs every image which Fancy
enlivens with the richeſt colouring, and he will contem-
plate the external beauty of his metaphor, rather than
conſider the propriety with which it is applied as an il-
luſtration. It is probably owing to this want of juſt at-
tention to propriety, that the firſt Lyric Poets have left
ſuch imperfect ſtandards to the imitation of pofterity.
When we examine the works of later Poets
among
the
Ancients, we find that even thoſc of them who are moſt
exceptionable in other circumſtances, have yet in a great
meaſure corrected this miſtake of their predeceſſors. In
the lyric Odes of Euripides and Sophocles, the metaphors
made uſe of are generally ſhort, expreſſive, and fitted to
cor-
tion. Milton, in the ſame ſpirit, compares Satan lying on the lake of fire,
to a Leviathan Numbering on the coaſt of Norway, and inimediately di-
grefling from the ſtrict points of connection, he adds, “ that the mariners
" often miſtake him for an iſland, and caſt anchor on his ſide." Par. Lolt,
B. II. In this illuſtration it is obvious, that though the Poet deviates from
clofe imitation, yet he ſtill keeps in view the general end of his ſubject,
which is to exhibit a picture of the fallen Arch-angel. See Par. Loft, B.I.
4
liv
AN ESSAY ON
THE
correſpond with great accuracy to the point which re-
quires to be illuſtrated *
Pindar is in many inſtances
equally happy in the choice of his images, which are fre-
quently introduced with addreſs, and produce a very
ſtriking effect t.
It is likewiſe neceſſary that the Poet ſhould take care
in the higher ſpecies of the Ode, to aſſign to every object
that preciſe degree of colour, as well as that importance
in the arrangement of ſentiments which it ſeems peculi-
arly to demand. The ſame images which would be con-
ſidered as capital ſtrokes in ſome pieces can be admitted
only as ſecondary beauties in others; and we might call
in queſtion both the judgment and the imagination of
that Poet who attempts to render a faint illuſtration ad-
equate to the object, by clothing it with profuſion of or-
nament.
* The reader may conſider, as an example, of the following verſes of the
Ode of Sophocles to the Sun.
Πολλα γαρ ως’ ακαμαντος
η Νωτου η Βορεα τις
tufe STO ELPED WOVTW
βαντ' επιουτα τ' ιδοι
ουτο δε τον καδμογευη
τρεφει: το δ' αυξει βιοτου
πολυπονον ωςε μελαγος
xencio Soph. Trachin.
† Of this the reader will find a noble inſtance in Pindar's firſt Pythian
Ode, where he employs from the verſe beginning vxuos poenixis d'adpoota, &c.
to the end of the ſtanza, one of the happieſt and moſt natural illuſtrations
that is to be met with either in the works of Pindar, or in thoſe of any Poet
whatever. The abrupt addreſs to Phæbus, when he applies the metaphor,
is peculiarly beautitul.
4
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. lv
nament. A defect likewiſe either in the choice, or in the
diſpoſition, of images, is conſpicuous in proportion to the
importance of the ſubject, as well as to the nature of thoſe
ſentiments with which it ſtands in more immediate con-
nection. It is therefore the buſineſs of the Lyric Poet,
who would avoid the cenſure of compoſing with inequa-
lity, to conſider the colouring of which particular ideas
are naturally ſuſceptible, and to diſcriminate properly be-
twixt ſentiments, whoſe native ſublimity requires but lit-
tle aſſiſtance from the pencil of art, and a train of thought
which (that it may correſpond to the former) demands
the heightening of poetic painting. The aſtoniſhing in-
equalities which we meet with, even in the productions
of unqueſtioned Genius, are originally to be deduced
from the careleſſneſs of the Poet who permitted his ima-
gination to be hurried from one object to another, dwel-
ling with pleaſure upon a favourite idea, and paſſing
ſlightly over intermediate ſteps, that he
that he may catch that
beauty which Auctuates on the gaze of Expectation.
I shall only obſerve further on this ſubject, that no-
thing is more contrary to the end of Lyric Poetry, than
that habit of ſpinning out a metaphor which a Poet ſome-
times falls into by indulging the fallies of imagination.
This will be obvious, when we reflect that every branch
of the Ode is characteriſed by a peculiar degree of viva-
city and even vehemence both of ſentiment and expref-
fion.
lvi
AN ESSAY
ON THE
ſion. It is impoſſible to preſerve this diſtinguiſhing cha-
racter, unleſs the thoughts are diverſified, and the diction
is conciſe. When a metaphor is hunted down (if I may
uſe that expreſſion) and a deſcription overwrought, its
force and energy are gradually leſſened, the object which
was originally new becomes familiar, and the mind is fa-
tiated inſtead of being inflamed.
We muſt not think that this method of extending an
illuſtration diſcovers always a defect or ſterility of the in-
ventive Faculty. It is, in truth, the conſequence of that
propenſity which we naturally feel to conſider a favourite
idea in every point of light, and to render its excellence
as conſpicuous to others as it is to ourſelves. By this
means ſentiments become ſuperficial, becauſe the mind
is more intent upon their external dreſs, than their real
importance. They are likewiſe thinly ſcattered through a
work, becauſe cach of them receives an higher proportion
of ornament than juſtly belongs to it. We frequently
judge of them likewiſe, in the fame manner as a birth-
day ſuit is eſtimated by its purchaſer, not by the ſtandard
of intrinſic value, but by the opinion of the original pro-
prietor. Thus to ſuperficial readers,
verbum emicuit fi forte decorum,
Si verſus paulo concinnior unus aut alter
Injuſte totum ducit, venditque poema *.
One
* Hor. Epiſt. Lib. II. Epiſt. 1.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. lvii
One ſimile that folitary ſhines
In the dry deſart of a thouſand lines,
Or lengthen'd thought that gleams thro' many a page,
Has fanctified whole poems for an age.
Pope,
Custom, my Lord, that ſovereign arbiter, from whoſe
deciſion in literary as well as in civil cauſes, there fre-
quently lies no appeal, will lead us to conſider boldneſs
of tranſition as a circumſtance which is peculiarly charac-
teriſtic of the Ode. Lyric Poets have in all ages appro-
priated to themſelves the liberty of indulging imagina-
tion in her moſt irregular excurſions; and when a di-
greſſion is remotely ſimilar to the ſubject, they are per-
mitted to fall into it at any time by the invariable prac-
tice of their Predeceſſors. Pindar expreſſly lays claim to
this privilege.
Εγκαμιων γαρ αωτες Yυμνων
επ' αλλοτ' αλλον ως τε με-
λισσα θυνει λογον
The ſong that ſpreads ſome glorious name
Shifts its bold wing from theme to theme;
Roves like the bee regardleſs o'er,
And culls the ſpoils of every flower.
We muſt indeed acknowledge in general, that when
an high degree of ſpirit and vivacity is required to cha-
racteriſe any ſpecies of compoſition, the Author may be
i
allowed
* Pin. Pyth. Ode X.
lviii
AN ESSAY ON
ON THE
allowed to take greater liberties than we ſhould grant to
another, whoſe ſubject demanded regularity and connec-
tion. Let it however be obſerved at the ſame time, that
this freedom is often granted, not becauſe the theme in-
diſpenſibly requires, but becauſe we naturally expect it
from the genius of the Writer. We juſtly ſuppoſe, that
the Philoſopher feldon miſtakes his talents ſo far as to be
ſolicitous of ſhining in a ſphere, for which he muſt know
himſelf to be wholly diſqualified; and from the work of
a Poet who addreſſeth imagination, we look for thoſe
marks of wildneſs and incoherence which diſcover the
extent of that faculty.
I Have acknowledged in a former part of this Eſſay,
that the ſhorter Ode not only admits of bold and ſpirited
tranſitions, but that theſe are in many inſtances neceſſary
to conſtitute a perfect imitation of nature *. This ob-
ſervation however cannot be applied with ſo much pro-
priety to the other kinds of it, becauſe the tranſport of
paſſion is abrupt, inſtantaneous, and the mind returns
ſuddenly to the point from which it had digreſſed. On
the contrary, as the paſſions cannot be kept on their full
ſtretch for any conſiderable time, we expect that in the
higher ſpecies of Lyric Poetry, the Poet will keep the
principal object more immediately in his eye, and that
his tranſitions will never make us loſe ſight of it ſo far, as
not
# Letter I. p. xxxiii..
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. lix
not to recall with eaſe the intermediate points of con-
nection.
When this rule is not violated, we can enter with
pleaſure into the deſign of the Poet, and conſider his
work as a whole in which every ſeparate member has its
diſtinct and proper uſe. Thus, when Pindar is celebra-
ting Ariſtagoras, we can eaſily obſerve that the Poet's ob-
lique encomium on the Father and friends of his Heroe,
is introduced with great propriety, as every remark of
this kind reflects additional luftre on the character of the
principal perſonage*. We are even ſometimes highly
entertained with digreſſions, which have not ſo near a re-
lation to the ſubject of the Ode as the laſt mentioned cir-
cumſtance; becauſe though the immediate deſign is not
going forward, we can ſtill however keep it in view with
the ſame eaſe, as a traveller can do the public road, from
which he willingly makes an excurſion to ſurvey the
neighbouring country. Thus the noble panegyric upon
the whole people of Rhodes, and the account of their
Founder Tlepolemus, which we meet with in the Ode
inſcribed to Diagoras the Rhodian; theſe are happy and
beautiful embelliſhments, whoſe introduction enlivens the
whole piece with a proper variety of objects t.
The ſame principle which induceth us to approve of
the Poet's tranſitions in the preceding inſtances, muſt (as
your
+ Id. Olym. Ode VII.
i 2
* Pin. Nem. Ode XI.
1x
AN ESSAY ON THE
your Lordſhip will immediately conceive) lead us to con-
demn thoſe which are far-fetched, purſued too cloſely,
or foreign to the ſubject of the poem. This is frequently
the conſequence of following the track of imagination
with implicit compliance, as the Poet without being ſen-
ſible of his miſtake runs into one digreſſion after another,
until his work is made up of incoherent ideas ; in which,
as Horace exprefſeth it,
velut ægri fomnia vana
Finguntur ſpecies, ut nec pes, nec caput uni
Reddatur formæ *.
This is the character of the Ode to Thraſidæus the The-
ban, in which the Poet is inſenſibly led from one digref-
fion to another, until his readers loſe fight of the prin-
cipal ſubject which is dropped almoſt as ſoon as pro-
poſed +
The laſt circumſtance mentioned as characteriſtic of
the Ode, was a certain pictureſque vivacity of deſcription.
In this we permit the Lyric Poet to indulge himſelf with
greater freedom than any other, becauſe beauties of this
kind are neceſſary to the end of exciting admiration. It
is the peculiar province of imagination to give that life
and expreſſion to the ideas of the mind, by which Na-
ture is moſt happily and judiciouſly imitated. By the
help of this poetical magic the coldeſt ſentiments become
in-
+ Hor, de Art. Poet.
† Pind. Pych. Ode XI.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixi
intereſting, and the moſt common occurrences arreſt our
attention. A man of Genius, inſtead of laying down a
feries of dry precepts for the conduct of lifc, exhibits his
ſentiments in the moſt animating manner, by moulding
them into ſymmetry, and ſuperadding the external beau-
ties of drapery and colour *. His reader by this expe-
dient is led through an Elyſium, in which his Fancy is
alternately ſoothed and tranſported with a delightful ſuc-
ceſſion of the moſt agreeable objects, whoſe combination
at laſt ſuggeſts an important moral to be impreſſed upon
the memory. The Ancients appear to have been fully
ſenſible of the advantages of this method of illuſtrating
truth, as the works not only of their Poets, but even
thoſe of their Philoſophers and Hiſtorians abound with
juſt and beautiful perſonifications t. Their two allego-
rical
* Thus the reader, who would pay little regard to the perſon who ſhould
forbid him to truſt the world too much, will yet be ſtruck with this ſimple
admonition, when it appears in the work of a Genius.
Lean not on earth, 'cwill pierce thee to the hearts,
A broken reed at beſt, but oft' a ſpear,
On its ſharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires. NightThoughts.
+ Thus Xenophon, the ſimpleſt and moſt perſpicuous of Hiſtorians, has
borrowed many noble images from Homer; and Plato is often indebted to
this Poet, whom yet he baniſhed from his Commonwealth. Cicero in his
moſt ſerious pieces ſtudies the di&tion, and copies the manner of the Greek
Philoſopher ; and it evidently appears, that Thucydides has taken many a
glowing Metaphor from the Odes of Pindar. We might produce many ex.
amples of this from their writings, if theſe would not ſwell this note to too
great a length. The reader of taſte may ſee this ſubject fully diſcuſſed in
Mr. Gedde's ingenious Efay on the Compoſition of the Ancients.
lxii
AN ESSAY ON THE
rical Philoſophers, Prodicus and Cebes, carry the matter
ſtill further, and inculcate their leſſons, by ſubſtituting in
place of cool admonition a variety of perſonages, who
aſſume the moſt dignified character, and addreſs at the
ſame time the imagination, the paſſions, and even the
fenſes of mankind *. Theſe Authors conſider man as a
creature poſſeſſed of different, and of limited faculties,
whoſe actions are directed more frequently by the impulſe
of paſſion, than regulated by the dictates of reaſon and
of truth t.
It is obvious, that in Lyric Poetry the Author cannot
run into this ſeries of methodiſed allegory, becauſe the
ſubjects of the Ode are real incidents which would be
disfigured by the continued action of fictitious perſon-
ages. His deſcriptions therefore ought to be conciſe, di-
verſified, and adapted properly to that train of ſentiment
which he is employed to illuſtrate. When this is the
caſe, we are highly entertained with frequent perſonifica-
tions, as theſe are criterions by which we eſtimate the
genius of the Poet.
I
* Δει δε της μυθους συνις αναι, και τη λεξει συναπεργαζεσθαι οιτι μαλιστα προς ομ -
ματων τεθεμενον.
. Ουτο γαρ αν εναργεςατα ορων ώσπερ σαρ αυτοις γιγνομενος τους
αρατζομενοις, ευρισκοι το τρεπον, και ηκιςα αν’ λανθανοιτο τα υπευαυτια. Αrift. Poet.
c. 17.
+ Thus Cicero tells us. Nec eft majus in dicendo, quam ut Orator fic
moveatur, ut impetu quodam animi, & perturbatione magis quam concilio
regatur. Plura enim multo homines judicant odio, & amore, & cupiditate,
&c. quam veritate & præſcripto. De Orat. Lib. II. C. 42.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Txüi
I need not, my Lord, to ſuggeſt on this branch of my
ſubject, that it requires the utmoſt delicacy to perſonify
inanimate objects fo juſtly, as to render them adapted in
every circumſtance to the occaſion on which they are in-
troduced. Your Lordſhip however will permit me to ob-
ferve, that as the happieſt effect is produced upon the
mind of the reader by the judicious introduction of an
ideal perſonage; ſo he is apt to be diſguſted in an equal
degree, when the conduct of the Poet in this inſtance is
in the ſmalleſt meaſure irregular or defective. When an
intellectual idea falls under the cognizance of an external
ſenſe, it is immediately ſurveyed with an accuracy pro-
portioned to its importance, and to the diſtance at which
we ſuppoſe it to be placed. We judge of Virtue and
Vice, when repreſented as perſons, in the ſame manner
as we judge of men whoſe appearance is ſuggeſted by
memory; and we therefore expect that theſe ideal figures
ſhall be diſcriminated from each other by their dreſs, at-
titudes, features, and behaviour, as much as two real
per-
fons of oppoſite characters always are in the familiar in-
tercourſe of ordinary life. In reality we aſſign a particu-
lar ſhape, complection, and manner to the creatures of
imagination, by the ſame rule which leads us to aſcribe a
certain aſſemblage of features to a perſon whom we have
never ſeen, upon ſeeing his character particularly diſplay-
ed, or upon liſtening to a minute detail of his actions.
Nay,
4
1xiv
ON THE
AN ESSAY
upon fee-
Nay, odd as it may appear, it is yet certain, that in
many inſtances our idea of the imaginary perſon may be
more diſtinct and particular than that of the real one.
Thus we often find that the repreſentation exhibited by
Fancy of the figure of an Heroe, whoſe actions had
raiſed admiration ; I ſay, we find that this repreſentation
has been wide of the truth, when we come either to ſee
the original, or a faithful copy of it: but our ideas of
imaginary perſons are generally ſo exact, that
ing a group of theſe diſplayed on a plate, we are capable
to give each its proper deſignation, as ſoon as we obſerve
it. Thus Anger, Revenge, Deſpair, Hope, &c. can be
diſtinguiſhed from each other almoſt as eaſily when they
are copied by the pencil, as when we feel their influence on
our own minds, or make others obſerve it on our ačtions.
From this detail it obviouſly follows, that as our ideas
of imaginary perſonages are more juſt and accurate, than
thoſe which are excited merely by a particular relation of
the actions of real ones; ſo we will judge with more cer-
tainty of the preciſe colouring which belongs to the for-
mer, and of the propriety with which they are introdu-
ced, than we can poſſibly do with regard to the latter.
A Painter may deceive us, by throwing into the face of
an Heroe, whom we have never ſeen, particular marks of
reſolution and fortitude, which form only a part of his
character. But we cannot be deceived with regard to
the
1
i
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. lxv
the ſignatures which ſhow the predominancy of theſe
virtues, with whatever degree of juſtice they may be ap-
plied. This obſervation has equal force, when we refer
it to the allegorical perſonages of the Poet. The leaſt
impropriety in the colouring, dreſs, or arrangement of
objects, is immediately perceptible, and we paſs a favour-
able judgment, when faults of this kind are aſcribed to
inattention. In ſhort, the imaginary perſons who are in-
troduced in a poem, muſt on all occaſions be diſtinguiſhed
by peculiar characters, and the manners attributed to each
of them ought to be ſuch as can be applied with no pro-
priety to any other object. Every picture muſt therefore
be, as Pope ſomewhere has it,
Something whoſe truth convinc'd at ſight we find,
That gives us back the image of the mind.
A little reflection will enable us to diſcover the rea-
ſon of this difference betwixt our ideas of allegorical and
of real perſonages. We are (as I formerly obſerved) often
miſtaken in our notions of the latter of theſe, becauſe the
mind cannot receive a ſufficient degree of information
concerning the perſon, to be able to form any perfect
judgment of his addreſs or demeanour. Upon hearing,
for inſtance, a recital of the actions of a man who is un-
known to us, our idea of him is taken from the paſſion
which appears to have predominated in his conduct; but
we are not acquainted with numberleſs little peculiarities
k
which
Ixvi
AN ESSAY ON THE
which enter into a complicated character, and have their
correſponding expreſſions imprinted on the countenance.
Thus when we conſider only the martial exploits of the
celebrated Duke de Vendome, we have the idea of an
Heroe full of ſpirit and impetuofity; but this idea would
be very imperfect as a repreſentation of his character, if
we did not know likewiſe that he was ſlovenly, volup-
tuous, effeminate, and profuſe *.
These different ingredients, which enter into the mind
of a real agent, ought likewiſe to be nicely eſtimated as to
the degrees in which they predominate, before we could
be properly qualified to judge of their influence on his
external appearance. As it is evidently impoſſible that
we can ever be thoroughly appriſed of the former, it is
therefore obvious that our judgment of the latter muſt be
always imperfect. On the contrary, we are never at a
loſs to conceive a juſt idea of one fimple expreſſion, be-
cauſe the Original from which the Copy is drawn exiſts
in our own mind. We are likewiſe naturally taught to
diſtinguiſh properly the inſignia of imaginary creatures.
Thus Fear is always known by her briffled hair, Admira-
tion by his erected eyes, Time has his ſcythe and his hour-
glaſs, and Fortune (unchangeable in one ſenfe) ſtands
blind on the globe, to which ſhe was exalted by Cebes t.
2
I
* Volt. Siec. Louis XIV. c. 21.
+ Cebet. Tab.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixvii
I OUGĦT, my Lord, to apologize for the length of this
digreſſion on the nature of allegorical Perſons ; a ſubject
which I have treated more particularly, as I do not re-
member to have ſeen it canvaſſed minutely by any Wri-
ter either ancient or modern.
I SHALL only obſerve further on this head, that though
a Poet is ſeldom in hazard of being groffly faulty, with
reſpect to the dreſs and inſignia of his perſonages, yet
intemperate imagination will induce him to uſe this no-
ble figure too frequently by perſonifying objects of finall
comparative importance; or by leaving the ſimple and
natural path, to entangle himſelf in the labyrinth of Fic-
tion. This is the fault which we have already found to
characteriſe the writings of the firſt Lyric Poets, from
which we ſhould find it an hard taſk to vindicate their
ſucceſſors, even in the moſt improved ſtate of ancient
learning. Inſtead of producing examples of this intem-
perance, which the Greek Theology was peculiarly cal-
culated to indulge, I ſhall only obſerve in general, that
we are miſtaken in thinking that the Genius of a Poet is
indicated by the diverfified incidents which enter into his
Fable. True Genius,' even in its moſt early productions,
will be diſcovered rather by vivid and pictureſque deſcrip-
tions, than by any circumſtances however extraordinary
in the narration of events. It is no difficult matter to
conceive a ſeries of fictitious incidents, and to connect
them
k 2
lxviii AN ESSAY ON
THE
is
them together in one ſtory, though it requires judgment
to do this in ſuch a manner, as that the whole may have
ſome happy and continued alluſion to truth. We can
imagine, for inſtance, with great eaſe ſomething as im-
poſſible as Arioſto's Magician purſuing the man who had
taken off his head. But it will be found a much more
difficult taſk, either to throw out one of thoſe ſtrokes of
Nature which penetrate the heart, and cleave it with
terror and with pity; or to paint Thought in ſuch ſtrik-
ing colours, as to render it immediately viſible to the
eye*
THE
* Upon the principle eſtabliſhed here, we may account in fome meaſure
for Voltaire's apparently paradoxical aſſertion, with regard to the compara-
tive merit of Homer and Taffo. The Italian (ſays that ſpirited writer) has
more conduct, variety and juſtneſs than the Greek. Admitting the truth
of this reflection, we might ſtill reply, that the principal merit of the Iliad,
conſidered as the production of Genius, lies in the grandeur of the ſenti-
ments, the beauty and fublimity of the illuſtrations, and the original ſtrokes
which are wrought into the deſcription of the principal Actors. In all theſe
reſpects we may venture to affirm, that Homer remains without a fuperior
among Authors unaided by Inſpiration ; and the reader muſt be left to judge
whether or not it is from theſe criterions that we eſtimate the Genius of a
Poet. Our Author proceeds upon the fame principles to compare the Or-
lando Furioſo with the Odyſſey, and give a preference to the former. The
merit of theſe works may be aſcertained in ſome meaſure, by the rules we
have already eſtabliſhed. We need only to add further on this head, that
among many beauties we meet with examples of the turgid and bombaſt
in the work of Arioſto; from which that of the Greek Poet is wholly free.
The two firſt lines of his Poem,
Le Donne, e Cavalieri, l'arme, gli amore,
Le Cortefe l'audaci impreſi io canto.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixix
The nobleſt inſtances of this perſonification are to be
found in the Sacred Writings. Nothing can exceed the
majeſty, with which the deſcent of the Almighty is de-
ſcribed by the Prophet Habakkuk. " Before Him (he
" tells us) went the Peſtilence, &c.” then ſuddenly ad-
dreſſing the Deity in the ſecond perſon, he ſays " the
“ Mountains ſaw Thee, and they trembled, the Overflow-
“ ing of the waters paſſed by, the Deep uttered his voice,
" and lift up his hands on high *. In another place, the
Deluge is nobly animated, in order to diſplay the Omni-
“ The waters (ſays the Pſalmiſt) ſtood
« above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled, at the
“ voice of thy thunder they baſted away.”
From this ſimple and impartial view of the Lyric
Poetry of the Ancients, conſidered as one branch of a
cultivated Art, your Lordſhip will perhaps be inclined to
conclude, that in the Arts, as in the characters of men,
thoſe which are ſuſceptible of the higheſt excellence, are
like
potence of God.
if they do not put one in mind of the Cyclic Writer mentioned by Horace,
who begins his Poem with
Fortunam Priani cantabo, & nobile bellum.
yet are of a very different ſtrain from thoſe which introduce the Odyſſey,
Ανδρα μοι ενεπε Μουσα πολυτροπον, ός μαλα πολλα
Πλαγχθη σε.
I cannot help thinking that the whole of this introduction is remarkably
ſimple and unornamented, though a very judicious and ingenious Critic
feems to be of a contrary opinion.
* Hab. ch. iii. ¥. 3.
1x*
THE
AN ESSAY ON
likewiſe frequently marked with the moſt ſtriking de-
fects. This mixture of beauty and deformity, of gran-
deur and meanneſs, which enters ſo often into the action
as well as the ſpeculation of mankind, ought to be con-
ſidered as the characteriſtic of the human mind, which
in the chimerical purſuit of perfection is hurried by its
own impetuoſity from one extreme to another. Your .
Lordſhip has, no doubt, frequently obferved, that there
is
upon the whole a greater uniformity in the characters
of men than ſuperficial enquiry would lead us to con-
ceive. A temptation operating forcibly on the ruling
paſſion will produce in a temper naturally gentle and
equal, an irregularity as remarkable, and ſometimes car-
ried to a greater length, than the moſt powerful ſtimu-
lus is able to excite in a man of warm paſſions, and forid.
imagination. This is a fact, of which experience will
ſuggeſt examples to every perſon who is converſant with
mankind.
We ought not therefore to wonder, when we obſerve
in the writings of a Great Genius beauties and blemiſhes
blended promiſcuouſly, and when we find the Poet's
imagination diſtinguiſhed only by thoſe marks of inaccu-
racy which appear in the actions of others, and which
are ultimately to be derived from the complicated ingre-
dients of the human mind,
I
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. lxxi
upon the
I have been led into this train of reflection, as it will
enable us to account for the inequalities which are to be
met with in the writings of Pindar, expoſed as they have
been to the admiration, and to the cenſure of poſterity.
Whatever propriety the preceding rules may have with
regard to Lyric Poetry, it is certain that this poet is not
the ſtandard from whoſe work they are deduced. We
have already ſeen that He himſelf diſclaims all conformity
to the ſhackles of method, and that he inſiſts
privilege of giving a looſe rein to the excurſions of ima-
gination. The conſequences of this proceeding are emi-
nently conſpicuous in every part of his writings. His
compoſition is coloured with that sich imagery which
Fancy throws upon the coldeſt ſentiments, his digreſſions
are often too frequent and but remotely connected with
the principal ſubject, his perſonifications are bold and ex-
uberant, and he has made as free an uſe of theological
fable as any Poet among the Ancients.
The learned and ingenious Tranſlator of Pindar has
ſuggeſted ſeveral ſtriking pleas in his favour, both with
reſpect to the connection of his thoughts and the regularity
of his meaſure*. To reſume on the preſent occaſion any
part of what he hath advanced, would be equally uſeleſs
and improper. As to the firft, I ſhall only add to this
Gentleman's obſervations, that all the writings of Pindar
which
Mr. Weſt. See the Preface and Notes of his Tran Nation,
lxxii AN ESSA Y ON
THE
which have reached the preſent times are of the panegy-
rical kind, in which remote circumſtances and diſtant al-
lufions are often referred to with great propriety; that
ſometimes ſeveral Odes are inſcribed to the ſame perſon ;
and that all of thein are wrote on ſubjects too exactly
fimilar to afford room for continued variety of deſcription,
without allowing him frequently to digreſs. It is ob-
vious that in theſe circumſtances the Poet muſt have been
forcibly prompted to indulge the natural exuberance of
his genius, that he might gain materials to fill up his ſub-
ject, and that he might pay a compliment to his Patron
by ſome digreſſion on the merit of his Anceſtors, as well
as by an encomium on his perſonal qualities *. If theſe
conſiderations do not fully apologize for the excurſions
of this Great Genius, they render them at leaſt more ex-
cuſable
* It is genetally to be ſuppoſed, that a Poet in a panegyrical addreſs co
his Patron will ſelect with ſolicitude every circumſtance in his character and
actions which excite approbation, in order to render his encomium as per-
fect and compleat as poſſible. When therefore he is uncxpectedly engaged
to retouch a ſubject which he had formerly diſcuſſed, we ought to expect,
either that he will fix upon new points of panegyric, which is always a matter
of the greateſt difficulty; or we muſt indulge him in the liberty of calling
in adventitious aliſtance, when he is deprived of other materials. This ap-
pears on many occaſions to have been the caſe of Pindar. No leſs than four
of his Odes are inſcribed to Hiero King of Syracuſe, all on account of his
victories in the Games of Greece. Two Odes immediately following the firſt
to Hiero are addreſſed to Theron King of Agrigentum ; Pſaumis of Cama-
rina is celebrated in the 4th and 5th Olympic; and the gth and io'h are filled
with the praiſes of Ageſidamus the Locrian. Every reader muſt make great
allowances for a Poet, who was ſo often obliged to retouch and to diverſify
Subjects of one kind,
...
