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POETICAL WORKS 
 
 .THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 I 
 
 Well may they 
 
 On equal terms with ancient wit engage, 
 Nor mighty Homer fear, nor sacred Virgil's page, 
 Our English palace opoo? wide in state, 
 Ancf without stooping they may pass the gate. 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW; 
 EDINBURGH; AND NEW YOKK. 
 
 MDCCCLXl. 
 
94) 
 
 LIVES 
 
 THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 THE remains of Dryden were scarcely cold when Pope rose to 
 eminence, and Pope had not attained to middle age when the 
 fame of the Author of the Seasons was established. 
 
 JAMES THOMSON was born at Ednam, near Kelso, on the 7th 
 of September 1700. His father was minister of the parish in 
 which his son was born, but shortly afterwards removed to that 
 of Southdean, a lonely but romantic district in the heart of the 
 Cheviots. Here Thomson spent his boyish years ; and here he 
 first gave evidence of that poetic spirit which long afterwards 
 shone forth so brightly in the Seasons. 1 
 
 1 Allan Cunningham was fortunate enough to discover a fragment 
 written by Thomson at the age of fourteen, which shows how early his 
 style was formed. It was first published in 1841, in a memoir prefixed to 
 &n illustrated edition of the Seasons. 
 
 " Now I surveyed my native faculties, 
 And traced my actions to their teeming source; 
 Now I explored the universal frame, 
 Gazed Nature through, and, with interior light, 
 Conversed with angels and unbodied saints, 
 That tread the courts of the Eternal King 1 
 Gladly I would declare, in lofty strains, 
 The power of Godhead to the sons of men, 
 But thought is lost in its immensity, 
 Imagination wastes its strength in vain, 
 Ami Fancy tires, and turns within itself, 
 
iv LIVES OF THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 At school, Thomson, like so many men who have afterwards 
 risen to eminence, like Goldsmith, for example, in the following 
 generation, and like Scott in the last, proved himself a dullard. 
 He was constitutionally indolent, and loved better, we do not 
 doubt, to saunter along the pastoral banks of the " sylvan Jed," 
 than pore over the pages of his Caesar or his Sallust. In his 
 eighteenth year, he removed to Edinburgh to study for the minis- 
 try ; and at Edinburgh his old reputation still clove to him. "He 
 remained there," says Johnson, "without distinction or expecta- 
 tion." In the meantime his father died. This event made a great 
 change in Thomson's prospects. His mother was poor, and had a 
 large family to support. She removed to Edinburgh ; and her 
 son resolved to abandon his profession. 
 
 London, still the best, was then the only stage on which a 
 poet could appear with any hopes of success. It was the only 
 stage, as Johnson has remarked, at that time too wide for the 
 operation of petty competition and private malignity, the only 
 stage where merit might soon become conspicuous, and where it 
 would find friends as soon as it became reputable to befriend it. 
 To London, accordingly, Thomson, on the promise of some assist- 
 ance from an acquaintance of his mother's, a promise, however, 
 which seems never to have been redeemed, determined to repair. 
 In 1724 he left Edinburgh, with the poem of Winter and some 
 letters of introduction in his pocket. 
 
 One of those letters was addressed to Mallet, then tutor to the 
 sons of the Duke of Montrose. Mallet was a Scotchman, the son 
 of an innkeeper at Crieff, and probably the most successful, as he 
 was certainly the most unprincipled, literary adventurer of that 
 age. He praised and courted Pope while living, so long as praise 
 and courtship could advance his interests. He heaped abuse 
 upon Pope's memory when dead, when he found that such abuse 
 would gratify his patron. He earned an ignominious pension by 
 publishing, under the signature of " A Plain Man," a pamphlet 
 in which he imputed cowardice to Byng. He accepted a legacy 
 from the Duchess of Maryborough, and a pension from her grand- 
 son, on condition that he should write the life of the hero of Bleu- 
 
 Struck with the amazing depths of Deity: 
 Ah, my Lord God 1 in vain a tender youth, 
 
 Unskilled in arts of deep philosophy, 
 Attempts to search the bulky mass of matter, 
 
 To trace the rules of motion, and pursue 
 The phantom Time, too subtle for his grasp : 
 Yet may I from thy most apparent works. 
 
 Form some idea of their wondrous Author " 
 
heim and Malplacquet. On his death, in 1765, it was found thai 
 he had not completed a single page of the memoir. Johnson, 
 indeed, seems unintentionally to have pronounced the highest 
 eulogium on the Scotchmen then in London when he said that 
 Mallet was the only Scot whom his countrymen did not commend. 
 
 On the recommendation of this man, Thomson was received 
 into the family of Lord Binning as tutor to his sons. He had in 
 the meantime, however, disposed of the copyright of Winter for 
 three guineas ; and even this low price, we are told, the purchaser, 
 Mr. Miller, had for a time reason to regret. The generous kind- 
 ness of Aaron Hill and Mr. Whateley, "a man," says Johnson, 
 "not wholly unknown amongst authors," a man whose talents, 
 indeed, were such as to lead many of his contemporaries to im- 
 pute to him the authorship of those famous letters which drove 
 Gfrafton from the Treasury in an agony of shame and terror, and 
 carried dismay alike into the palace, the senate, and the courts 
 of law, at length opened the public eyes. The poem was in the 
 end completely successful, and raised the author to a rank amongst 
 living poets second only to that of Pope. 
 
 It is impossible for a literary man of our day to look back upon 
 the age which preceded the time of which we write without 
 feelings of deep shame and degradation. It was the age of 
 private patronage; an age in which readers were so few that 
 men of letters were too often obliged to become the parasites and 
 hangers-on of the rich ; an age in which Otway died in the agonies 
 of hunger, and in which Dryden was forced to prostitute his 
 genius to pander to the prurient appetite of a ribald king and a 
 ribald court. Until Pope arose, it is not too much to say that 
 no English writer however eminent, not Dryden, not Congreve, 
 not Addison, was able to earn, by his literary labours alone, a 
 sum equal to that which is now annually earned by a penny-a- 
 liner on the London press. The highest offices in Church and 
 State, bishoprics, deaneries, secretaryships, commissionerships, 
 embassies, were open to the lucky few. But to the many, to 
 ninety-nine out of every hundred of those who made literature 
 their profession, there only existed the alternative of abject penury 
 or abject dependence. 
 
