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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
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 //X/>'>'^^ r^^i^ ^^«-e-o.-^K/^ 

 
 KOSCIOSKO 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY HUNTINGFORD, LL.B. 
 
 Agora ta Calliope. 
 
 Inspira immortal canto, e voz divina 
 Neste peito mortal, que tanto te ama ! 
 
 Camoens, Os Lusiadas, Canto iii. St. I. 
 
 jfincbester: 
 Printed by JAMES ROBBINS, College-Street.
 
 TO THE 
 
 PR 
 43 \ 7 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE rf *^/Xf -4 
 
 The lady LUCY FOLEY. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 SOME of the following Verses 
 were written amid the romantic and picturesque 
 Retreats of Abermarlais. This Volume, there- 
 fore, could scarcely have been dedicated to any 
 one more properly, than to Her, by whom the 
 original Beauties of that Estate have been so 
 materially improved. The propriety of this 
 measure will be still more apparent to Those, 
 who are acquainted with your Ladyship's Taste 
 in every thing connected with Polite Literature. 
 
 I have the Honor to remain, 
 
 With great Respect, 
 Madam, 
 
 Your Ladyship's 
 Most obedient humble Servant, 
 
 HENRY HUNTINGFORD.
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 It is requested that the following Collec- 
 tion of Verses may meet with that Indulgence, 
 which, with respect to Poetry, appears at the 
 present Day to have been carried to its utmost 
 possible Extent. 
 
 The Composition of some Part of this Collec- 
 tion served as a Relaxation to the Author's Mind, 
 when wearied with the less interesting, though 
 more useful, Employment, of correcting Press, 
 and performing the comparatively mechanical 
 Duties of a mere Editor.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Kosciosko — Part I I 
 
 Advertisement, 3 
 
 Kosciosko — Part II ^. 17 
 
 On a favourite Arbour, ST 
 
 On leaving Scotland, 39 
 
 "Written at Winchester College, 43 
 
 To a Friend in Scotland, 47 
 
 ^ On Bums, at Dumfries, 50 
 
 Stanzas written in the Night, 52 
 
 Verses left in a romantic Summer-house, 54 
 
 Stanzas written at the Devil's Bridge, 57 
 
 To a Lady, who had lent the Author a Watch,. • 59 
 
 Sonnet, 61 
 
 Sonnet, 62 
 
 Stanzas, 63 
 
 Kelso, 65 
 
 Imitation of Petrarch, 68 
 
 Spenser, 71 
 
 Imitation of Camoens,. 74 
 
 Caraoens, 78 
 
 Dante's Inferno and Paradiso, 83 
 
 -Handel, 86
 
 KOSCIOSKO. 
 
 PART THE FIRST.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 jPOJR his account of Kosciosko, the Author con- 
 sulted M. de Segur, as referred to by Bigland, m his 
 " History of Europe, ^^ in two vols. 8uo. London^ 181 J. 
 
 Few Readers probably require to be informed, thai, 
 towards the close of the last Century, Poland was attacked, 
 stripped of her Provinces, and at length totally dismem" 
 bered, by the Courts of Austria, Russia, and Prussia; 
 and that this Usurpation was nobly though tmsuccessfuUy 
 resisted by the gallant Kosciosko.
 
 KOSCIOSKO. 
 
 Part the First. 
 
 seggcndo in piuma. 
 
 In fama non si vien, ne sotto coltre ; 
 
 Sanza laqual chi sua vita coasuma, 
 Cotal vestigio in terra di se lascia, 
 Qual fiimmo in aere, od in acqua la schiuma. 
 
 Daniels Inferno, c. xxiv. v. 47. 
 
 in vaiti the slumbering soul aspires, 
 
 (Her powers betrayed by sloth, extinct her fires,) 
 In vain she tries the dazzling heights of fame: 
 As morning fogs disperse to meet no more. 
 As the waves close behind the laboring oar, 
 The dastard soul expires without a name. 
 
 Boyd.
 
 KOSCIOSKO, 
 
 Fart the First: 
 
 LIVES there, whose bosom swells not with delight, 
 When nations strive against injuriotis might, 
 Whom Heaven upholding with resistless ann 
 Strikes in his turn the Tyrant with alarm ? 
 Ages to ages tell the glorious deeds 
 Of Him, who for his injured Country bleeds ; 
 His name each Tongue with extacy repeats, 
 Each Heart, remembering Him, with rapture beats.
 
 8 
 
 Such, KosciosKO, is thy well-earned fame, 
 Thy brilliant deeds such lasting glory claim, 10 
 
 Fit to descend, till time itself expire, 
 In loftiest strains, replete vnih. Poets fire ; 
 Yet should the task some humbler Bard essay, 
 While o'er the lyre his trembling fingers stray. 
 Yet scorn him not, though to the heights sublime 1 5 
 
 Of nobler Bards he vainly hope to climb ; 
 Unskilled may be his hand, yet glows his breast 
 With love for thee, too strong to be represt. 
 
 The brilliant flames of glory now were fled, 
 Which played of old around Polonia's head ; 20 
 
 Those laurel wreaths neglected, withered, torn. 
 Which long, victorious, her brows had worn ; 
 Blasted abroad beneath despotic sway. 
 Within, to factious rage a constant prey. 
 
 Her state how changed, from when her wide domains 25 
 Comprized within their reach those ample plains.
 
 *From where Borysthenes through many a soil 
 
 Rolls on, and ends mid Euxine waves his toil ; 
 
 To where the Oder through Germania flows, 
 
 And in the northern Baltic finds repose. 30 
 
 Or when o'er Russian snows the crimson tide 
 
 Shed by a PoUsh hand their lustre dyed ; 
 
 When Moscow's glittering domes, with gold o'erlaid, 
 
 The victor + Son of Sigismund obeyed ; 
 
 And on the ifCremhn, to the tempest tost, 33 
 
 Polonia's flag grew stiff with morning frost. 
 
 § Germania's eagles once their pinions proud. 
 
 And towering necks, to PoHsh valour bowed, 
 
 What time imperial j| Caesar, struck with awe. 
 
 The horse-hair plume, the glittering crescent saw. 40 
 
 * Poland, in the eleventh century, extended from the Oder, 
 as far as the Dnieper. Bigland, Vol. i. p. 73. 
 
 + Udislaus, son of Sigismund, was declared Czar, and Mos- 
 cow was in the hands of the Poles, A. D. 1613. Bigland, Vol. i. 
 p. 115. 
 
 t The citadel of Moscow. 
 
 S John Sobieski, King of Poland, compelled the Turks to 
 raise the siege of Vienna, A. D. 1683. Bigland, Vol. i. p. 115. 
 
 II The Emperor of Germany.
 
 10 
 
 Those clouds of dust, and that Barbarian cry. 
 
 Gave dreadful presage that the foe was nigh ; 
 
 When hark ! that shout from thousand voices sent ! 
 
 Great Sobieski's name the air has rent. 
 
 As when the Son of Peleus, roused once more, 45 
 
 Stands on the trench, through which the Trojans pour; 
 
 His voice congeals their coward hearts with fear. 
 
 They fly, nor stay to feel the Hero's spear ; 
 
 So faint the Turkish bands at that great name, 
 
 Well known amid the murderous hsts of fame ; 60 
 
 Who oft the Turban's folds had stained before, 
 
 Whose blade had revelled oft in Moslem gore. 
 
 The Paynim Host, of this well mindful, wheels, 
 
 Cold on their throbbing breasts chill horror steals ; 
 
 Her gates Vienna opes, released from dread, 55 
 
 And calls down blessings on the Victoir's head. 
 
 To hear such deeds recounted by his sire, 
 Oft glows the youthful cheek with martial fire, 
 And Nobles, mid their walls and feudal state, 
 Indignant weep their country's altered fate ; 60
 
 11 
 
 She, to •whom suppliant Monarchs sued for aid, 
 Now tumbled into dust, and prostrate laid. 
 
 Yet lives there one, who feels severer woe, 
 Whose tears, by pity wrung, more largely flow; 
 By pity and disdain, to see his land 65 
 
 An abject thrall beneath the tyrant's hand. 
 