2
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixxiii
cuſable in him, than the ſame liberties without an equal
inducement can poſſibly be in any of his imitators.
After all however we muſt acknowledge, that Pindar
has rendered his pieces obſcure on many occaſions by giv-
ing too much ſcope to a wild imagination; and perhaps
the true reaſon for which he took this liberty was that he
imitated the example of bis Predeceſſors. He had ſeen the
firſt Lyric Poets indulging the boldeſt ſallies of Fancy,
and applying to particular purpoſes the Mythology of
their country; and as their writings had been held in ad-
miration by ſucceeding ages, inſtead of being expoſed to
the reſearches of criticiſm, he was encouraged to proceed
in the ſame courſe, by the expectation of obtaining a fi-
milar reward. From a paſſage formerly quoted, it would
appear
that Pindar thought himſelf peculiarly exempted
from conforming to rules of any kind whatever *, and
we can ſuppoſe this opinion to have proceeded originally
from no other foundation than his knowledge of the prac-
tice of former authors.
I am ſufficiently aware, my Lord, that ſome readers
may object to the preceding theory, that it is probable,
if Pindar had been of opinion that Lyric Poetry in his
time ſtood in need of material emendations, the fame
fertility of invention which enabled him to reach the
heighth of excellence in this art, without however alter-
1
ing
* Vide ſupra, per
.
Ixxiv AN ESSAY ON THE
ing its original principles; that this would have led him
likewiſe to invent new rules, and to ſupply the deficien-
cies of his Predeceſſors. I will venture to affirm, that
this is the only ſpecies of invention, in which we have
ſeldom reaſon to expect that an Original Genius will at-
tempt to excel.
It hath often been obſerved, that the earlieſt produc-
tions of a Great Genius are generally the moſt remarka-
ble for wildneſs and inequality. A ſublime imagination
is always reaching at ſomething great and aſtoniſhing.
Sometimes it ſeizeth the object of its purſuit, and at
others, like a perſon dizzy with the heighth of his ſta-
tion, it ſtaggers and falls headlong. When the mind of
ſuch a perſon ripens, and his judgment arrives at its full
maturity, we have reaſon to expect that the ſtrain of his
compoſition will be more conſiſtent and maſterly; but
his imagination, cramped by the rules which have been
formerly laid down, will be ſtill deſirous of breaking the
old fetters, rather than ſolicitous of inventing new ones.
Though therefore it muſt be acknowledged that the ſame
Faculty which is able to invent characters, and to colour
ſentiment may likewiſe diſcover the rules and principles
of
an Art, yet we have no ground to hope that it will
often be employed to effectuate a purpoſe which an Au-
thor may conſider as in ſome meaſure prejudicial.
2
To
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. .
Ixxv.
TOUTO
To compenſate for the blemiſhes formerly mentioned,
the writings of Pindar abound with the moſt inſtructive
moral ſentiments, as well as with the moſt exquiſite beau-
ties of deſcriptive poetry.
The Poet often throws in a
reflection of this kind in the moſt natural manner, as it
ſeems to ariſe ſpontaneouſly from the ſubject. Thus he
prepares the mind to hear of the cataſtrophe of Tlepole-
mus by an exclamation perfectly appofite, and appropri-
ated to the occaſion.
Αμφι δ' ανδρω-
πων φρεσιν αμπλακιαι
Αναριθμητοι κρεμανται
*
αμηκανον
άμηκανον ευρείν
Οτι νυν, και εν τελευ-
τα φερτατον ανδρε τυχειν. . Pin. Olym. VII.
But wrapt in error is the human mind,
And human bliſs is ever inſecure;
Know we what fortune yet remains behind ?
Know we how long the preſent ſhall endure ?
This method of introducing moral obſervations adds
peculiar dignity and importance to Lyric Poetry, and is
likewiſe happily ſuited to the Ode, whoſe diverſified com-
poſition naturally admits of it.
I SHALL only obſerve further with regard to Pindar,
that his character is eminently diſtinguiſhed by that no-
ble ſuperiority to vulgar opinions, which is the inſepara-
ble concomitant of true genius. He appears to have
had
WEST
1 2
lxxvi AN ESSAY ON ON
THE
had his Zoilus as well as Homer, and to have been equally
ſenſible of the extent and ſublimity of his own talents.
Thus he compares his enemies to a parcel of crows and
magpies purſuing an eagle.
The learned Abbe Fraquier in a ſhort diſſertation on
the character of Pindar affirms, that one will diſcover too
obvious an imitation of this Poet in thoſe pieces of Ho-
race which are ſublime and diverſified *. He mentions,
as examples of this, his celebrated Odes to Virgil + and
to Galatea I, intended to diſſuade them from going to
ſea ; and that in which he fo artfully repreſents to the
Roman people the danger and impropriety of removing
the ſeat of the Empire to Troy ş. Upon comparing theſe
with the Odes of Pindar, he ſays that we ſhall find more
ſtrength, more energy, and more ſublimity in the works
of the Greek, than in thoſe of the Roman Poet II. In
the three Odes formerly mentioned, he obſerves that the
digreſſions never lead us far from the principal ſubject, and
the Poet's imagination appears to be too much confined
to one place. On the contrary, Pindar never curbs the
ex-
* Ce ſon des tableaux d'un Eleve habile, ou l'on reconnoit la maniere
du Maitre, bien qu'on n'y retrouve pas a beaucoup près tout ſon genie.
Mem. de Liter. Tom. III. p. 49.
+ Car. Lib. I. Od. 3.
| Id. Lib. III. Od. 27.
$ Carm. Lib. III. Ode 3.
[ Il eſt aiſe d'en marquer la difference ſans parler de celle du ſtile qui
dans Pindare a toujours plus de force, plus d'energie, & plus de noblefie
que dans Horace, &c. Mem. de Lit. ubi ſupra.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. lxxvii
exuberance of his Genius. He celebrates promiſcuouſly
in the fame Ode, Gods, Heroes, and perſons who have
made a ſhining figure in their age and country, by imi-
tating illuſtrious examples *
From the obſervations made on the manner of Horace
in a preceding part of this Effay, it is ſufficiently obvious,
that his Genius in Lyric Poetry was principally fitted to
excel in the compoſition of the ſhorter Ode; and that
his imagination was not ſo equal as that of Pindar to the
higher and more perfect fpecies. Of the three Pieces,
however, which this Author hath mentioned as imita-
tions of the Greek Poet, we can only admit one to have
been compleatly attempted in the manner of this Great
Mafter. It is that which regards the deſign of removing
the imperial ſeat to Troy. The other two Odes are
highly beautiful in their kind; but the ſubjects are not
treated at fo much length, nor with that variety of high
poetic colouring which characteriſeth ſo eminently the
writings of the latter.
The Ode to the Roman people is
indeed compoſed in an higher ſtraint, and is full of that
enthuſiaſm which the ſubject might naturally be ſuppoſed
to excite in the mind of a Poet, who was animated by
the love of his country. Through the whole of this no-
ble performance, the addreſs of the Author, and the em-
phatical energy with which the ſentiments are conveyed,
deſerve
:
Id. ibid.
1xxviii
AN ESSAY ON THE
deſerve to be equally the objects of admiration. The
Poem opens with a juſt and poetical deſcription of the ſe-
curity of Virtue; from which the Poet takes occaſion to
introduce an artful compliment to Auguſtus, whom he
ranks with Bacchus and Romulus; on the aſcent of
which laſt to heaven, Juno exprefſeth her averſion to the
repeopling of Troy. She breaks abruptly into the ſub-
ject, in a manner expreſſive of eager folicitude.
Ilion, Ilion,
Fatalis inceftuſque Judex
Et Mulier peregrina vertit
In pulverem *
Troy,-perjured Troy has felt
The dire effects of her proud tyrant's guilt ;
An Umpire partial and unjuſt,
And a lewd woman's impious luſt,
Lay heavy on her head, and funk her to the duſt.
ADDISON,
She then proceeds in the moſt artful manner to inſinuate,
that as the deſtruction of this city was occaſioned by her
ingratitude to the Gods, as well as by the particular in-
jury done to her and Minerva, if Troy ſhould be thrice
rebuilt by the hand of Apollo, the Greeks would thrice
be permitted to overturn it; and
ter Uxor
Capta, virum pueroſque ploret to
}
}
Thrice
# Car. Lib. III. Od. 3. ·
+ Id. ibid.
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixxix
Thrice ſhould her captive dames to Greece return,
And their dead ſons, and ſlaughter'd Huſbands mourn.
ADDISON.
The proſperity which ſhe promiſeth to the Roman arms
is therefore granted, only upon condition that they never
think of rebuilding this deteſted city.
From the preceding ſhort account of this celebrated
Ode, it will appear that the tranſitions are extremely art-
ful, the ſentiments noble, and that the whole conduct is
happy and judicious. Theſe, if I miſtake not, are the
diſtinguiſhing excellencies of the larger Odes of Horace,
in which the Poet's didaetic genius is remarkably conſpi-
cuous. Perhaps however, your Lordſhip, like the French
Critic, is at a loſs to find in all this, the energy, the ve-
hemence, the exuberance of Pindar. Horace himſelf
was perfe&tly ſenſible of the ſuperior excellence of the
Greek Poet, and never riſes to truer ſublimity than when
he is drawing his character. The following image is
great, and appropriated to the ſubject.
Monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres
Quem ſuper notas aluere ripas
Fervet, immenfuſque ruit profundo
Pindarus ore *.
Pindar like ſome fierce torrent ſwoln with ſhow'rs,
Or ſudden Cataracts of melting Snow,
Which from the Alps its headlong Deluge pours,
And foams, and thunders o'er the Vales below,
With
* Car. Lib. IV. Od. 2.
in.
1
:
1xxx AN ESSAY ON THE
With deſultory fury borne along,
Rolls his impetuous, vaſt, unfathomable fong. West.
I know not, my Lord, how it happens, that we ge-
nerally find ourſelves more highly pleaſed with exceſs and
inequality in poetic compoſition, than with the ſerene,
the placid, and the regular progreſſion of a corrected
imagination. Is it becauſe the mind is ſatiated with uni-
formity of any kind, and that remarkable blemiſhes, like
a few barren fields interſperſed in a landſchape give ad-
ditional luſtre to the more cultivated ſcenery? Or does it
proceed from a propenſity in human nature to be pleaſed,
when we obſerve a great Genius ſometimes ſinking as far
below the common level, as at others, he is capable of riſing
above it? I confeſs, that I am inclined to deduce this
feeling more frequently from the former than from the
latter of theſe cauſes ; though I am afraid that the
warmeſt benevolence will hardly prevail upon your Lord-
ſhip not to attribute it in ſome inſtances to a mixture of
both.
WHATEVER may be in this, it is certain that the Odes
of Horace, in which he has profeſſedly imitated Pindar,
are much more correct and faultleſs than theſe of his
Maſter. It would, perhaps, be ſaying too much, to af-
firm with ſome Critics, that the judgment of the Roman
Poet was ſuperior to that of his Rival; but it is obvious,
that the operation of this Faculty is more remarkable in
his
4
+
2
ci
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixxxi
his writings, becauſe his imagination was more ductile
and pliable.—Upon the whole, therefore, we ſhall not
da injuſtice to theſe two great men, if we aſſign to their
works the ſame degree of comparative excellence, whicla
the Italians aſcribe to the pieces of Dominichino and Gui-
do. The former was a great but an unequal Genius ;
while the more corrected performances of the latter were
animated by the Graces, and touched by the pencil of Ele-
gance *.
m
I Am afraid, that your Lordſhip is now thinking it high
time to bring the whole of this detail to a period.
Upon reviewing the obſervations made on the Lyric Poc-
try of the Ancients through the preceding part of this Ef-
fay,
* The Reader will obſerve, that nothing has been ſaid in this Elay on
the regularity of the meaſure of Pindar's Odes. This ſubject is treated lo
fully in the preface of Mr. Weſt's Tranſlation, that we need only here to re-
fer the curious to his remarks. The Ancient Odes are always to be confi-
fidered as fongs which were ſet to muſick, and whoſe recital was generally
accompanied with dancing. If we may be permitted to form an idea of this
muſic, from the nature and compoſition of the Ode, it muſt have been a
marcer of great difficulty to excel in it, as it is certain chat poems which
abound with ſentiments are more proper to be ſet to muſic, than thoſe which
are ornamented with imagery. Theſe fifter-arts uſually keep pace with each
other, either in their improvement or decay. Ne ci dobbiamo (ſays an in-
genious Foreigner, ſpeaking of the modern Italian muſic) maravigliare, ce
corrotta la Poeſia, s'e anche corrotta la muſica; perche come nella ragior
poetica accennammo, tutte le arti imitative hanno una idea commune, dalla
cui alterazione ſi alterano tutte, e particolarmenti la muſica dall alterazion
deł la poeſia ſi cangia come dal corpo l'ombra. Onde cortotta la poeſia da
e ſoverchi ornamenti e dalla copia delle figure, ha communicato anche il
fuo morbo alla muſica, ormai tanto sfigurata, che ha perduta quaſi la natu-
ral eſt preſſione. Gavina della Traged. p. 70.
Ixxxi AN ESSAY ON ON
THE
fay, you will find that the ſubject has been conſidered
under the three following heads. In the firſt part I have
attempted to lay before your Lordſhip, the ſtate of Lyric
Poetry in the earlieſt ages, as it appears from what we can
collect either of the character of the writings of Amphion,
Linus, Orpheus, Muſeus, and Heſiod. In the courſe
ef this enquiry I have had occaſion to aſſign the cauſes,
whoſe concurrence rendered this branch of the poetic
Art leſs perfect at its firſt introduction than any of the
other ſpecies.—Upon advancing a little further, a richer
and more diverſified proſpect opened to the imagination.
In the firſt dawn of this more enlightened period, we
meet with the names of Alcæus and Sappho, who, with-
out altering the original. chara&ter of the Ode, made a
conſiderable change on the ſubječts to which it was ap-
propriated ; and in the full meridian of Science, we find.
this ſecond form of Lyric Poetry brought to its higheſt
perfection in the writings of Horace. Some remarks on
the nature of thoſe beauties which are peculiarly charac-
teriſtic of the higher ſpecies of the Ode, and on the part
which Imagination particularly claims in its compoſition,
led me to mention a few rules, the exact obſervation of
which will, perhaps, contribute to render this ſpecies of
poetry more correct and regular, without retrenching any
part of its diſcriminating beauties, and without ſtrait-
ning too much the Genius of the Poet. With this view I
have
:
4
LYRIC POETRY OF THE ANCIENTS. Ixxxiii
have endeavoured to characterize impartially the pindaric
inanner, by pointing out its excellencies, by enumerating
its defects, and by enquiring from what particular cauſes
the latter are to be deduced.
I consider it, my Lord, as a circumſtance particularly
agreeable on the preſent occaſion, that the Perſons who
are moſt capable to obſerve the defits of an Author, åre
likewiſe commonly the readieſt to excuſe them. Little
minds, like the fly on the Edifice, will find many ine-
qualities in particular members of a work, which an en-
larged underſtanding either overlooks as inſignificant, or
contemplates as the mark of human imperfection. I am,
however, far from intending to inſinuate, that feelings of
this nature will prevail on your Lordſhip to conſider real
blemiſhes merely as the effects of an inadvertency; which
is excuſable in proportion to the intricacy of a ſubject. I
have been induced to throw together the preceding re-
marks, with an intention to reſcue Lyric Poetry from the
contempt in which it has been unjuſtly held by Authors
of unqueſtioned penetration, to prove that it is naturally
ſuſceptible of the bigheſt poetic beauty; and that under
proper regulations, it may be made ſubſervient to pur-
poſes as beneficial as any other branch of the Art. Theſe
facts will indeed be ſufficiently obvious to perſons unac-
quainted with the Ancients, by peruſing the works of
fome eminent Poets of the preſent age, whoſe names it
would
:
m 2
Ixxxiv AN ESSAY, &c.
would be ſuperfluous to mention. I diſmiſs this attempt,
and the pieces which accompany it, to the judgment of
the public, with that timidity and diffidence which the
review of ſo many great names, and the ſenſe of Inex-
perience are fitted to inſpire. Whatever may be the fate
of either, I ſhall remember, with pleaſure, that they
have afforded me an opportunity of teſtifying that high
and reſpectful eſteem, with which I have the Honour
to be,
MY LORD,
YOUR LORDSHIP's
MOST OBLIGED,
AND MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT,
J. OGILVIE.
A DO
ADVERTISEMENT.
T!
HE Author of the following Collection embraceth with
pleaſure, the opportunity afforded him by a new pub-
lication, of expreffing the deepeſt gratitude to the perſons
who have generouſly given ſo very favourable a reception to
his former produ£tions. In return to this generoſity, the
proprietors of the preceding editions have a right to know the
reaſon for which the preſent appears to be ſo much increaſed
in bulk ; though it is ſtill in part compoſed of the pieces of
which they are already in poleffion. The Author ingenu-
ouſly acknowledgeth, that he was led imperceptibly to take
this courſe, as he found encouragement from the approba-
tion of the public. He wrote, at firſt, with an intention
principally of Spending a vacant hour in an agreeable amuſe-
ment; and indeed at too early a period of life to be fufcepti.
tible of thoſe paſſions in any great degree, which operate fo
forcibly on the actions of mankind. He publiſhed a few de-
tached pieces with the utmoſt timidity; and, as he had juff
refletion enough to be ſenſible of his want of experience, he
was afraid of forfeiting the little eſteem he might have for-
merly acquired, by attempting injudiciouſly to enlarge it. In
whatever point of view we may conſider particular talents,
yet we feldom extol the prudence of that perſon who appears
to be highly elated by a little encouragement.
If the Author, actuated by this motive, barh proceeded
with ſome caution in the publication of his poetical Elays,
per-
4
A D V E R T IS E M E N T.
perhaps his readers of politeneſs and humanity will conſider
him as a ſiranger," who pays them the reſpeElful compliment
of being intimidated by their appearance, and who does not
ſeem to have conſidered Indulgence as the Parent of Pre-
ſumption.
Of the pieces which conpoſe the preſent Miſcellany, it is
proper to inform the reader, that ſome were written at that.
age, when the mind is leaſt capable of attending to correctneſs
and purity of compoſition. Of this kind is the Paraphraſe un
the 1481) Pſalm, and on the 34 Chapter of Habakkuk, the
tranſlation of Sappho's Ode to Venus, the Fable (which is
however conſiderably altered) and the little Ode written with
a flower. The laſt of theſe was written, when the Author
was about thirteen. Theſe pi.ces have been ſeparately perufid.
by perſons of unqueſtioned alle in literary productions, with
Jome approbation ; and the Author mentions this circun-
fance, not ſo much with a deſign to prepoſſeſs the judgment
of a Critic, as to afford ſome exerciſe to his good nature. In
few of the other poems (particularly in the Ode to Evening)
be has attempted either to ſtrike out new objects in the ſphere
of paſtoral deſcription; or to paint thoſe which are common
to every Poet, with a diverſity of colouring which may give
them the appearance of novelty. He is ſenſible that the ge-
neral obječts of deſcriptive poetry have paſſed ſo frequently in,
review before the imagination, that neither of theſe ends can
be effectuated with facility. The deciſion of the Public will
fully ſatisfy him, whether he is to regard this attempt as
wholly chimerical, or to conſider it as a purpoſe in ſome mea-
ſure accompliſhed
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roam,
***
.
O bear me, Goddeſs, to thy peaceful feat !
Whether to Hecla's cloud-wrapt brow convey'd,
Or lodg’d, where mountains ſcreen thy deep retreat,
Or wandering wild thro' Chili's boundleſs ſhade.
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Say,
}
:
2
ODES &c.
Say, rove thy ſteps o'er Libia's naked waſte?
Or ſeek ſome diſtant folitary ſhore ?
Or on the Andes' topmoſt mountain placed,
Do'ſt ſit, and hear the ſolemn thunder roar ?
Fix'd on ſome hanging rock's projected brow,
Hearſt Thou low murmurs from the diſtant dome?
Or ftray thy feet where pale dejected Woe
Pours her lang wail from ſome lamented tomb?
Hark! yon deep Echoe ſtrikes the trembling ear !
See Night's dun curtain wraps the darkſome pole!
O'er heav'ns blue arch yon rolling worlds appear,
And rouſe to folemn thought th' aſpiring foul.
O lead my ſteps beneath the Moon's dim ray,
Where Tadmor ſtands all-deſert and alone!
While from Her time-ſhook tow’rs, the bird of prey
Sounds thro' the night her long-reſounding moan.
Or bear me far to yon bleak diſmal plain,
Where fell-eyed Tygers all-athirſt for blood
Howl to the defart ;-while the horrid train
Roams o'er the wild where once great Babel ſtood.
3
That
0 DE S, C.
3
That Queen of nations / whoſe ſuperior call
Rouz’d the broad Eaſt, and bid Her arms deſtroy !
When warm’d to mirth,--let Judgment mark her Fall,
And deep Reflection daſh the lip of Joy.
Short is Ambition's gay deceitful drcam ;
Though wreaths of blooming lawrel bind her brow,
Calm Thought diſpels the viſionary ſcheme,
And Time's cold breath diffolves the withering bough.
.
Slow as foine Miner ſaps th' aſpiring tow's,
When working ſecret with deſtructive aim:
Unſeen, unheard, thus moves the ſtealing Hour;
But works the fall of Empire, Pomp, and Name.
Then let thy pencil mark the traits of Man;
Full in the draught be keen-eyed Hope pourtray’ds
Let fluttering Cupids croud the growing plan :
Then give one touch, and daſh it deep with ſhade.
Beneath the plume that flames with glancing rays,
Be Care's deep engines on the ſoul impreſs’d;
Beneath the helmet's keen refulgent blaze,
Let Grief fit pining in the canker'd breaſt.
B 2
Let
4
O DE S, c.
With Beauty pierc'd, yet heedleſs of the dart :
Let Love's gay fons, a ſmiling train, appear,
While cloſely couch’d, pale fickning Envy near
Whets her fell ſting, and points it at the heart.
.
Perch'd like a raven on ſome blaſted yew,
Let Guilt revolve the thought-diſtracting ſin
Scared, --while her eyes ſurvey th' etherial blue,
Left heav'n's ſtrong lightning burſt the Dark within.
Then paint,-impending o'er the madening deep
That rock, where heart-ſtruck Sappho vainly brave
Stood firm of ſoul;then from the dizzy ſteep
Impetuous ſprung, and daſh'd the boiling wave.
Here wrapt in ſtudious thought let Fancy rove,
Still prompt to mark Suſpicion's ſecret ſnare;
To ſee where Anguiſh nips the bloom of Love,
Or trace proud Grandeur to the domes of Care.
Should e’er Ambition's towering hopes inflame,
Let judging Reaſon draw the veil aſide;
Or fir’d with envy at ſome mighty name,
Read o'er the monument that tells, -He dyed.
3
What
---
OD ES & C.
5
What are the enſigns of imperial ſway ?
What all that Fortune's liberal hand has brought?
Teach they the voice to pour a ſweeter lay ?
Or rouze the ſoul to more exalted thought?
When bleeds the heart as Genius blooms unknown,
When melts the eye o'er Virtue’s mournful bier ;
Not wealth, but Pity ſwells the burſting groan,
Not pow'r, but whiſpering Nature prompts the tear.
Say, gentle mourner, in yon mouldy vault,
Where the worm fattens on ſome ſcepter'd brow,
Beneath that roof with ſculptur'd marble fraught,
Why ſleeps unmoved the breathleſs duſt below?
Sleeps it more ſweetly than the ſimple ſwain,
Beneath fome moſſy turf that reſts his head?
Where the ’lone Widow tells the Night her pain,
And Eve' with dewy tears embalms the dead.
The lily, ſcreen’d from ev'ry ruder gale,
Courts not the cultur’d ſpot where roſes ſpring :
But blows neglected in the peaceful vale,
And ſcents the zephirs balmy breathing wing.
Tlie
6
0 DE S,
&C.
The buſts of grandeur, and the pomp of pow'r;
Can theſe bid Sorrow's guſhing tears ſubſide ?
Can theſe avail, in that tremendous hour,
When Death's cold hand congeals the purple tide ?
Ah no!-the mighty names are heard no more :
Pride's thought ſublime and Beauty's kindling bloom
Serve but to ſport one flying moment o’er,
And ſwell with poinpous verſe the ſcutchond tomb.
For me:-
may Paſſion ne'er my ſoul invade,
Nor be the whims of towering Frenzy giv’n;
Let Wealth ne'er court me from the peaceful ſhade;
Where Contemplation wings the ſoul to heav'n.
O guard me fafe from Joy's enticing fnare !
With each extreme that Pleaſure tries to hide,
The poiſon’d breath of flow-conſuming Care,
The noiſe of Folly, and the dreams of Pride.
But oft when Midnight's fadly ſolemn knell
Sounds long and diſtant from the ſky-top't tower;
Calm let me ſit in Proſper's lonely cell *,
Or walk with Milton thro’ the dark Obſcure.
Thus
* See SHAKESPEAR's Tempeſt.
ODES,
&C.
7
Thus when the tranſient dream of life is fled,
May ſome fad friend recall the former years ;
Then ſtretch'd in ſilence o'er my duſty bed,
Pour the warm gulh of ſympathetic tears.
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A Walker del et foulp.
ODE to the Genius of SHAKESPEAR.
1. I.
R
APT from the glance of mortal eye,
Say burſts thy Genius to the world of light?
Seeks it yon ſtar-beſpangled ſky ?
Or ſkims it's fields with rapid flight?
Or mid' yon plains where Fancy ſtrays,
Courts it the balmy-breathing gale ?
Or where the violet pale
Droops o'er the green-embroider'd ſtream;
Or where young Zephir ſtirs the ruſtling ſprays,
Lyes all diffolv'd in fairy-dream.
O'er
A
O DE S,
SC,
9
A
O'er yon bleak deſart's unfrequented round
See'ſt thou where Nature treads the deepening gloom,
Sits on yon hoary tow'r with ivy crown'd,
Or wildly wails o'er thy lamented tomb;
Hear'ſt thou the ſolemn muſic wind along?
Or thrills the warbling note in thy mellifluous ſong?
1. 2.
i
Oft while on earth 'twas thine to rove
Where'er the wild-eyed Goddeſs lov'd to roam,
To trace ſerene the gloomy grove,
Or haunt meek Quiet's ſimple dome;
Still hovering round the Nine appear,
That pour the ſoul-tranſporting ſtrain
Join d to the Loves' gay train,
The looſe-robed Graces crown'd with flow'rs,
The light-wing'd gales that lead the vernal year,
And wake the roſy-featured Hours.
O’er all bright Fancy's beamy radiance ſhone,
How flam'd thy boſom as her charms reveal !