 It was, therefore, only in accordance with the custom and 
 necessities of the age, that Thomson dedicated his poem to the 
 Earl of Wilmington, a man known in English history chiefly 
 from the part he took in opposition to Walpole on the accession 
 of George II. For a time he seemed to have sued in vain. But 
 the attention of Wilmington having at length been drawn to the 
 young aspirant by a copy of verses addressed to him by Aaron 
 
Vi LIVES OF THOMSON AXD GRAY. 
 
 Hill, the peer condescended to reward the poet for his adulation 
 with a present of .twenty guineas. 
 
 The fame of Thomson now rose high. "Every day," says 
 Johnson, "brought him new friends." To the Lord Chancellor 
 Talbot he was introduced by Dr. Rundle. The publication of 
 Summer secured him the favour of Bubb Dodington. His invec- 
 tives against the ministry introduced him to the society of the 
 wits and poets who crowded the saloons of Leicester House. The 
 Countess of Hertford invited him to Sudbourn ; Lord Lyttelton 
 entertained him at Hagley. He had reached the highest pinnacle 
 of fame when he was selected by the Chancellor as travelling 
 tutor to his eldest son. 
 
 He returned just in time to take pan in that great conflict 
 which drove Walpole from the Treasury to his retreat amid the 
 woods and gardens of Houghton. " The Opposition," says Mr. 
 Macaulay, ''was in every sense formidable." The elections of 
 1741 had been unfavourable to the Ministry. " The majority of 
 the landed gentry, the majority of the parochial clergy, one of the 
 universities, and a strong party in the City of London and in the 
 other great towns, were decidedly adverse to the Government. 
 Of the men of letters, some were exasperated by the neglect with 
 which the Minister treated them, a neglect which was the more 
 remarkable because his predecessors, both Whig and Tory, had 
 paid court with emulous munificence to the wits and the poets ; 
 others were honestly inflamed by party zeal ; almost all lent their 
 aid to the Opposition. In truth, all that was alluring to ardent 
 and imaginative minds was on that side ; old associations, new 
 visions of political improvement, high-flown theories of loyalty, 
 high-flown theories of liberty, the enthusiasm of the Cavalier, the 
 enthusiasm of the Roundhead. The Tory gentleman, fed in the 
 common-rooms of Oxford with the doctrines of Filmer and Sache- 
 verell, and proud of the exploits of his grandfathers, who had 
 charged with Rupert at Marston, who had held out the old 
 manor-house against Fairfax, and who had, after the King's re- 
 turn, been set down for a Knight of the Royal Oak, flew to that 
 section of the Opposition which, under pretence of assailing the 
 existing administration, was in truth assailing the reigning 
 dynasty. The young Republican, fresh from his Livy and his 
 Lucan, and glowing with admiration of Hampden, of Russell, 
 and of Sydney, hastened with equal eagerness to those benches 
 from which eloquent voices thundered nightly against the tyranny 
 and perfidy of Courts. .... In fact almost every young man of 
 warm temperament and lively imagination, whatever his political 
 bias might be, waa drawn into the party adverse to the Govern- 
 
ment; and some of the most distinguished among them, Pitt, 
 for example, among public men, and Johnson among men of 
 letters, afterwards openly acknowledged their mistake." 1 
 
 By the side of these men, in the foremost rank of the assailants, 
 observers did not fail to note the obese person and the dull and 
 inanimate countenance of Thomson. Thomson brought to the 
 contest a mind of singular endowments, but fitted neither by 
 nature nor by training for political discussion. He attacked the 
 old statesman, notwithstanding, with a vehemence hardly to be 
 expected from a man of habits so lethargic. But the publi- 
 cation of Liberty, although it did much for his fortunes, did little 
 for his fame. High as his own opinion of the poem was, it 
 had few readers in his own day and has almost ceased to be read 
 in ours. 
 
 The First Minister retired, the Cabinet was partially re- 
 modeled, and the nation soon discovered that its liberties were 
 not greater or more secure under the reign of the patriots than 
 they had been under the reign of Walpole. Thomson, in the 
 meantime, was reaping the profits of a place to which he had 
 been appointed by Lord Talbot. The death of Talbot, however, 
 soon obliged him to vacate it. The poet would not deign to 
 solicit his re-appointment, and the new Chancellor would not 
 re-appoint him without solicitation. Thomson was, therefore, 
 at the age of thirty-seven, once more thrown upon the world, a 
 writer for his bread. 
 
 He was, however, partially consoled for his loss by a pension 
 of a hundred pounds a-year bestowed upon him by the Prince of 
 Wales. But this partial consolation was more than compensated 
 by the fate which attended the representation of his Agamemnon. 
 Pope emerged from his retirement amid the groves of Twickenham 
 to countenance the performance. Thomson himself sat in the 
 upper gallery, trembling with anxiety and distress. " But the 
 tragedy," says Johnson, " had the fate which most commonly 
 attends mythological stories." It was tolerated for a few nights, 
 but is now as utterly forgotten as the most worthless of the por- 
 tentous productions of Behn or D'Urfey. 
 
 Edward and Eleonora, Alfred, and Tancred and Sigismunda, 
 now followed each other in quick succession. To Edward and 
 Eleonora a licence was refused. Alfred was written in conjunction 
 with Mallet, and failed. Tancred and Sigismunda alone was suc- 
 cessful. Yet, in spite of its success, Tancred, we are afraid, must 
 be content to take its place by the side of the Caractacus of 
 
 i Essays. Art " Horace Walpole." 
 
TJii LIVES OP THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 Mason and the Irene of Johnson. The genius of Mason and 
 Johnson was essentially undramatic ; and Thomson, when he set 
 about writing tragedy, failed as signally as Bentley did when he 
 sat down to annotate Milton. 
 
 In November 1744, the Carteret Administration was dissolved, 
 and Lyttelton accepted office under the Pelhams. A few months 
 later and the Gazette announced that Thomson had been ap- 
 pointed Surveyor- General of the Leeward Islands. The emolu- 
 ments of the post were considerable. After paying his deputy, 
 there remained to the new official an annual stipend of nearly 
 three hundred pounds. 
 