 Long had such mingled grief and rage possest 
 The noble Kosciosko's care-worn breast ; 
 That name, which endless ages shall revere ! 
 That name, to every generous bosom dear ! 70 
 
 Yet not to Europe's regions first displayed 
 The Sun-beam danced upon his youthful blade. 
 He o'er tlie main had urged his fearless way, 
 Where wide Atlantic rules with boisterous sway ; 
 Had reached the Shore, whose unexpected view 75 
 
 Warm tears of rapture from Columbus drew. 
 Whence thus to toil in distant climes consigned? 
 What cause so mighty swayed the patriot's mind ?
 
 AsTv not the Man, whom sordid thirst for gold 
 
 A heartless slave to hoarded wealth has sold ; 80 
 
 Ask not the Man, in whose ambitious breast 
 
 Stern lust for power all feeling has represt ; 
 
 Nor can He say, whom sensual Vice has cloyed 
 
 With pleasures, dearly bought, yet ne'er enjoyed ; 
 
 But hves there one, of more exalted mind, 8A 
 
 Whose thoughts by heavenly Virtue are refined, 
 
 Let him declare, what torments wrack the Soul, 
 
 What struggling tears, in spite of manhood, roll. 
 
 To find the bands, by purest passion tied, 
 
 Rent, rudely rent, by cold unheeding Pride ; 90 
 
 To feel that Hope, sweet Soother of despair, 
 
 Will not to him one smile of comfort spare ! 
 
 Such, KosciosKo, was the thrilling dart, 
 
 Which, steeped in bitterest gall, had rived thy heart. 
 
 She, who was formed with thee to stem the tide 95 
 
 Of changeful life, in hohest love allied; 
 
 She, whose sweet charms might adverse hours beguile, 
 
 Who e'en to prosperous days might add a smile ; 
 
 She from thine arms was torn, ere yet the light 
 
 Of nuptial torch had cheered thy longing sight. 100
 
 13 
 
 * Another comes, with larger weahh endowed, 
 
 Who boasts a hne of Ancestry more proud. 
 
 Must then those holy vows, that love divine, 
 
 Fall, helpless v-ictims, at this impious shrine ? 
 
 E'en thus it is, but ill befall thg man, 105 
 
 Who such disdainful tyranny began ; 
 
 Who could despise affection tried and pure, 
 
 And basely grasp at groveling Mammon's lure; 
 
 Nor feel, that, while from Want's oppression freed, 
 
 Hearts, truly hnked, no ties more brilliant need. 1 10 
 
 The Youth, to hopeless sorrow thus consigued,+ 
 Indignant hastens from those realms unkind, 
 Those realms, where nought of comfort meets his view, 
 But foul disturbers of attachment true. 
 He seeks those plains where War uprears his front, 115 
 And burns to bear the combat's deadliest brunt : 
 
 * Prince Lubomyrsky. 
 
 f Che abisso di pene 
 Lasciare il suo Bene, 
 Lasciarlo per sempre, 
 Lasciarlo cosi! Metastasio.
 
 14 
 
 There, while around destructive engines roar, 
 
 He might unheard his blasted hopes deplore ; 
 
 There might he stand, while hostile files engage. 
 
 And view, with vacant eye, the battle rage ; 120 
 
 Perchance the glittering pomp of War's array 
 
 Might steal some portion of his grief away ; 
 
 Perchance at least, sonriC arm, with friendly blow, 
 
 JMiglit grant a sudden close to all his woe. 
 
 Just then the Founders of an infant State 125 
 
 By martial deeds were struggling to be great. 
 They breathe resolved defiance as they go, 
 With Washington his Chief, who dreads the Foe ? 
 Recoil not, Briton, at the hostile name. 
 Nor grudge to Him the well-earned meed of fame ; 1 30 
 To hear his Foe's renown, his worth to hail. 
 None but the envious Coward's cheek turns pale. 
 
 The exiled Youth, by this sage Veteran led, 
 Learns the sure path of Victory to tread.
 
 15 
 
 Bold in the field, yet wise his hand to stay, 135 
 
 And waste a Foe's resources with delay. 
 
 Thine head, illustrious Youth, fresh laurels crdWR, 
 May wondering Nations swell thy just renown ; 
 That skill in counsel, and that martial fire, 
 Too soon, alas! thy Country shall require ; 140 
 
 On thee alone shall fix her fainting eye, 
 And in thy bosom breathe th' afflicted sigh. 
 O'er many a clime are borne a Nation's cries. 
 Wafted by many a wave its misery flies. 
 Soon o'er Atlantic floats the dreary sound; 145 
 
 " Polonia prostrate ! groveling on the ground ! 
 *' Her glory trampled on, her rights betrayed, 
 *' Her ancient laurels withered and decayed." 
 Such words, like thunderbolts, the Youth appal, 
 No Patriot needs a more persuasive call. 150 
 
 Ye Zephyrs breathe a soft and favouring gale, 
 Calm the perturbed waves, and swell the sail.
 
 16 
 
 No canvass e'er, for weightier cause unfurled, 
 
 Wafted a pinnace from the Western World. 
 
 On thee, Polonia's hope, our vows attend, 155 
 
 Towards thee alone our anxious eye we bend ! 
 
 May He, whose power beats down tyrannic sway, 
 
 Mid storms and billows gently guide thy way ; 
 
 Thee to thy gasping land in mercy lead, 
 
 Her strength in weakness, and her help at need. 160 
 
 END OF THE FIRST PART.
 
 KOSCIOSKO. 
 
 PART THE SECOND.
 
 KOSCIOSKO 
 
 Part the Second. 
 
 Finche un Zefiro soave 
 
 Tien del mar I'ira placata, 
 
 Ogni Nave 
 
 E^ fortunata, 
 
 E^ fclice ogni Nocchier, 
 E^ ben prova di coraggio 
 
 Incontrar I'onde funeste, 
 
 Navigar fra le tempeste, 
 
 E non perdere il sentier. 
 
 Metastasio. Ezio, Att. i. Sc.13.
 
 KOSCIOSKO. 
 
 Part the Second* 
 
 EUROPE, what fatal slumber closed thine eye, 
 Whence rose in vain that faint imploring cry ; 
 Where was thy mighty arm, so oft renowned, 
 From which the weak a sure protection found ; 
 When thy base Offspring, with ambition fired, 
 Against Polonia's hapless land conspired ? 
 She cast around in vain her drooping head, 
 Those ancient foes of tyranny were fled ; 
 
 C3
 
 23 
 
 Or looked, at best, with eyelid half upraised, 
 
 And, coldly curious, on her sorrow gazed. 10 
 
 Yet in her own domains a sacred Band 
 Burns with impatience to defend their land ; 
 To tear his booty from th' insulting foe, 
 And with sure stroke to deal the vengeful blow. 
 
 Yet who for them shall fan this noble fire, 15 
 
 With counsel sage their heedless breasts inspire ? 
 Shall teach their generous fury when to rage, 
 And when its force with wisdom to assuage ? 
 O brave defenders of an injured State, 
 Your valiant arms e'en yet fresh triumphs wait; 20 
 
 Ye are not left by Heaven, a Chief is near. 
 Whose Heart ne'er fluttered with unmanly fear; 
 Who hears unmoved the gathering storms advance. 
 And eyes Misfortune's frown wth dauntless glance.
 
 23 
 
 O'er Ocean swift he glides with sail unfurled, 25 
 
 Sent back with glory from the western World ; 
 Straight to Cracovia's walls he bends his course, 
 "Where thousand Patriots hail their last resource ; 
 On KosciosKo their fond hopes are placed. 
 With ensigns of high power the Chief is graced ; 30 
 
 A Nation bows obedient to his hand, 
 His Will the Law, his Voice the sole Command. 
 
 But hark ! — what sounds of tramphng fill the sky ? 
 The hastening scouts retreat, the foe is nigh ; 
 Those savage Wanderers o'er a frozen clime 35 
 
 Haste on, obsequious instruments of crime ; 
 They hope the youthful leader to surprise. 
 And quench the general ardour ere it rise. 
 Vain thought! when just resentment fires the breast, 
 What eye despises not inglorious rest 1 40 
 
 " Let them advance !" with eager voice resounds; 
 From brandished steel a warlike clash rebounds. 
 *' No need of swords !" the indignant peasant cries, 
 Impatient rage far different arms supplies. 
 