Her fire-clad eye ſublime, her ſtarry zone,
Her treffes looſe that wanton'd on the gale;
On Thee the Goddeſs fix'd her ardent look,
Then from her glowing lips theſe melting accents broko.
С
1. 3.
1
Το
O DES
C.
I. 3.
" To Thee, my favourite ſon, belong
« The lays that ſteal the liſtening hour;
“ To pour the rapture-darting ſong
“ To paint gay Hope's elyſian bower.
“ From Nature's hand to ſnatch the dart,
“ To cleave with pangs the bleeding heart;
" Or lightly ſweep the trembling ſtring, ,
“ And call the Loves with purple wing
“ From the blue deep where they dwell
“ With Naiads in the pearly cell,
« Soft on the ſea-born Goddeſs gaze * ;
" Or in the looſe robe's floating maze,
“ Diffolv’d in downy ſlumbers reſt
" Or Autter o'er her panting breaſt.
« Or wild to melt the yielding ſoul,
« Let Sorrow clad in fable ſtole
“ Slow to thy muſing thought appear ;
“ Or penſive Pity pale ;
“ Or Love's deſponding tale
« Call from th' intender'd heart the ſympathetic tear."
.
II. 1.
Say, whence the magic of thy mind?
Why thrills thy muſic on the ſprings of thought?
Why,
* Venus.
I
ODES
C.
11
Why, at thy pencil's touch refin'd
Starts into life the glowing draught?
On yonder fairy carpet laid,
Where Beauty pours eternal bloom,
And Zephir breathes perfume ;
There nightly to the tranced eye
Profuſe the radiant goddeſs ſtood diſplay'd,
With all her ſmiling offspring nigh.
Sudden the mantling cliff, the arching wood,
The broidered mead, the landſkip, and the grove,
Hills, vales, and ſky.dipt ſeas, and torrents rude,
Grots, rills and ſhades, and bowers that breath'd of love
All burſt to fight !—while glancing on the view,
Titania’s ſporting train brulh'd lightly o'er the dew.
II. 2.
The pale-eyed Genius of the ſhade
Led thy bold ſtep to Proſper's magic bower;
Whoſe voice the howling winds obey'd,
Whoſe dark ſpell chaind the rapid hour :
Then roſe ſerene the ſea-girt iſle;
Gay ſcenes by Fancy's touch refin’d
Glow'd to the muſing mind :
Such viſions bleſs the hermit's dream,
When hovering Angels prompt his placid ſmile,
Or paint ſome high ecſtatic theme.
C2
Then
1
I 2
O DE S,
C.
Then flam'd Miranda on th' enraptur'd gaze,
,
Then ſail'd bright Ariel on the bat’s fleet wing:
Or ſtarts the liſt’ning throng in ſtill amaze!
The wild note trembling on th' aerial ſtring!
The form in heav’n’s reſplendent veſture gay
Floats on the mantling cloud, and pours the melting lay *.
II. 3:
O lay me near yon limpid ſtream,
Whoſe murmur foothes the ear of Woe!
There in ſome ſweet poetic dream
Let Fancy's bright Elyſium glow!
'Tis done:-o'er all the bluſhing mead
The dark Wood ſhakes his cloudy head ;
Below, the lily-fringed dale
Breathes its mild fragrance on the gale ;
While in paſtime all-unſeen,
Titania robed in mantle green
Sports on the mofly bank : her train
Skims light along the gleaming plain ;
Or to the fluttering breeze unfold
The blue wing ſtreak’d with beamy gold;
Its pinions opening to the light !-
Say, burſts the viſion on my ſight?
Ah,
* Ariel: ſee the Tempeft.
O DE S, & AC.
I3
Ah, no! by Shakeſpear's pencil drawn
The beauteous ſhapes appear ;
While meek-eyed Cynthia near
Illumes with ſtreamy ray the filver-mantled lawn *
III. I.
But hark! the Tempeſt howls afar !
Burſts the loud whirlwind o’er the pathleſs waſte !
What Cherub blows the trump of war ?
What Demon rides the ſtormy blaſt?
Red from the lightning's livid blaze,
The bleak heath ruſhes on the fight;
Then wrapt in ſudden night
Diffolves.—But ah! what kingly form
Roams the lone deſart's deſolated maze of !
Unaw'd ! nor heeds the ſweeping ſtorm.
Ye pale-eyed Lightnings ſpare the cheek of Age!
Vain wiſh ;—though Anguiſh heaves the burſting groan.
Deaf as the Aint, the marble ear of Rage
Hears not the Mourner's unavailing moan :
Heart-pierc'd he bleeds, and ftung with wild deſpair
Bares his time-blaſted head, and tears his ſilver hair.
III. 20.
* See the Midſummer Night's Dream,
+ Lear.
1
5
14
O DE SA ,
&c.
III.
2.
Lo! on yon long-reſounding ſhore,
Where the rock totters o'er the headlong deep;
What phantomes bathed in infant gore
Stand muttering on the dizzy ſteep!
Their murmur ſhakes the zephir's wing !
The ſtorm obeys their pow’rful ſpell;
See, from His gloomy cell
Fierce Winter ſtarts ! his ſcowling eye
Bloats the fair mantle of the breathing Spring,
And lowers along the ruffled ſky.
To the deep vault the yelling harpies run
Its yawning mouth receives th' infernal crew.
Dim thro’ the black gloom winks the glimmering ſun,
And the pale furnace gleams with brimſtone blue.
Hell howls: and fiends that join the dire acclaim
Dance on the bubbling tide, and point the livid fame.
*
Ill. 3:
But ah! on Sorrow's cypreſs bough
Can Beauty breathe her genial bloom?
On Death's cold cheek will Paſſion glow ?
Or Muſic warble from the tomb?
There ſleeps the Bard, whoſe tuneful tongue
Pour’d the full ſtream of mazy ſong.
Young
* The Witches in Macbeth,
5
ODES
&c.
15
Young Spring with lip of ruby, here
Showers from her lap the bluſhing year ;
While along the turf reclin'd,
The looſe wing ſwimming on the wind,
The Loves with forward geſture bold,
Sprinkle the fod with ſpangling gold;
And oft the blue-eyed Graces trim
Dance lightly round on downy limb;
Oft too, when Eve' demure and ſtill
Chequers the
green
dale's purling rill,
Sweet Fancy pours the plaintive ſtrain,
Or wrapt in ſoothing dream,
By Avon's ruffled ſtream,
Hears the low-murmuring gale that dies along the plain.
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-
O DE to TIME,
Occafion'd by ſeeing the Ruins of an
OLD CASTLE.
THOU who mid the world-involving gloom, ,
Sit'ſt on yon ſolitary ſpire !
Or ſlowly ſhak'ſt the founding dome,
Or hear'ſt the wildly-warbling lyre ;
Say when thy muſing ſoul
Bids diſtant times unroll,
And marks the flight of each revolving year, ,
Of years whoſe flow-conſuming power
Has clad with moſs yon leaning tower,
That
O DE S,
c.
17
--
That ſaw the race of Glory run,
That mark'd Ambition's ſetting fun,
That ſhook old Empire's tow'ring pride,
That ſwept them down the floating tide,
Say when theſe long-unfolding ſcenes appear,
Streams down thy hoary cheek the pity-darting tear ?
1. 2.
Caft o'er yon trackleſs waſte thy wand'ring eye :
Yon Hill whoſe gold-illumin'd brow
Juſt trembling thro' the bending ſky,
O'erlooks the boundleſs wild below;
Once bore the branching wood
That o'er yon murm’ring flood
Hung wildly-waving to the ruſtling gale ;
The naked heath with moſs o'ergrown,
That hears the 'lone owl's nightly moan,
Once bloom'd with Summer's copious ſtore,
Once rais'd the lawn-beſpangling flow'r,
Or heard ſome Lover's plaintive lay,
When by pale Cynthia's filver ray,
All wild he wander’d o'er the lonely dale,
And taught the liſt’ning moon the melancholy tale.
D
I. 3.
18
%e.
ODES
דיל
1. 3.
Ye wilds where heav'n-rapt Fancy roves,
Ye ſky-crown'd hills, and ſolemn groves !
Ye low-brow'd vaults, ye gloomy cells !
Ye caves where night-bred Silence dwells !
Ghoſts that in yon lonely hall,
Lightly glance along the wall;
Or beneath yon ivy'd tow'r,
At the ſilent mid-night hour,
Stand array'd in ſpotleſs white,
And ſtain the duſky robe of Night;
Or with ſlow ſolemn pauſes, roam
O'er the long, ſounding, hollow dome!
Say mid yon deſert' ſolitary round,
When Darkneſs wraps the boundleſs ſpheres,
Does ne'er foine diſmal dying found
On Night's dull ſerious ear rebound,
That mourns the ceaſeleſs lapſe of life-conſuming years?
II. I.
O call th' inſpiring glorious hour to view,
When Caledonia's martial train,
From yon ſteep rock’s high-arching brow
Pour’d on the heart-ſtruck flying Dane !
2
When
O DES &c.
19
When War’s blood-tinctur'd ſpear
Hung o'er the trembling rear ;
When light-heeld Terror wing'd their headlong flight:
Yon Tow'rs then rung with wild alarms !
Yon Deſert gleam'd with ſhining arms !
While on the bleak hill's brightning ſpire,
Bold Vict’ry flam'd, with eyes of fire ;
Her limbs celeſtial robes infold,
Her wings were ting’d with ſpangling gold,
She ſpoke :-her words infus’d refiftleſs might,
And warm’d the bounding heart, and rous'd the ſoul of fight.
ty
II. 2.
But ah, what hand the ſmiling proſpect brings !
What voice recalls th' expiring day!
See darting ſwift on eagle-wings,
The glancing Moment burſts away!
So from ſome mountain's head,
In mantling gold array’d,
While bright-ey'd Fancy ſtands in ſweet ſurprize :
The vale where muſing Quiet treads,
The flow'r-clad lawns, and bloomy meads,
Or ſtreams where Zephyr' loves to ſtray
Beneath the pale Eve's twinkling ray ;
Or waving woods detain the fight :
-When from the gloomy cave of Night
Some
D 2
20
O DE S.
&c.
Some cloud ſweeps ſhadowy o'er the duſky ſkics,
And wraps the flying ſcene that fades, and ſwims, and dies
3.
II.
Lol riſing from yon dreary tomb,
What ſpectres ſtalk acroſs the gloom!
With haggard eyes, and viſage pale,
And voice that moans with feeble wail !
O'er yon long reſounding plain
Slowly moves the ſolemn train ;
Wailing-wild with ſhrieks of woe
O'er the bones that reſt below!
While the dull Night's ſtartled ear
Shrinks, aghaſt with thrilling fear!
Or ſtand with thin robes waſting ſoon,
And eyes that blaſt the fick’ning moon!
Yet theſe, ere Time had rolld their years away,
Ere death's fell arın had mark'd its aim;
Rul'd yon proud tow'rs with ample ſway,
Beheld the trembling ſwains obey ;
And wrought the glorious deed that ſwelld the trump
of Fame.
III. 1.
But why o'er theſe indulge the burſting figh?
Feels not each Ihrub the Tempeſt's pow'r ?
Rocks
O
DES, &c.
21
...
Rocks not the dome when whirl-winds Ay?
Nor ſhakes the hill when thunders roar ?
Lo! mould'ring, wild, unknown,
What Fanes, what Tow’rs o’erthrown,
What tumbling chaos marks the waſte of Time !
I fee Palmyra's temples fall !
Old Ruin ſhakes the hanging wall !
Yon waſte where roaming lions howl,
Yon aiſle where moans the grey-ey'd Owl,
Shows the proud Perſian's great abode *:
Where ſcepter'd once, an earthly God!
His pow'r-clad arm contrould each happier clime,
Where ſports the warbling Muſe, and Fancy foars
ſublime,
III. 2.
Hark !—what dire ſound rolls murm'ring on the gale ?
Ah! what ſoul-thrilling ſcene appears!
I ſee the column'd arches fail !
And ſtructures hoar, the boaſt of years!
What mould’ring piles decay'd
Gleam thro' the moon-ſtreak'd ſhade,
Where Rome's proud Genius rear'd her awful brow!
Sad monument !- Ambition near,
Rolls on the duſt and pours a tear ;
Pale
* Perſepolis,
.
22
ODES
C.
;
Pale Honour drops the Autt'ring plume,
And Conqueſt weeps o'er Cæſar's tomb,
Slow Patience fits with eye depreſt,
And Courage beats his ſobbing breaſt;
Ev’n War's red cheek the guſhing ſtreams o’erflow,
And Fancy's liſt'ning ear attends the plàint of Woe.
}
III. 3.
*
1
1
1
Lo on yon Pyramid ſublime,
Whence lies Old Egypt's deſert clime,
Bleak, naked, wild! where Ruin low’rs,
Mid' Fanes, and Wrecks, and tumbling tow’rs :
On the ſteep height waſte and bare,
Stands the Pow'r with hoary hair !
O’er His fcythe He bends ;--His hand
Slowly ſhakes the flowing fand,
While the Hours, an airy ring
Lightly flit with downy wing;
And fap the works of man ;—and ſhade
With ſilver'd locks his furrow'd head;
Thence rolls the mighty Pow'r His broad ſurvey,
And ſeals the Nations awful doom;
He ſees proud Grandeur's meteor-ray,
He yields to Joy the feſtive day;
Then ſweeps the length’ning ſhade, and marks them for
the tomb.
O DE
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O DE to SLEEP.
1.
.
*
WEET God of eaſe, whoſe opiate breath
Pour'd gently o’er the heaving breaſt
Steals like the ſolemn hand of Death;
And ſheds the balm of viſionary reſt;
Come with ev'ry pow'rfull ſpell
From the hermit's gloomy cell,
From the fsvallow's moſty bed,
When bleak Winter blaſts the mead;
Come with Night's cold, cloudy brow,
With ſky-rob’d Thought demure, and flow,
With Reſt that charms the drouſy air,
And folds the wakeful eyes of melancholy Care.
..
2. O
같
​ke
24
C.
O DE S,
2.
O by thy robe of pureſt white,
Thy treffes bound with fun’ral yew,
Thy voice that ſoothes the ear of night,
Thine ebon' rod that ſweeps the pearly dew;
By the pale moon's trembling beam,
By the ghoſts on Lethe's ſtream ;
By the ſilent ſolemn gloom,
By the beetle's drouſy hum,
By the zephyr's dying breath,
When ſleeps the ruffled wave beneath;
By the long voice of murm'ring ſeas,
Lull each repoſing ſenſe in calm oblivious eaſe.
RECITATIVE.
Pour on my ſoul the ſweetly melting lay,
That once on Argus could prevail ;
When ſooth'd by Hermes' wond'rous tale,
Each liſtning ſenſe diffolv'd and dy'd away:
Lulld by the magic doubling found,
Slow-ſtealing Slumber lock'd his iron breaſt;
His thoughts in ſweet delirium drown'd,
His falling arms the God confeft
;
On his numb'd ear remote and dull,
The hollow murmur feebly ſtole ;
2
O'era
O DE S,
&C.
25
O’erpower'd at laſt he yields the beauteous prize,
And drops ſupinely down, and folds an hundred eyes.
:
3
:
3.
Then too let bold-ey'd Fancy come,
With brightning look and boſon bare;
Her features Auſh'd with vivid bloom,
With flutt'ring wings, and looſely-flowing hair :
Then let all the burſting ſoul
Boldly dart from pole to pole ;
Starting from the airy ſteep,
Lightly ſkim the wavy deep;
Up the rough rock let me climb,
'Till thy ſtrong voice with note ſublime
Wakes, fires, and thrills with rapid ſtrains,
And leads the lighten'd mind to ſoft Elyſian plains.
4.
Yet then let no fantaſtic tale
;
No ruder thought diſturb the dream ;
But bear me to yon lonely dale,
Where weeps the willow o'er the murm'ring ſtream :
Or where in the bow'ry ſhade
Quiet leans her drooping head,
Where from yonder cave beneath
Sweeps the wild wind through the heath,
E
Or
26
O DES,
Or with notes that deeply move,
Wake all the tuneful ſoul of Love;
Let bright Lucinda's charms ariſe,
With all the dazzling flame, the lightning of her eyes.
RECITATIV E.
Then on the rapid wings of Fancy born,
Bold let me foar with ſteddy flight,
Where burſts the radiant blaze of light;
Or where Aurora ſheds the roſy morn:
Or lead me where the warbling Nine,
With flying fingers ſweep the melting lyre ;
There ſoothe with harmony divine,
Or nobly breathe celeſtial fire.
Or in the ſoft Idalian grove,
With all the Graces let me rove,
Where gay Anacreon haunts the genial bow'r,
And crowns the bluſhing nymph with ev'ry balmy flow'r.
5.
Oft too with Spencer let me tread
The fairy field where Una ſtrays;
Or loll in Pleaſure's flow'ry bed *,
Or burſt to heav’n in Milton's high-wrought lays.
Or on Ariel's airy wing,
Let me chaſe the young-ey'd Spring,
* See THOMSON's Caſtle of Indolence.
Where
0 D E $, C.
27
A
*
Where the powder'd cowſlips bloom,
Where the wild thyme breathes perfume :
Or with ſolemn ſteps, and fad,
Slow let me haunt the deepning ſhade,
Where Richard, thro' the opening ground
Beheld the white-robd Ghoft, and mark’d the guſhing
wound.
6.
Come, gentle God, with magic wand
Of pow'r to calm the ſoul of Care :
From Envy's graſp to looſe the brand,
Or lull th' envenom'd ſnakes that prompt Deſpair :
Bring the Viſion's airy ſhow,
Yews that wave o'er Lethe flow,
Glimm’ring beams; and taper blue,
Rod, that drops with Stygian dew;
Sloth, on down ſupinely laid,
And flow-ey'd Eaſe that droops the head,
Pale Languor wrapt in thoughtleſs gaze,
And wild Oblivion loft in Fancy's boundleſs maze.
RECITATIV E.
See Night's dun robe involves the pathleſs waſte !
Black clouds in heaps confus’dly thrown,
Roll awful o'er her gloomy throne :
While thro' the dark cave ſweeps the whiſtling blaſt:
Yon
E 2
t
$
28
O.DE
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Yon car by boding ravens led,
Bears the 'lone Goddeſs thro' the murky gloom;
Before ſlow Darkneſs breathes her ſhade,
And Reſt forſakes the yawning tomb.
Around at Mid-night's folemn noon,
Rapt Fancy gazes on the moon :
Care folds her arms, nor knows th' unpleaſing theme,
And Grief diffolving ſhares the ſweetly-foothing dream.
O DE
1
VE
A Walker de at fculpa
ODE to EVENING.
M
E E K Power! whoſe balmy-pinion'd gale
Steals o'er the flower-enamellid dale;
Whoſe voice in gentle whiſpers near
Oft' ſighs to Quiet's liſtening ear;
As on her downy couch at reſt,
By Thought's inſpiring viſions bleft
She ſits, with white-robed Silence nigh,
And muſing heaves her ſerious eye,
To mark the flow ſun’s glimmering ray,
To catch the laſt pale gleam of day ;
Or funk in ſweet repoſe, unknown
Lies on the wild hill's van alone;
And
30
O DE S,
SC.
;
And ſees thy gradual pencil flow
Along the heav'n-illumined bow.
Comé, Nymph demure, with mantle blue,
Thy treſſes bath'd in balny dew,
With ſtep ſmooth ſliding o'er the green,
The Graces breathing in thy mien
And thy veſture's gather'd fold
Girt with a zonë of circling 'gold;
And bring the harp, whoſe ſolemn ſtring
Dies to the wild wind's murmuring wing;
And the Nymph, whoſe eye
ſerene
Marks the calm, breathing woodland ſcene ;
Thought, mountain-ſage! who loves to climb,
And haunts the dark rock's ſummit dim;
Let Fancy falcon-wing'd be near :
And through the cloud-enveloped ſphere,
Where muſing roams Retirement hoar,
Lull’d by the torrent's diſtant roar;
O bid with trembling light to glow
The raven-plume that crowns his brow.
Lo, where thy meek-ey'd train attend !
Queen of the ſolemn thought deſcend !
O hide me in romantic bowers!
Or lead my ſtep to ruin'd towers !
Where gleaming thro' the chinky door
The pale ray gilds the moulder'd floor :
2
While
O DES &C.
31
While beneath the hallowed pile
Deep in the deſert ſhrieking ile
Rapt Contemplation ſtalks along,
And hears the flow clock's pealing tongue;
Or mid' the dun diſcoloured gloom,
Sits on fome Heroe's peaceful tomb,
Throws Life’s gay glittering robe aſide,
And tramples on the neck of Pride.
Oft ſhelter’d by the rambling ſprays,
Lead o'er the foreſt's winding maze;
Where through the mantling boughs, afar
Glimmers the ſilver-ſtreaming ſtar;
And, ſhower’d from every ruſtling blade
The looſe light floats along the ſhade :
So hovering o'er the human ſcene
Gay Pleaſure ſports with brow ſerene;
By Fancy beam'd, the glancing ray
Shoots, Alutters, gleams, and fleets away :
Unſettled, dubious, reſtleſs, blind,
Floats all the buſy buſtling mind;
While Memory's unſtain'd leaves retain
No trace from all th' ideal train.
But ſee the landſkip opening fair
Invites to breathe the purer air !
O when the cowſlip-ſcented gale
Shakes the light dew-drop o'er the dale,
When
32
OD
c.
E S,
When on her amber-dropping bed
Looſe Eaſe reclines her downy head;
How bleſt I by fairy-haunted ſtream
To melt in wild ecſtatic dream !
Die to the pictured wiſh, or hear
(Breathed ſoft on Fancy’s trembling ear)
Such lays, by angel-harps refined,
As half unchain the fluttering mind,
When on Life's edge it eyes the ſhore,
And all its pinions ſtretch to ſoar.
Lo, where the ſun's broad orb withdrawn
Skirts with pale gold the duſky lawn !
While led by every gentler power,
Steals the ſlow, folemn, muſing hour.
Now from the green hill's purple brow
Let me mark the ſcene below;
Where feebly-glancing thro' the gloom
Yon myrtle ſhades the filent tomb:
Not far, beneath the evening beam
The dark Lake rolls his azure ſtream,
Whoſe breaſt the ſwan’s white plumes divide,
Slow-failing o'er the floating tide.
Groves, meads, and ſpires, and foreſts bare
Shoot glimmering thro' the miſty air ;
Dim as the viſion-pictured bower
That gilds the ſaint's expiring hour,
2
When
OD S, &C.
33
!
When rapt to ecſtacy, his eye
Looks thro' the blue etherial ſky.
All heav'n unfolding to his ſight!
Gay forms that ſwim in foods of light i
The ſun-pav'd floor, the balmy clime,
The ruby-beaming dome ſublime,
The towers in glittering pomp diſplay'd;
The bright ſcene hovers o'er his bed.
He ſtarts :—but from his eager gaze
Black clouds obſcure the leſs'ning rays ;
On Memory ſtill the ſcene is wrought,
And lives in Fancy's featur'd thought.
On the airy mount reclin'd
What wiſhes foothe the muſing mind!
How ſoft the velvet lap of Spring!
How ſweet the Zephir's violet wing!
Goddeſs of the plaintive ſong,
That leads the melting heart along;
O bid thy voice of genial power
Reach Contemplation's lonely bower ;
And call the Sage with tranced fight
To climb the mountain's ſteepy height;
To wing the kindling wiſh, or ſpread
O’er Thought's pale cheek enlivening red;
Come hoary Power with ſerious eye,
Whoſe thought explores yon diſtant ſky;
F
Now
34
OD ES,
&C.
Now when the buſy world is ſtill,
Nor Paſſion tempts the wavering will,
When ſweeter hopes each power controul,
And Quiet whiſpers to the ſoul,
Now ſweep from Life th' illuſive train
That dance in Folly's dizzy brain :
Be Reaſon's ſimple draught pourtrayed,
Where blends alternate light and ſhade;
Bid dimpled Mirth, with thought belied,
Sport on the bubble's glittering fide;
Bid Hope purſue the diſtant boon,
And Frenzy watch the fading moon;
Paint Superſtition's ſtarting' eye,
And Wit that leers with geſture lly,
Let Cenſure whet her venomed dart,
And green-eyed Envy gnaw the heart;
Let Pleaſure lie on flowers reclined,
While Anguiſh aims her ſhaft behind.
Hail, Sire ſublime, whoſe hallow'd cave
Howls to the hoarſe deep’s daſhing wave;
Thee Solitude to Phæbús bore,
Far on the lone deſerted ſhore,
Where Orellano's ruſhing tide
Roars on the rock’s projected ſide.
Hence burſting o'er thy ripened mind,
Beams all the Father's thought refined :
3
Hence
:
O DE S, &C.
35
Hence oft in ſilent vales unſeen,
Thy footſteps prints the fairy green;
Or thy ſoul melts to ſtrains of woe,
That from the willow's quivering bough
Sweet warbling breathe ;--the Zephirs round
O’er Dee's ſmooth current waft the ſound,
When ſoft on bending ofiers laid
The broad ſun trembling thro' the bed;
All-wild thy heav'n-rapt Fancy ſtrays,
Led thro' the ſoul-diffolving maze,
Till Slumber downy-pinioned, near
Plants her ſtrong fetlocks on thy ear;
The ſoul unfetter'd burſts away,
And baſks enlarged in beamy day.
F 2
O. DE
36
&C.
O DE ,
S,
ODE to INNOCENCE.
'T
WAS when the flow-declining ray
Had ting’d the cloud with evening gold;
No warbler pour’d the melting lay,
No found diſturb’d the ſleeping fold.
When by a murmuring rill reclin’d
Sat wrapt in thought a wandering ſwain ;
Calm Peace compos'd his muſing mind;
And thus he rais’d the flowing ſtrain.
" Hail Innocence! celeſtial maid !
“ What joys thy bluſhing charms reveal !
« Sweet, as the arbour's cooling ſhade,
« And milder than the vernal gale..
« On Thee attends a radiant Quire,
Soft-ſmiling Peace, and downy Reſt;
“ With Love that prompts the warbling Lyre;.
“ And Hope that ſoothes the throbbing breaſt.
" O fent from heav'n to haunt the grove,
" Where ſquinting Envy ne'er can comel
« Nor
3
O DE S,
& C.
37
" Nor pines the cheek with luckleſs love,
“ Nor Anguiſh chills the living bloom.
“ But ſpotleſs Beauty rob’d in white
“ Sits on yon moſs-grown hill reclin'd;
« Serene as heav'n's unfully'd light,
" And pure as Delia's gentle mind.
“ Grant, heav'nly power! thy peaceful ſway
my ruder thoughts controul ;
Thy hand to point my dubious way,
" Thy voice to ſoothe the melting foul.
May ſtill
“ Far in the ſhady ſweet retreat
“ Let Thought beguile the lingering hour;
“ Let Quiet court the moſty ſeat,
" And twining olives form the bower.
“ Let dove-ey'd' Peace her wreath beſtow,
" And oft” ſit liſtening in the dale,
" While Night's ſweet warbler from the bough
«s. Tells to the grove her plaintive tale.
« Soft as in Delia's ſnowy breaſt,
“ Let each conſenting paſſion move;
“ Let Angels watch its filent reſt,
" And all its bliſsful dreams be. Love."
THE
Τ Η Ε
DAY of JUDGMENT
A
Ρ Ο
(1)
Μ.
In
TWO BOOK S.
Ουδ' αρ ετι Ζευς ισχεν έον μενG.--εκ δε τε σασαν
Φαινε βιην αμυδις δ'
αρ απ' ερανε ηδ' απ' ολυμπα
Αγραπίων εξειχε συνωχαδον οι δε
κεραυνοι
Ικαρ αμα βροντη τε και αςεροπη αθεοντο
ΧειρG» απο σιβαρης.-
-αμφι τε γαια φερεσβIG εσμαραγιζε
Καίομενη.
HESIOD. Theog.
等
​TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE
EARL OF FINDLATER AND SEAFIELD;
ETC. ETC.