 Thomson was now at ease, and he seems to have made diligent 
 use of his leisure in preparing for the press a poem on which he 
 had long laboured, and which, with the sole exception of the 
 Seasons, is undoubtedly the greatest of all his works, the Castle 
 of Indolence. But his ease was of short continuance. He caught 
 cold upon the Thames while journeying to Kew. Fever super- 
 vened ; and on the 27th of August 1748, he died. He was buried 
 at Richmond ; but a monument in Westminster Abbey still re- 
 mains to commemorate the genius of the greatest descriptive poet 
 that modern ages have produced. 
 
 He left behind him the tragedy of Coriolanus. It added, how- 
 ever, nothing to his fame. It was brought upon the stage for 
 the benefit of his family with all the advantages it could derive 
 from the then unequalled acting of Quin. Lyttelton prefaced the 
 performance with a prologue of much elegance and feeling, which 
 will probably be remembered when all his other writings are 
 forgotten. The profits of the tragedy, after discharging the 
 poet's debts, were remitted to his sisters, to whom, from his 
 published correspondence, he seems to have been tenderly at- 
 tached. 
 
 Ninety years after Thomson's death, Mr. Peter Cunningham 
 reprinted for the Percy Society, a poem on the death of Congreve 
 inscribed to the Duchess of Marlborough. This poem Mr. Cun- 
 ningham ascribes to Thomson on evidence which we confess does 
 not quite satisfy us. Nevertheless, it has many of the charac- 
 teristics of his style his enthusiasm, his exaggeration, the 
 peculiar turn of his versification. We shall give an extract ; and 
 our extract shall be from that portion of the poem in which the 
 writer extols the virtues and the purity of Congreve Congreve, 
 whose virtues were selfishness and sensuality, and whose purity 
 was such that to match his heroes we must sweep the hells of the 
 Quadrant, and whose heroines could alone be mated amid the 
 purlieus of Covent Garden. 
 
THOMSON. IX 
 
 What art thou. Death, by mankind poorly feared, 
 
 Yet period of their ills ! On thy near shore 
 
 Trembling they stand, and see through dreaded misto 
 
 The eternal port, irresolute to leave 
 
 That various misery, those air-fed dreams 
 
 Which men call life and fame. Mistaken minds! 
 
 Tis reason's prime aspiring, greatly just ; 
 
 'Tis happiness supreme to venture forth 
 
 In quest of nobler worlds, to try the depths 
 
 Of dark futurity with heaven our guide, 
 
 The unerring hand that led us safe through time, 
 
 That planted in the soul this powerful hope, 
 
 This infinite ambition of new life, 
 
 And endless joys, still rising, ever new. 
 
 These Congreve tastes, safe on the etherial coast, 
 Joined to the numberless immortal quire 
 Of spirits blest. High-seated among these, 
 He sees the public fathers of mankind, 
 The greatly good, those universal minds, 
 Who drew the sword or planned the holy schema 
 For liberty and right, to check the reign 
 Of blood-stained tyranny and save a world. 
 
 l * * _ * * * 
 
 Hail, men immortal! Social virtues, hail I 
 First heirs of praise 1 But I, with weak essay, 
 Wrong the superior theme, while heavenly choirs, 
 In strains high-warbled to celestial harps, 
 Resound your names, arid Congreve's added voice 
 In heaven exalts what he admired below. 
 With these he mixes, now no more to swerve 
 From reason's purest law ; no more to please, 
 Borne by the torrent down a sensual age. 
 Pardon, loved shade, that I with friendly blame 
 Slight note thy errors, not to wrong thy worth 
 Or shade thy memory (far from my soul 
 Be that base aim !) but haply to deter, 
 From flattering the gross vulgar, future pens. 
 PoAverful like thine in every grace, and skilled 
 To win the listening soul with virtuous charms. 
 
 We cannot, we confess, transcribe these lines without picturing 
 to ourselves the cloud of indignation which would have darkened 
 the brow of Collier could he have read such a piece of impudent 
 adulation. 
 
 THOMAS GRAY was thirty-two years old when Thomson died. 
 Few poets ever attained to such an age with so few vicissitudes. 
 His father, a man of harsh and violent temper, was, like Mil- 
 ton's, a scrivener in London. He had married in early life a Miss 
 
 1 Here intervenes a panegyric, which we omit, on <; highborn Marlbro' " 
 and " Godolphin's patriot worth." 
 
X LIVES OF THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 A.ntrobus, the sister of one of the masters of Eton. Thomas was 
 their fifth son. He was born in Cornhill on the 26th of December, 
 1716. 
 
 A few years after his birth, Mrs. Gray separated from her 
 husband. Her allowance from him seems to have been small, as 
 it was to her exertions as a milliner that her son was indebted 
 for his education, first at Eton, and afterwards at Cambridge. 
 At Eton he became acquainted with Horace "VValpole and Richard 
 West. West was the son of the Irish Chancellor, and grandson 
 of Bishop Burnett. Like Gray, he was destined to the law, and 
 seems to have disliked the profession even more than his friend. 
 When Gray removed to Cambridge, West was already entered of 
 Christ's Church, Oxford. They corresponded closely, and some 
 of Gray's finest letters are those which he addressed to his 
 friend. 
 
 In 1734, Gray became a pensioner of Peterhouse. His resi- 
 dence extended over a period of four years, during which, we are 
 afraid, literature much more than divided his attention with the 
 law. About the year 1738, he set out in company with his 
 friend Walpole on a tour through France and Italy. 
 
 They had been absent for nearly a year, and, after visiting all 
 that was interesting in Florence, Rome, and Naples, had arrived 
 at Reggio, when they quarrelled. The wonder is that they had 
 not quarrelled long before. Gray was one of the most sensitive 
 of men : Walpole was not only frivolous, but malicious. He 
 delighted, like a schoolboy, in making mischief ; and we may be 
 sure that the man who could not spare his own kindred, would 
 have but little regard for the feelings of his ancient schoolfellow. 
 