 C4
 
 24 
 
 That scythe which late was wet with glistening dew, 45 
 
 Ere night a sanguine torrent shall imbrue. 
 
 (Thus when, Helvetia, through each alpine vale 
 
 Curs'd GaUia's shout swelled fearful on the gale, 
 
 And crystal lakes, abodes of calm delight. 
 
 The triple flag reflected with afiriglit; 50 
 
 Thy valiant sons left each his dear domain. 
 
 Where laboured harvests clothe the rocky plain. 
 
 Sworn foes to rapine, veiled in Freedom's dress, 
 
 And those who murder whom they most caress.) 
 
 What strength can long resist a patriot band, 5 5 
 
 Who rush to arms for their afflicted land ? 
 Freedom prevails, the dastard Russians fly, 
 Nor dare abide their foes indignant eye. 
 
 But in Varsovia's walls '• the brazen throat 
 Of War" sends forth a far more hideous note ! <30
 
 S5 
 
 Their hapless * Monarch, framed for peaceful hours, 
 
 Not formed to brave the tempest when it lours. 
 
 Prepares to grant, at Russia's stern decree. 
 
 His subjects arms, which still were left them free. 
 
 Insulted patience can endure no more ! — 65 
 
 Bursts sudden through the air the wild uproar ! 
 
 Each house a Hero }nelds, on every side 
 
 Combat unlooked for pours the crimson tide ; 
 
 The Russian vainly deals his murderous fire, 
 
 With deadlier fury glows the conflict dire ; 70 
 
 Prone from each roof beam, stone, and ball descends, 
 
 One general, dismal shriek Heaven's concave rends. 
 
 Nor, Saragossa, from thy walls renowned 
 
 Was heard to rise a more tremendous sound, 
 
 WTien, fainting with thy wounds, yet undismayed, 75 
 
 Thou mad'st e'en Gallia's veteran lines afraid. 
 
 * Stanislaus Augustus, \fho, had he possessed more firmness 
 of mind, might perhaps have prevented the dismemberment of 
 Poland.
 
 26 
 
 'While rages thus the wild tumultuous fight, 
 A host from far advancing meets the sight. 
 A.t hand the hastening squadrons soon appear, 
 A name well known salutes the listening car. 80 
 
 From mouths unnumbered bursts the rapturous cry, 
 " Great KosciosKO comes, relief is nigh!" 
 The Foe, amazed at this unlooked-for sight. 
 Quick through the adverse gate directs his flight ; 
 No longer dares within the walls appear, 85 
 
 Rout, havoc and dismay hang on his rear. 
 
 The patriot Chief arrives, whose thoughtful mind 
 No smiles of Fortune lull, no triumphs blind; 
 He the impetuous tumult wisely quells, 
 And on the Future with deep foresight dwells ; 90 
 
 Sees that the Foe, with shame redoubling rage, 
 Will soon, returning, fiercer combat wage. 
 •' Man then your walls," he cries, " your ramparts raise, 
 " Who loiters now, his country's cause betrays." 
 Swift at his word is hushed the wild misrule, 95 
 
 To peaceful order changed, submission cool ;
 
 Each to his post repairs, his home to save, 
 With still defiance armed, and calmly brave. 
 
 Nor vain their thoughts ; ere long might be descried 
 Embattled squadrons, stretching far and w'^ide ; 100 
 
 Its folds to Heaven full many a banner flings, 
 Earth with the M'heels of rattling ordnance rings ; 
 High in the midst, on streamers gaily deckt. 
 The royal Bird of Prussia soars erect. 
 
 Now, mid black wreaths of smoke, with deafening roar, 
 Their ponderous showers the deep-mouthed engines pour ; 
 The Bomb, now past its destined course in air. 
 With instant burst emits a lurid glare. 
 Nor from the walls with less tartarean sound 
 The instruments of Fate spread death around ; 110 
 
 There Courage frowning sits, and deals her blow, 
 Hurling defiance on the plains below. 
 Thus when their course conflicting tempests urge, 
 With fiercer madness raves the boiling surge ;
 
 28 
 
 Loud howls the storm, swoln billows foam on hi°-h, 115 
 At the wild contest trembles earth and sky ! 
 
 At length the Sun's declining rays expire, 
 And stars illumine Heaven with softer fire; 
 Their strife the adverse Hosts reluctant cease, 
 The engines hushed, repose in short-lived peace. 120 
 But when, at dead of Night, her sable cloud 
 Envelops Nature in one dusky shroud. 
 With cautious silence through each sleeping band 
 The Prussian Monarch sends his swift command ; 
 Bids them their hasty march begin, ere day 125 
 
 Shed on their movements its unwelcome ray. 
 He sorrowing views, with what determined might 
 The patriot Poles maintain their desperate fight; 
 Deems it but vain such efTorts to oppose, 
 And waste his strength against unyielding foes. 1 30 
 
 When first the mom's soft-blushmg gleams appear. 
 From Warsaw cheerful shouts break on the ear ;
 
 ?29 
 
 With grateful hearts to Kosciosko turned. 
 
 All to his skill ascribe the triumph earned; 
 
 His dauntless words with hope their breasts inspired, 135 
 
 His ardent eye the soul most abject fired. 
 
 Need have ye now of courage, valiant Band, 
 New toils approach, fresh conflicts are at hand. 
 The surge, which late flowed gloomy to the shore, 
 Will round you soon in billowy mountains roar. 140 
 
 Look ! what a force draws near with hasty tread, 
 Its front as far as eye can reach outspread ; 
 Ambitious Catharine from her vast doniain 
 Pours forth her countless myriads o'er the plain ; 
 Barbarian Cossacks with wild shouts advance, l45 
 
 And couch with vigorous arm the extended lance. 
 
 Let danger chill with dread the coward soul I — 
 O'er Kosciosco Fear has no controul. 
 He fires with daring thoughts his followers brave, 
 " To victory or death, your land to save!" 150
 
 30 
 
 Not one delays, but, to their country true. 
 E'en against hope rush on the gallant few. 
 
 Now joins each Host, and, at the direful sight, 
 Carnage looks down, and screams with fell delight ! 
 Fiercely the lion springs, when, wild with pain, 155 
 
 Through many a bristling spear he leaps amain j 
 But fiercer far, with more impetuous course, 
 Polonia's dauntless sons their passage force. 
 Awed and amazed the Russian hues give way. 
 And, though in strength surpassing, feel dismay. 160 
 
 And now their wavering front with impulse slight 
 Might soon be driven to seek inglorious flight ; 
 The Poles might soon be graced with vast renown, 
 And Victory o'er their heads suspends her crown ; 
 When, to the right, new sounds assail the ear, 165 
 
 And crowding legions, fresh for fight, appear.
 
 SI 
 
 * Foulest of traitors, who, enticed by gold, 
 
 Thy hapless land to tyranny hast sold ; 
 
 Suffered the hostile bands, from left to right, 
 
 In one overwhelming torrent to unite ! 170 
 
 Their arms with toil benumbed, or wrung with pain. 
 
 How shall the fainting Youths this weight sustain ! 
 
 Yet each approaching death unmoved surveys, 
 
 And calmly hails his life's declining rays. 
 
 But chief in Koscio8Ko's sparkling eye 175 
 
 Hope yet appears, combined with courage high ; 
 
 Till all around, by gathering swarms opprest, 
 
 His friends in Honour's cause have sunk to rest ; 
 
 Then, scorning longer life, his nerves decayed 
 
 He nobly strains, and bares his glittering blade j 180 
 
 Slays all around, and, at life's hngoring close, 
 
 Spreads havoc and amazement through his foes. 
 
 Ah see ! that generous effort is but vain ! 
 
 Ill can each stiffening nerve his arm sustain ; 
 
 * Treachery or gross mistake induced General Poninski to de- 
 liver up a post, by which a second Russian Army, under Gene- 
 ral Fersen, was enabled to join the first, under General 
 Suwarroff. 
 
 ,Sef Bigland, as before.
 