THE FOLLOWING
Р О E
M,
RENDERED LESS INCORRECT,
AND IT IS HOPED,
NOT ALTOGETHER UNWORTHY
OF HIS PROTECTION,
IS,
WITH THE MOST PROFOUND RESPECT,
។
INSCRIBED
BY
HIS LORDSHI P's
MOST OBLIGED,
MOST OBEDIENT,
AND MOST HUMBLE SERVANT,
Aberdeen,
May 31, 1759.
J. OGILVIE.
G
$
{
T H E
P R E F A CE.
A
S POETRY in general, and particularly Rhyme,
is, of all others, that ſpecies of writing which lies
moſt open to criticiſm; a few blemiſhes (which are
ſometimes to be found even in the moſt correct pieces)
will be eaſily pardoned by a good-natured reader. Но-
race's rule in this caſe, is an admirable one :
Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine ; non ego paucis
Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit,
Aut humana parum cavit natura.
This will, I am perſuaded, be allowed, if it is conſider-
ed, that an improper allegory, a long period, a forced
expreſſion, nay a word and even a found too often re-
peated, is ſufficient (at leaſt with ſome people) to ſpoil
the beauty of a poem.
Reaſon decides principally on
the merit of other productions ; but, in this, one muſt
endeavour to pleaſe both the judgment and the ear. The
former are perhaps compoſed only for a few ſpeculative
men, who are unfaſhionable enough to read for inſtruction:
but the latter is univerſally peruſed; and it is ten to one,
but
every Reader is, or at leaſt will pretend to be, a Cri-
tic. A compoſition of this laſt kind, is, like a piece of
fine painting, in which the parts muſt be adjuſted with
the
G 2
PRE FACE.
the niceſt propriety; the colouring lively, but delicately
blended; and one diſproportioned feature, is enough to
make the whole ridiculous.
If then we ought to make ſuch ample allowances for
a poem, when it is compoſed on trivial ſubjects, and is
addreſſed only to the imagination, how much further
ſhould thoſe be extended, when its great aim is to touch
the heart! The difficulty of ſuch an undertaking, is cer-
tainly a powerful advocate in its favour ; but the deſign
itſelf, to a pious mind, muſt neceſſarily be an irreſiſtible
one.
The human heart, like a citadel ſurrounded with al-
moſt inacceſſible bulwarks, muſt (ere one can obtain ac-
ceſs to it) be attacked with the firmeſt intrepidity ; the
ſeveral avenues that lead to it diſcovered, and numberleſs
accidents ſurmounted in the way. A man muſt rouze
the conſcience, alarm the paſſions, captivate the imagina-
tion, and intereſt the judgment. There is perhaps no
ſubject, that affords a nobler fund of materials for effec-
tuating ſuch an end, than the general conflagration : a
ſubject, attended with this remarkable advantage, (which,
by the bye, is peculiar to Divine Poetry), that the moſt
elevated idea we can form of it, will fall infinitely ſhort
of reality. What expreſſion can paint with adequate
em-
P R E F A CE.
emphaſis the ſolemnities of this tremendous ſcene! when
the laſt trumpet ſhall proclaim, with a ſound dreadfully
audible, AWAKE YE DEAD AND COME TO JUDGMENT !
when miriads ſhall burſt from their once peaceful repofi-
tories, and hear an irrevocable ſentence pronounced by
their Creator! when “ a mighty angel (to uſe the lan-
guage of inſpiration), ſhall lift up his hand to heaven,
and ſwear by him that liveth for ever and ever, that there
ſhall be time no longer :” when the great Saviour of
men “ ſhall be ſeen coming in the clouds,” ſurrounded
with a triumphant company of ſuperior intelligences,
" and heaven and earth Ay away before him!” Then
only ſhall we know this tranfa&tion, when we make a
part
of the concourſe; then only ſhall we form juſt con-
ceptions of this almighty Judge, when we are ſummoned
to his tribunal !
As the following is one of the firſt eſſays of early
youth*; an impartial account of my deſign is the beſt
excuſe I can make for it.
Though, in the ancient poets, we may fometimes meet
with a few random thoughts, and undigeſted draughts of
the day of judgment; it will yet, I preſume, be allowed,
that the moſt elegant, beautiful, and particular detail of
it,
* The Poem was finiſhed at firſt before the Author was ſeventeen.
4
P R E F A CE.
it, is contained in the ſacred writings. The ſeveral cir-
cumſtances are there exhibited, in a manner ſo ſuited to
the majeſty of the ſubject, that (ſetting aſide their inſpi-
ration,) the glowing imagery which heightens their de-
ſcriptions, and their graceful fimplicity, both in expreſ-
fion and ſentiment, muſt be admired by every man of
taſte. I have endeavoured to ſhow the juſtice of this ob
fervation, in the following attempt, by pointing out a
few paſſages, which appeared remarkable to me for pe-
culiar delicacy; and beauties, which I will venture to
call inimitably fine: a deſign, that (ſo far as I know) has
been fully executed by any writer ; tho' the late
ingenious Mr. Philips intended to have done it, had not
death prevented him.
not yet
The beſt method I could recollect for adjuſting the
ſucceſſive incidents, is that I have fixed on, and pur-
ſued.
Though one may be ſtruck with an uncommon
thought, or judicious reflection ; it is yet certain, that
our imaginations are generally warmed, and the paſfions
riſe in proportion to our opinion of the perſons who tell
us a ſtory, and of the actors who are intereſted in it.
Upon this principle, I cannot help thinking, that my
ſubject appears with more advantage, when the author is
fup-
4
4
P R E F A CE.
fuppoſed a witneſs to every thing that paſſes, and is con-
ducted through the whole by a heavenly guide, than it
could poſſibly have done in a ſimple narration, however
ſmooth in diction, or animated in ſentiment.
After all, if any one ſhould think that a dream is no
proper medium for illuſtrating the moſt awful, and to
men the moſt intereſting ſcene that can be imagined ; I
deſire him either to fix on a better, or peruſe (if he
pleaſes) the ivth chapter of Job, where he will find the
moſt important truths communicated to Eliphaz in a
ſimilar form.
go
If I might recommend the few ſheets I have wrote on
this ſubject for any thing, it is their deſign; and this, I
am perſuaded, with a pious or judicious reader, will
a great way to excuſe their blemiſhes. If, however, they
ſhould excite ſome ſuperior genius to attempt the theme,
and deſcribe it to better purpoſe, I ſhall not only be fa-
tisfied, but even
-glory in the work I did not write. Univ. Pal. Sat. II.
Τ Η Ε
生
​世​。
能
​宇
​安
​ร์
4.
1991
LOS
SARA310
AM
***
The Day of Judgment.
Book. I.
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Then shook the fun, Store him from the Sky.
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SHIV
( 49 )
T H E
en 72
DA Y of JUDGMEN T.
BOOK I.
Ι
Circumfpice utrumque,
Fumat uterque polus.
Ovid. Metam.
CO
NOME, heav'nly muſe, my raptur'd ſoul inſpire,
Touch with one beam of thy celeſtial fire,
A ſoul, that riſing with ſublime delight
Leaves worlds behind in its aerial flight;
Mounts o'er the ſkies, unuſual heights to foar, 5
Where Young and angels only few before.
I leave unheeded ev'ry mortal care,
The victor's pomp, and all the ſcenes of war :
A nobler aim invites my ſong to riſe :
No praiſe I fing, but his who form’d the ſkies :
No ſcenes, but Nature's burning vaults diſplay'd;
No pow'r, but that which wakes the ſleeping dead.
H
IO
My
50 The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
My theme how vaſt! The ſun's extinguiſh'd rays ;
Ten thouſand ſtars in one devouring blaze ;
That doom, the guilty wretch muſt dread to hear ; 15
The laſt loud trump that ſtops the rolling ſphere;
The crouds that burſt from earth's diffolving frame ;
All Heaven deſcending, and a World on flame.
2 I
O Thou, whoſe hands the bolted thunder form,
Whoſe wings the whirlwind*, and whoſe breath the ſtorm:
Tremendous GOD! this wond’ring bofom raiſe,
And warm each thought that would attempt thy praiſe.
O! while I mount along th' etherial way,
To ſofter regions, and unclouded day,
Paſs the long tracks where darting lightnings glow, 25
Or trembling view the boiling deeps below;
Lead thro' the dubious maze, direct the whole,
Lend heav’nly aid to my tranſported ſoul,
Teach ev'ry nobler power to guide my tongue,
And touch the heart, while thou inſpir'ſt the ſong. 30
*TWAS
* Whoſe wings the whirlwind, &c.] thought, darts awaythrough the regi-
How inimitably beautiful is the ons of ſpace ;-an element, of whoſe
Pfalmiſt's deſcription of the Deity, ſwiftneſs the human mind can ſcarce
(Pl. civ. 3. where he is ſaid “ tó form an idea is yet avehicle fo infinite-
" walk on the wings of the wind!" An ly diſproportioned to its Creator, that
element which, with the rapidity of he only walks on its impetuous wings.
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
st
'Twas at the hour, when midnight Ghoſts aſſume
Some frightful ſhape, and ſweep along the gloom ;
When the pale Spectre burſts upon the view;
When Fancy paints the fading taper blue;
When ſmiling Virtue reſts, nor dreads a foe; 39
And Slumber ſhuts the weeping eyes of Woe:
'Twas then, amid the filence of the night,
A graceful Seraph ſtood before my fight,
And blaz’d meridian day,—the rocking ground
Flam'd as he mov'd, and totter'd as he frown'd.
As ſome vaft meteor, whoſe expanded glare
Shoots a long ſtream that brightens all the air,
So fam'd his burning eyes :-earth heard and ſhook
When from his lips theſe dreadful accents broke :
40
“ Now is that hour, when at th’ Almighty's call, 45
“ Surrounding flames ſhall melt the yielding ball;
“ When worlds muſt blaze amid the general fire,
« And ſuns and ſtars with all their hoſts expire.
« The long-delay'd, th' important day is come,
“ (All nature quake with terror at the doom.) 50
“ For which creation rofe ſupremely fair,
“ Each world was launch’d, and hung upon the air,
« O’er ſyſtem ſyſtem rolld, a ſhining throng,
<< And mov'd in ſilent harmony along,
66 That
H 2
!
52
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
“ That hour is come, when GOD himſelf ſhall riſe, 55
“ Sublime in wrath, and rend the burning ſkies;
“ Arreſt the boundleſs planets, as they roll,
“ And burſt the labouring earth froni pole to pole;
“ Bid hell's remote dominions hear and ſhake,
" While Nature ſinks, and all the dead awake." 60
Warm’d as he ſpoke, I felt th’enliv’ning ray;
Then loos’d from earth, triumphing foar'd away :
We mount at once, and, lighter than the wind,
Left, as we flew, the diſtant clouds behind.
Then far remov'd beheld th' abodes below,
And wait in deep ſuſpenſe th' impending blow.
65
Now o'er the brightning eaſt Aurora ſpread,
And ting'd the bluſhing cloud with morning red ;
The hill's proud ſummit caught the waving gleam :
The pale ray trembled on the quiv'ring ſtream; 70
Then opening gradual from the ſhades of night
The cloud-topt foreſt ſhone with dawning light,
Serene the beauteous landſcape roſe to view,
The mead's green mantle wet with ſpangling dew, 74
The gay-robd flow’rs that glow'd with heighten'd bloom,
And bow’ring dales, and groves that breath'd perfume,
So
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
53
1
85
So when the Tempeſt's ſweepy blaſt is o'er,
Nor burſts the ruſhing wind, nor prattling ſhow'r :
No hov’ring miſt obſcures th' emerging day,
Wide o'er the proſpect pours the ſtreamy ray;
80
A freſher cloud the dewy fields exhale,
With richer fragrance blows the balmy gale,
The echoing hills with louder notes rebound,
And all th' illumin’d landfcape rings around.
Charm’d and ſurpriz'd we ſaw the fair abode,
The plains with beauty's flow'ry offspring ſtrow'd,
Beheld the city's diſtant ſpires ariſe,
Or tow'r's dim top that touch'd the bending ſkies;
Or view'd the wild, with trackleſs paths o'ercaſt,
Where roams the lion thro' the naked waſte;
90
Or penſive, ey'd the folitary pile
Where Alits the night-bird thro the glimm’ring iſle :
Struck deep with woe, we mark'd the domes o’erthrown
Where once the Beauty bloom'd, the Warrior ſhone;
We faw Palmyra's mould’ring tow’rs decay'd, 95
The looſe wall tott’ring o'er the trembling ſhade !
Or fall’n Perſepolis that deſert lay!
Or Balbec's fanes that catch'd the quiv’ring ray!
Vain pomp of pow'r know in the throne of kings
Shrieks the 'lone owl, the raven ſhakes her wings. 100
THEN
54
Tue DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Then o'er the boundleſs deeps our eyes were rollid,
The waves all brightning flam'd with beamy gold.
Here mov'd in gradual rows the billows heave,
There on the rough rock foams the madning wave,
Or daſh the torrents down the cliff's ſteep ſide, IOS
Or thro' the cavern ſweeps the ruſhing tide;
We mark'd the river's long majeſtic train,
And ſtreams that murmur'd o'er the flow'ry plain,
The lake whoſe waves with lucid radiance glow,
Not finer tints impreſs the ſhow'ry bow,
The fountain bubbling thro' the moſs-clad hill,
And wand'ring wild the ſweetly-tinkling rill.
ΙΙο
IIS
Then o’er the champain's broider'd lawns we ſtray,
Where gaily warbling thrillid the wood-land lay,
Survey'd with rapture all th' inviting ſcene,
The vary'd landſcape, and the vivid green ;
A charming train of all the muſes themes,
Gay meads, and pointed rocks, and purling ſtreams ;
Hills, vales, and woods in ſweet diſorder ſpread,
And blooming fields in all their pomp diſplay’d.
Still at each look, (amid the countleſs ſtore)
We mark'd ſome feature unobſerv'd before;
As in the cheek with opening roſes warm,
Each piercing glance improves the growing charm.
THEN
I 20
4
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
55
Then fighing deep, diſtracted at the view, 125
" Adieu, I cry'd, ye bliſsful ſcenes adieu :
" That Sun muſt ceaſe to gild the flow'ry plain :
" The Moon be loſt with all the ſtarry train:
Plung’d in one fire, each mighty frame conſume,
« 'Tis God, th’ Eternal God has ſeald their doom.” 130
Lo! at the word (each tranſient ray withdrawn)
A low'ring cloud at once o'ercaſt the dawn :
From its dark breaſt, with ſwelling tempeſts ſtor’d;
Pale lightning faſh'd, and dreadful thunder roar’d.
Earth's glowing boſom felt a ſudden wound, 135
And ſtrong convulſions rent the opening ground;
The rapid Whirlwind with impetuous ſweep
Burſts from its vaults, and rais'd the labouring deep;
Rocks, cities, ſtreamis at once its wond'rous prey;
It ſwept the woods, and bore the hills
away.
140
Thus, when Olympus ſhook with loud alarms,
* When all th' angelick hofts appear’d in arms,
Each adverſe legion ſtood unmoy'd with fear,
Each God-like Cherub wav'd a flaming ſpear ;
Hills, foreſts, rocks their mutual rage ſupply, 145
They flung th' enormous mountains thro' the ſky,
From
* When all th' angelic hofts, &c.] See Milton's battle of the angels.
Book VI.
1
56
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Ý
From the deep earth th' exalted cedars tore,
And buried Nature in the wild uproar.
150
A
But now, with terror riſing on the ſight,
* A burning Comet Alaſh'd unuſal light.
Quick as the wind, the wing’d deſtruction came
O'er all the void, and drew a length of Alame;
Shap'd thro' the parting clouds its dreadful way,
And pour’d on earth intolerable day.
At once the cave its inmoſt void diſplays ;
The waving foreſts catch the ſpreading blaze;
The earth no more its central fire contains,
It rag'd and ſwell'd reſiſtleſs o'er the plains.
1
155
Now in a broader range the deluge raves,
And rolls triumphant thro’ the boiling waves ;
160
O'er
* A burning comet, &c.] That the all parts of the comets themſelves,
general conflagration will be effected and then making off to that which is
by the near approach of a comer to oppoſite to the ſun. It would ſeem
the ſun, is at leaſt a probable ſuppo- reaſonable from this to conclude, that
ſition ; and probability, in a ſubject the conflagration muſt neceſſarily be
of this kind, is the utmoſt that can be a conſequence of ſuppoſing the earth
expected. The atmoſphere of thoſe involved in this atmoſphere, if we
irregular bodies, which the learned take in the prodigious quantity of fire
have been ſo much puzzled to ac- lodged in its own cavities. --But is
count for), is, by the obſervations of not the account ſtill more credible,
the moſt curious, thought to conſiſt when we add to theſe the action of the
of a continual eMux of ſmoak, riſing fun, which in this conjunction will
at firſt to a determinate height from be doubly intenſe ?
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
57
O’er all the hills the riſing flames aſpire,
The Mountains blaze, a mighty ridge of fire!
Where ſtood the ſnow-crown'd Alps, (an awful name !)
Now rolld the doubling ſmoke, and ſpiry Aame;
While o'er the * Andes in a whirlwind driv'n
Burſt the blue gleam, and darkneſs wrapt the heav'n.
Ev’n Ætna rocks with a reluctant groan,
Sunk in a flame more dreadful than its own:
A fiery ſtream the deep Volcano pours,
And from its mouth inceffant thunder roars. 170
165
Each humbler vale partakes the gen'ral doon,
The ſmiling meads reſign their lovely bloom;
Not Aſia's fields th' impetuous flood retain,
It bounds with fury o'er the wide champaign.
Whate'er to view revolving ſeaſons bring,
175
Each opening flow'r, the painted child of Spring,
Bleak Winter's ſnow, with Summer's roſy pride,
And Autumn's ripening ſtores, augment the tide :
On its broad wave it bears the ſhining ſpoil,
Hills burſt, rocks melt, woods blaze, and oceans boil. 180
Such, man, thy life, when Death's relentleſs rage
Crops thy gay bloom, or chils thy with’ring Age;
I
In
* The Andes, &c.] A vaſt range of mountains which cover about a
thouſand leagues in South-America,
58 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
In vain thy wiſh would ſtop th' invader's pow'r,
Who ſpares the leaf to revel on the Aow's.
Ol how tranſported with a fleeting dream
185
We fondly launch, and glide along the ſtream!
Nor think of tempefts, mis’ry, pain, or death,
The ſtorms above us, and the wrecks beneath!
When lo! at once a cloudy ſcene ſucceeds,
It low’rs, frowns, blackens, bellows o'er our heads; 190
Bounds o'er the ſeas, and with deſtructive ſweep,
Flings wave on wave, and whelms us in the deep.
M
Where now the nation, whoſe controuling law,
Ruld ev'ry ſtate, and held a world in awe?
Say where, BRITANNIA, thy remoter plain?
195
Thy fields enrich'd with Plenty's welcome train ?
Thy fleets, to found their dreadful fame afar,
And rule the deep, the thunderbolts of war?
Still in my thought thy happier days detain'd,
When George, when Anna, when ELIZA reign'd; 200
I ſee, I hear the battle's wild alarms,
See trembling foes, and thy triumphant arms !
I ſee ſublime the floating navy riſe,
The pompous ſtreamers waving as ſhe flies !
I ſee the ſhudd'ring hoſts that round her fall, 205
The * haughty Spaniard here, and there f the Gaul.
I
* The baughty Spaniard bere, &c.]
and there the Gaul, &c.]
+
PHILIP II.
LEWIS XIV.
The DAY OF JUDGMENT. 59
210
I ſee great Bourbon fainting and diſmay'd,
And view the laurel blaſted on his head.
Ol while my Country's glory fires my lays,
How
my fond heart runs laviſh in her praiſe !
But ſee, 'tis Aled II urge, implore its ſtay,
In vain : the charming Viſion dies away;
The plains where once her ſhouting armies ſtood,
The ſtream's broad wave that bluſh'd with hoſtile blood,
Roll'd in the maſs of fire neglected lay,
215
And join'd th' involving cloud that hid the day.
220
All, all was loſt on earth's conſuming frame,
One gen’ral wreck, one undiſtinguiſh'd Aame:
To aid the fire BRITANNIA's domes combin'd,
Nor left one trace of all their pomp behind.
So when Old Earthquake burſting from the Pole,
Heaves the high mound, or ſhakes the tumbling mole;
His iſland-arm diſturbs the deeps around,
His voice like thunder rocks the labouring ground:
Then ſtands proud Teneriff's majeſtic brow,
And looks ſuperior o'er the wrecks below;
Burſts the broad field l-in wild confuſion ſpread
Hills, cities, rocks, fall thund’ring in the ſhade;
He bows, and tote’ring o'er the verging gloom,
Marks the ſtupendous waſte, and ſeeks the tomb. 230
225
I 2
Lol
60
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
235
Lo! there the graceful fabric now defac’d,
Wide ſwells the torrent thro' the burning waſte.
The lofty tow'r compleat in ev'ry part,
That ſtood (by millions rear’d) the boaſt of art;
• The firm, compacted wall, that long defy'd
Each battering ball that thunder'd on irs ſide;
Th' Ægyptian pyramid, majeſtic dome!
Where Kings exchang’d the ſcepter for the tomb;
The ſculptur'd braſs, the monumental ſtone,
In one promiſcuous heap were all o’erthrown,
Whate'er beneath the forming hand was wrought,
By labouring ages to perfection brought.
Now prone in duſt, to ſwell th' aſpiring flame,
Sunk its proud brow, and lay without a name.
240
:.
See earth's pale fons! a mighty throng appear ! 245
How wild their looks with agonizing fear !
Swift, as the hart, from her purſuing train,
Climbs the ſteep rock, and flies along the plain :
'Tis thus, the tempeſt's dreadful rage to ſhun, ,
They ſweep the field, and ſhiver as they run.
250
Here yawning gulphs their dreadful wrecks diſcloſe,
There nature labours with convulſive throws :
Here the flame burſts, and blazes to the ſkies,
There flaſh the pointed lightnings on their eyes.
Amaz'd,
4
The DAY OF JUDGMENT. 61
Amaz’d, aghaſt the trembling throng retire, 255
Eye the bright gleam, and mark the ſpeeding fire;
Hung on the ſteepy cliff, all wild with dread,
Heav'n's awful thunder rattles o'er their head !
The ſkies above with doubling roars rebound,
Below ſtrong Earthquakes rend the tott'ring ground. 260
'Tis noiſe around, 'tis chaos all beneath ;
One ſcene of Horror, Tumult, Rage and Death,
Burſts on their fight! the fatal word is paſt,
And panting Nature groans, and breathes her laſt.
265
So, when tempeſtuous at th' ETERNAL's word
The teeming ſkies a wat’ry deluge pour’d;
The vaſt Abyſs its mighty deep diſplay'd,
And the flood roſe o'er Atlas' towring head;
Some nation fell, in each augmented wave
Diffolv’d, and earth was one prodigious grave.
270
Mark where yon mines their radiant ſtores unfold,
Peru's rich duft, or Chili's beds of gold !
Inſidious Bane! that makes deſtruction ſmooth,
Thou foe to virtue, liberty, and truth!
Whoſe arts the fate of monarchies decide,
275
Who gild'ſt Deceit, the darling child of Pride!
How oft, allur’d by thy perſuaſive charms,
Have earth's contending powers appear’d in arms !
What
62
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
What nations brib'd have own'd thy pow'rful reign!
For thee what millions plow'd the ſtormy main ! 280
Travel'd from pole to pole with ceaſeleſs toil,
And felt their blood, alternate, freeze and boil.
See where a crowd thro' deſert Afric ſpreads,
The ſun's bright glories blazing o'er their heads !
See, where thro’ India's diſtant climes they pour ! 285
See countleſs throngs on Guinea's burning ſhore !
See waving foreſts fall to make them room !
See, ſcoop'd for wealth the rock's expanded womb!
See, each deep gloom admits the ſolar ray!
See, thro' the cavern burſts meridian day!
290
See earth, air, ocean, ſtorms, and thunders dar'd!
For what?-ſome pebble their immenſe reward!
Or bullion'd earth that ſets the breaſt on fire,
Or hoards that tempt th' inſatiate foul's deſire.
But now the mantling flames in concourſe join, 295
And deep deſcending ſeize the burning mine;
Its richeſt treaſures aid the mounting blaze,
'Twas all confuſion, tumult, and amaze.
When lol a cloud juſt opening on the view
Illum'd with dazzling light th' etherial blue !
On its broad breaſt a mighty Angel came,
His eyes were lightning, and his robes of Aame,
O'er
300
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
63
O'er all his form the circling glories run,
And his face lighten'd as the blazing ſun ;
His limbs with heav'n's aërial veſture glow, 305
And o'er his head was hung the ſweepy bow.
As ſhines the brightning ſteel's refulgent gleam,
When the ſmooth blade reflects the ſpangling beam,
Its light with quicken'd glance the eye ſurveys,
Green, gold, and vermeil, trembling as it plays; 310
So flam'd his wings along th' etherial road,
And earth's long ſhores reſounded as he trod.
Sublime he towr’dl keen Terror arm'd his eyes,
And graſp'd the redning bolt that rends the ſkies;
One foot ſtood firmly on th' extended plain 315
Secure, and one repeld the bounding main;
He ſhook his arm ;—the lightning burſt away,
Thro' heav'n's dark concave gleam'd the paly ray,
Roar'd the loud bolt tremendous, thro' the gloom,
And peals on peals prepare th' impending doom.
320
Then to his lips a mighty Trump apply'd,
(The flames were ceas’d, the mutt'ring thunders dy'd)
While all th' involving firmaments rebound
He rais'd his voice, and labour'd in the ſound :
Theſe dreadful words he ſpoke-,
325
“ Be dark, thou Sun, in one eternal night!
« And ceaſe, thou Moon, to rule with paler light I.
1
66 Ye
4
64
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
" Ye Planets, drop from theſe diffolving ſkies !
“ Rend; all ye Tombs; tand, all ye. Dead, ariſe !
“ Ye Winds, be ſtill; ye Tempeſts, rave no more! 330
" And roll, thou Deep, thy millions to the ſhore !
"! Earth, be diffoly'd, with all theſe worlds on high!
" And Time, be loſt in vaſt eternity!
1
+
“ Now, by Creation's dread tremendous Sire,
" Who ſweeps theſe ſtars as atoms, in his ire'; 335
“. By heav'n's omnipotent, unconquer'd King;
By him who rides the rapid whirlwind's wing ;
" Who reigns ſupreme in his auguſt abode,
« Forns, or confounds with one commanding nod; ..
" Who wraps in blackning clouds his awful brow, 340
" Whoſe Glance like lightning looks all nature thro':
" By Himn I ſwear !" (he paus'd, and bow'd, the head,
Then rais'd aloft his flaming hand, and faid) ::.. La
« Attend ye ſaints, who in ſeraphic lays
“ Exalt his name, but tremble while you praiſe : 345
“ Ye hoſts, that bow to your Almighty Lord;
« Hear, all his works, th' irrevocable word !
Thy reign, o Man, and Earth, i thy days are o’er !
" I ſwear by Him, that Time ſhall be no more,
He ſpoke : (all nature groan'd a loud replý;)
350
Then ſhook the Sun, and tore him from the ſky.
O!
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
65
O! would ſome angel's awful voice controul
Each drooping thought, and ſwell my riſing ſoul;
Would ſome deſcending ſeraph tune the lyre,
And warm my breaſt with more than mortal fire : 355
The ſcene I draw fublimer ſtrains would claim,
Ev'n thoſe might labour on ſo vaſt a theme !
But why for aid invok'd th' immortal throng?
Why call’d angelic fire to tune my tongue ?
I ſee each look diſtracted, terrify'd,
360
The harp untouch'd hangs idly by their ſide.
I ſee, I ſee omnipotence in arms,
Each boſom trembling at the ſhrill alarms !