 They parted, and Gray returned to Florence. From Florence 
 he set out, by way of Venice, for England, making only a slight 
 deviation from his route for the purpose of visiting the Grande 
 Chartreuse. His account of this visit is one of the finest pieces 
 of descriptive writing in the language. It is contained in two 
 letters, one addressed to his mother, the other to his friend 
 West. " It is a fortnight," he writes the former. " since we set 
 out hence upon a little excursion to Geneva. We took the longest 
 road, which lies through Savoy, on purpose to see a famous 
 monastery, called the Grande Chartreuse, and had no reason to 
 think our time lost. After having travelled seven days very 
 slow (for we did not change horses, it being impossible for a 
 chaise to go post in these roads), we arrived at a little village 
 among the mountains of Savoy, called Echelles ; from thence we 
 proceeded on horses, who are used to the way, to the mountain 
 of the Chartreuse. It is six miles to the top ; the road runs 
 
GRAY. XI 
 
 Binding up it, commonly not six feet broad ; on one hand is the 
 rock, with woods of pine-trees hanging overhead ; on the other a 
 monstrous precipice, almost perpendicular, at the bottom of 
 which rolls a torrent, that, sometimes tumbling among tne frag- 
 ments of stone that have fallen from on high, and sometimes pre- 
 cipitating itself down vast descents with a noise like thunder, 
 which is still made greater by the echo from the mountains on 
 each side, concurs to form one of the most solemn, the most 
 romantic, and the most astonishing scenes I ever beheld. Add 
 to this the strange views made by the crags and cliffs on the other 
 hand, the cascades that in many places throw themselves from 
 the very summit down into the vale and the river below, and 
 many other particulars impossible to describe, you will conclude 
 we had no occasion to repent our pains." 
 
 "I do not remember," he writes to West, "to have gone ten 
 paces without an exclamation that there was no restraining. 
 Not a precipice, not a torrent, not a cliff, but is pungent with 
 religion and poetry. There are certain scenes that would awe an 
 dfneist into belief, without the help of other argument. One 
 need not have a very fantastic imagination to see spirits there at 
 noonday. You have Death perpetually before your eyes, only so 
 far removed as to compose the mind without frightening it." 1 
 
 1 Gray's noble Alcaick Ode wa8 written on tho occasion of this visit 
 We give it a place here. 
 
 44 Tu, sever! Religio loci, 
 Quocunque gaudes nomine (non leve 
 Nativa nam certe fluenta 
 Numen habet, veteresque sylvas; 
 
 44 Praesentiorem et conspicimus Deum 
 Per iuvias rupes, fern per juga, 
 Clivosque prseruptos, sonantes 
 Inter aquas, nemorumque noctem; 
 
 " Quara si repostus sub trabe citrea 
 Fulgeret auro, et Phidiaca raanu) 
 Salve vocanti rite fesso et 
 Da placidam juveni quietem. 
 
 * Quod si invidendis sedibus, et frui 
 Fortuna sacra lege silentii 
 Vetat volentem, me resorbens 
 In medios violenta fluctus 
 
 " Saltern remoto des, Pater, angulo 
 Horas senectse ducere liberas; 
 Tutumque vulgari tumultu 
 Surripias, hominumque curis." 
 
Xii LIVES OF THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 Gray arrived in London on the 1st of September 1741. He 
 had not been in town two months when his father died. This 
 event determined Gray on relinquishing his profession. His 
 wants were few, and his means sufficient to supply them. In 
 1742, he fixed his residence at Cambridge. 
 
 In the same year his friend West died. In the interval be- 
 tween his return to England and his settlement at Cambridge, 
 Gray had been employed on his tragedy of Aggripina, and a 
 didactic poem in Latin, entitled De Principiis Cogitandi. The 
 shock which he experienced from the death of West seems to have 
 entirely deranged his plans. His tragedy was abandoned, and 
 the only addition he afterwards made to his didactic poem was 
 an apostrophe to his friend, than which nothing can more patheti- 
 cally display the feelings of a wounded heart. 
 
 Gray was now living in quiet seclusion at Cambridge. Here 
 he wrote his Ode to Eton College, which was published by 
 Dodsley in 1747. In 1750, his Elegy appeared, and in 1757, 
 his Pindaric Odes. Four years before, his mother had died at 
 Stoke. Gray seems to have felt her loss acutely. In an epi- 
 taph inscribed upon her tomb, he commemorates her as "the 
 careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had 
 the misfortune to survive her." 
 
 In 1765 he took a journey into Scotland, where he formed 
 an intimacy with Beattie. He thence penetrated into Wales 
 and the west of England, and seems to have been particularly 
 charmed with the scenery of Cumberland and Westmoreland. 
 His descriptions of the lake scenery have never been excelled 
 for beauty and finish. "Passed a reek 1 near Dummailrouse," 
 he says, " and entered Westmoreland a second time. Now 
 begin to see Helmscrag distinguished from its rugged neigh- 
 bours, not so much by its height, as by the strange broken 
 outline of its top, like some gigantic building demolished, and 
 the stones that composed it flung across each other in wild con- 
 fusion. Just beyond it opens one of the sweetest landscapes that 
 art ever attempted to imitate. The bosom of the mountains 
 spreading here into a broad basin, discovers in the midst Gras- 
 mere Water : its margin is hollowed into small bays, with bold 
 eminences, some of them rocks, some of soft turf, that half con- 
 ceal and vary the figure of the little lake they command. From 
 the shore a low promontory pushes itself far into the water, and 
 on it stands a white village, with the parish church rising in the 
 
 1 In the vernacular of the district a " reek" signifies what in Scotland 
 to called a " burn." 
 
GRAY. xiii 
 
 midst of it ; hanging enclosures, corn-fields, and meadows green 
 as an emerald, with their trees, hedges, and cattle, fill up the 
 whole space from the edge of the water. Just opposite you is a 
 large farm-house at the bottom of a steep smooth lawn, embosomed 
 in old woods, which climb half way up the mountain's side, and 
 discover above them a broken line of crags that crown the scene. 
 Not a single red tile, no glaring gentleman's house or garden 
 walls, break in upon the repose of this little unsuspected para- 
 dise ; but all is peace, rusticity, and happy poverty, in its neatest 
 and most becoming attire." 
 