 32 
 
 Ere long, alone amid such thousands left, 185 
 
 He falls, by countless wounds of sense bereft. 
 
 AV^herc now thy hopes, Polonia ? all are fled ! 
 Grief in dark clouds hangs gloomy o'er thy head ! 
 Thy champion soon, restored to hated day, 
 Will march a sorrowing captive far away; 190 
 
 Doomed in cold vaults to drag the clanking chain, 
 The bitterest dregs of * female wrath to drain. 
 Yes, KosciosKO, soon, with lawless sway, 
 Princes, like ravening wolves, will rend the prey; 
 Dart on their plunder with rapacious hand, 19,'> 
 
 Glut their ambition, seize thy wretched land ! 
 
 Yet, gallant chief, what dungeon's dark recess 
 Will e'er avail thy glory to suppress ? 
 
 * Catharine tarnished the glories of her reign, by the impri- 
 sonment of a man, who, thoii£;h an enemy, was from his valour 
 intitled to her respect and admiration. It was reserved for the 
 Kmperor Paul to gain credit by restoring to liberty so illustri- 
 ous a character.
 
 3S 
 
 With * Those who, nobly prodigal of life, 
 
 Waged in their country's cause unequal strife ; 200 
 
 With + Him, whom Mantinea's plain surveyed 
 
 Smiling at death, alone for Thebes afraid ; 
 
 With that great Band thy briUiant fame will shine. 
 
 Till ^Memory o'er the World her power resign ; 
 
 Where'er thy steps through distant regions stray, 205 
 
 Renown shall gild thy path with deathless ray; 
 
 Entwine thy brow Avitli wreaths of endless bloom, 
 
 Laugh at Destruction, and defy the Tomb ! 
 
 * Leonidas and his followers. 
 + EpamJnondas. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 ]}
 
 ^imllmzon^ l^otrns-
 
 37 
 
 ON A FAVOURITE ARBOUK 
 
 O THOU cool sequester 'd Bower, 
 Pleasing solace to the miud ; 
 
 Calm retreat in sultry hour. 
 Beneath thy leaves I lie reclined. 
 
 Of Tyrian purple though no vest, 
 Nor golilen couch, iny liinbs receive; 
 
 Yet Solitude here lulls to rest, 
 And pleasing sounds my cares relieve. 
 
 Oft, as entranced in thought I lie. 
 Fierce quarrels seize the feather'd tribe ; 
 
 With eager chirpings round they fly, 
 Their little breasts new rage imbibe. 
 
 D3
 
 38 
 
 Within the covert of thy shade 
 The clamorous sparrow builds her nest ; 
 
 And, fluttering through the sylvan gladf. 
 With care maternal fills her breast. 
 
 This joy, which knows not anxious Wealth, 
 Nor in the splendid Mansion lives ; 
 
 Combined with rosy smiHng HeaUh, 
 Sweet Solitude her votary gives.
 
 39 
 
 ON LEAVING SCOTLAND. 
 
 THE fatal hour is come, — a long farewell, 
 Blest Caledonia, to thy much loved shore ; 
 
 Still could I linger, and with rapture dwell 
 On scenes which I must view, alas ! no more. 
 
 * Findhorn, whose wild majestic banks along 
 Luxuriant Nature spreads her wildest sweets ; 
 
 How once I loved, remote from busy throng, 
 Myself to lose amidst thy deep retreats I 
 
 * A romantic river in Murrayshire.
 
 40 
 
 Oft gazing wliile the torrents, thundering hoarse. 
 Like ravenous tigers rushing to their prey, 
 
 Through narrow* passes urged their furious course, 
 And dashed alolt in air the shining spray. 
 
 But I no more, as erst, unseen shall hie, 
 While dew-drops glisten by thy foaming tide, 
 
 In morn's fresh hour to search with curious eye 
 The fruits which grow spontaneous by thy side I 
 
 + Divy, whose wave rolls on of brownest hue, 
 Whose scenes, though humbler, yet more sweetly smile; 
 
 No more by thy dark stream shall I pursue 
 Those paths which oft the wanderer's steps beguile. 
 
 * These narrow passes through rocks, are called in Scotland 
 Ij/ns, hence Ilosslyn, &c. 
 + Another River in Murrayshirc.
 
 To Those who near thy banks from tumults rest, 
 Who me so oft received with friendship true ; 
 
 Say thou, whate'er may be my fate, this breast 
 The stain of vile ingratitude ne'er knew ! 
 
 But chief thou Stream, who, when fell tempests rave, 
 And when from heaven descends the sweeping rain, 
 
 Pourest along thy far resounding wave, 
 With rage assailing *Altyre's fair domain ; 
 
 Oh to that race, that blissful race, which there 
 Domestic joy in sweet retirement knows, 
 
 Oft as thou murmurest by, this wailing bear, 
 Which from my grateful breast unbidden flows ! 
 
 Ask them from much-beloved friends if e'er 
 Imperious fate has torn them far apart ; 
 
 * An Estate in Miirrayshire.
 
 42 
 
 Then unsincere my grief let them declare, 
 And say if feigned sorrow fill my heart. 
 
 Ah by thy wave I could with joy remain, 
 And spend in calm repose the gladsome hour ; 
 
 Forget the World, which heaps up cares in vain, 
 No longer swayed by its tyrannic power ! 
 
 It must not be ! cease then these fruitless plaints, 
 
 These tears, alas ! too unavailing flow ; 
 
 Such happy scenes as pleasing Fancy paints, 
 Were ne'er designed for Mortals here below. 
 
 Those who with me have walked in Virtue's way, 
 And joyed with me to learn her sacred lore • 
 
 When once is past life's feverish anxious day. 
 Shall meet again, and meet to part no more!
 
 48 
 
 TVritten at Wiscuester College, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 FIRST MORNING OF THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS, 
 
 RECLINED aloft on Wykehaxn's antique towers 
 Fair Science sits, while Morn's dim twilight lours ; 
 At length arrives the hour, expected long — 
 Through opening gates rush forth the impatient throng. 
 By Science not unheard ; with wild dismay 
 She loudly shrieks, and rends her garments gay. 
 Thrice, pierced with woe, she heaves the deep-felt sigh, 
 The encircling walls thrice eccho to her cry ! 
 Say then, ye Nymphs, who by old Itchin's wave, 
 That wave which gently rolls, your tresses lave ; 
 Say how the God, when these sad plaints were heard, 
 Above the crystal stream his head upreared.
 
 44 
 
 Doflarc how Catharina's fir-clad mound 
 Trembled widi horror at the monmnd sound ! 
 Such fear she ne'er had felt, since * Danish foes 
 In martial squadrons on her summit rose. 
 Mute and amazed each listening Naiad stood, 
 While Science thus her tale of woe pursued : 
 " What silence reigns within these walls profound, 
 Where late the voice of Joy was heard to sound ! 
 Are then from me my Sons for ever fled. 
 Must shame eternal veil my wretched head ? 
 For now no more shall Learning's holy fire 
 Willi virtuous thoughts exalted breasts inspire: 
 No more the peahng Organ shall prolong 
 Its aweful strains, and wake the sacred song. 
 Mourn, Itchin, mourn ! along thy placid tide, 
 Where thousand rills the emerald meads divide. 
 Those shouts of joyous sport shall sound no more. 
 But thou unseen, unheard, thy waves shah pour. 
 
 * This hill is said to have been formerly a Danish fortifica- 
 tion.
 
 45 
 
 And ihou too, Catliarina, whose ascent, 
 
 With manthng verdure deckt, rich flocks frequent, 
 
 No more shall Wykeham's Sons in long array 
 
 Climb to thy summit by the steepy way ; 
 
 Nor youths mid winding paths with eager pace 
 
 Thy labyrinth's perplexing mazes trace." 
 
 Thus Science wailed, deep smitten with despair, 
 
 And to her woe responsive sighed the air; 
 
 When lo from Itchin's bank, with herbage green, 
 
 A smiling Nymph upreared her head serene ! 
 
 Attentive had she heard that maid forlorn, 
 
 AVhose sorrowing cries on the soft gale were borne ; 
 
 She knew full well the Care which racked her breast, 
 
 And thus in accents mild her plaints represt ; 
 
 " Fair Science, let not Griefs envenomed dan 
 
 For ever thus transtix thy labouring heart. 
 