I ſee the Sun fall thro' th’ etherial plains ;
The Moon's pale diſk a bloody tincture ftains : 365
The dreadful call each mightier orbit hears,
And worlds unhing'd come tumbling from their ſpheres.
What pomp, what terror, tumult, and amaze !
What crowds to view ! what wrecks to ſwell the blaze!
'What loud volcanoes roar! (ev'n fiends recoil) 370
What rocks to melt? what oceans yet to boil !
SHOULDST thou behold, in dreadful league combin'd,
At once great Ætna and Veſuvius join'd;
K
Two
3
385
66 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Two mighty rivals from their center rock,
Surround the deep, and hide the clouds in ſmoke: 375
Their burning bowels rent, and (dire to name !)
Ev’n ſuns extinguiſh'd in the ſpreading flame! :
Say, what is all, let fire, wind, waves prevail,
Compar'd to this 7-a feather, and a gale!
Rous’s from their ſleep unnumber'd myriads come,
All wak'd at once, and burft the yielding tomb: 381
O'er the broad deep the looſen'd members ſwim:
Each fweeping whirlwind bore the flying limb;
The living atoms, with peculiar care,
Whether they lurk’d, thro' ages undecay’d,
Deep in the rock, or cloth'd ſome ſmiling mead;
Or in the lily's ſnowy boſom grew;
Op ting'd the ſaphire with its lovely blue;
Or in fome purling ſtream refreſh'd the plains ; 390
Or form'd the mountain's adamantine veins;
Ori gaily ſporting in the breathing Spring,
Perfum’d the whiſp'ring Zephyr's balmy wing:
All
387. Whether they lurk’d, &c.]
Jam pulvis varias terræ diſperſa per Explicita eft; molem rurſus.coaleſcit in
Sive inter venas teneri cancreta me. Divifum funks, sportos priør alligat.
talli,
Senfin diriguit, feu feſe immiſcuit ber- Junctura, aptanturque iterum coeuntia
bis,
pras,
artus
membra.
Add. Reſurrec. delineat.
The DAY OF JUDGMENT. 6
All heard; and now, in fairer proſpect ſhown,
Limb clung to limb, and bone rejoin'd its bone :
395
Here ſtood, improv'd in ſtrength, the graceful frame,
There fow'd the circling blood, a purer ſtream:
The beaming eye its dazzling light reſumes;
Soft on the lip the tinctur'd ruby blooms;
The beating pulſe a keener ardor warms,
400
And beauty triumphs in immortal charms.
So when by RAPHAEL's happy pencil wrought
Some graceful figure' rofe, inform’d with thought,
Each part by turns the working hand pourtray'd,
Here caſt the light, and there diffus'd the ſhade; 405
A richer bloom each flying touch beſtow'd;
Now on the cheek a brighter vermeil glow'd:
Art in the piece with Nature ſeem'd to ſtrive,
And ev'ry bluſhing feature look”d alive.
What ſcenes appear, where'er I turn my eyes!: 410
How wide the throng! what forms innum'rous riſe !
Methinks I ſtill behold the teeming earth
Pour all at once her millions at a birth!
They ſtart with terror thro’ the opening ground,
Flames all beneath, and thunders all around, 415
What manly vigour reigns in ev'ry part,
Fires the broad breaſt, and-ſwells the bounding heart-
Not
K 2
.
68 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
I
Not earth’s-firſt-born a mightier concourſe ſtood,
Who towr'd like mountains, and o'erlook'd the wood;
Not He, who thro' oppofing legions broke, 420
Flung the rough ſtone, or heav'd th' unwieldy rock,
E’er felt fuch force, when from th' o'erwhelming blow,
Amaz’d and trembling run the frighted foe;
When, at each look, ſurpriz'd, and ſtruck with dread,
Whole hoſts retir'd, and wonder'd, as they fled.
425
1
:. Are theſe the forms, that languiſhingly fair,
Repin'd, and ficken'd at each breeze of air?
The tender frames, like fading roſes pale,
Whoſe leaves are ſhriveld by the ruffling gale ?
To death's deſtructive dart an eaſy prey,
That ſunk, and feebly ſigh'd the foul away?
430
1
€
This clouded ſcene attempt not to explore ;
Where Reaſon finks; 'twere madneſs then to foar :
Heav'n that to each the juſt proportion brought,
Here bounds the flight of vain bewilder'd Thought: 435
When Fancy plays within its proper ſphere,
It ſmiles, and ſhows th? unfully d object clear ;
When-
422. Flung the rouge, Store, &c.], racka &c.] AJAX: See his combat
Hector. See the Iliad, lib. 12. with Hector deſcribed, lib. viii. and
Ibid. -- beav'd tbt unwieldy: xiv.
3,
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
69
Whene'er from that the erring guide removes,
'Tis dark; all elfe but puzzles "not improves.
Thus, when ſome Indian, for the ſhining gem, 448
Tempts the rough ſea, or plunges in the ſtream;
The prize obtain'd, each cautious diver faves,
Who dives too deep, is bury'd in the waves.
Look round, my ſoul, o'er ev'ry ſcene below,
What millions riſe, diſtinguiſh'd by their woe! 445
See widows, orphans, mothers, infants
. Nlain,
A feeble, harmleſs, weeping, fainting train!
What crowds, extinct by an untimely doom,
Are torn from life in Youth's deluding bloom
A throng of mourners ſighing by their fide, 450
The hoary fire perhaps, and virgin bride;
The friend whoſe eyes with guſhing ſtreams o'erflow,
The mother pierc'd with agonizing woe.
*
Seel where the Shade, to ſtrike his gaſping prey,
Draws the keen dart, that never miſs'd its way; 455
Thron'd on the ruin of terreftial things,
He fits, and tramples on the duſt of kings.
See, his black chariot floats in ſtreams of gore,
Pale Rage behind, and Terror ſtrides before.
Not Beauty with’ring in the bloom of years, 460
Not dove-ey'd Innocence diffolv'd in tears,
Not
Š
1
70 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Not kneeling Love thạt trembles as it praye ,
Not heart-ſtruck Anguilh fix'd in ſtupid gaze l
Not all the frantic groans of wild Deſpair ;
Not helpleſs Age, that tears its filver hair ; 465
Can ſtay one moment the ſevere command,
Or wreſt th' aveşging dart from that relentleſs hand.
*
Here pauſe:-the crowds extended on the bier
Claim from the filial heart à parting tear;
Spend on the tomb where drooping grandeur lies, 470
One mournful burſt of ſympathiſing fighs.
$
O Death!, terrific 'ere thy dạct is try'd!
Whoſe hand o’erturns the tow'riog domes of Pride;
What wide deſtruction marks thy fatah reign !
What numbers bleed thro' all thy, valt domain! 475
Whether thy: arm, its dreadful ſtrength to ſhow,
Like Sampson's, ſweeps its. thouſand at a blow:
Or give the cannon's parting ball to fly,
Or wings the lightning glancing thro the ſky,
Qc burſts.the opening ground (whole fields deſtroy'd) 480
The city tumbling thro” the dreadful void!
If, in the fever, fạmine, plague, thou blaſt
Th' unpeopled earth, and lay the nations waſte;
Tho' all her ſons the victims:of thy pow'r,
Her
, ſons, that fall by millions in an hour.; 485
Yet
}
1
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
7I
Yet know, ſhould all thy terrors ſtánd diſplay'd,
'Tis but the meaner ſoul that ſhrinks with dread :
That ſolemn ſcene the ſuppliant captive mourns ;
That ſcene, intrepid Virtue views, and ſcorns.
OL
Thine, Virtuel thine is each perſuaſive charm, 490
Thine ev'ry ſoul with heav'nly raptures warm;
Thine all the bliſs that Innocence beſtows,
And thine the heart that feels another's woes.
What tho’ thy train, neglected, or unknown,
Have fought the ſilent vale; and figh'd alone ? 495
Tho' torrents ſtream'd from ev'ry melting eye?
Tho' from each bolom burſt th' unpity'd figh?
Tho' oft, with life's diſtracting cares oppreſt;
They long’d to ſleep in everlaſting reſt?
O envy'd miſery lm-what ſoft delight
500.
Breath'd on the mind, and ſinooth'd the gloom of night :
When nobler proſpects, an eternal traini,
Made rapture glow in ev'ry bearing vein ;
When heav’n’s bright domes the ſmiling' eye furvey’d,
And Joys that bloom'd inoré fweetly from the fhade. 505
Now all appear'd aſcending from the tomb,
Who breath'd the air, er flumber'd in the womb :
The crowds that live in all th' unbounded ſkies,
Now rais’d the trembling head with wild ſurprize:
Stars
1
72
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Stars with their num'rous fons augment the throng, 510
Each world's majeſtic offspring towr'd along:
Thick, as the burning ſun's meridian rays,
The hov’ring inſects baſking in the blaze ;
The ſwarms that flutter, when the day's withdrawn;
The throng that riſes with the riſing dawn;
515
The world ſupported by Jehovah's care,
And all the race that peoples all the air,
Rang’d on a field by labouring angels rear'd,
In dreadful length th' innum'rous throng appear’d:
Earth's nobleft fons, the mighty wretched things, 520
Calld Heroes, Conſuls, Ceſars, Judges, Kings,
Now ſwelld the crowd, promiſcuous and unknown,
The meaneft ſlave from him who fill'd a throne :
Each tyrant now would bleſs the yawning tomb,
And Pride ſtands ſhudd'ring at th’approaching doom. 525
THINK you beheld ten thouſand armies ſtand,
All form'd, and rais'd by fome divine command;
Saw where the giants burft their dark abode,
While the tomb labour'd with th' unuſual load.
Let
811. Stars with their fons, &c.] I in the ſame deſtruction) are only a
cannot ſee any reaſon for confining vaſt collection of uncultivated de-
the general judgment to the inhabi- ferts: a ſuppoſition founded on no-
tants of our own world; unleſs we thing but this one argument, viz.
can bring ourſelves to believe, that that it cannot be confuted by ocular
all thoſe around us (which will ſhare demonſtration.
:
The DAY OF JUDGMENT. :73
.
.
..
.
Let Theſeus, Samſon, tow'r upon the pliin, 530
With ſtern Achilles, from a field of lain :
Let Rome's and Greece' triumphant ſons appear,
A Ceſar there, an Alexander here :
Her ſplendid multitudes let Perſia join,
Thy ſwarıns, Thermopylæ, and, Illus, chine. 535
See Cannæ tainted with a purple flood,
And great Pharfalia's fields that ſtream with blood :
Extend the view :-Sce god-like Trajan's pow'r :
Th' intrepid chief proceeds from ſhore to ſhore,
Flicson the foe, and paints the reeking field with gore! :540.)
Lo! next a throng of wild Barbarians come,
The crowds that triumph'd o'er imperial Rome:
See, like a cloud that gathers on the day,
Th'embattled ſquadrons ſhape their dreadful way:
Prodigious hoſts! who (all their foes o'erthrown)
545
Once rul'd ſupreme, and made a world their own :
Next Aſia's millions fill th' extended ſpace,
Known from the reſt, a ſoft, unmanly race;
While there, (each boſom rough with many a ſcar)
Stand Afric's troops, the ſtormy ſons of war, 550
COLUMBUS? world, a wide innum'rous throng,
Swells on the ſtraining ſight, and pours along,
Bleſt rácel ere Diſcord ſnatch'd the gleaming ſhield,
Ere War tremendous thunderd o'er, the field,
L
Erc
74 The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Ere Freedom ranging o'er Peruvian plains ; 555
Mark'd their dire waſte, and heard the clanking chains:
At once dim Sorrow veil'd her ſhining eyes,
She ſpread her dazzling plumes, and ey'd the ſkies;
Guilt, Rage, and Death, terrific ſhapes ! appear,
The diſtant tumult murmur'd on her ear; 560
She figh'd ;--and mounting on the glancing ray,
Shot o'er the ſcene, and fought the climes of day.
1
Now rouz'd to life th' aſſembled myriads trod,
No tyrant o'er them ſhakes th' avenging rod; 564
'Tis Conſcience ſpeaks !-th' impartial mandate giv'n
Conſigns to Death, or opes the climes of heav'n;
Her looks divine the fever'd thought controul,
Her voice like muſic thrills th' enraptur'd ſoul.
But ſee, where riſing, a reſplendent throng,
Thy fons, Europa, claim a nobler fong!
570.
Lo! Britain's heroes burſt upon the ſight,
Each chief who dar’d th’ exulting foe to fight !
View the wide fields, where fainting armies bled !
See Blenheims, Cressi's, AGINCOURTS diſplay'd!
War, blood, deſtruction, triumphs, conqueſts riſe, 575
And kings, and patriots bleſs th' enraptur'd eyes!
Let Gallia next her num'rous hoſts unfold,
The crowds ſhe rais’d by force, or won by gold :
Think
3
The DAY OP JUDGMENT.
175
Think you beheld th' united armies ſpread,
And all the crowds Turenne, or Conde led;
By Charles' unguided rage the throng that dy'd;
The millions murder'd for her Bourbon's pride.
580
Join all at once, or (if the thoughts can foar
So vaſt a height) yet add ten thouſands more!
Say when thy ſoul its laſt idea brought,
585
Stretch'd o'er the verge of ſtrong expanded Thought?
When all th' unbounded Genius foar'd on high,
Did e'er ſuch numbers ſtrike the wond'ring eye?
So vaſt, they mock the ſoul's confounded light:
Ev'n thought falls back in its unequal Alight | 590
Not tempting Hope the mighty depth can ſound,
Nor Fancy's widening ken can mark the bound.
Yet, mid' the crowd that pour’d o'er all the field,
A crowd which ſcarce the labouring eye beheld I
Ye monarchs, hear |--this pomp of nations join'd, 595
Theſe
ages, empires, kingdoms, ſtates combin'd,
Theſe boaſted thouſands, millions, myriads,--all
Shrunk to a point unmeaſurably ſmall !
Scarce, when a group of buzzing flies diſplay
Their forms, that glitter with the glancing ray ; 600
Scarce lefs obſerv’d, mid' all the numbers there,
One flitting wing that feebly fans the air !
ETER-
582. By CHARLES', &c.] CHARLES IX. at the maſſacre of Paris.
L 2
76
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
605
ETERNAL GOD, whoſe word fupremely wiſe
Can cruſh, or people all th' expanded ſkies!
Who bid' ſt Creation wait on thy command,
Throw'ſt worlds like atoms from thy forming hand !
O! for ſome nobler, more exalted lays,
Some heav'nly ſtrains, to ſpeak thy boundleſs praiſe !
All Fancy droops on this tranſporting ſcene !
All Rapture dulll all Elegance is mean!
610
All Thought too faint! all Colours ceaſe to glow!
All Fire too languid ! all Sublime too low!
O Thou, whoſe name all nature joins to raiſe !
What ſeraph's voice can tell thy wondrous ways!
Who ſhow'd (how god-like was th' amazing planl) 615
Thy pow'r on angels, but thy love to man!
Thy pow'r, thy love, when uncontrould and free,
Cruſh'd all their hoſts, O man! and ranſom’d thee.
But ſtay, my muſe, be ſilent and admire ;
This lofty theme exceeds angelic fire !
620
Mark what new ſcene thy rapid glance deſcrys!
What ſudden radiance flaſhes o'er the ſkies !
From heav’n’s vaſt heights th' immortal throng deſcend;
The worlds below in mute ſuſpenſe attend :
Thro' all its tracts thy mighty theme purſue,
625
And paint the ſcenes that burſt upon thy view.
Now
3
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
77
Now, touch'd with grief, the penſive guide ſurvey'd
Whate'er of grand this awful pomp diſplay'd;
Then rais’d in ſilent woe his mournful eyes,
And paus'd, -till thus with intermingling ſighs: 630
“ Say where, vain mortall now the pomp of ffate?
“ The pride of kings, the triumphs of the great ?
" Where now th' imbattled hoſt, the whirling car ?
" Where the proud ſpoils of deſolating War ?
Hope's flatt’ring wiſh, Ambition's tow’ring aim ? 635
r. The boaſt of Grandeur, and the wreaths of Fame ?
“ Where the gay plan by Fancy's hand refin’d,
" That ſmil'd illuſive on th' enchanted mind?
" Ah! view'd no more, theſe beauteous traits decay,
“ Like ſtars that fade before the riſing day! 640
« Leſs ſwift the gale that ſkims the ruffling ſtream,
« Nor Alies more quick the viſionary dream.
“ Hail, heav’nly Piety, ſupremely fair !
" Whoſe ſmiles can calm the horrors of deſpair ;
" Bid in each breaſt unuſual tranſports flow,
“ And wipe the tears that ſtain the cheek of Woe:
« How bleft the man who leaves each meaner ſcene,
“ Like thee, exalted, ſmiling, and ſerene !
" Whoſe riſing ſoul purſues a nobler flight;
“ Whoſe boſom melts with more refin'd delight; 650
Whole
645
78 The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
" Whoſe thoughts, elate with tranſports all ſublime,
" Can ſoar at once beyond the views of time:
« Till loos’d from earth, as angels unconfin'd,
" He flies aërial on the darting wind;
“ Free as the keen-ey'd eagle, bears away, ,
" And mounts the regions of eternal day.”
655
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The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
79
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Β Ο Ο Κ
II.
προσεφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζευς. .
HOM.
NCE more, O muſe, th’ALMIGHTY's pow'r pro-
O
claim;
Once more, tho' trembling, try th' exalted theme:
A theme, the labour of ſeraphic lays,
While heav’n’s majeſtic arches ring with praiſe ;
That rais'd at once by all th’immortal choir,
5
Dwells on the warbling voice, and ſtrings the tuneful lyre.
5
O 1 if receiv'd amid the vocal throng,
Saints, angels, men, that join the gen’ral ſong,
If, mid' each heav'nly foul's ſublimer ſtrain,
Theſe humbler lays ſome diſtant place obtain,
(T'hat boaſt no beauties from improving art,
But feebly breathe the raptures of the heart ;)
How bleft l-ifthou, Great GOD, th’attempt ſhould own,
Or view the meaneſt off’ring at thy throne.
Now
80
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
20
Now thro’ the crowd in dark ſuſpenſe detain's 15
An awful, deep, portentous Silence reign'd:
Pale Conſcience lowring works a ſtorm within,
Recalls the hours, and paints th’ unguarded fin;
Throws all the maſques of ſhudd'ring Guilt aſide,
And bares the front of Envy, Rage, and Pride.
Ev’n Virtue figh’d, -but Hope (an angel-dame!)
O'er all her boſom pour’d celeſtial flame,
Diſpeld the hov’ring miſt that veil'd her eyes,
And ſhow'd afar the bright immortal Prize.
As when at once aſſembled nations wait
25
Some great event, fome dubious birth of fate;
All ſtand (with dreadful expectation warm’d)
Depreſs’d, enraptur’d, frighted, or alarm'd;
The opening ſcene each wond’ring thought employs,
And wild Amazement ſtops the trembling voice :
Such, but far more, th' unbounded throng appears,
While nobler hopes, or more diſtracting fears
Flam'd in each look, they felt a deeper care,
And knew th' extremes of rapture, and deſpair.
9
30
How vaſt the prize each ſmiling faint ſurvey'd ! 35
While heav'n's tranſcendent glories ſtood diſplay'd!
The brightning eye beheld each fair abode;
The throbbing breaſt with more than tranſport glow'd :
But
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
81
But oh! no words, no image can expreſs,
The fine delight, the flow of melting bliſs,
40
The ſoft emotions thrilling thro' the whole,
The ſecret ſprings that touch'd the feeling ſoul,
When mid' the ſkies each blooming ſcene was view'd,
Eternal day! a ſun without a cloud !
Surrounding pleaſures, boundleſs as refin'd !
45
'Twas Fancy's food, the muſic of the mind !
at
On fay! tranſporting thought I can heaven beſtow
Such endleſs proſpects for ſome Years of woe ?
Are theſe the joys for fav’rite ſouls prepar'd?
Neglected Piety's ſublime reward?
50
The opening treaſures in eternal ſtore,
T'enrich the mean, the ſuff'ring, and the poor?
O wond'rous bliſs, too vaſt for mortal's ſenſe !
Amazing love! divine benevolence !
Let heav'nly harps th' immortal anthem raiſe, 55
And wond'ring angels pour the ſong of praiſe.
Ye who the tempeſt's burſting rage ſuſtain,
Tofs'd by the whirling wind or ſtormy main !
Who coolly-calm behold the dark’ning hour,
Upheld by Him who gives the ſtorm its pow'r,
Who ſtand ſuperior in th' important ſtrife,
Or patient climb the rough’ning ſteep of Life;
M
60
Yet
82
THE DÍA Y OF JUDGMENT.
6.5
Yet bear the ſhock:-for lo th' advancing ſhoré !
Soon the black cloud, the wintry blaſt is o'er !
See
yon gay feeries emerging from the gloom :
See flow'ry meads that breathe eternal bloom!
See beck’ning angels point your ſteps away!
See pour’d o'er all the radiant blaze of day!
Soon as the 'mortal veil is dropt behind,
To heav'n all-ardent fprings th’ exulting mind,
Nor knows (illumin’d with celeſtial light)
Where once it wander'd mid' th' involving night,
Where thiro' the vale all-trackleſs and unknown
It paſs’d, and trod the devious wild alone.
Where Darkneſs o’er the gloomy region ſpread,
And Virtue trembling ſtood, or walk'd with dread.
70
75
Then when th' Eternal bids the tempeſt ceaſe,
When drops the mould’ring duſt, and ſleeps in peace;
Then Faith no more ſhall point th' uncertain prize,
Nor lowring clouds obſcure the brightning ſkies, 80
Nor Hope's warm wiſh with thrilling ardor glow,
Nor Virtue languiſh in th' abodes of woe,
Nor Care ſtray muſing thro’ the wildring maze,
Nor heav'n-rapt Thought diffolve in eager gaze;
But o'er the clime immortal Beauty reigns,
Young Pleaſure ſports along th' aërial plains,
Each ſpring of joy celeſtial ſtrains improve,
And all the impaſſion'd ſoul is loſt in love.
BUT
85
S
3
The DAY OF JUDGMENT. 83
100
But mark that throng; what keen, deſtructive ſmart,
What piercing Anguilh ſtings the tortur'd heart!
90
While Pain's fell brood in dreadful concourſe join'd,
Fear, Rage, and Guilt, diſtract the madning mind;
The gentler calm, the hours of mercy fled,
At laſt ſlow Vengeance rears its gorgon head,
No time remains to eaſe the Autt'ring breaſt ! 95
No friend to ſoothe the racking thought to reſt !
No ſhade to ſkreen from heav'n's impending doom !
No hope to ſleep in yon diffolving tomb !
'Tis paſt !--and lo the blackning clouds appear !
Involving darkneſs
wraps
the boundleſs ſphere !
While thro' the gloom juſt darting on their eyes,
The laſt pale beam ſhoots, trembles, fades, and dies.
Ah! hopeleſs train |—what madneſs to engage !
To rouze (poor wretch!) Omnipotence to rage !
Why dar'd you ſport, and dally with a God? 105
Why ſpurn'd his mercies? why contemn'd his rod?
Why ſcorn'd his wrath, deſpis'd each milder call ?
And forc'd from heav'n th' avenging rod to fall ?
O blind to fate, who, with unguarded haſte,
Would fondly judge the future by the paſt !
Who once, (deluded with an airy name)
Flew ſmooth, tho' quick, o'er time's deceitful ſtream;
Who, when th' enchanting Pleaſure roſe in view,
Thought, vainly thought, 'twould be immortal too.
Life!
IIO
M 2
84 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
I15
Life! 'tis the glance of ſome uncertain ray
A ſhadowy thing, that ſmiles, and glides away,
A clouded landſcape, an amuſing tale,
A Aeeting thought, a momentary gale,
A dream, which ſcarce the waking ſoul retains,
And oft the rack, where virtue bleeds in chains.
I 20
But now 'twas o'er :-for from his great abode
Full on a whirlwind came the dreadful GOD:
The Tempeſt's rattling wings, the fiery car,
Ten thouſand hoſts, his miniſters of war,
The flaming Cherubim attend his flight,
125
And heav'n's foundations groan'd beneath their weight:
Thro' all the ſkies his forky lightnings play'd,
With radiant ſplendor glow'd his beamy head :
From his bright eyes the trembling throng retire;
He ſpoke in thunder, and he breath'd in fire ;
130
He ſtood, -o’er all the boundleſs glory ſhone,
Then call’d, and darkneſs form’d his gloomy throne;
Black
121.-for from bis great abode,&c.] 132. And darkneſs form'd bis gloomy
If the reader would ſee a ſcene of this throne.] I cannot help looking on
kind drawn in the richeſt colours of the following paſſage from the xviiita
poetical painting, animated with a pſalm, as the nobleſt ſentiment
ſurpriſing ſublimity of ſentiment, and haps that ever entered into the mind
enriched with a profuſion of the moſt of man.
of man. The pſalmiſt is deſcribing
exquiſite beauties, he will find it in the deſcent of the Almighty. 'Tis
the words of an inſpired orator, Hab.ſaid, “ He bowed the heavens, and
iii, from the 3° verſe.
came down, and darkneſs was un-
per-
" des
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
85
135
Black clouds hung awful round the burſting ray,
And veil'd from fight th' intolerable day.
So when (elate his glorious courſe to run)
O’er heav’n’s blue region flames the blazing ſun;
The lucid ſtream o’erpow'rs the orbs of ſight,
The ſlack nerve trembling in the food of light.
Should then ſome cloud his keener rays conceal,
He glows leſs dazzling thro' the filmy veil ;
140
His
1
ones.
" der his feet, and he rode upon a
"Dark with excellive bright."
“ cherub, and did fly, &c. He made
“ darkneſs his ſecret place : his pa-
The ſubſequent verſe, by an ele-
« vilion round about him, were dark
« waters and thick clouds of the heighten the beauty of the preceding
gant antitheſis, ſeems (if poſſible) to
" ſkies.” Homer's veDennyegeta Zeus
" At the brightneſs which was
makes a noble figure in the Iliad.
“ before him, his thick clouds par-
He introduces him always in a man-
« fed,' &C.----- STERNHOLD and
ner peculiarly graceful, and ſeems even Hopkins have given ſo uncommon
to riſe above himſelf in the deſcrip-
tion. The lines from Hesiod, pre- that I muſt be excuſed for tranſcri-
a turn to one part of this deſcription,
fixed as a motto co the title-page, are
bing ice
no way inferior to any thing of this
kind I have met with in the writings The Lord deſcended from above,
of antiquity. VIRGIL has ſome fine And bow'd ibe beavens high;
pourtraits on the fame ſubject, ani- And underneath his feet be ſpread
mated with all the warmth of fertile
The darkneſs of the sky.
and copious imagination. But where, On cherub, and on ſeraphim,
among all theſe do we find the Deity
Full royally be rode;
• bowing the heavens in his deſcent, And, on the wings of all the winds,
“ riding on a cherub, walking on
Came flying all abroad.
“ darkneſs, forming his pavilion of
" the thick clouds of the ſkies, and Every unprejudiced reader will ſee,
appearing, (to give it in Mile how much, in this inſtance, infpira-
“ TON's inimitable paraphraſe), tion is ſuperior to enthuſiaſm.
86 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT,
His beanis abſorb'd their piercing heat detain,
And gentler radiance gilds the flow'ry plain.
Now, man, if e'er, (this awful ſcene ſurvey'd,)
Thy ſoul ſtood trembling with unuſual dread;
If e'er Deſpair could touch thy throbbing heart; 145
If e'er thou ſhook'ſt at death's approaching dart;
If, in ſome fight, thy pitying foul beheld
A murder'd hoſt lie gaſping on the field;
While ev'ry boſom pour’d a purple flood,
149
Wound following wound, and blood ſucceeding blood:
Attend an ampler ſcene !--more dreadful far i
See, GOD deſcends, with millions at his bar!