 We make no apology for the length of this and our for- 
 mer quotations from Gray's published correspondence. For 
 ourselves, we own that we prefer his letters to those either 
 of Walpole or of Cowper. But the public generally, we are 
 afraid, are not of our opinion. Gray's letters, we doubt, are 
 but little read. Yet all of them are written with fine taste, 
 and, for the most part, in an admirable spirit. Even in the 
 earliest of them, such, for example, as those addressed to West, 
 we are struck with the justness of the writer's thoughts and 
 the classic beauty of his language. His entire correspondence 
 with Mason is pervaded in addition with a humour for which 
 those who are familiar only with his poetry will scarcely give him 
 credit. The fragments of description with which the letters from 
 Italy and the west of England abound want only the accompani- 
 ments of measure and metre to rank with the finest poetry in the 
 language. Gray's prose, in loftiness of sentiment and vividness 
 of expression, is at least equal to his verse. 
 
 In 1757, the death of Gibber created a vacancy in the office of 
 poet-laureate. The post of Chamberlain, in whose gift the laurel 
 lay, was then held by the Duke of Devonshire. The Duke would 
 willingly have bestowed it upon Gray ; but Gray had unconquer- 
 able scruples in accepting a post which profligacy and inability 
 had so shamefully disgraced. He continued, therefore, to reside 
 at Cambridge, busied with his poetry and his books. At length 
 an office fell vacant, which he was peculiarly qualified to fill. It 
 was the Cambridge Professorship of Modern Languages and His- 
 tory. He applied for it. But there had arisen in Egypt a king 
 which knew not Joseph. The administration of Bute had dis- 
 placed the administration of Pitt and Pelham. For the first 
 time in British history a Scotsman was seen at the head of 
 affairs. Bute, though no statesman, was a munificent patron of 
 literature and art; and it is probable that Gray would have ob- 
 tained the appointment had he possessed the marketable talents 
 of a Churchill or a Wilkes. But Gray was no polemic. He 
 
XIV LIVES OF THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 could not cringe for place, and he hated jobbing. Political 
 influence, therefore, obtained what was denied to merit. Sir 
 James Lowther could command more votes in the House of 
 Commons than any commoner of his time. These votes could 
 not but be valuable to the Government, and Sir James's tutor 
 was gazetted to the vacancy. Not many years elapsed before the 
 post again became vacant. Bute's nominee, Mr. Brockett, died 
 in 1768, and the Duke of Grafton, then Prime Minister, immedi- 
 ately and without solicitation, bestowed it upon Gray. The 
 favour did not pass unrewarded. Grafton was in 1769 elected 
 Chancellor of Cambridge, and Gray celebrated his installation in 
 strains which the world will not willingly let die, and which 
 must have been peculiarly soothing to the minister when he 
 had fallen upon evil days, and was writhing under that tre- 
 mendous invective which has immortalised alike its victims and 
 its author. 
 
 Cambridge had hitherto been Gray's residence from choice. It 
 now became so by obligation. The chair which he filled had been 
 a sinecure from its foundation ; but the new incumbent was too 
 conscientious a man to draw the emoluments, while he neglected 
 the duties of his post. The French and Italian teachers in the 
 University he rewarded liberally. The lectures on history he 
 undertook himself. But before his preparations for the course 
 were completed, he was attacked by a severe fit of the gout, to 
 which he had long been subject, and from which a life of singular 
 temperance could not protect him. He removed to London. His 
 lodgings were at first in Jermyn Street ; but from Jermyn 
 Street he was induced, for the benefit of purer air, to migrate to 
 Kensington. The virulence of the disease abated, and in the be- 
 ginning of July, he returned to Cambridge ; but on the 24th of 
 the same month, he was again attacked by his old disorder while 
 at dinner in the College hall. The disease had now fixed upon 
 his stomach, and resisted all the powers of medicine. On the 
 29th, he was seized with strong convulsions. They returned on 
 the 30th with redoubled strength, and in the evening of the 
 same da} T , in the year 1771, he breathed his last. He was in the 
 fifty-fifth year of his age. 
 
 They buried him at Stoke beside his mother, and almost within 
 sight of those "antique towers" which he has so lovingly com- 
 memorated. 
 
 The genius of the two eminent men whose lives we have 
 sketched was even more varied than their fortunes. The genius 
 of THOMSON we would compare to a mighty river, now rolling 
 

 CRITICAL REMARKS. XV 
 
 along in placid majesty between banks overhung with groves of 
 hazel, and bright with myriads of wild-flowers, now foaming an 
 impetuous torrent pent in by precipices " smoothed up with 
 snow," and now stealing away through unfrequented glooms, 
 muddy, tortuous, and unfruitful ; while the genius of GRAY re- 
 sembled a mountain torrent, now lost to view amid the whirling 
 mists, and now leaping forth in wild sublimity to gem the bosom 
 of the everlasting hills. 
 
 Of the two, Thomson was undoubtedly the greater. Among 
 descriptive poets he stands alone. Virgil, indeed, amongst the 
 ancients, and Cowper amongst the moderns, may be thought to 
 have approached him. But Virgil certainly could never have 
 conceived the glorious Hymn with which the Seasons close. 
 Cowper never could have depicted that solemn autumn evening 
 in which we see the creeping waters ooze, the marshes stagnate, 
 the rivers wind, and the fogs cluster and swim along the dusky 
 lawns. No episode, on the other hand, in the Seasons, can bt- 
 compared to the episode of Orpheus in the Greorgics. No passage 
 in the Seasons can be compared to those didactic passages in the 
 Task to which all other didactic poetry was, in the opinion of 
 Southey, as a formal garden to woodland scenery. The very 
 points in which lay the strength of Virgil and Cowper were those 
 in which lay Thomson's weakness. But we shall search the 
 Greorgics and the Task in vain for such poetry as that in which 
 Thomson has described the Alpine winter, the peasant perishing 
 in the snow, the Siberian exile, and the Arab pilgrim sinking 
 beneath the fiery blast that 
 
 " From the boundless furnace of the sky 
 Sweeps the wide glittering waste of burning sand." 
 
 ft was only by slow degrees that Thomson attained to such a 
 perfect mastery of his art. If we compare, for example, the 
 first edition of the Seasons with the second, and the second with 
 the third, we will see with what persevering assiduity he elabo- 
 rated his thoughts and refined his language. 
 