 What though these hallowed walls thy Sons have left, 
 
 And of thy boasted joy thou art bereft ? 
 
 Cease this complaint ; ah ! let thy Sons awhile 
 
 Haste to their much-loved homes with gladsome smile ! 
 
 Nor, though \vith deep distress thy bosom heave, 
 
 Of this long hoped-for pleasure them bereave.
 
 46 
 
 "W^hcn some fond hours of joy have fled away, 
 When sure, though slow, returns th' appointed day ; 
 Pleased shall thou hear hoarse creaking hinges grate, 
 While thy Sons enter through the expanded gate ; 
 Their solemn vests thou shall again behold 
 Float with the breeze in many a sable fold ; 
 Melodious Choirs shall then with Songs of Praise 
 The Soul from Earth in heavenly transports raise; 
 Then Itchin, as before, thy banks along, 
 Shall crowd in numerous tribes the sportive throng ; 
 In morn's refreshing season shall thou view 
 Unnumber'd footsteps dash the glistening dev? ; 
 Then, Calharina, up thy sides again 
 Shall wind in Order long the sable-vested train ; 
 And on thy top, with loveliest pastures gay, 
 Shall pass with ancient games the festive day".
 
 47 
 
 TO A FRIEXD IN SCOTLAND, 
 
 In return for so7ne Landscapes. 
 
 THOUGH on the canvass as we raptured gaze, 
 From Titian's pencil hues niore perfect smile ; 
 
 Though wild Salvator more our wonder raise, 
 And Raphael every gentler sense beguile ; 
 
 Yet e'en from these I turn my careless eyes, 
 Nor heed what skill so wond'rous has pourtrayed: 
 
 But haste, my friend, while grateful thoughts arise, 
 To view those lovelier scenes by thee displayed.
 
 48 
 
 Thine heart no vulgar thirst for glory fired, 
 Nor base Ambition, leagued with secret Pride; 
 
 But thee a kinder, nobler wish inspired, 
 The call of Friendship was thy pencil's guide. 
 
 For this, at Evening's twilight liour, whene'er 
 Alone I haunt the deep sequestered glade ; 
 
 'J'o thee my thoughts shall turn, and wish tliee there, 
 To catch the fleeting landscape e'er it fade. 
 
 Ah think how oft with thee my steps would stray. 
 To mark the billows rolling o'er the sand ; 
 
 Or some old Castle's mouldering fort survey, 
 And weep the rage of Time's relentless hand. 
 
 Those times are gone, for ever fled away ! 
 Divided now by many a league, no more 
 
 Through heath-clad vales shall we together stray, 
 Or early listen to wild Ocean's roar !
 
 49 
 
 Wliai wonder then, if I with raptiiro dwell 
 On works which prove thy mind on mo intent ? 
 
 For Fancy to my listening mind shall tell, 
 That those once much-loved scenes I still frequeni. 
 
 Oh ! as thou wanderest by swift * Findhorn's tide, 
 Or where the sea-beat + Cowsea's arches nod ; 
 
 Let but his image through thy memory glide, 
 Who once with thee those paths delighted trod ! 
 
 Oft shall this thought my heart with rapture fill, 
 That, though thy blest retreat I may not view, 
 
 Yet in that land my soul can wander still, 
 And fresh remembrance former joys renew ! 
 
 * A river in Murrayshire. 
 
 f A. curious rock on the shore of the Murray Firth, which, 
 being excavated by the sea, has the appearance of artificial 
 arches. It resembles, and is thought by some to equal, the 
 Bullers of Buchau at Peterhead in Aberdeenshire. 
 
 E
 
 50 
 
 * On hearing:, when at Dumfries, 
 
 That BURNS, who was buried there, had no Monument 
 erected to his Memory. 
 
 SWEET Bard ! than whom no Minstrers art 
 More deeply moves th' enraptured heart ; 
 Shalt thou in death unhonoured lie, 
 No tomb, no beauteous statue nigh ; 
 While, stored with wealth, in genius poor. 
 So many rest in pomp secure ? 
 
 * Since these lines were written, the Author has been in- 
 formed, that it is in contemplation to erect a monument to the 
 memory of Burns. To the credit, therefore, of Dumfries, the 
 sentiments contained in the a^ovc lines are net now applicable.
 
 ^51 
 
 * Thou badst all Nature weep thy friend, 
 Shall none to thee rich trophies send ? 
 Yet thee the Cushat in the grove 
 Bewails, forgetful of her love ; 
 The little harebells droop their head, 
 Nor care to bloom, now thou art dead ; 
 The owlet from yon aged tree 
 Through the still midnight wails for thee! 
 Shall man then, heedless of thy Muse, 
 The sculptured urn to thee refuse 1 
 He, + Coila, first to glory raised 
 Thy land, before unnamed, unpraised. 
 The Nine such base neglect upbraid, 
 Such rich deserts so ill repaid; 
 Enraged they leave thy shores unkind, 
 To dull BcEotian air consigned ! 
 
 * In explanation of this, and the eight following lines, the 
 Reader is referred to Burns's " Elegy on the death of Matthew 
 Henderson," in which genuine poetry, (if there be any such 
 thing in the 'World,) is to be found in the most luxuriant 
 abundance. 
 
 + The name of a district of Ayrshire, in which Burns was 
 born. 
 
 E2
 
 52 
 
 * TTRITTEN 
 
 IN THE MIDDLE OF A NIGHT, 
 
 In February, 1807. 
 
 WRAPT in the dusky gloom of Night, 
 Triumphant rides upon the blast 
 
 The Genius of the Storm ; 
 Trembles the Wretch with wild affright, 
 Within whose breast, with guilt aghast, 
 
 Conflicting horrors swarm. 
 
 * During the whole of this night there blew a tremendous 
 Hurricauc, in consequence of which occurred many shii)wrcclis.
 
 53 
 
 Ill-fated they, from Albion torn, 
 "Who, bound to some far distant shore, 
 
 Are lashed by Ocean's wave ; 
 I hear methinks the shriek forlorn 
 Of him who, while mad billows roar, 
 
 Sinks to his watry grave. 
 
 Father of Heaven ! whose outstretched arm. 
 And might, e'en thundering storms obey, 
 
 These * antique walls defend ! 
 While whirlwinds make with dire alarm 
 On prouder domes their boisterous way, 
 
 O'er these thy Power extend! 
 
 * Within which the Author was living. 
 
 £3
 
 54 
 
 LEFT IN A SUMMER-HOUSE 
 On the Banks of a beautiful Stream in South Wales. 
 
 Questo e il porto del nioodo ; e qui il rcstoro 
 Delle sue noje, c quel piacer si sente, 
 Che gia senti ne' sccoli dell' oro 
 L' antica e senza fren libera gentc ! 
 
 Tasso, La Gerus. Lib. C. xv. St. 63. 
 
 FAIREST of Nymphs, who, as in murmurs low 
 Through these blest seats thy bubbhng streamlets flow, 
 * Hauntest some grot, upon whose mossy green 
 The print of mortal footstep ne'er was seen ; 
 
 * In this passage, the Author (according to the idea preva- 
 lent among the Ancients) conceives the Goddess of the Stream 
 to be sitting in some distant grotto, and holding in her hands 
 an Urn, from which flow the Waters of the River. " The ha- 
 bitations of the River Deities were supposed to be under 
 water; and generally, I believe, somewhere near the place 
 whence each river took its rise; where, if there was any grotto, 
 they usually had some figure of the presiding deity of the 
 stream in it, with his urn, and the waters gushing out of it, to 
 denote the source of the river." 
 
 Spence's Polymdis, fol. ed. p. 226.
 
 55 
 
 * While loftier Bards, with lyre more nobly strung, 
 Thy flowery banks, thy whispering Rills have sung ; 
 Ah scorn not one, who, of far humbler flight, 
 Views but with distant glance the Aonian height ; 
 Content as yet to cull those flow'rets sweet, 
 Which bloom unfading at its hallowed feet! 
 