Lol the wide field, where thouſands in deſpair,
Would ſmile at death, and hug the mangling ſpear;
Where, fir'd with rage too big to be expreft,
155
They'd bleſs the reeking blade that tore their breaſt :
0! with what joy ſome mortal wound they'd feel!
With what delight they'd claſp the pointed ſteel!
Hung on the ſmarting rack, or ſtretch'd upon the wheel!)
Bleſt, were ſome mountain, at th' Eternal's call, 160
Whirl'd from its baſe, to cruſh them in the fall;
Would heav’n’s great Sov’reign hear their only pray'r,
To ſtrew their limbs, like atoms, in the air;
Would fome devouring flame their duſt conſume,
Or deep Volcano hide them in its womb: 165
With
.
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
87
With their laſt breath they'd praiſe Jehovah's name,
And bleſs their dreadful ſentence in the flame.
But ah'tis all in vain
#1
开
​Where am I rapt?—ſay, is the judgment come,
Is this the hour for man's immortal doom?
170
Is then the mighty Judge already nigh?
Are theſe his banners waving in the ſky?
Support me, heav'n kI ſhudder with affright;
I quake, I ſink with terror at the fight :
Still, ſtill methinks, I ſee the God appear ; 175
Still burſts the trump, like thunder, on my ear ;
Still glows the ſcene :-0! may it ne'er depart,
But warm each thought, and burn within my heart;
Woo this young breaſt to ſeek ſome fairer clime,
And raiſe the ſoul with pleaſures all ſublime. 180
Then, at that hour, when ſwifter than the ſhade,
Time, Life, and Youth, and Pomp, and Beauty fade,
Ten thouſand bliſsful ſcenes ſhall charm the mind,
More ſweet than life, than beauty more refin’d;
Where heav'nly Youth ſhall ev'ry ſmile reſume,
185
And on its cheek eternal roſes bloom.
Say, do'ſt thou long to reach yon diſtant ſky?
Flames ev'ry paſſion ? does thy pulſe beat high?
Do't
88 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
200
Do'ſt thou with tranſport view that ſparkling crown ?
Does thy ſoul tremble at thy Maker's frown?
190
O! think, the mighty prize will ne'er be bought
By one briſk ſtart, or tranſient flaſh of thought:
'Tis not the blaze of thy uncertain fire,
The wild, looſe fally of ſome keen Deſire ;
Each darting impulſe, rapid as the flood,
195
Or boiling ferment of the tainted blood :
Can theſe with awful Juſtice e'er prevail,
That weighs each thought in its impartial ſcale ?
No:-'tis a work that grows upon the fight,
'Tis god-like Virtue's regular delight :
Th’intrepid ſoul by paſſion ne'er alarm’d,
Improv'd by judgment, as by fancy warm’d;
Whoſe zeal with Reaſon's rigid dictate forts,
Glows, but not blazes, warms, but not tranſports ;
Whoſe conduct, ſquar’d by ev'ry noble rule, 205
Forms one proportion'd, juſt, conſiſtent whole :
Tis he who does whate'er à mortal can,
Yet fees defects, and thinks himſelf-a man;
Who, what he wants, or ought not to have done,
Nor ſcorns to know, nor e’er will bluſh to own;
Who knows how weak the aids from virtue brought,
When Vice, ſweet firen! lulls the wav’ring thought,
When ſmoothi Deceit, in Beauty's robes array'd,
Tempts the bold Wilh along the flow'ry mead :
When
210
3
The DAY OF JUDGMENT
89
When keen Temptation prompts the heart to ſtraý, -215
And the warm tumult melts the ſoul away :
Who then from heav'n awaits directing light,
And ſtands unſhaken in ſuperior might:
This, this is he, who in ſerene repoſe
Can coolly ſmile at earth's convulſive throws;
And, led by angels to their ſoft abode,
Can feel that bliſs th' ALMIGHTY now beſtow'd.
220
With eyes
O’er all the crowd he took one vaſt ſurvey,
that view the darkneſs, as the day.
Each deep deſign, tho' hid behind a cloud, 225
With ſecret acts, a countleſs multitude,
Whate'er beneath that conſcious ſun was wrought,
He knew, and weigh'd in one prodigious thought.
Thus, (if the muſe that dwells on heav'nly themes,
May ſtoop to earth, and join two wide extremes) 230
When ſome great gen’ral, with preventive care,
In vaſt idea plans the future war ;
N
Here
224. —-view the darkneſs, &c.] ¥. 11. “ If I ſay, the darkneſs ſhall
This alludes to that inimitable de-
" cover me, even the night ſhall be
ſcription of the Deity's omnipreſence, light about me:" a thought, to
Pſal.cxxxix; in which, after taking a which the antitheſis gives ſuch
реси- .
beautiful ſurvey of every thing in na- liar elegance, as may make it vye
ture that can ſtrengthen his argu- with the moſt expreſſive touches of
ment, (for which the reader may con- antient, or modern poetry.
fult Mr. Hervey's fine paraphraſe, 231. When ſome great gen'ral, &c.]
Med. vol. ii. p. 15. and 34.) he adds, This paſſage may poſſibly appear
with
!
go
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT
Here fwells a thought that ſees whole ſquadrons flain,
That plants the murd'ring cannon on the plain :
Now in his mind the coming triumphs riſe ; 235
He ſmiles, the pleaſure ſparkles in his eyes ;
He feels with joy his raptur'd bofom glow,
Yet ſighs with manly pity o'er the foe.
Ol what black ſcenes that dreadful moment came,
What guilt that Virtue bluſhes but to name! 240
Crimes that ne'er ſhrunk at their approaching doom,
That deep’ned midnight’s all-furrounding gloom,
Now
caſt;
with more advantage, when com The mighty Scheme of all bis labours
pared with Lucan's deſcription of
CÆSAR, at his approach to the Ru Forming the wondrous year within
bicon:
bis thought,
His bofom glow'd with battles yet
Jamque gelidas Cæfar curſu fupera-
unfought.
verat Alpes,
Ingenteſque animo motus, bellumque 242. That deep'ned, &c.] I can-
futurum
not reſiſt the pleaſure of tranſcribing
Ceperat, ut ventum eſt parvi Rubi- the following paffage from Paradiſe
conis, ad undas.
Loft, as it is full of that "lively and
Pharf. lib. iii. natural painting which preſents an
Mr. Addison has made a noble object inſtantly to the eye of the rea-
uſe of this ſentiment in his Campaign, der, and is the higheſt perfection of
and has the happieſt tranſlation of it defcriptive poetry.—It is in the ac-
:
I can think on :-Speaking of Marl- count of Satan's adventure with Death
BOROUGH, before he groffed the Mo- upon his arrival at the gates of hell.
felle, he tells us,
Such a frown,
Our god-like leader, ere the fream Each caft at th' other, as when two
be paſt,
black clouds .
Wilb-
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
ge
Now rear'd with horror their gigantic head,
And claim'd the vengeance heav'n ſo long delay'd,
Ye ſons of night, whoſe each deſtructive word 245
Stabs with more keenneſs than a ruffian's ſword;
Whoſe hydra Love can triumph in offence,
A love that ſmiles at ruin'd innocence:
Say, did you ne'er reflect, when at your
fide
Truth bled, Peacegroan’d, and murder'd Virtue dy'd? 250
Did
you
ne'er think, when frantic with deſpair
You've ſeen the anguiſh of fome weeping fair,
Whoſe voice, once ſweet as Philomela's lay,
On darkneſs call’d, and curs’d the coming day;
Whoſe ſnowy boſom heav'd continual fighs, 25$
While tears ran ſtreaming from her lovely eyes :
Ah! did you ne'er, with terror at his rod,
Hear the loud voice of an affronted God?
Say, has his rage, his vengeance loſt its fire ?
Is he not ſtill Almighty in his ire ?
260
Is then his potent arm by thee o'er-ruld?
His thunder blunted, or his lightnings cool'd ?
O!
N 2
With beav'n's artillery fraught, come To join their dark encounter in midair.
rattling on
Over the Caſpian, then ſtand front to
He then adds,
front,
So frown'd the migbly combatants, that
Hou’ring a ſpace, 'till winds the ſignal bell
blow
Grew darker at the frown.
92
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
O! no:-ev'n now his eye pervades the whole ;
Ev’n now he views, he reads thy inmoſt ſoul :
Is there one thought, that (as the darting wind 265
Unform'd and fleeting,) glances o'er the mind ?
Is there an act thou trembledſt to prolong?
Or word that dy'd unfiniſh'd on thy tongue ?
Or form thou view'dít, the phantom of thy fear?
Or found that languiſh'd on th' unfeeling ear? 270
Didſt act fonie hidden guilt, to man unknown?
And waſt thou then, or thought'ſt thyſelf alone?
Miſtaken wretch! whoſe blind, unequal fenſe
With daring aim would judge Omnipotence;
Thy ken juſt glancing o'er a bounded ſpan, 275
Would join with His who reads the heart of man:
Thou,
272. - or thoughi's tbyſelf mind a perſuaſion of the Divine Om-
alone, &c.]
niſcience; to which a ſimple aſſent,
when not accompanied with a ſuita-
0.! loft to virtue! loft 10. manly ble influence on the practice, is like
thought!
a midnight dream, ſcarce ſooner re-
Loft to the noble ſallies of the soul, collected than forgot ; and ſtill leſs
W be think i folitude to be alone. conſiſtent than the reveries of a mad-
Complaint, Night iii. ab initio. man, whoſe actions are ſquared by
the judgment he forms. Was it
274. would judge Omnipo- firmly believed, what can fill the
tence, &c.} To ſecure this paſſage mind with more awful reverence
from an objection, that it makes the than the continual preſence of its
Deity intereſt himſelf in: trifles, I Creator !--was it ſuitably improved,
fall only obſerve, that its deſign, where can we meet with a more
(and indeed the great one of this ſtriking incitement to the love, and
performance,,, is to imprint on the exerciſe of virtue!
4
The DAY OF JUDGMENT 93
Thou, like the beaming of a morning ſun,
That gilds the eaſt, art clouded ere thy noon:
He, in the blaze of one meridian ray,
Burns with unſully'd light, and gives eternal day: 20
Thee fancy, paſſion's cloudy miſts o'ercaſt :
His all the future, fcantly thine the paſt.
He view'd in filence all the mighty ſcene,
Tho' dreadful, mild; and awfully fetene:
His juſtice here for inſtant thunder cry'd,
285
But heav'nly Love ſtood ſmiling at her ſide.
As when ſome judge (on whoſe deciſive frown
Deſtruction lowrs) aſcends his awful throne;
His mind no thought of pity can controul,
His dreaded hand unſeals th' important ſcroll; 290
Wild with ſuſpence the doubting fuppliant ſhakes,
Reads ev'ry look, and trembles ere he ſpeaks ;
His flutt'ring ſoul the vivid eye betrays,
And ev'ry paſſion varies in his face.
Thus, round the throne of their tremendous Lord, 295
All filent wait th' irrevocable word :
Ten thoufand thoughts in wild confufion rife,
And the rack'd ſoul ſhoots thro' the quivering eyes.
;
He rofe :-his looks the coming judgment ſhow;
Reſentment darken'd his majeſtic brow;
Then
300
1
94 The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Then view'd the throng beneath his footſtool ſpread,
Shook with a nod the burning ſkies, and ſaid,
(Heav'n's tott'ring concave bow'd, while all around
His wond'ring hoſts ſtood liftning at the found.)
“ Depart, ye damn’dı 'tis I pronounce your doom :
so 'Tis I, the God who form’d you in the womb: 306
" 'Tis I, who left each ſofter ſcene above,
« Left the warm boſom of celeſtial Love,
“ Left heav'n's bright domes, and ſought the climes
" beneath,
“ Left all—for ſcorn, contempt,and pangs,and death. 310
" Ingrate! 01 tell the vaſt, th' unpity'd woes,
“ The pangs I bore, to ſave my mortal foes !
“ Say, when beneath th' oppreſſive weight diſmay’d,
“ Did e'er your hand ſupport my drooping head ?
“ When oft I've wept, in all my counſels foil'd, 315
« Like ſome fond parent o’er an only child ;
“ Did you, when wretched, helpleſs, penſive, poor,
“ Or ſoothe ny grief, or ope the friendly door ?
" What more than Rage your flinty boſoms arm’d?
• When deaf to Love, by Vengeance not alarm’d! 320
« How
313.-beneath th'oppreſſive weight, choſe to give the ſentiment this turn,
&c.] See Matth. xxv. from verſe 42". as a nearer reſemblance muſt have
316. Like fome fond parent, &c.] fallen infinitely ſhort of the original,
This has ſome remote alluſion to our in which the fimplicity, pathos, and
Saviour's pathetic complaint over delicate beauty of allegory, will need
Jeruſalem, Matth. xxiii. x. 37. I no recommendation to a good judge.
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
95
“ How oft to win thy ſoul has Mercy ſtood !
“ To fright, how oft ſtern Juſtice red with blood !
“ Yet ſtill 'twas yours, unmoy'd, unaw'd by all,
“ To ſpurn, to laugh at Pity's melting call
“ Alike unheard iny promiſe, threat’ning, fighs, 325
“ 'Twas yours to ſmile at ſpeechleſs agonies !
;
“ Take then, ye fiends, the wretches from my ſight;
« Take, ſhroud them deep in everlaſting night;
" 'Mid ceaſeleſs torments, never to expire ;
" To bear the racks of an eternal fire;
330
« To feel whate'er an injur'd God can claim,
My love rejected, and inſulted name :
“ Bethis their doom,"_Th’Almighty ſpoke, and frownd,
Heav'n heard, and hell's remoteſt regions groan
.
336
톤
​He ſpoke:- 'twas done. To make their millions room,
The opening gulph diſclos’d its burning womb;
From its black breaſt the boiling fulphur broke,
And troops of fiends aſcended thro' the ſmoke,
As when his vengeance heav'n's ALMIGHTY pours,
He ſpeaks,--and lol the forky thunder roars ; 340
It burſts away, impetuous in its flight,
Till fome vaſt cloud receives the glowing weight;
It lowrs with frowns, the trembling nations gaze;
It blots with night the ſun's meridian rays ;
O’er
4
96
The DAY OF JUDGMENT
O'er the wide ſkies the rolling darkneſs ſpreads, 345
And hangs, incumbent horror | o'er their heads :
At length the rattling vollies force their way,
The livid lightnings Aaſh a paler day;
O’er heav’n’s blue arch the mounting flames aſpire,
And all the wide horizon teems with fire
350
A CLOUD thus lowring from his brow there came;
So ſpouts the deep with unremitting flame.
355
But, O! my ſoul, th' amazing theme forbear,
Nor dare to paint what angels dread to hear :
Let heav'nly bliſs thy cooler thoughts confine,
And ſmooth with ſofter ſcenes the flowing line.
Yet ſtay !-one moment bid the whole unfold,
Clear the bright gem from its ſurrounding mould:
To warm the breaſt, and touch unthinking youth,
An awful pauſe may cull ſome uſeful truth ;
May raiſe the paſſions with becoming pride :
'Tis Virtue's call, nor be the call deny'd.
360
Would'st thou, O man, avoid th' unbounded woe?
Would'ſt feel thy breaſt with endleſs raptures glow?
Would'ſt thou with triumph hear the thunder roll, 365
That rocks the nodding earth from pole to pole ?
Retire;- be deaf to Grandeur's vain alarm,
Its gilded darts, that ſting thee, while they charm: Let
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
97
Let Life’s gay ſcenes engage thy ſoul no more,
Pomp, Beauty, Youth, the bubbles of an hour!
Fix ev'ry thought on thy immortal part;
Bid heav'n attend !—then trembling aſk thy heart,
370
The
3
« How have I walk'd thro' all this mazy road?
“ How liv’d, to gain the plaudit of my GOD?
“ How ſpoke? how acted? how improv'd the boon, 375
« On all beſtow'd, from all reſum'd ſo ſoon?
“ Say, did I e'er o'er weeping Virtue groan,
" Return her tears, and make her grief my own?
“ Have I, unmov'd by Sorrow's frantic cries,
“ Refus'd my help, my pity, or my ſighs ?
“ Then hear, Great GOD, (ſhouldſt thou thy aid detain,
“ The nobleſt wiſh, the beſt reſolve how vain !)
« Oh! lend to proſtrate duft thy willing ear !
“ Hear, all ye ſaints ! and, ev'ry angel, hear !
O
« Should
380
371. -on thy immortal part, &c.] Παννύχια γαρ μοι Πατροκλης δειλοιο
HOMER, (who, through his whole Yugen DE159xkl.-Iliad. lib. 23.
Iliad, has introduced appoſite re-
fections on the uncertainty of life, 'Tis true, 'tis certain, man, tho' dead,
and the rewards or puniſhments of a
retains
future ſtate), makes Achilles, after Part of bimſelf ; tb' immortal mind
awaking from a dream, in which he
remains
had ſeen Patroclus, talk in this man-
The form fubfifts without the body's gid,
Aërial ſemblance, and an empty ſhade! :
This night my friend, folate in battle loft,
Ω σοποι, η ρα τις εςι και ειν αιδαο δoμoισι Stood at my fde. --
Ψυχη και ειδωλον, αταρ Φρενες εκ ενα σαμπαν:
Pope
ner:
2
98 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
“ Should yet thy mercy give me years to come, 385
" If not this hour configns me to the tomb,
« On thee alone each fond deſire ſhall reſt,
“ No rival love to ſhare it in my breaſt;
“ I leave, vain world! thy pleaſures to thy friends,
“ The fool that aſks them, and the grave that ends; 390
“ Each fair, each dazzling object I reſign;
« Be thine my hopes! and all my powers be thine !"
But lol my ſoul, the clouds at length are o’er ;
The ſtorms are calm'd, the thunders ceaſe to roar :
See! blooming Love, as cloudleſs ſkies ſerene,
395
Smiles heav'nly ſweet, and brightens all the ſcene !
409
So ſome loud whirlwind, with reſiftleſs ſweep,
Heaves the wild waves, and blackens on the deep;
The fainting mariners, with pale deſpair,
Behold the ocean's boiling boſom bare :
When lo! at once the raving winds ſubſide,
A gentle breeze plays ſmoothly o'er the tide ;
Now each, enraptur’d, views th' emerging ray,
Now breathes delighted in the blaze of day;
Groves, mountains, woods appear, a charming train! 405
The ſhip glides lightly thro' the liquid plain ;
The liquid plain reflects the waving beam,
And heav'n's fine azure glitters in the ſtream.
SOME
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
99
Some ſeraph, teach my daring ſong to riſe,
o I let me catch the muſic of the ſkies;
Illume breaſt, exalt, refine the whole,
And
pour
melodious numbers on my
foul.
410
my
1
What glories burſt on my tranſported ſight!
What charms, with more than mortal beauty bright!
What anthems ring! what melting lays inſpire ! 415
What god-like angels ſtrike the ſounding lyre !
Seel ev'ry face the ſofteſt ſmiles aſſume !
How glows each feature with celeſtial bloom!
A bloom, untouch'd by all-devouring time;
Like flow’rs that bloſſom in perpetual prime!
420
Lo! where in fight th' angelic armies move !
See opening fair the balmy climes of love!
Bleſt climes! where Muſic ſtrikes the warbling ſtring,
Where joy exulting ſpreads his airy wing,
Where ſhrin'd in bliſs triumphant Beauty reigns,
425
And Spring's eternal bluſh adorns the plains.
O! could my ſtrains with ev'ry grace appear,
Each thought that fires the ſoul, or charms the ear;
To me did ev'ry finer art belong,
The richeſt fancy, and the ſweeteſt ſong,
430
This heav'nly theme th' harmonious voice ſhould raiſe,
Warm all my thoughts, and warble in my lays.
For
02
TOO The DAY OF JUDGMENT. .
,
For lo! He comes, a Victor o'er the
grave,
In triumph mild, exalted but to ſave :
In crowds th' applauding hoſts ſurround their King ; 435
They tune their harps, and touch the fineſt ftring.
Angelic concert! muſically Now,
It ſteals more ſoft, than vernal breezes blow :
Then
434. -exalted but to ſave, &c.] hold in this majeſtic attitude ? He
As I have endeavoured, through the then takes a particular ſurvey, and
whole of this poem, to point out deſcribes him with more accuracy :
ſuch parts of the ſacred writings, as " this that cometh up with dyed
contain any ſentiment peculiarly beau garments.” I fee (as if he had ſaid
tiful on this awful ſubject; the reader with rapturous ardor) his eyes ſpark-
will (I preſume) excuſe me for ſub- ling with fury, and his garments
joining to theſe one obſervation more rolled in the blood of his enemies.--
on the following paſſage in Iſaiah.. He then paints the dignity of his ap-
'Tis in his 634 chapter, from the be- proach, “ travelling in the greatneſs
ginning.--The prophet, from a view, “ of his ſtrength.”—One would al-
as it would ſeem, of our Saviour's moſt imagine he viewed the majeſty
reſurrection, on beholding the feve- of ſome triumphant hero, reeking
ral circumſtances at that moment from ſlaughter, and elated with vic-
preſented to him, burſts into an ab- tory.--He at length advances ſo near
rupt exclamation (a parallel to which as to make a reply: a reply, on which
Mr. HERVEY has finely illuſtrated, every preceding circumſtance reflects
in a paraphraſe on Solomon's prayer
a diſtinct beauty. We would con-
at the dedication of his temple) “ Who clude, on peruſing the firſt part, that
“ is this that cometh up from Edom, the ſequel was to contain ſome dread-
“ with dyed garments from Bozrah? ful menace, or alarming threatning:
" this that is red in his apparel, tra-
but how agreeably are we ſurprized
“ velling in the greatneſs of his and diſappointed when we hear him
“ ſtrength:” Obſerve the grada- anſwer, “ It is I that ſpeak in righ-
tion :-the firſt queſtion ſeems to " teouſneſs, mighty to ſave !" What
proceed from an indiſtinct view of an improvement is this on another
the perſon, " who is this?" what paſſage, where we are told, tha: “ his
heavenly appearance diſcovers itſelf “ tender mercies are over all his
to my ſenſes? whom is it that I be « other works !".
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
IOT
Then ſwells a ſprightly note;-all heav'n replies,
And labouring Echo rings it thro' the ſkies.
440
Now, bright as heav'n, as mild Aurora fair,
(Whoſe balmy breath perfumes the purer air,)
He roſe, with Mercy beaming from his fight,
Then ſınild and look'd ineffable velight.
As when the nightingale’s melodiutis love 445
Charnis the ſtill gleon, and the vocal grove;
The liſt' no Zephyrs
while ihe ſings,
Catch ev ry found, and uft it on their wings;
Th'attentiv: liv.is her moving accents hear,
That melt the and harmonize the ear;
Such, (while e::ci boſom felt unbounded joys,)
Such Muſic ſtream’d from his tranſporting voice :
(While warm’d with more than rapture at their doom,
Each cheek was fluſh'd, like roſes in the bloom.)
450
« Come now, ye bleſt! by heav'n, by me approv’dl 455
« Ye bleſt of God, my darlings, my belov’d!
“ Poffefs whate’er your vaſt deſires can claim;
“ Be endleſs praiſes your eternal theme;
“ Tho' once you figh’d, be all your ſighs no more;
“ Tho’once you wept, your mourning days are o’er: 460
" Now
455. Come now ye bleft, &c.] See Matth. xxv. 34
102
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
" Now raiſe the ſong, begin th' immortal ſtrain ;
“ Guard them, ye angels, to th' etherial plain ;
“ Their harp, their voice let ſofter themes employ,
“ And touch the heart, and crown the head with joy.
C
" For this I left theſe ſkies, to dwell below; 465
“ For this my ſoul felt all the ſtings of Woe;
“ For this the ſpear, with reeking purple dy’d,
Op'd a wide wound, and lodg’d within my ſide;
“ For this deſpis’d, forſook, deny’d, I ſtood,
“ Pour'd ceaſeleſs groans, and bought it with
Delightful prize !—to taſte its ſweets, is thine : 471
" Yours all the bliſs; to know the pain, was mine.
“ But lol your vaſt reward at length is nigh;
" That dazzling Crowd awaits you in the ſky !
“ Now boundleſs bliſs ſhall all your grief repay, 475
Wipe off your tears, and give your ſighs away.”
my
blood;
Here pauſe :—no more by man can be expreft;
Ye ſaints, ye wond'ring ſeraphs tell the reſt!
As thro' the clouds ſome towring eagle ſprings,
And Aies like lightning on impetuous wings ;
He views unmov’d the burning ſun diſplay'd :
The waving fire plays harmleſs round his head
Quick
480
3
2
464. — and crown the bead with joy, &c.] See Iſaiah xxxv. 10.
The DAY OF JUDGMENT.
103
Quick as a thought of the aëreal mind,
To heav'n he mounts, and leaves the ſtars behind :
Thus, rapt at once from our attending view, 485
Thro' the broad gates the riſing Concourſe flew;
Till far remov’d, ſcarce to the diſtant ſight
The Triumph glow'd, with fainter glories bright;
Aſcending ſtill, till it appear’d no more :
We look’d, and all the ſwimming ſcene was o'er. 490
But now (more charming than the riſing fun)
The blooming angel ſmil'd, and thus begun:
Sweet as the towring lark's mellifluous ſong,
The melting accents warbled on his tongue !
" 'Tis done:_for now that ſhining train remov'd 495
Enjoy the bliſs, and praiſe the God they lov'd ;
They live, they reign, eternally ſerene,
" With not one cloud, to interpoſe between,
Say, when thy gazing eyes ſurvey'd the whole,
“ Did dawning rapture beam upon thy ſoul ?
500
“ Burns not thy ſwelling breaſt to join the choir ?
“ Is ev'ry Paſſion wing’d with fond deſire ?
“ Would'ſt thou, with tranſport fir’d to mount above,
« Aſcend ? and melts not ev'ry thought with love?
Then,
104 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Then, (all his frame with heav'nly glories bright, 505
Each lovely feature glowing with delight 1)
He thus burſt out:-"0! who thy name can praiſe !
“ What Angel's voice can tell thy wond'rous ways !
" Lol on each lip the Hallelujah dies;
" We faint; an awful Rev'rence fills the ſkies :
510
“ All, humbly bending to Almighty pow'r,
“ In proſtrate filence tremble and adore !"
He ſaid :—and mounting to the realms of day,
Spread his reſplendent wings and ſoar'd away.
*
M I S-
గాంగాలోగోగాలోగలగాలోగోలగగాంగాలకు
MISCELLANEOUS
POE
MS.
MaavaayapasyavaPAGAVADA VARGAVADGAMAPAMaa
P
T HE.
.
*
数
​客
​( 107 )
The 148th PSALM paraphraſed *.
I.
3
B
EGIN, my ſoul, th' exalted lay,
Let each enraptured thought obey,
And praiſe th’ Almighty's name;
Lo! heav'n, and earth, and ſeas, and ſkies
In one melodious concert riſe
To ſwell th' inſpiring theme !
P 2
II. Ye
* The Author of this paraphraſe made in that copy, which are adopted
was greatly ſurpriſed, upon looking verbatim in the Chriſtian Magazine,
over the Chriſtian Magazine for Sep- the Author finds, that his manuſcript,
tember 1760, to find it inſerted there, and not the printed copy, has fallen
with an elegant introductory letter, into the hands of ſome very modeſt
and aſcribed to an EMINENT Gentleman. This affair is too tri-
PHYSICIAN. It was in truth Aing to be treated ſeriouſly. Only
written by Mr. Ogilvie, when he was Mr. Ogilvie thought it neceſſary to
very young, was originally printed aſſign the reaſon for which it
appears
in the Scots Magazine for February in the preſent Collection. He owes
1753, and was dated from Edin- an acknowledgment to the perſon
burgh, where he happened at that who ſent this piece to the Authors of
time to ſpend the ſeaſon for his edu- the Chriſtian Magazine, for the high
cation. He is greatly miſtaken, if panegyric which he is pleaſed to
the initial letters of his name are not make on it, but is afraid that he
fubjoined to the Poem. Some years will not receive an acknowledgment
afterwards it was ſent to an eminent from the EMINENT PHY-
Engliſh Bookſeller, (who if he happens SICIAN, for aſcribing to HIM,
to read this note will recollect the the performance of a boy of fix-
fact); and as a few alterations were teen.