 This marked improvement in his style is seen more clearly 
 when we come to compare the Seasons with his last production, 
 the Castle of Indolence. For the materials of that exquisite 
 poem Thomson was indebted, as Mr. Campbell well says, to 
 the Faery Queen ; " and in meeting with the paternal spirit of 
 Spenser, he seems as if he were admitted more intimately to the 
 home of inspiration." Never before, indeed, had the genius of 
 Thomson burned with so serene a lustre ; for whether we have 
 regard to the style or diction of the poem, the Castle of Indo- 
 
XVI LIVES OF THOMSON AND GRAY. 
 
 lence is absolutely perfect. The first canto especially impresses 
 the mind, as Johnson has truly said, with a sense of lazy luxury 
 not to be described. The art of the poet could no farther go. 
 
 The finer portions of Thomson's poetry are characterized by 
 the same simplicity of design and beauty of form and colour which 
 we see in the natural landscape. The felicity of his touch, which 
 is really marvellous, is only equalled by its fidelity. No other 
 poet combined to an equal extent the glow of Claude and the 
 gloom of Salvator. The poorest portions of his poetry, on the 
 other hand, though better than the best pieces of many who rose 
 to eminence during the period which elapsed between the publi- 
 cation of the Traveller and the publication of the Task, are 
 those which treat of trivial and domestic life. In these Thom- 
 son's swelling and exuberant diction, which in his higher flights 
 is, as Campbell finely says, like " the flowing vesture of the 
 Druid," " ceases to seem the mantle of inspiration, and only 
 strikes us by its unwieldy difference from the common costume 
 of expression." It was not thus that Cowper dealt with the 
 familiar courtesies of life. No poet ever so entirely adapted his 
 verse to the nature of his subject, and no poet is consequently so 
 entirely the friend to whose companionship we flee after having 
 enjoyed to satiety the fellowship of his more brilliant and attrac 
 tive associates. 
 
 When we turn from Thomson to Gray we are struck at once 
 with the immensity of the barrier which separates their respec- 
 tive intellects. " As to description," writes the latter to Beattie, 
 " I have always thought that it made the most graceful orna- 
 ment of poetry, but never ought to make the subject." Hence 
 in the Castle of Indolence Gray could only bring himself to 
 acknowledge the existence of a few good verses. Somewhat 
 similar was the feeling with which he regarded Akenside. If 
 there was a poet of that age whom Gray was better qualified to 
 appreciate than any other, that poet was Akenside. He was 
 a scholar, and a ripe one; and his powers, though perhaps 
 better adapted, as a great critic has remarked, for grave and ele- 
 vated satire, were still calculated to raise high his fame amongst 
 the masters of the lyric art. His Hymn to the Naiads is a 
 masterpiece in its way. Few poets had ever before displayed so 
 much of the true Greek harmony and feeling. It was the firm and 
 often expressed conviction of Lloyd that no translation of Homer or 
 Callimachus could give a better idea of the ancient Ode than this 
 effort of Akenside. Yet of Akenside Gray could only coldly re- 
 mark that he was often obscure, and even unintelligible. 
 
 Still we must do Gray justice. The wild imagery and sha- 
 
CRITICAL REMARKS. Xvii 
 
 dowy magnificence of Ossian had no greater charm for the victor 
 of Lodi than they had for the secluded scholar of Cambridge. 
 He delighted in the wild superstitions of the North. He caught 
 successfully the fire of the ancient Bard, and transmitted it 
 to futurity in the Descent of Odin and the Fatal Sisters. He 
 loved the great masterpieces of Greek and Italian poetry with a 
 love which warmed his imagination and left an indelible impress 
 on all he wrote. More especially may this impress be traced 
 in the Progress of Poesy and the Bard. These pieces absolutely 
 glow with Pindaric fire. Their harmony, in spite of the compli- 
 cacy of their versification, is perfect. Their diction is brilliant 
 beyond all parallel. Their only fault is an occasional obscurity, 
 the result of an over-elaborate condensity of expression. 
 
 In the Ode to Eton College, the impress we have referred to is 
 much more slight ; and in the Elegy it almost wholly disappears. 
 Exquisitely harmonious as it is, the Elegy, we confess, scarcely 
 Beems to us to deserve the high encomiums bestowed on it by 
 Byron. Its popularity is principally the result of its connec- 
 tion with every-day life and every-day feelings. But poetry of 
 this class is not necessarily of the highest order. It may com- 
 mand more readers. It may be more generally relished than 
 those majestic creations which rear " sublime their starry fronts " 
 amid the poetic host. But we ought to remember with Young 
 that "a fixed star is as much in the bounds of nature as a flower 
 of the field." Gray's classical allusions and mythological lore 
 must always, indeed, be " caviare to the general." But not the 
 less, we think, will his fame ultimately rest on those noble Odes, 
 which few, we should suppose, can read without a feeling of 
 admiration akin to that with which the ancient Greek regarded 
 the lofty strains of Pindar and Corinna. 
 
POETICAL WORKS 
 
 JAMES THOMSON. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE SEASONS Page 
 
 Spring ... ... ... ... ... ... 1 
 
 Summer ... ... ... ... ... ... 39 
 
 Autumn ... ... ... ... ... ... 8& 
 
 Winter ... ... ... ... ... ... 121 
 
 Hymn ... ... ... ... ... ... 151 
 
 THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE 
 
 Canto I ... ... ... ... ... ... 157 
 
 Canto IT. ... ... ... ... ... ... 181 
 
 BRITANNIA ... ... ... ... ... . 205 
 
 LIBERT r 
 
 Part I. Ancient and Modem Italy compared ... ... 215 
 
 Part II. Greece ... ... ... ... ... 227 
 
 Part III. Eome ... ... ... ... ... 242 
 
 Part IV. Britain ... ... ... ... ... 259 
 
 PartV The Prospect ... ... ... ... 297 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 The Happy Man ... ... ... ... ... 319 
 
 On JEolus' Harp ... ... ... ... ... 320 
 
 Hymn on Solitude ... ... ... ... ... 320 
 
 Paraphrase of the latter part of the Sixth Chapter of St. Matthew ... 322 
 
 On the Death of his Mother ... ... ... ... 323 
 
 Epitaph on Miss Stanley ... ... ... ... 325 
 
 On the Death of Mr. Aikman ... ... ... ... 327 
 
 On the Report that a Wooden Bridge was to be built at Westminster 328 
 
 The Incomparable Soporific Doctor ... ... ... ... 329 
 
 To Seraphina ... ... ... ... ... ... 329 
 
 Verses addressed to Miranda ... ... ... ... 330 
 
 To the Same, with a Copy of "The Seasons" ... ... ... m 
 
XXil CONTENTS. 
 