 To + Her, whose hands, with unobtrusive Art, 
 Fresh grace to thy transparent Streams impart, 
 In cadence soft these grateful Lays rehearse, 
 Nor let disdain reject the humble Verse. 
 Oft as She seeks thy Shore with pensive tread, 
 A calm, before unknown, around Her shed ! 
 And as She strays at Evening's twilight hour, 
 Let Elves lead up the dance around this Bower; 
 
 * A Sonnet, written by a Gentleman of superior talent, had 
 been already affixed to another of the rustic Pillars of this 
 Summer-House. 
 
 + The Lady, to whose taste this delightful spot is indebted 
 for a great part of itjs beauty, 
 
 E4
 
 5G 
 
 Let Harps unnumbered, hid from mortal sight. 
 
 Charm Iler enraptured Soul with soft delight! 
 
 Then, while around the unearthly Strains combine 
 
 Her Thoughts to swell with ecstacy divine, 
 
 Let Fancy whisper to Her wondering Mind, 
 
 That She has left tiie ^Vorlll, the busy AN'orld, behind!
 
 m 
 
 * WRITTEN AT THE DEVIKs BRIDGE, 
 
 CARDIGANSHIRE. 
 
 INVOLVED in clouds of whitening spray, 
 Which ghsten mid the smiling Morn, 
 
 Impetuous Mynach roars j 
 And as He makes his furious way, 
 Earth's fairest gifts and flowers adorn 
 
 His steep tremendous Shores. 
 
 * The above Lines are founded on a story, which relates, 
 that close under one of the largest I'alls of the Mynach, at the 
 Devil's Bridge, a Robber toQk up his Habitatiou in a Cave, 
 ■wliich the AVaterfall ahiiost concealed from sight, and whither 
 he could carry his plunder unobserved.
 
 58 
 
 \Vliat shriek was that, what piteous yeli, 
 That faintly stole along the glen, 
 
 And died upon the gale? 
 'Twere shame the dreadful deeds to tell, 
 Which, far from busy haunt of men, 
 
 Pollute this guilty vale ! 
 
 They say that by the Torrent's side, 
 (They say, for who himself could dare 
 
 Such horrors to survey 1) 
 A loathsome Cavern opens wide. 
 Where ruthless sons of murder tear 
 
 Daily their helpless prey. 
 
 The suffering shriek, a moment heard, 
 Soon as the thundering torrents swell, 
 
 Sinks in their angry din; 
 Fell kites, with eager wing upreared, 
 While screams their savage raptures tell, 
 
 The bloody feast begin.
 
 59 
 
 VERSES 
 
 Sent with a Watch to a Ladij who had lent it for some 
 lime to the Author. 
 
 THOU wondrous Work of human art and power, 
 Which showest as it flies the passing hour ; 
 To Her, who to my use thee long consigned, 
 Convey the Tribute of a grateful Mind. 
 Tell Her how oft, unseen, my raptured eye 
 Has marked successive moments hurrying by ; 
 Say, to my shame, full many a day has fled 
 Without improvement o'er my careless head ! 
 While Heaven in wisdom here commands Her stay, 
 Still show to Her how fast life flits away ;
 
 60 
 
 May She * rejoice, whene'er She looks at thee, 
 That nearer draws the Day when all are free. 
 Though here awhile to sojourn well content, 
 Yet be Her mind on happier scenes intent. 
 Till that great Morning dawn, expected long, 
 (Transporting thought, raise high the sacred song !) 
 When us no trifling pleasures shall detain, 
 But Peace and Joy triumphant e'er shall reign ; 
 When Time itself shall vanish, swept away 
 By one Eternity of endless Day ! 
 
 * Qual si lamcnta, perche qui si muoja. 
 Per viver cola su, non vide quive 
 Lo rcfrigerio dell' ctcrna ploja. 
 
 Dante, It Paradiso c. xiy. 1. 25.
 
 61 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 BEHOLD yon Captive, from close dungeon freed, 
 Whose weary limbs the fetter long has galled, 
 Whose Soul black clouds of Horror have appalled, 
 
 See with what joy he treads the smihng mead! 
 
 Who his overflowing ecstacy can tell. 
 To view again the Sun's enhvening ray 
 Its light no longer through dark grates convey, 
 
 But gaily dance o'er lawn and flowery dell ! 
 Yet joy thus great shall yield to our delight. 
 When the tired Soul, long pent in tedious night, 
 
 Shall feel her earthly bands for e'er untied, 
 And, bursting through the azure Vault above, 
 
 Shall soar to Heaven, where Sons of Light abide 
 In Bliss unspeakable, and endless Love !
 
 62 
 
 SONNET, 
 
 ON A BACKWARD SPRjyC. 
 
 SPRING has returned, yet Zephyr's genial gale 
 Breathes not with softness o'er th' enamelled plain; 
 Black clouds send down the chill tempestuous rain, 
 
 And wintry storms the tender Buds assail. 
 
 No feathered choirs, concealed from curious eyes, 
 Sing mid the covert of the leafy glade ; 
 But, of the boisterous whirlwind's force afraid, 
 
 In mournful silence wait serener skies. 
 
 Thus is it e'er below ! — the landscape gay, 
 Which to its smile our eyes enraptured drevr, 
 Soon as we, eager, catch a nearer view. 
 
 Swifter than airy phantom glides away ! 
 
 Happy for Man! for nobler Climes designed, 
 
 He forces thus from Earth his Ungering mind.
 
 m 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 While listening to th' autumnal Blast, 
 Which, o'er the Forest raving hoarse, 
 
 Its leafy havoc deals ; 
 His breast with horror shrinks aghast, 
 Whose friend far distant steers his course, 
 
 And Ocean's fury feels ! 
 
 No sapling bows beneath the gale. 
 Which shakes not him with trembling fear, 
 
 Or wets his sorrowing eye j 
 He sees in that the shattered sail. 
 In every breeze he seems to hear 
 
 The faint expiring cry.
 
 But him, who, rapt ■with Poet's fire, 
 With wildest genius loves to stray, 
 
 No troublous visions scare ; 
 Ilim with hii;h thoughts such storms inspire, 
 His Soul with Fancy steals away. 
 
 And cleaves the buoyant air. 
 
 While steering thus his lofty flight, 
 Celestial voices whisjier sweet 
 
 Amid the Tempest's roar ; 
 Spirits on all sides, pure as light, 
 The air with rusding pinions beat. 
 
 And on the whirlvviud soar.
 
 65 
 
 * KELSO. 
 
 AS + winding round, adown the steepy way, 
 Kelso, thy towers burst sudden on our sight ; 
 
 The grateful scene with raptiu-e we survey. 
 So formed to raise and cherish sweet delight. 
 
 Then pleasing most, if, at the close of day, 
 The Sun its softly blending radiance shed ; 
 
 While lengthening shadows o'er yon Abbey play. 
 And golden beams its moss-clad height o'erspread. 
 
 * It will be sufficient merely to state, for the information of 
 those, who have never seen the town of Kelso, that it contains 
 the ruins of an Abbey, erected by David the First ; that the 
 Teviot here falls into the Tweed; and that on the Banks of the 
 latter River is Fleurs, a Scat belonging to the Dukes of Rox- 
 burgh. 
 
 + Winding, round, adouln, express the approach to Kelso, 
 from Jedburgh.
 
 66 
 
 Tweed, while thy wave rolls on with wide expanse, 
 Receiving tribute from fair Teviot's tide ; 
 
 Fancy to ages past directs her glance, 
 
 And Memory's power commands a compass wide. 
 
 Ye antique Walls, whose pillared arches frown 
 
 With height majestical on all below, 
 Oft have ye heard Death's pale Horse trampling down, 
 
 To lay successive tribes of Mortals low I 
 
 Where now those valorous Knights, and Barons bold, 
 The ornament and flower of Roxburgh's race ? 
 
 Tweed pours his thoughdess stream, and wets the mould, 
 Where Death enwraps them in his chill embrace. 
 
 Where now those Strains, which through the vaulted choir 
 From stops of deepest sound were wont to rise ? 
 
 Strains, which might e'en a Heart of stone inspire, 
 And waft the dullest Soul beyond the skies !
 