2
108
MISCELLANEOUS
II.
Ye fields of light, celeſtial plains,
Where gay tranſporting beauty reigns,
Ye ſcenes divinely fair !
Your Maker's wondrous power proclaim,
Tell how He form’d your ſhining frame,
And breath'd the fluid air.
III.
Ye Angels catch the thrilling ſound !
While all th' adoring throngs around
His wond'rous mercy fing;
Let every liſtening faint above
Wake all the tuneful foul of love,
And touch the ſweeteſt ſtring.
IV,
Join, ye loud ſpheres, the vocal choir !
Thou dazzling Orb of liquid fire
The mighty Chorus aid :
Soon as grey Evening gilds the plain,
Thou Moon protract the melting ſtrain,
And praiſe Him in the ſhade.
V.
Thou Heav'n of heav'ns, His vaft abode,
Ye clouds proclaim your forming god!
Ye Thunders ſpeak His power |
Lo!
S
PO E M S.
109
Lo! on the Lightnings gleamy wing
In triumph walks th’ Eternal King,
Th' aſtoniſh'd worlds adore*.
VI.
Whate'er the gazing eye can find,
That warms or ſoothes the muſing mind,
United praiſe beſtow;
Ye Dragons found His dreadful name
To heav'n aloud, and roar acclaim
Ye ſwelling Deeps below!
VII.
Let every element rejoice
Ye Tempeſts raiſe your mighty voice
To Him who bid
His praiſe in ſofter notes declare
Each whiſpering breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the foul.
you roll!
VIII.
* There is in this verſe four lines Whether theſe verſes (which are
wholly different both from Mr. Ogil- among the beſt in the poem) were
vie’s original manuſcript and from the or were not inſerted in the copy
printed copy. They are, as follows. ſent to England, the Author cannot
proclaim your forming God, poſitively determine. He believes
Who call'd yon worlds from night! they are his own. However he has
Ye ſhades diſpell!..th' Eternal ſaid ; ſubſtituted four new lines in their
At once th' involving darkneſs fled, place.
And Nature ſprung to light.
WR
IIO
MISCELLANEOUS
.
>
VIII.
To Him, Ye graceful cedars, bow!
Ye towering Mountains, bending low,
Your great Creator own!
Tell, when affrighted Nature ſhook,
How Sinai kindleď at His look,
And trembled at His frown.
IX.
Ye Flocks that haunt the humble vale,
Ye Inſects Aluttering on the gale,
In mutual concourſe riſe !
Crop the gay roſe’s vermeil bloom,
And waft it's ſpoils, a ſweet perfume,
In incenſe to the ſkies.
X.
Wake all, ye mounting throngs, and ſing!
Ye plumy warblers of the Spring
Harmonious anthems raiſe,
To Him who ſhap'd your finer mould,
Who tip'd your glittering wings with gold,
And tun’d your voice to praiſe.
XI.
Let man by nobler paffions ſway'd,
The feeling heart, the judging head
In heav'nly praiſe employ;
2
Spread
POEM S.
III
Spread His tremendous name around,
Till heav'n's broad arch ring back the ſound,
The general burſt of joy.
XII.
I
Ye, whom the charms of grandeur pleaſe,
Nurs’d on the filky lap of Eaſe,
Fall proſtrate at his throne !
Ye Princes, Rulers, all adore !
Praiſe Him, Ye Kings ! who makes your power
An image of His own.
.
XIII
Ye Fair, by nature form’d to move,
O praiſe th' eternal ſource of love
With Youth's enlivening fire!
Let Age take up the tuneful lay,
Sigh His bleft name;
And ask an Angel's lyre.
-then foar away,
VERSES
II2
MISCELLANEOUS
VERSES ſent to a LADY
with VOLTAIRE'S TEMPLE of TASTE.
IN
N theſe gay ſcenes by glowing Fancy wrought,
See Genius bright’ning thro' the veil of Thought!
Each finiſh'd draught at once improves and warms,
Each feature breathes, and every picture charms;
The happy pencil long inured to pleaſe
Joins ſtrength with taſte, and elegance with eaſe.
Mark in yon Temple’s beamy domes reclin’d,
What forms all beauteous ſtrike th' enraptur’d mind,
The train whom Nature lent ſuperior fire,
Who ſtole her air, her accent, and her lyre;
Who bid her form in breathing marble glow,
Who pour'd her tranſports, and who felt her woe,
Here riſe, as Judgment points the road to Fame,
To juſter manners, and a nobler aim :
Thought nicely-true the copious plan reviews,
And Fancy's hand ſupplies enlivening hues;
Warm from the tints the ſwelling Figures riſe,
And Life's blue beam illumes the ſpeaking eyes;
4
No
P. O E M S.
II3
No roughned daſh betrays th' unequal part,
Nor ſhade ungraceful points the veil of art;
But Hope all-radiant ſoars to worlds of light.
While Judgment's temperate hand directs the flight,
Calm Senſe and Wiſdom take their turn to rule,
And Reaſon's piercing eye o’erlooks the ſoul.
*
i
Here Boileau marks the living draught refin'd,
The flame of Genius burſting o'er his mind
Yet juſt to worth, attends the melting ſtrains
Whoſe muſic ſtreani'd along Britannia's plains ;
He marks the ruby'd lip that breathes perfume,
The cheek where beauty ſpreads her genial bloom,
The throng that flutters round th' illumin'd hall,
The Satyr's venom'd ſhaft, that drops with gall;
Then knows ſuperior wit, though near the throne,
And hails the Bard whoſe ſkill ſurpaſs’d his own t.
See mighty Dacier ſoars in nobler lays I.
Each lawreld Ancient crowns her head with bays,
e
A
* It is generally allowed, that Rape of the Lock is judged by the
imagination was not the predomi- beſt Critics to have been wrote in an
nant faculty which characterized the higher taſte than the Luerin.
writings of Boileau. He is therefore See mighty Dacier &c.] This La-
repreſented here as having attained dy's name is not mentioned by Vot:
that point in which he was princi- taire in his Temple of Taſte, though
pally deficient.
I confeſs, I cannot fee with what rea-
+ And hails the Bard, &c.] The ſon ſhe is omitted. It is true, in-
deeili
114
MISCELLANEOUS
A tow’ring Genius! whoſe exalted name
Employs the tongue, and ſwells the trump of Fame,
From Man, proud tyrant, with refiftleſs force
She fnatch'd the rein, and whirl'd it in the courſe;
With eagle-ſpeed purſued th' expected prey,
Then caught and bore the glorious prize away.
Here through Reflection's clearer glaſs diſplay'd
She marks the mingling ſtreaks of light and ſhade,
Obferves defects, by cool experience taught,
And blames with reaſon, or approves with thought.
What need I Voiture's eaſier taſk recite,
Whoſe work contracted beams with faultleſs wit;
Or paint Racine whoſe chaſt’ned ſtrain improves,
Or Molliere, ſporting with the Smiles and Loves;
Fontaine, whoſe wit from Nature's fund was ſtole,
Or bold Corneille who ſtorms, and tears the foul.
Lost in the radiance of diſſolving light,
Ten thouſand beauties opening on my fight,
My fainting muſe deſerts th’unequal theme
Pleaſed with ſome gentler note, and humbler name;
She
deed, that ſhe is rather a tranſlator out diſcovering in both the force of
than an original writer. Few readers an exact judgment, joined to that
however of fenfibility will perufe her feeling of poetic beauty which is ſo
tranſlation and remarks on the Iliad, often found to predominate in this
or on Ariſtotle's Art of Poetry, with amiable ſex.
P 0 E M S.
115
She feels, (the glowing traits confuſedly ſeen)
The heat too piercing, and the ray too keen.
Thus in ſome fields where Art and Nature join,
(Such are thy gardens Stowe, and Seaton*, thing
Where from yon mount; a plan by Taſte deſign’d,
Reflects an image of the Maſter's mind ;)
Where'er I look the bluſh of Beauty glows,
The foreſt brightens, or the garden blows;
Groves, ſtreams, and trees their chequer'd pride diſplay,
And melting muſic ſteals the ſoul away.
.
'Tis your's each work of genius to review,
Who know falſe beauties, and admirc the true;
You bleſt by nature with ſuperior ſkill,
An eye to mark them, and an heart to feel,
A ſoul iliumed by Reaſon's gentle rays,
Serene, not ſtrong, and bright without a blaze ;
Intent to know, and yet polite to pleaſe,
Who read with judgement, and who write with caſe.
Ev'n mine, a baſhful muſe untaught and young,
That ſports, not warbles in the tuneful throng,
Waked by this theme can ſtrike the trembling ſtrings,
And feebly Autters with unequal wings ;
ez
So
* Sucb are thy gardens &c. or Sea- which belongs to a Gentleman near
ton tbine] An elegant country ſeat, Aberdeen.
116 MISCELLANEOUS
So fome pale flower reclines its drooping head,
And lies unſeen, neglected in the ſhade,
Yet touch'd with lightning by the blaze of noon,
Unfolds its leaves, and bloſſoms in the ſun.
AS
A
ach
A TOWN ECLOGUE*.
IR’D with the rage that warms a Coxcomb's mind,
When curls are awkward, or the fair unkind;
When ſpurn’d and kick’d by all the tinſel throng,
Or, ftill more dreadful, when a patch is wrong;
Poor Florio late deplor’d his mighty woe,
With all the fury of an angry beau.
***
Alone, and muſing on the wrongs of fate
Fix'd deep in thought the gloomy Heroe fat ;
One hand his cane ſuſtain’d, (of magic power ;)
One twirld his box, but dropt it on the floor :
'Twas then within the gilded covering hid
Thy Form Belinda ſtarted from the lid.
Paint,
* The incidents mentioned in this culous in characters, but not to ap-
piece are wholly fictitious. The propriate 'the 'ridicule to particular
Author intended to paint the ridi- perſons.
P
O E M S.
117
Paint, ruffles, lace were call’d to eaſe his pain,
But ruffles, lace, and paint were call'd in vain.
In vain unhappy ! o'er thy boſom ſpread
With figured ſilver flam'd the gay brocade
In vain, to rouze thy drooping thoughts, combine
Gums, feathers, patches, plays, novels, and wine :
Unmov'd he ſtood ;till ſtruck with fierce deſpair
He rav’d, he ſtanıp'd, he frown'd, he tore his hair ;
The curls flew looſe, and ſcattering thro' the room,
Exhaled a cloud of powder and perfume.
Thrice ere he ſpoke, he wiped the ſwimming eye,
And thrice (ye gods, how ſtrange !) was heard to ſigh;
At laſt with fury ſwell’d th' indignant man,
He bit his quivering lip, and thus began.
7
GODS! have I liv’d to this deteſted hour,
" When Paſſion ſtorms with unreſiſted power !
“ Baulk'd in my wiſhes; from my views remov'd
By thoſe who loved me once, or ſaid they lov’d.
" Was it for this I learn'd theſe arts before,
“ Dreſs’d, lov’d, fung, danc’d, fought, whored, rhimed,
" drunk, and ſwore.
" For this I taught the ſpeaking look to kill,
“ And ſpent whole years at ombre and quadrille ;
“ Fired with a graceful mien th' admiring Fair,
“ And oped the ſnuff-box with a charming air!
Have
A
? 평
​«
118
MISCELLANEOUS
“ Have I ſo long purſued the lovely prize,
" And felt the lightning of Belinda's eyes,
“ Patch'd, powder'd, painted, uſed a clouded cane,
“ Wrote billet-doux, fighed, ogled ;--all in vain !
“ While at the goal my happier rivals run,
(So glittering infects court a ſummer fun)
" While theſe are buzzing in the Charmer's ear,
“ Am I, and I alone, to feel deſpair ?
“* Muſt I be doom'd her vengeance to deplore,
By her moſt hated, whom I moſt adore ?”
" Yet, how our fond deluding hopes beguile!
" Theſe eyes have ſeen the frowning Beauty ſmile,
With charms reſplendent flame divinely bright,
" And warm th’exulting heart with keen delight."
" O could my wiſh the happier years recall,
" When once I ſhone diſtinguiſh'd in the ball!
" Then as I pafs’d the pointing circle bowed;
“ 'Twas then my dreſs preſcribed the reigning mode.
" Then crouds with wonder eyed me, as I mov’d,
« The beaus all envied, and the belles approv’d.
« Now, ſad reverſe! my cares are all return'd
“ With proud diſdain, neglected, hiſs’d or ſpurn’d;
They ſee me wretched, and but laugh the more,
“ Though love invites, and billet-doux implore."
" THOUGH
I 월
​3
P Q EM S. :
119
« Though once this mien has boaſted to inſpire,
« And melt ev'n frozen boſoms with deſire;
Though once theſe eyes, practiſed in every art,
“ Have charm’d the prude, and trapp'd th’unwary heart ;
Though ſmooth Perſuaſion graced my flowing tongue;
Though the ſoul leap?d with tranſport, when I ſung:
" Yet, now, ah, now! iny warm addreſſes prove
“ The blaſt of pleaſure, and the bane of love.
" Each wondering Booby ſtareś, where e'er I go,
" As ſome pale Ghoſt had left the ſhades below.”
THOUGHTless mortals ! ignorant and dull,
" Blind to the wiſe, but partial to the fool;
" Who ne'er have learn’d ſuperior worth to find,
"i Nor view thoſe charms that ſtrike the judging mind;
“ Still prone at Folly's ſhrine to pour your blood,
“ Nor taught to value life's ſubſtantial good !
“ On us no more your pointleſs wit beſtow,
“ Your pointleſs wit can never hurt a Beau.”
ENRAGED, he ſpoke; with grief, with ire oppreſt,
His heart beat thick within his roomy breaſt;
He damn’d all mankind in a rage, and ſwore
(Unjuſt !) that every woman was a we.
Plays, paint, novels now met their final doom,
The furious Heroe kick'd them thro' the room;
Daſhed
120
MISCELLANEOUS
Daſhed o'er his figured veſt the rude bohea,
And tore his favourite patch, and fine toupee.
::
But, lo! at length a fatal billet came !
A fatal billet! with Belinda's name!
Thoạ lovely cauſe of all my woes ! he cry’d,
Then ſigh’d, and ſwore, and wept, and ſwore, and figh’d;
Groan'd, fainted, ſunk, then took a laſt adieu,
And breathed his ſoul out on the billet-doux.
excen
JUPITER and the CLOWN
.
A
F
A B
B L E.
$
E
NVYI thou Fiend, whoſe venomed ſting
Still points to Fame's aſpiring wing;
Whoſe breath, blue ſulphur's blaſting ſteam,
Whoſe
eye
the baſiliſk's lightning-gleam;
Say, through the dun ile's ſolemn round,
Where Death's dread foot-ſtep prints the ground,
Loveſt thou to haunt the yawning tomb,
And cruſh fallen Grandeur’s duſty plume ?
Or,
3
PO E MS.
I 21
Or, where the wild Hyæna's yell
Rings thro' the hermit's cavern'd cell,
Moves thy black wing its devious flight?
(Thy wing that bloats the cheek of Night)
There oft beneath ſome hoary wall
Thy ftings are dipt in ſcorpion's gall;
Thence whizzing ſprings the forky dart,
And ſpreads its poiſon to the heart.
+
Hence all th' unnumber'd cares of life,
Hence malice, fury, rapine, ſtrife;
Hence all exclaim on partial fate;
Hence pale Revenge, and ſtern Debate;
Hence man (to every paſſion prone):
Sees much, loves all;- but hates his own.
*
Now, Delia, ſhould ſhe chance to know.
Some trifling fool,--perhaps--a beau,
The fair at once implores the ſkies,
With glowing cheeks and ſparkling eyes ;
O, hear your Votary's earneſt prayer,
Ye guardian angels of the fair !
Make but this charming creature prove
A victim to the power of love:
'Tis this, Ye Gods, I would implore!
And grant but this ;-I aſk no more.
R
THE
1 2 2
MISCELLANEOUS
The prayer is heard (what power delays
To grant her ſuit when Delia prays !)
The beau is caught, he ſwears, and bows,
Proteſts, and ſnuffs, and ſweats, and vows
By all the oaths the fool can ſwear,
That never creature was ſo fair :
Then adds a thouſand more, to tell
That never mortal loved ſo well.
The prize is gảin'd—the pleaſure o'er;
Lace, bag, and ſnuff-box charm no more s
No boſom feels the killing ſmart,
No ſide-long glance betrays the heart,
No fan conceals a rival's fears,
No cheek is ſtain'd with ſpiteful tears.
On new delights her paſſions fix,
A court perhaps, or coach and fix,
She wants a ball, and juſtly vain,
Admires a title,-or a cane.
But ere our reader's patience fail,
'Tis time we now begin our tale.
%
An honeſt Farmer, old and fage,
(Sure wiſdom ftill attends on age)
One morning roſe, when all was fair,
- Aod joyous breathed the ſcented air.
Waked
P Q EM S.
123
Waked by the Zephyr's tepid wing,
Aurora, fragrant as the Spring,
Roſe from her couch, the buſy Hours
Stole from their crimſon-curtain'd bowers;
Looſe was her robe of ſaffron hue,
Her locks diffuſed ambroſial dew;
The ſky's broad gates at once unfold,
The light cloud flames with cinctured gold;
The woodland gleams, the ſilver ſtream
Waves to the broad ſun's fluttering beam ;
The feather'd people ſing their love,
And muſic rings along the grove.
ELATE, the happy clown ſurveyed
The field wide-opening thro' the ſhade;
The
green ears ruſtling to the gale
Shot thro' the thin night's ruffled veil ;
Slow roſe to fight the new-born day,
Slow crept the lingering ſhades away,
'Till o'er the broad hill's ſummit dun
Obliquely glanc'd the mounting ſun;
And all-illumed with ruſhing light,
The ſwelling landſkip burſt to fight.
.
.
As the fond Mother's panting breaſt
Throbs o'er her infant huſh'd to reſt,
R 2
Warm
I 24
MISCELLANEOUS
Warm in his little hut, the boy
Flutters elate with riſing joy ;
As by her gentle preſſure fway'd, ,
Swings ſoft and ſlow the ſleepy bed;
Wild Fancy whiſpers in her ear,
She whirls away the rolling year!
Youth, manhood comes ! ſhe marks afar
A robe, a mitre, or a fr!
Her heart leaps quick ! elate with pride!
Each prude's inſulting dreſs outvyed!
Each neighbour's booby ſon, unſeen,
Gnaws the pale lip with fruitleſs ſpleen!
Sudden ſhe ſtarts ! ſome rival dreſs’d,
Swims in the looſely-floating veft,
Her boſom heaves a fullen groan :-
Ah! was that charming ſuit my own !
Such joy (foon check'd with killing ſmart)
Shot thro' the fwain's exulting heart;
He hears the reaper's ſprightly fong:
The ruſtling ſickle ſweeps along;
His barns with ſwelling fheaves are ſtored,
Gay Plenty crowns the feſtive board ;
He cries in triumph, with a ſmile,
« For hopes like theſe who would not toil,
«« That neither flatter, nor beguile?”
Juſt
P Q E M S.
125
Juſt as he ſpoke the word, behold
A gaudy thing, o'erlaid with gold,
Came Aluttering by !—fo nicely clad,
With powder'd wig, and laced brocade ;
So gay, ſo rich (though ſtrange to tell !)
No butterfly look'd half ſo well.
STRUCK with the glittering veſt he wore,
The clown's rude eye-ball ſtared him o'er ;
Sly Envy mark'd the ſecret ſnare,
Then pick'd a choſen dart with care;
Of power to edge the quickeſt pain ;-
Then plunged it reeking in his brain.
Inflamed with fury and ſurprize,
Red Anger flaſhes from his eyes
“ Muſt I (he cryed and ſcratch'd his head)
Supply this prattling thing with bread?
" Muſt Farmers ſweat, and wear their cloaths,
" To furniſh equipage for beaux ?
“ We, Drudges doom'd to ceaſeleſs toil,
« For others tear the ſtubborn foil,
“ Our thoughts ſuſpence and fears inflame,
« Wretched and curs'd beyond a name;
While theſe amid" the balmy bower,
Spend in ſoft eaſe the fleeting hour;
" How fine they look ! what charms they ſhow,
as Ah! would to heav'n I was a Beaul".
4
Soft
126
MISCELLANEOUS
Sort Pity touch'd th’ Almighty Sire :
Jove heard, and granted his defire.
At once his furrow'd brow was fmooth,
In all the blooming pride of youth;
His hair in wavy ringlets Alow'd,
His cheek with fine vermilion glow'd;
Not like our modern pigmy race,
With wither'd limbs, and meagre face,
But plump and pruce he'd match'd a ſcore;
Such were the Beaux in days of yore.
Gay pleaſure danc'd in every limb,
He ſkimm'd along with airy ſwim ;
The God, propitious to his prayer,
Gave the ſoft look, and graceful air ;
But wrapt in dreams of bliſs, the Fool
Forgot his pocket, and his ſoul.
-
When thus transform'd, our glittering Beau
Surveyed himſelf from top to toe,
Struck at the change with vaſt ſurprize,
He ſtared, and ſcarce believed his eyes.
But when he found that all was ſure,
He cock'd his hat, and frown'd, and ſwore;
Applauded by the wondering throng,
The ſullen Heroe ſtrode along:
And while the ſwains in rude amaze
Mark his high port with ſtupid gaze,
Like
4
P Q E Ms.
127
Like Jove with ſolemn pace he trod,
And deign'd, --yet ſcarcely deign'd, - to nod.
But now to town he takes his way,
And ſees the court, the park, the play;
Attends the Fair, admir'd by all,
Leads the gay dance, and rules the ball.
“ Heav'ns! what a ſhape i fair Daphne cries,
" How fine his mien ! how bright his eyes!”
Thus all admire the charms they fee,
His cane that dangled at his knee,
His box and hat they view together,--
Some prais’d the paint, and ſome the feather ;
No engliſh taylor's clumſy fiſt
E’er match'd the ſleeve that graced his wriſt;
'The lace,-from Bruſſels laſt ;-by chance
He pick'd the brilliant up in France.
His coat ſo trim! ſo neat his ſhoe !
His limbs ſo ſhaped to ſtrut, or-bow !
Faſhion, you'd ſwear, to ſhow her power,
Had left dear Paris half an hour.
1
But, ahl with grief the muſe proceeds :
What power can mend the vulgar's deeds!
One night a coachman ſet himn down,
Then rudely aſk'd him-half a crown.
He
1 28 MISCELLANEOUS
He ſearch'd his pocket ;--what a curſe ?
His pocket held—an empty purſe !
What ſhould he dol-all aid withdrawn!
Cane, box, and watch, were ſent to pawn;
His brilliant too ('t had vex'd a faint)
Gained a few crowns -- at cent per
cent!
No friend his money can afford :
He gamed,-a ſharper ſwept the board.
Then ſcorn'd by all, in deep deſpair,
To Jove once more he made his prayer,
And begg’d the God to eaſe his pain,
And give him back his plough again.
*****
AN
E L EGY
On the DEATH of a LINNE T.
*
SWE
WEET bird! whofe gently-warbled lay
On Fancy's trembling pinnions born,
Still melts th’ attending foul away,
Still hails the roſy-featured morn.
*
Where
po E M S
129
Where Alits unloos'd th' aerial mind,
That once inform'd thy tuneful frame?
Mounts it elate the whiſtling wind ?
Or rides the bright noon's ſtreamy flame?
Or on the bleak heath wails alone,
Or haunts the deep-embowering grove,
Breathes on the gale its dying moan,
And pours the plaint of hopeleſs love ?
Hark! what ſweet voice ſalutes my ear!
What folemn note that tells of woe!
I ſee the little mourner near!
Thus ſtreams its muſic from the bough.
Why feel the tenants of the plain,
An harmleſs race, the general doom?
Why Innocence, thy ſpotleſs train,
Why left to fill the ſilent tomb?
Scarce taught with genial warmth to glow,
As on the downy couch I lay ;
Sprung on my fight th' exulting foe,
And bore elate his helpleſs prey.
S
Nought
$
130
MISCELLANEOUS
Nought then avail'd a Parent's pray’r,
Nought the wild Mother's mournful cry;
Vain was the ſhriek that ſpoke deſpair,
And vain the mute imploring eye.
j
j
Ah, why! in ſimple garb árray'd,
O’er me no ſpangling tints were feen,
Nor circling ſcarlet crown'd my head,
Nor flam'd my plumes with lucid green.
*
be
Some
;
Some bird in mantling azure bright,
gayer form thy cage may hold
Whoſe ſparkling eye reflects the light,
Whoſe plumage gleams' with downy gold.
܀
Slow rollid the lingering hour away,
The trembling wing oft ’try'd to foar ;
Oppreſſion mock'd its faint eſſay,
And Bondage barr’d her iron door.
*
is om
.
Can Muſic foothe the deafned ear?
Will Hope’s gay dream repel the tide ?
Will Pray’r recal the diſtant year?
Or Pity touch the heart of Pride?
2
Το
:
P O E M S.
131
**
To fofter chains at laſt conſign'd,
'Twas joy to pleaſe the liſtening fair
I fought no more to mount the wind,
But paid with ſongs their tender care.
;
No more a prey to vain deſire,
I ſcorn'd the tenants of the wood;
Hopp'd gaily round the circling wire,
And peck'd the hand that lent
my food.
But, Death 1-abrupt along the gale,
Dy'd on the ear the diſtant moan;
The Mourner ſought the ſilent vale,
Lurk'd in the ſhade, and wail'd alone.
************************************************
AN EVENING PIECE*
NOW
OW o'er the weſtern ſkies, deſcending Eve
Spread her grey robe, the ſolitary Hour
To Silence ſacred and deep-muſing Thought
Came ſweetly ſerious on the balmy gale,
S 2
And
* Theſe verſes form a part of the introduction of an Allegorical Poem
not yet publiſhed.
132 MISCELLANEOUS
And ſtole the ear of Wiſdom :-all was ſtill,
Save where ſlow-trilling from the mantling bough
Night's plaintive warbler, to the echoing vale
Pour'd her love-labour'd note: mellifluous lay!
Sweet as the voice of Muſic, when ſhe calls
The fluttering Zephirs to expand their wings,
And breathe it to the ſoul. The melting ſtrains
Thus foothed my throbbing boſom to a calm.
Led by revolving thought, my wandering ſteps
Explored the vale of Solitude, retired
Like that where Ancient Druids liv'd remote
Converſing with the moon ;--and airy ſhapes
(So Fame reports) beneath the wan dim ray
Sweep ſhadowy o'er the duſky lawn, or foar
High on the ſtreamy flame, or ride the winds,
Or hear the murmuring flood; when Darkneſs wraps
Her cloudy curtain round the world, and Fear
Knocks at the heart of man. Such is the haunt
Of fairy trains, when ſilver tips the grove;
That on the lilly's ruffling bells diſport,
Or hear the wild winds whiſtle, or repoſed
Lye on the daiſy's downy lap, or ſpring
Light as the glancing beam, from flower to flower,
And fuck the powdering of a cowſlip's eye
And drink the pearly dew.—Thro' this lone ſhade
Wrapt
PoE M S.
133
Wrapt deep in thought that pain'd at once and charm’d,
I rov'd with devious ſtep; nor heard the rill
That murmur'd ſweet, nor liſten'd to the gale
That kiſs’d the bending thyme, and from its wings
Shook all Arabia’s fragrance thro' the air.