 SONGS. 
 
 Pag 
 
 A Nuptial Song ... ... ... ... ... ... S32 
 
 To Amanda ... ... ... ... ... ... 333 
 
 To Fortune ... ... ... ... ... ... 333 
 
 Come, Gentle God ... ... ... ... ... 334 
 
 To Her I Love ... ... ... ... ... .. 334 
 
 To the God of Fond Desire ... ... ... ... 335 
 
 The Lover's Fate ... ... ... ... ... 335 
 
 To the Nightingale ... ... ... ... ... 336 
 
 ToMyra ... ... ... ... ... ... 337 
 
 Songs in the Masque of "Alfred" 
 
 To Peace ... ... ... ... ... ... 337 
 
 To Alfred ... ... ... ... ... ... 338 
 
 " Sweet Valley, Say" ... ... ... ... 338 
 
 44 From those Eternal Regions" ... ... ... 339 
 
 Contentment ... ... ... ... ... 339 
 
 Rule, Britannia I ... ... ... ... ... 340 
 
 OCCASIONAL PIECES. 
 
 Prologue to "Tancred and Sigismun da" ... ... ... 341 
 
 Epilogue to the Same ... ... ... ... ... 342 
 
 Epilogue to "Agamemnon" ... ... ... ... 343 
 
 Prologue to Mallet's "Mustapha" ... ... ... ... 344 
 
 To the Rev. Patrick Murdock ... .., ... ... 345 
 
 To H. R. H. The Prince of Wales ... ... ... ... 345 
 
 To the Memory of Lord Chancellor Talbot ... ... ... 346 
 
 To the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton ... ... ... ... 2*>S 
 
s r E i N G. 
 
 The subject proposed. Inscribed to the Countess of Hertford. The sea- 
 son is described as it affects the various parts of nature, ascending from 
 the lower to the higher; with digressions arising from the subject. Its 
 influence on inanimate Matter, on Vegetables, on brute Animals, and, 
 last, on Man ; concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular 
 passion of Love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind. 
 
 COME, gentle SPRING ! ethereal Mildness, come, 
 And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, 
 While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower 
 Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend. 
 
 HERTFORD ! fitted or to shine in courts 
 With unaffected grace, or walk the plain 
 With innocence and meditation join'd 
 In soft assemblage, listen to my song, 
 Which thy own season paints; when Nature all 
 Is blooming and bejpB^oJsfii^ like thee. 10 
 
 And see where surly WINTER passes off, 
 Far to the North, and calls his ruffian blasts: 
 His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, 
 The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale; 
 While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, 
 Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost, 
 The mountains lift their green heads to the sky. 
 
 As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd, 
 And WINTER oft at eve resumes the breeze, 
 Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets 20 
 
 Deform the day delightless; so that scarce 
 The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulft 
 
2 SPRING, 
 
 To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore 
 The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath, 
 And sing their wild notes to the listening waste. 
 
 At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun, 
 And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more 
 Th' expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold; 
 But, full of life and vivifying soul, 
 
 Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin, 30 
 Fleecy and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven. 
 
 Forth fly the tepid airs; and unconfined, 
 Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays. 
 Joyous, th' impatient husbandman perceives 
 Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers 
 Drives from their stalls, to where the well-used plough 
 Lies fn the furrow, loosen'd from the frost. 
 There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke 
 They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil, 
 Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark. 40 
 
 Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share 
 The master leans, removes th' obstructing clay, 
 Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe. 
 
 While through the neighb'ring fields the sower stalks 
 With measured step; and liberal throws the grain 
 Into the faithful bosom of the ground: 
 The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene. , 
 
 Be gracious, HEAVEN ! for now laborious Man 
 Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes ! blow; 
 Ye softening dews! ye tender showers! descend; 50 
 
 And temper all, thou world-reviving sun ! 
 Into the perfect year. Nor ye who live 
 In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride, 
 Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear: 
 Such themes as these the rural MA no sung 
 To wide-imperial ROME, in the full height 
 Of elegance and taste, by Greece refined. 
 ^ In ancient times, the sacred plough employ'd 
 The kings, and awful fathers of mankind: 
 And some, with whom compared jour insect-tribes GO 
 
SPRING. 3 
 
 Are but the beings of a summer's day, 
 
 Have held the scale of empire, ruled the storm 
 
 Of mighty war; then, with unwearied hand, 
 
 Disdaining little delicacies, seized 
 
 The plough, and greatly independent lived. , 
 
 Ye generous BRITONS, venerate the plough; 
 And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales, 
 Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun, 
 Luxuriant and unbounded: as the, sea, 
 Far through his azure turbulent domain, 70 
 
 Ymir einpjre owns, and, from a thousand shores, 
 Wafts all the pomp of life into your ports; 
 So with superior boon may your rich soil, 
 Exuberant, Nature's better blessings pour 
 O'er every land; the naked nations clothe; 
 And be tfr exhaustless granary of a world! 
 
 Norlmly through the lenient air, this change 
 Delicious breathes; the penetrative sun, 
 His force deep-darting to the dark retreat 
 Of vegetation, sets the steaming Power 80 
 
 At large, to wander o'er the vernant earth, 
 In various hues; but chiefly thee, gay Green! 
 Thou smiling Nature's universal robe ! 
 United light and shade ! where the sight dwells 
 With growing strength, and ever new delight. 
 