 67 
 
 All, all are gone ! and, to lament their fate, 
 Deserted Mourners, ye are left alone ; 
 
 Like * Her, whose anguish fabling Bards relate, 
 By unavailing grief congealed to Stone. 
 
 Yet when arrives that great, that awful Day, 
 
 Your towers, which now such stately forms assume, 
 
 Sudden like baseless fabrics shall decay. 
 
 Dissolved and crumbled mid the general Doom ! 
 
 * Niobe. 
 
 F2
 
 m 
 
 * IMITATION OF PETRARCH, 
 
 BEHOLD that Mead, with flow'rets ever new, 
 Whose brilliant turf disdains the emerald's hue ; 
 There wouldst thou seek repose, there gladly lay 
 Thy weary limbs throughout the livelong day. 
 Trust not to Beauty's charms — mid this fair scene 
 Of faacied Bliss, the Serpent lurks unseen ! 
 While thou liest slumbering by the crystal flood, 
 He whets his murderous fangs, and thirsts for blood. 
 E'en such is life, — we fools, by Vice betrayed, 
 Rush headlong on the snares around us laid; 
 
 * The Author begs it (o be understood, that he aimed onlj 
 at an imitation, and not a literal translation, of the above ex- 
 quisite Composition; his object was merely to represent the 
 general scope and leading design of the Italian Sonnet; this 
 remark applies also to the " Imitation of Camoeas," page, 74,
 
 69 
 
 PETRARCA, SONETTO LXXYIII. 
 
 Questa vita terrena e quasi un prato, 
 
 * Che '1 serpente tra' fiori e 1' erba giace ; 
 + E s' alcuna sua vista agli occhi piace, 
 E^ per lassar piu I'anirao invescato, 
 
 Voi dunque, se cercate aver la mente 
 Anzi I'estremo di queta giammai, 
 Seguite i pochi, e noa la volgar gente.— 
 
 * Che here stands for ove, where. ' 
 
 + The Mastery, which our corrupt Affections too often exer- 
 cise over Reason is illustrated, in Metasta^io, by a Compari- 
 son, which, though perhaps conducted with too great minute- 
 ness, is nevertheless full of the characteristic elegance, which 
 
 F3
 
 70 
 
 While Sin allures us, smiling as we go, 
 
 And reckless of the Gulf which yawns below ! 
 
 But ye, who aim at that securer joy. 
 
 Virtue's reward, unmixed with base alloy ; 
 
 Shun the vain Crowd, who urge their senseless way. 
 
 Nor know themselves of endless Death the Prey ; 
 
 Spurn the enamelled Mead, and follow straight. 
 
 Where Heaven directs us, and where Crowns await! 
 
 that polished Writer never fails to display, when he introduces 
 a moral Sentiment ; 
 
 Siam navi air ondc algenti 
 Lasciate in abbandono ; 
 Impetuosi venti 
 I nostri afietti sono ; 
 Ogni delitto d scoglio, 
 Tutta la vita ^ mar. 
 Ben qual nocchicro in noi 
 Veglia Ragion; ma poi 
 Pur dair ondoso orgoglio 
 Si lascia trasportar. 
 
 VOUmpiade, Att. li. Sc. &,
 
 n 
 
 SPENSER. 
 
 em quanto a cithara sonora 
 
 Se estimar pelo mundo, 
 Com som douto e jucundo, 
 
 Tereis gloria immortal ! 
 
 CamoenSf Od.vii. 
 
 LEAD me to yon sequester'd vale, 
 Which no tumultuous sounds assail ; 
 "Where, amid flowers of lovely hues, 
 A stream its winding course pursues ; 
 While, on the banks of brilliant green, 
 Rusted Spears and Helms are seen.
 
 72 
 
 Here Spenser sits, and lends his ear, 
 While pleasing Fancy whispers near. 
 Reflecting deep on ages past, 
 On that old tower his eyes are cast, 
 Whose crumbling walls, with ivy crowned. 
 The crystal streamlet murmurs round. 
 Here he surveys, with mental eye, 
 The barbed steed that prances by ; 
 Those Fairy Knights, who o'er the plain 
 With lances couched rush on amain; 
 Misshapen monsters vainly roar, 
 And prostrate sink, to rise no more. 
 
 Lives there, sweet Bard, whose tasteless soul 
 Can hear unmoved thy numbers roll ? 
 If such there be, with just disdain 
 Leave him to grovel on the plain ; 
 Doomed ne'er to taste that sacred rill, 
 Found only on the Muses Hill.
 
 73 
 
 But let me wander by thy side, 
 Where * bubbling streamlets gently glide ; 
 Or tempt with thee that woodland glen, 
 Which echoed ne'er the voice of men ; 
 But Fairies oft by pale moonlight 
 Lead up the dance with footstep light ; 
 While strange unearthly notes resound. 
 And magic whispers sigh around. 
 Oh grant me thus with thee to stray, 
 From hfe's dull cares Ear far away ! 
 
 * The Author here alludes particularly to that beautu'ul de- 
 scription of a fountain, — Fairy Queen, B. vi. C. x. St. 7. 
 And at the foot thereof, a gentle flood 
 His silver Waves did softly tumble down, 
 
 Unmarred with ragged Moss, or filthy Mud; 
 Ne mote wild Beasts, ne mote the ruder clown 
 
 Thereto approach, ne filth mote therein drown : 
 But Nymphs and Fairies by the Banks did sit 
 
 In the Wood's shade, which did the Waters crown, 
 Keeping all noisom things away from it, 
 \nd to the water's fall tuning their accents fit.
 
 74 
 
 IMITATION OF CAMOENS. 
 
 O MUCH loved stream, whose waves, as crystal bright, 
 Beneath * Coimbra's learned turrets glide ; 
 
 Where Hope was wont to lure my youthful sight, 
 And promise joys, too oft, alas ! denied; 
 
 Thy peaceful shores I leave, and bend my way 
 
 Far hence, to plains where unknoA\"n streamlets roll ; 
 
 Yet, while Remembrance holds her wonted sway. 
 Oft shall thy pleasing im£|ge charm my soul ! 
 
 * A celebrated Portuguese University, on the Banks of the 
 Mondego, in which Camoens received his education.
 
 75 
 
 CAMOENS, SONETO CIX. 
 
 DOCES agoas e claras do Mondego, 
 Doce repouso de minha Iembran5a, 
 Onde a comprida e perfida esperanca 
 Longo tempo apos si me trouxe cego ; 
 
 De vos me aparto, mas nao nego, 
 Que inda a memoria longa que me alcanga, 
 Me nao deixa de vos fazer mudan9a, 
 Mas quanto mais me alongo, mais me achego.
 
 76 
 
 Though, doomed to feel Misfortune's chastening power. 
 My earthly frame unnumbered dangers brave ; 
 
 Though o'er my helpless head the tempest lour, 
 And on all sides the gathering billows rave ; 
 
 E'en then my Soul shall quit the troublous scene, 
 And seek, on Fancy's wing, Mondego's shore ; 
 
 There wander pleased along his margent green, 
 And on the glassy brook in rapture pore !
 
 n 
 
 7 
 
 Bern pudera Fortuna este instromento 
 D'alma levar por terra nova e estranha, 
 Offerecida ao mar remote e vento ; 
 
 Mas a alma, que de ca vos acompanha, 
 Nas azas do ligeiro pensamento. 
 Para vos, agoas, voa, e em vos se banha.
 
 78 
 
 CAMOENS. 
 
 O THOU, most worthy heir of deatliless fame, 
 Whom * simplest Fancy for her Votary owns ; 
 
 O Thou, tliy Country's glory and her shame, 
 Thy piteous fate each nobler breast bemoans ! 
 
 * That pastoral simplicity, which pervades the Writings of 
 Camoens, must deeply penetrate, with a deliglit, sensibly felt 
 but impossible to be described, cTcry real admirer of poetry.
 
 79 
 
 Methinks I see thee by * Mondego's shore, 
 Where + crystal streams through lovehest X herbage ghde ; 
 
 Tuning thy strains, replete with classic lore, 
 In cadence with the soft meandering tide. 
 