#
I Gazed in awful filence on the ſcene
Fann'd with the breath of dewy-finger'd Eve;
And felt the ſtream of deep delightful thought
Come full and copious on my ſwelling ſoul
That thrill'd in every nerve.--" Hail, Ye lone ſhades,
(I thus began) “ Ye woods, and ſtreams, and groves
" Where Beauty loves to ſport ! where meek-eyed Peace
“ Diſſolves on flowers luxuriant, where the foot
" Of Quiet prints the devious wild, where Love
“ And Pleaſure leaning on the hand of Hope
Fledge their celeſtial wings, and eye the ſkies.
“ O mid yon murmuring wood at eaſe reclined,
" Where Nature hears the wildly-warbling lay
« Of Night's lone bird; how ſweet to fit retired !
“ To feel th' enlivening wiſh, to mount the ſoul
« Elate on Fancy's beamy wing; to pour
Quick thro' the feeling heart th' inſpiring lay,
“ That finely vibrates on the ſprings of thought,
" And wakes the mental harmony; the ſmile
“ Of calm Content, wken tuned to perfect eafe,
6 Subfides
*
2
134
MISCELLANEOUS
si
.
“ Subſides the Diſcord of the ſettling mind,
“ And Reaſon whiſpers peace :---o'er the broad ſcene
“ To glance a wondering eye, and mark the Cauſe
“ Whence ſprung this beauteous off-ſpring, to adore
" The hand that ſhaped Creation, and from night
« Call’d new-born Beauty, like the glittering beam
“ That gilds yon ſhadowy cloud; combining all
" The ſchemes of Wiſdom to the glorious end
« Of General Good (though Judgment’s purblind eye
« Darts o'er the varied maze her glance in vain)
“ That Virtue, Wiſdom, Happineſs may riſe
« From the long beauteous chain reſulting fair,
“ And pour their treaſures on the ſons of Men.”
*************************
To Miſs
With a FLOWER.
.
D
ELIA, mark that blowing roſe,
How the lovely bloſſom glows !
Spread in yon reclining vale
Its odours ſcent the breathing gale ;
Such thy Youth's delightful bloom,
Thy lips diffuſe ſuch fine perfume.
Mark
PO E MS.
1.35
Mark that lilly's milky white,
See its glowing charms unite !
How they languiſh o'er the ſtream,
Pure as Heaven's ethereal beam!
Such where the blue veins finely glow,
Thy hand unſtain'd as driven ſnow;
Such thy life to trial brought,
Such the whiteneſs of thy thought;
Yet the flower that decks the mead
Soon will droop its tender head;
Soon, when nipping froſts invade,
All its glittering dyes will fade;
Till its leaves in ſwift decay
Scent ſome gale, and breathe away.
So when Time, relentleſs Foe!
Strows his wrinkles on thy brow,
Gloomy Care with mildew'd wing
Soon will blaſt that bluſhing ſpring;
Till ev’n Thou, though form’d to pleaſe,
Bleft with beauty, wit, and eaſe;
Though each voice thy worth proclaim,
Though the Graces ſhaped thy frame :-
Thou,—but I can add no more.
Read the moral in the flower.
*
SAPPHO's
136
MISCELLANEOUS
SAPPHO'S ODE to VENUS
TRANSLATED.
G
A Y ſmiling Venus, hear’nly fair,
J
To whom our lofty Temples riſe !
Who gently lay'ſt the ſecret ſnare,
In which the bleeding lover dies.
Propitious Power, my ſoul inſpire,
And ſhield from every danger nigh;
Deſcend, and tune my warbling lyre,
If e'er Thou heard'ſt a lover's cry.
Thus while I ſung, to eaſe my care
From heav'n the radiant Goddeſs flew ;
I mark’d her track along the air ;
Her carr the ſwift-wing'd ſparrows drew.
Then with a ſoft inviting ſmile :
" What fears thy troubled thoughts controul?
Why call’A Thou Me? What hopes beguile,
** What wiſhes foothe thy melting ſoul?
•
Why
PO E MS.
137
" Why is my Fair a prey to woe?
« Why ſtreams with grief that ſparkling eye ?
Why muſt thy heaving boſom glow?
" O tell, my Sappho, tell me why.
shes
$6 If of the falſe deluding youth
" Thy lyre in dying notes complains,
“ Soon he'll reward thy ſteady truth,
" And take the gifts he now diſdains.
« If now He ſhuns thy longing arms,
“ Soon will he own your mighty ſway,
• Adore theſe bright reſiſtleſs charms,
« And all your ſoft commands obey."
O Thou, my Guardian, and my Friend !
Allay theſe fierce deſtructive fires !
O from yon azure ſkies deſcend !
And grant me all my ſoul deſires.
:
--
T
T.O
138
MISCELLANEOUS
js
To the Memory of Mrs.
'T
IS done:--the ſoul hath left its foft abode :
How pale the cheek where warmth and beauty
glow'd!
Where now thoſe charms that held th’admiring ſight?
The bloom as heav'n's unclouded azure bright?
Th' attractive fmile by Nature taught to pleaſe ?
The mien that temper’d dignity with eaſe?
Ah where I-Yon ſolemn ſilent vault ſurvey,
Where writhes the reptile o’er its kindred clay ;
There read on Pride's ſtain'd cheek the general doom;
Then pauſe:-while Memory bleeds upon the tomb.
O SNATCH'd from life to taſte of bliſs refin'd!
How warm with tranſport glows th' unbounded mind!
Say, marks thy wondering foul in raptured gaze,
The domes all-gleaming with celeſtial rays ?
Sees the bright Quire in long proceſſion move?
Or melts to notes that breathe eternal love?
Or
* The Lady to whoſe memory have any) lies in expreming the lan-
theſe verſes are inſcribed, died in the guage of the heart, a circumſtance
end of the year 1753, and the Poem which induced the Author to make
was wrote and publiſhed a few months no alteration, unleſs in a few of the
afterwards. Their merit (if they introductory lines.
.
P Q E M S.
139
Or floats looſe-hovering on celeſtial wings?
Or hears ſome Cherub ſweep the trembling ſtrings ?
Or tries ſublime the ſwelling Hymn to raiſe,
And tunes the warbling lute to ſongs of praiſe.
Perhaps, while we th' untimely ſtroke bemoan,
Thou bend'ſt adoring at th’ Eternal's throne;
While from our eye-balls burſt the ſtreams of woe,
Thine happier ſoul can wonder why they flow;
Or ſmile, and pitying our miſtaken ſighs,
Can bleſs the hour that ſent thee to the ſkies.
Yet muſt our forrows ſtain thy mournful bier ;
Such ſweetneſs loft demands a tender tear.
Thine was the breaſt by conſcious virtue warm’d,
The heart that pitied, and the look that charm'd;
The beam of wit from ſparkling genius brought,
Its fire chaſtis’d by cool directing thought;
Superior ſenſe, by paſſion ne'er betray’d,
The kindling tranſport, and the judging head,
The thought which Art and candid Taſte refine;
The generous wiſh, the feeling ſoul was thine.
Lamented ſtroke L-o loſt ſo late; fo ſoon!
'Twas heav'n beſtow'd, and heay’n recall’d the boon.
T 2
But
3
#
140
MISCELLANEOUS
But ah, what fighs our throbbing bofoms rend !
The helpleſs Orphan, Huſband, Father, Friend,
From burſting hearts the ſtream of Anguiſh fhed,
And pour their mingling ſorrows o'er thy bed.
We ſaw but late the budding roſes blow,
Like fruit that bluſhes on the bending bough;
But late th' unfolding bloſſoms breath'd perfume,
Till Death ftept in, and lopp'd them in the bloom.
.
Ye tender pair !* - as yet untaught to ſmart,
Too young to feel the Fiend's envenom'd dart;
Where now the lenient hand, th’indulgent breaſt,
The gentle voice that footh'd your fouls to reſt?
The tender Mother, who but lately near,
Kiſs’d from your ſwimming eyes the ſtarting tear ;
Who hung delighted o'er your infant charms,
Who claſp'd you ſmiling in her folding arms;
Saw in your look the forming wiſh begin,
And hulh'd to peace the little war within.
O GUILTLESS Innocence! ferene and plain,
How mild, how. welcome thy tranſporting reign!
The ſpotleſs Child of Harmony and Love,
Fair as the morn, and harmleſs as the dove,
That
* Her children.
P O E M $.
3
148
That views, unmov'd, the deep deſigns of Art,
Plays with the ſhaft that's pointed at its heart;
Beholds approaching ruin,-nor retires,
But meets the blow,—then feels it,--and expires.
Grier, cool and ſubtle, forms a bolder plan,
It ſpares the child, but preys upon the man;
Unſeen it moves, the work is ſure, though flow,
Thought, treacherous Thought! and Reaſon join the foe:
Too late th' unhappy vi&tim views his doom,
Laments the paſt, and dreads the woes to come.
Not thus unhing’d, thy former foul ſurvey'd
Th' impending cloud that blacken'd o'er thy head;
On Fortune's giddy wheel look'd greatly down,
Deſpis'd her ſmiles, nor trembled at her frown.
Intrepid, fearleſs when the Foe drew nigh,
Thy boſom heav’d with no untimely ſigh;
Then calm reflection ſteady and ſedate,
Then views ſuperior to the wrongs of Fate,
Then heav'n-born Virtue's keen directing ray
Pour'd through the deepning gloom the blaze of day.
So ſome proud rock projected o'er the tide,
O’erlooks an ocean thundering on its ſide;
Though
142
MISCELLANEOUS
Though gathering billows with collected force
Round, foam, and roar impetuous in their courſe;
Though o'er the ſeas the rapid whirlwinds ſweep,
Though ſtorms and tempefts work the madning deep;
It bears linſhaken its erected brow,
Nor dreads the wave that breaks and boils below.
Such was thy mind:—but O, how warm, how bright!
The languid pencil caſts too faint a light.
Now nobler views th' unpriſon’d ſoul inſpire.
Rapt by the themes that prompt the Seraph's lyre,
Thy mind elate ſurveys its former doom ;
Supreme o'er death, and ſmiling at the tomb.
Life foon expires, and though 'tis fancy'd long,
Youth dies a child, and Age itſelf is young:
Paſs but one cloudy ſcene,-'tis quickly done,
We leave the earth, behold the burſting noon,
Mount o'er the ſkies, reign, triumph, and adore,
Where Grief ſhall blaſt, and Death ſhall ſting no inore.
S
ta
"
то
-
"P o E M 3.
*
143
TO THE
MEMORY of Mr. H*** M***.
Α Ν
E L EGY.
F
AREWEL, ſweet ſhade; -- O juſt beheld and gone!
Lop'd like ſome bloſſom ere 'tis fully blown,
Bleft with each finer art that boaſts to pleaſe,
Wit, ſpirit, genius, beauty, taſte, and eaſe;
Whate'er informing Nature could beſtow,
Our pride and hope, our wonder, and our woe.
O early fled to the congenial ſkies !
Sent like ſome darting beam that flames and dies !
Some fire-rob'd cloud that
,
A glancing flaſh! then breaks and burſts away.
So ſhone thy ſoul;ếour wond'ring eyes ſurvey'd
The dazzling ray that brighten'd, gleam'd, and fled.
pours unuſual
unuſual day
As in ſome draught the ſoft'ning pencil flows,
And the warm bluſh of living beauty glows ;
The mental traits by Nature's pencil wrought,
Improy'd by learning, and refin’d by thought,
2
As
144
MISCELLANEOUS
As thro' ſome mirror's vivid medium ſeen,
Liv'd in thy look, and charm'd us in thy mien.
,
INFORMING: Art beſtow'd her genial pow'r,
To warm the ſoil, and rear the tender flow'r.
Ev’n Fortune ſmild by Reaſon once contrould,
And ſhook her glitt'ring plumes that flam'd with gold;
Pour'd all her ſtores, and gave thy form to move
With melting ſweetneſs, and the ſmiles of love.
At laſt Ambition came l-each young deſire
Felt her bold hand, and Alam'd with noble fire.
O glorious thirſt of praiſe! dear fatal flame !
That mounts the paſſions on the wings of Fame,
Like lightning ſprings to ſeize th’expected prey,
And ſtrikes the heart, and whirls the foul away.
+
'Twas this that bore Thee from thy country 'far,
To brave the deep, and court the ſtorm of war :
Ah ne'er again in careleſs eaſe to rove !
Ah ne'er to taſte the ſweets of filial love!
To paint the ſcenes where rage and war prevail !
To hang thy liſt’ning audience on the tale !
No more the joys of former loves to trace,
To melt with fondneſs in a Friend's embrace,
Or, ftruck with Nature's ſtrong reſiſtleſs charms,
To ſpring with tranſport to a Parent's arms.
O
PO E M S.
145
O fled unhop'd to find an early. tomb!
O loft untimely in thy vernal bloom !
No tender hand, no weeping kindred near,
No Friend, to ſtretch Thee on the fun'ral bier ;
No Parent's care to fold thy ſwimming eyes,
Kiſs thy pale lips, and catch thy dying ſighs,
Hang deeply-mournful, 'till their hearts o’erflow,
And melt in ſtreams of ſympathiſing woel
On ſtony breaſts th' infecting forrow ſtole,
And ſoft’ning Pity touch'd the Stranger's ſoul,
As bending o'er Thee ſtood the tribes unknown,
Ev’n Toil's rough boſom heav'd a burſting groan;
War’s grilly front the maſque of Anguiſh wears,
And Fury's marble heart was thaw'd to tears.
}
Yet whence the grief theſe folemn ſcenes inſpire ?
Why o'er thy inem'ry 'plains the mournful lyre?
Why weep thy fate ?-releas’d to heav'nly joys,
From theſe bleak climes of tumult, care, and noiſe :
Eſcap'd from Paſſion's rage, from Envy's ſnare,
The dreams of Grandeur, and the ſtings of care ;
From all that Love, Fear, Reaſon, Grief reveal,
The pangs we fanſy, and the pangs we feel.
O early call’d to join th' immortal throng!
Where no pale Care diſturbs thy ſweeter ſong ;
U
No
146 MISCELLANEOUS
No billows roar, no damp Contagions * riſe,
No frown appears o'er all the cloudleſs ſkies ;
But from the ſource of light, a brightning ray
Pours the warm funſhine of eternal day;
Angelic harps the ſprings of tranſport move,
And the ſoul melts in viſion, and in love.
$
From thence, perhaps, thy pitying eye deſcries,
What once Ambition thought a glorious prize ;
Looks down ſuperior on th’unequal ſtrife;
And marks us ſtruggling thro' the ſtorm of life.
So when the diſtant Mariner ſurveys
The low’ring tempeſt, and the boiling feas;
O'er their black boſom fees the whirlwind rave !
And the ſhip nodding on the ridgy wave !
He breathes the ſigh of Pity o'er the ſcene,
Then mid' the roar of thunder fits ſerene;
Peace waves her gentle olives o'er his head,
And his clos'd eyes ſleep ſweetly in the ſhade.
* This young gentleman (the only commanded by admiral Byng, in
hope of a family of dietinction in the which he was early promoted, as the
North of Scotland) died of a conta- . reward of his gallant behaviour on the
gious diſtemper on board of the fleet memorable 20th of May, 1756.
То
P 0 E M S.
147
To the Memory of the late pious
and ingenious Mr. HERVEY.
A
S rapt in thought the muſing mind ſurvey'd
The vain of life, and walk'd the deepning Shade;
O’er Care's broad empire caſts its trembling view,
And mark'd the flying traits that Fancy drew :
Her magic hand at once transform’d the ſcene,
And ſhow'd the ſpot where Hervey ſleeps ſerene;
Stretch'd where lone Silence haunts the ſolemn gloom,
Where Thought's keen eye explores the peaceful tomb,
Where Pleaſure's glitt'ring dreams at laſt are o'er,
And Love's ſoft muſic charms the ſoul no more.
Thrill’D as I view'd, the ſtreaming tears o'erflow,
From the big boſom burſts the ſighs of woe:
Her friend now loft * who taught the muſe to ſing,
Check'd her wild flight, and prun'd her trembling wing,
Whoſe candid praiſe with eager hope inſpir’d,
Whoſe cenſure chaſten'd, and whoſe genius fir’d;
Abaſh'd ſhe ſtood, her bold eſſays were vain,
Nor tun’d the harp, nor pour’d the plaintive ſtrain.
U 2
WHEN
+
* This and the five ſubſequent lines the Author had the honour to re-
allude to ſome perſonal favours which ceive from Mr. Hervey.
148
MISCELLANEOUS
het
When lo! unfolding from the blaze of light!
A Form all-beauteous flaſh'd upon the fight !
The robes of heav'n involv'd his dazzling frame,
And his eyes ſparkled with celeſtial fame :
High o'er his brow the waving radiance play'd,
An orient crown inclos’d his beamy head;
His lip with Beauty's fine vermillion glow'd,
And flow'rs ſpontaneous bloſſom’d as he trod.
'Twas GENIUS:--pauſing o'er the ſacred dead,
His bright eye languiſh'd, and the roſes fled,
His moan remurmur'd o'er the ecchoing vale,
His heav'n-wove robe hung looſen'd on the gale;
He ſnatch'd the lyre, and pour’d the melting lay
That ſtrikes the heart, and charms the ſoul away;
Dull Night fat liſt’ning on her cloud-wrapt throne,
And white-lip'd Anguilh curb’d the burſting groan ;
On Care’s wild thought the tuneful accents flow,
And founds melodious thrill'd the ear of woe.
“ O CALL'D at laſt th' Almighty's praiſe to ſing !
“ Where oft thy genius tow'r'd with daring wing!
“ Plac’d where no cares th' exulting with controul!
“ Bleſt with the joys that fir'd thry, kindling ſoul !
Though ſmiles no more the placid eye ſerene,
“ Nor rove the Graces o'er ſome pictur’d ſcene ;
".. Though
:
PO. E M. S.
149.
“ Though ſnatch'd from all thy boundleſs. hope deſign’d,
« When Life's full ſummer warm’d thy ripening mind:
" Yet not theſe themes the plaintive mufe detain,
Thy friend, thy country claims the mournful ſtrain ;
" Since loft each nobler plan thy ſoul had wrought,
“ Since ſtopt the ſtream of ſweet perſuaſive thought,
“ Fled the bright noon thy burſting blaze had giv’n,
“ And mute the voice that wrapt the ſoul to heav'n.
« Strow'd o'er thy page what beauteous traits appear!
" What melting muſic ſteals the liſt’ning ear!
“ 'Twas I whoſe pow'r the living picture caught,
rs 'Twas I whoſe pencil ting’d the glowing draught :
“ Thro' Death’s black gloom I trac'd thy dubious way,
" That kindred gloom, where Fancy loves to ſtray !
" Then led thee, circled with the laughing hours,
“ Where ſport young Zephyr o'er the waſte of flow'rs;
" With richer ſtrokes the warm deſcription wrought,
« And touch'd with tranſport all the ſprings of thought.
« Mine was the ray on Night's dim curtain thrown,
" And mine the glaſs where gay Creation ſhone;
“ Mine the bold wing that ſhot where Tempeſis riſe,
« And mine the fight that reach'd the ſtarry ſkies.”
He ceas'd :-for ſudden on the wond'ring gaze,
From heav'n's broad concave burſt, the rapid blaze !
At
150
MISCE L L A N É O US
1
Her eyes
At once deſcending from the realms on high,
An angel-ſhape arreſts the dazzled eye!
Looſe o'er her limbs the floating garment rollid,
Her ſparkling pinions Alam'd with beamy gold,
like lightning glanc'd a piercing ray,
And all th’illumin’d æther gleam'd with day!
Near as ſhe came, ſuperior though reſign'd,
Her Form majeſtic aw'd the dubious mind;
With heighten'd grace her bloomy features glow'd,
Free on her robe the mazy ringlets flow'd ;
Her balmy breath ambroſial ſcents perfume,
And o'er her cheek was pour'd celeſtial bloom.
Pale Sorrow brightned as RELIGION came,
And ſlow-pac'd Time ſtood trembling at the nanie;
Rage dragg’d in triumph ſwell’d her ſolemn train,
And Death behind her groan’d, and clank'd his chain.
She pausid, -and muſing o'er the fun’ral bier,
Sigh'd deeply-fad, and pour’d a tender tear ;
Then check'd its courſe; and brightning as the ſun
She look'd to heav’n ſerene, and thus begun :
“ Hail, thou eſcap'd to yonder worlds above;
“ Hail, join’d to faints that melt in ſtrains of love !
• At laſt 'tis come! the bright transforming day !
" Th’exulting ſpirit burſts, and ſoars away!
«
Looſe
2
P 0 E M S.
151
hand yon
« Looſe are its bars ! and gain’d th' immortal prize,
" It breathes of heav'n ſublime, and walks the ſkies !
“ But late my hand beauteous ſcenes diſplay'd,
« And led thy ſteps thro' Life's perplexing ſhade;
« The vivid wiſh a diſtant proſpect brought,
“ The rapt ſoul trembling o'er the verge of thought!
" Yet then what tranſport taught thy hope to ſoar !
“ How flam'd the kindling look that glanc'd it o'er !
“ How Fancy's touch the glowing draught refin'd!
« And light celeſtial pour’d upon the mind."
" A Race unborn thy genius ſhall inſpire,
" And ſouls yet dark’ned catch ſublime deſire.-
" When to thy page, in ſome ſequeſter'd bow'r,
“ Calm muſing Thought devotes the ſerious hour :
« Juſt when Aſpaſia’s ſtrain has warm'd the breaſt,
" When Quiet ſoothes the ſettling ſoul to reſt;
“ Then ſhall my hand ſuperior pow'r impart,
" Then Love's perſuaſive lay ſhall melt the heart ;
" Then ſhall Religion's pureſt beams be giv’n :
« Now reſt in Peace.”--She ſaid, and ſoar'd to heav'n,
THE
152
MISCELLANEOUS
*
Τ Η Ε
Third Chapter of H A B A K K U K
PAR A P H R AS E D.
+
W RAPT
RÁPT in the blaze of bright ſurrounding flame,
Fromi Paran’s lofty brow th’ ALMIGHTY came :
All heav’n with terror view'd His riſing frown,
His dazzling eyes with living ſplendor ſhone,
Blaz’d the blue arch I th' eternal"portals glow!
Each rocking mountain bow'd,' and groand below!
A troop of ghaſtly phantomes ſtrode before,
Blue blaſting Plague, and War that floats in gore;
Loud Fury, roaring with tumult'ous cries,
And frantic Pain that tears" her burning eyes ;
Revenge, 'that boils like ſome fermenting flood,
Grief that conſumes, and Rage that weeps in blood.
--
On Judah's broad domain He caſt His view;
His eyes all-radiant piercing as He flew!
Then mark'd its bound, and with one ſtern command
Th’affrighted nations ſhook,and ſwept them from the land.
Then heav'n-bred Terror ſeiz'd on ev'ry ſoul,
And rock'd the labouring earth from pole to pole;
Creation
%
$
2
PO È M S.
153
Creation totter'd at the dreadful ſound !
Groan'd all the hills! and burſt the ſolid ground !
The ſweeping winds each tow'ring mountain bear
Full on their wings, and whirl them in the air !
***
On Cuſhan's tents He ain'd a fatal blow,
And Midian trembled at th' Almighty Foe.
He call’d the deep :-its tumbling waves obey;
Th' aſtoniſh d flood rolld back to make Him way!
Whence roſe His ire ? did ere the flood diſpleaſe
Its God ?-or raged His fury on the ſeas?
When Iſrael's wond'ring hoſts Jehovah led,
Why ſhrunk the backward rivers to their head ?
Why roar'd the Ocean from its inmoſt caves ?
What arm repreſs’d, and frože the boiling waves ?
O'er its broad bofom heav'n's Eternal rode,
The waves divide before th' advancing God!
In heaps the cleaving billows lay o'erthrown,
He ſtopp'd their courſe, and touch'd them into ſtone
Lo, where he comes l_deſcending from afar
In all the pomp of deſolating war!
His cloudy brow with frowning vengeance low’rs,
And burſting round the forky thunder roars.
See His red arm unſheaths the ſhining ſpear !
The glitt'ring blade hangs naked in the air !
X
It
154
MISCELLANEOUS
It rends the rock from all its guſhing veins
A ſwelling deluge burſts, and pours along the plains.
Hark, He commands I-obedient to His will,
The pale Moon quakes, th' arreſted Sun ſtands * ftill!
Earth hears and ſhakes, devouring tempeſts riſe,
Thick clouds and whirlwinds blacken all the ſkies ;
Tremble the poles !—in wild confuſion thrown
Sink the fteep Hills,--th' eternal Mountains groan. .
What dire portents my wond'ring ſoul affright!
What ſcenes of terror ſwim before my fight!
See mighty Babylon (ſo heav'n ordains)
The ſcourge of God 1 ſtalks wildly o'er our plains !
Sweeps like fome ſwelling flood our hoſts away,
Or ſwift as lightning ſprings, and graſps the prey.
1
Yer fear not, Iſrael, at his dreadful ife ;
Thou fav'rite child of heav'n's exalted Sire!
What though pale Rage, in her triumphant car,
Drives o'er thy fields, and ſounds the blaſt of war !
What
* The Author is ſenſible that there of the words to any other, as it is ex-
may appear ſome impropriety in this actly conformable to the original, and
ſentiment, as it is ſeemingly repugnant as it may be ſuppoſed to refer only to
to the ſyſtem of COPERNICUS. He the marianiof.che ſun round his own
choſe however to prefer this meaning axis.
PO E MS.
t55
What though thy warriors load the purple plain !
Though bellowing Slaughter ſtrides o'er heaps of Nain !
Though Horror numbs thy ſenſe, and freezes ev'ry vein!)
'Tis thus thy God makes boaſted might ſubſide,
Thus ſpurns His foes, and bends the brow of pride:
Yet know, thoſe wounds avenging Juſtice gaye,
Stern Ire impelld, but Mercy meant to ſave.
Triumphant Mercy! that exalts the low,
Sighs o'er th' oppreſs’d, and melts at human woel
Wipes ev'ry tear, bids pining Anguiſh ceaſe;
And pours o'er all the healing balm of peace.
)
But ſee once more th' intrepid Victor near!
The ſhouts of battle thunder on my ear 1
Mark, mark yon yielding throng l’tis Iſrael Alies !
Groans, noiſe, deſpair, and tumult rend the ſkies.
I faint: o'erpow'r'd beneath the whelming flood,
Wild numbing Grief congeals my creeping blood;
I ſee, I ſhudder at th' approaching train !
My lips too quiver with convulſive pain :
Fix'd dumb with horror at this dreadful blow,
I ftand-a fpeechleſs monument of woe !
Yet, Mighty God be all my pow'rs reſign'di
And thine each nobler hope that warms the mind.
Then
156 MISCELLANEOUS, &C.
i
Then though no more to crown the peaſant's toil,
The bleeding olive ſtream with ſacred oil ;
Though figs no more their leafy tendrils join,
Though ſcorching lightning blaſt the budding vine
Though the rough ſteed lie panting on the plain,
Nor wave th' autumnal fields with golden grain :
Yet ſhall my ſoul-thy wond’rous grace proclaim,
Yet this fond heart ſhall triumph in thy name:
When o'er the earth Thou wav'ſt th'avenging rod,
When Nature trembles at an angry God;
When the bold breaſt, with terror not its own,
Shakes at thy voice, and withers at thy frown;
Then by no ſtorms diſmay’d, no fears depreft,
In Thee my ſoul ſhall find perpetual reſt;
O’er me fecure thy hov’ring wings ſhall ſpread,
And Sleep's mild opiate bleſs my peaceful bed *.
* The Reader will eaſily obſerve or even omilted others, and given ſuch
that this chapter hath been paraphra- a turn to the reſt, as may convey moft
ſed with ſome liberty. The beauties perſpicuouſly the meaning of the Pro-
of it are thick fown. The expreſſion phet. Upon the whole, he hath en-
is uncommonly ſublime, the figures deavoured to paint ſome ſtriking feas
bold, the painting rich, and the de- tures; but where he found it impoſſi-
ſcription animated. The Author hach ble in any meaſure to equal, he had not
enlarged on ſome verſes, tranſpoſed the temerity of attempting to imitate
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