 That lyre which charms Coimbra's learned ear, 
 Is doomed alas! to brave severest woej 
 
 To sooth thine anguish in some sojourn drear, 
 To lull the fiercest grief that man can know ! 
 
 * Camoens, delighted with the remembrance of the happy 
 retreats, in which he had passed his Youth, as yet unmolested 
 by those cares, which afterwards pressed so hard upon him, 
 often recurs with pleasure to the Banks of the Mondego, near 
 which, (in the University of Coimbra,) he had received his 
 Education. Thus he celebrates its praises, Lusiad, C. iii. 
 St 97. 
 
 Fez primeiro em Coimbra, &c. 
 In the same Canto, St. 120. he speaks of the 
 
 Saudosos campos do Mondego — 
 And in St. 135. 
 
 Vede, que fresca fonte reg a as flores — 
 See also Sonnets 109. 134. 200. Cancam ivth. Second Col- 
 lection of Sonnets, Sonn. 24. 
 
 t Doces agoas e claras do Mondego — Sonn. 109. 
 So, Sonnet 134. Delgadas agoas claras do Mondego — 
 t • . . .do Mondego a/eriil erva. Lusiad, C. iii. St. 97.
 
 80 
 
 Disastrous Exile! that ungrateful Land, 
 Whose *Heroes owe to thee their lasting praise, 
 
 Leaves thee + to wander o*er the distant strand. 
 And X spurns with tasteless pride thy dulcet lays ! 
 
 * Camoens complains of this, Lusiad, C. vii. St. 81. 
 Senao que aquelles, que eu cantando aadava, 
 Tal premio de ineus versos me torQassem ! 
 + The distress which Camoens felt, at being obliged to live 
 in exile from his country, gave rise to some of his most beau- 
 tiful Poetry. In the seventh Canto of the Lusiad^ St. 80, he 
 thus laments — 
 
 Agora com pobreza aborrecida 
 Por hospicios alheos dcgradado, — &c. 
 ^ Camoens bewails this hard treatment, with a simplicity 
 unspeakably affecting, in the tenth Canto of the Lunaiy 
 
 St. 145. 
 
 Nao mais, Musa, nao mais, que a Lyra tculio 
 Destemperada, e a vo2 enrouquecida, 
 E nao do canto, mas de ver que veuho 
 Cantar a gente surda e endurecida. 
 O favor, com quo mais se accndc o engenho, 
 Nao no da a patria nao, que estA metida 
 No gosto da cubi^a, e na rudeza 
 De huma austera, apagada, t vil tristeza '.
 
 81 
 
 Thus thou, deserted, to the Tomb wilt sink, 
 Dragged by unpitied sorrows to the grave ; * 
 
 No friend to pluck thee from th' impending brink. 
 No generous arm thy faultering life to save ! 
 
 Yet see ! what airy forms thy corpse surround I 
 The mournful + Nymphs of Tagus thee deplore ; 
 
 What lyre shall sweetly now for them resound ? 
 Those hands are cold as death, to move no more ! 
 
 * The Portuguese Scholar has often read with compassion 
 the inscription on the tomb of Camoens — ydqui jaz Luis de Ca- 
 moenSf Principe dos Poetas de seo tempo ; viveo pobre e miseravel~ 
 mente, e assi morreo — Here lies Louis de Camoens, Prince of the 
 Poets of his age ; he lived in poverty and wretchedness, and he died 
 in the same condition, 
 
 + Camoens often addresses these Nymphs by the Name of 
 Tagides. — See Lus. C. i. St. 4. Sonnet 41, second collection, 
 and many other passages. 
 
 G
 
 82 
 
 Yet, *Lusltania, shall a glittering ray 
 Of endless glory round thy Bard be shed ; 
 
 While thou, to hstless indolence a prey, 
 Shalt mourn thy fame and former triumphs fled. 
 
 * Portnpfal, so called from Lnso, the conlpanion or son of 
 Bacchus, from tii'bom the Portuguese were said to be de- 
 scended.
 
 83 
 
 DANTE'S 
 
 INFERNO AND PARADISO. 
 
 HENCE! ye fresh, enamelled meads, 
 And thou resplendent Orb of Day ; 
 
 To scenes more dreadful Dante leads, 
 Where winds the dark terrific way. 
 
 What Shapes infernal round me wait! 
 What screams of torture fill the air ! 
 
 What * lines o'er the Tartarean grate 
 Trace the sad accents of despair ! 
 
 * Alluding to the inscription over Hell gates. Inferno^ C. iii. 
 V.9. 
 
 " LascJate ogni speranza voi che 'ntrate — " 
 
 G3
 
 84 
 
 Her scourge * Alecto whirls on high, 
 And o'er the portal frowns subUme; 
 
 Fierce fury sparkhng in her eye, 
 Her hand erect to punish crime ! 
 
 Haste, O haste, direct my flight 
 From these distressful scenes of woe ; 
 
 These realms of torment and affright, 
 Where Anguish deals his deadliest blow ! 
 
 * Few descriptions can be more sublime, than that of the 
 dreadful Ciuards which beset the Gate of Hell, and of their 
 horrible form suddenly arresting Dante's attention; — Inferno, 
 C.ix. V.35. 
 
 Peroccho I'occhio m'avea tutto tratto 
 Ver Talta torre alia cima rovente, 
 Ove in un punto vidi dritte ratto 
 Tre Furie infernal di sangue tinte — &c. 
 
 th' unfinished word 
 
 Broke off, succeeded by a sigrht abhorr'd. 
 Hovering on high, amid tlie folding fires, 
 Three female Forms, with recent blood embrued. 
 On the tall Battlements in Council stood ! 
 
 BOTO.
 
 85 
 
 Lead to those soft elysian vales, 
 Where Joy reigns fearless of decay, 
 
 Where Pain his victim ne'er assails, 
 Nor dares his withering scowl display !
 
 86 
 
 HANDEL. 
 
 Quahmque naelodia piij dolce suona 
 Qua giu, e piu a se Tanima tira, 
 Parebbe nube che squarciata tuona, 
 
 Comparata a1 sonar di quella lira. 
 
 JOante, II Paradiso, C. xxiii. v. 97, 
 
 WHILE, as the Organ's deep-toned numbers roll, 
 Majestic Handel breathes his mighty soul; 
 And through the air those solemn strains ascend, 
 To which e'en Angels might well pleased attend ; 
 Whence eager thus, (entranced with new delight,) 
 Far from the groveling Earth to steer our flight;
 
 87 
 
 Whence strains each nerve, whence heaves the labouring 
 
 breast, 
 With struggling thoiights and feelings nigh opprest? 
 Is it, that Contemplation soars away 
 To happier regions, climes of endless day ; 
 Where, from blest Saints, with radiant glory crowned, 
 The * thousand times ten thousand lyres resound ? 
 O from those heights sublime with what disdain 
 Turns the dejected Soul to Earth again ! 
 
 * Dante gives the following descriptions of the Harmony 
 heard in Heaven, in his Poem of H Paradiso, in which, 
 among much that is uninteresting in itself, and unsuited to 
 Poetry, there frequently occur passages of inconceivable 
 Sublimity ; — 
 
 Al Padre, al Figlio, alio Spirito Santo, 
 Comincio gloria tutto "1 Paradiso, 
 Si che m' innebbriava il dolce canto. 
 
 Canto xxvii. v. i. 
 
 -^come giga ed arpa, in tempra tesa, 
 Di molte corde fan dolce tintinno 
 A tal da cui la nota non e intesa ; 
 
 Cosi da' lumi che li m'apparinno 
 S' accogliea per la Croce una melode 
 Che mi rapiva sanza intender 1' inno. 
 
 Canto xiv. 1. 118.
 
 88 
 
 Compelled to meet once more the tasteless throng, 
 By life's resistless torrent forced along ! 
 
 O blissful Hour, when us no earthly band 
 Shall stay, sad Exiles, from our promised Land ; 
 Where strains shall sound, unknown to mortal eai-. 
 Which Handel shall himself with wonder hear I 
 Shall yield the prize, and meekly tune his lyre. 
 The humblest Seraph mid that Heavenly Choir ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
 WINCHESTER : 
 
 Printed by Jas. Robbins.
 
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