 From the moist meadow to the wither'd hill, 
 Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs, 
 And swells, and deepens, to the cherish'd eye. 
 The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves 
 Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, 90 
 
 Till the whole leafy forest stands display' d, 
 In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales; 
 Where the deer rustle through the twining brake, 
 And the birds sing conceal' d. At once, array'd 
 In all the colours of the flushing year, 
 By Nature's swift and secret-working hand, 
 The garden glows, and fills the liberal air 
 With lavish fragrance; while the promised fruit 
 
4 SPRING. 
 
 Lies yet a little embryo, unperceived, 
 
 Within its crimson folds. Now from the town, 100 
 
 Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, 
 
 Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, 
 
 Where freshness breathes; and dash the trembling drops 
 
 From the bent bush, as through the verdant maze 
 
 Of sweet-briar hedges I pursue my walk; 
 
 Or taste the smell of dairy, or ascend 
 
 Some eminence, Augusta, in thy plains, 
 
 And see the country, far diffused around, 
 
 One boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower 
 
 Of mingled blossoms; where the raptured eye 110 
 
 Hurries from joy to joy, and, hid beneath 
 
 The fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies; 
 
 If, brush'd from Russian wilds, a cutting gale 
 
 Rise not, and scatter from his humid wings 
 
 The clammy mildew; or, dry-blowing, breathe 
 
 Untimely frost; before whose baleful blast 
 
 The full-blown Spring through all her foliage shrinks, 
 
 Joyless and dead, a wide-dejected waste. 
 
 For oft, engender'd by the hazy North, 
 
 Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp 120 
 
 Keen in the poison'd breeze; and wasteful eat, 
 
 Through buds and bark, into the blacken'd core, 
 
 Their eager way. A feeble race ! yet oft 
 
 The sacred sons of vengeance; on whose course 
 
 Corrosive famine waits, and kills the year. 
 
 To check' this plague, the skilful farmer chaff 
 
 And blazing straw, before his orchard, burns; 
 
 Till, all involved in smoke, the latent foe 
 
 From every cranny suffocated falls; 
 
 Or scatters o'er the blooms the pungent dust 130 
 
 Of pepper, fatal to the frosty tribe; 
 
 Or, when th' envenom'd leaf begins to curl, 
 
 With sprinkled water drowns them in their nest; 
 
 Nor, while they pick them up with busy bill, 
 
 The little trooping birds unwisely scares. 
 
 Be patient, swains ! these cruel-seeming winds 
 
SPRING. 
 
 Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep repressed \ 
 
 Those deep'ning clouds on clouds, surcharged with rain, j 
 
 That o'er the vast Atlantic hither borne, / 
 
 In endless train, would quench the summer-blaze, .^40 
 
 And, cheerless, drown the crude unripen'd year. * * 
 
 The North-east spends his rage: he now shut up 
 
 Within his iron cave, th' effusive South 
 
 Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven 
 
 Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers distent. 
 
 At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise, 
 
 Scarce staining ether; but by swift degrees, 
 
 In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour sails 
 
 Along the loaded sky, and, mingling deep, 
 
 Sits on th' horizon round, a settled gloom: 150 
 
 Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed, 
 
 Oppressing life; but lovely, gentle, kind, 
 
 And full of every hope and every joy, 
 
 The wish of Nature. Gradual sinks the breeze 
 
 Into a perfect calm; that not a breath 
 
 Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, 
 
 Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves 
 
 Of aspen tall. The uncurling floods, diffused 
 
 In glassy breadth, seem through delusive lapse 
 
 Forgetful of their course. 'Tis silence all, 160 
 
 And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks 
 
 Drop the dry sprig, and mute-imploring eye 
 
 The .jCaIliEig_,erdure. Hush'd in short suspense, 
 
 The plumy peopla)streak their wings with oil, 
 
 To throw the lucid moisture trickling off; 
 
 And wait th' approaching sign, to strike at once 
 
 Into the general choir. Ev'n mountains, vales, 
 
 And forests seem, impatient, to demand 
 
 The promised sweetness. Man superior walks^ 
 
 Amid the glad creation, muSng^praSEe, ' " 170 
 
 AiidJk^efeJn^i^ last, 
 
 The -clouds consign their treasures to the fields; 
 
 And softly shaking on the dimpled pool 
 
 Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, 
 
6 SPRING. 
 
 In large effusion, o'er the freshened world. 
 
 The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard, 
 
 By such as wander through the forest walks, 
 
 Beneath th* umbrageous multitude of leaves. 
 
 But who can hold the shade, while Heaven descends 
 
 In universal bounty, shedding herbs, 180 
 
 And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap ! 
 
 Swift fancy fired anticipates their growth; 
 
 And while the milky nutriment distils, 
 
 Beholds the kindling country colour round. 
 
 Thus all day long the full-distended clouds 
 Indulge their genial stores, and well-shower'd earth 
 Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life; 
 Till, in the western sky, the downward sun 
 Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush 
 Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam. 190 
 
 The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes 
 Th' illumined mountain, through the forest streams, 
 Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist, 
 Far smoking o'er the interminable plain, 
 In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. 
 
 Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around; 
 Full swell the woods; their every music wakes, 
 Mix'd in wild concert, with the warbling brooks 
 Increased, the distant bl eatings of the hills, 
 And hollow lows responsive from the vales, 200 
 
 Whence blending all the sweeten'd zephyr springs. 
 Meantime, refracted from yon eastern cloud, 
 Bestriding earth, the grand ethereal bow 
 Shoots up immense; and every hue unfolds, 
 In fair proportion, running from the red, 
 To where the violet fades into the sky. 
 
 Here, awful Newton ! tjiejlissolving clouds 
 Form, fronting on the sun, thy showery prism; 
 And to the sage-instructed eye unfold 
 The various twine of light, by thee disclosed 210 
 
 From the white mingling nia/.r. Not so the boy; 
 Hi.- wondering views the bright enchantment bend, 
 
SPRING. 7 
 
 Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs 
 
 TcL.catch the falling glory; but amazed 
 
 Beholds th' amusive arch before him fly, 
 
 Then vanish quite away. Still night succeeds; 
 
 A soften'd shade, and saturated earth 
 
 Awaits the morning-beam, to give to light, 
 
 Raised through ten thousand different plastic tubes, 
 
 The balmy treasures of the former day. 220 
 
 Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild, 
 O'er all the deep-green earth, beyojad,thd power 
 Of botanist to number up their tribes: 
 Whether he steals along the lonely dale, 
 In silent search; or through the forest, rank 
 WitlLjdiajyihe dull incurious weeds account, 
 Bursts his blind way; or climbs the mountain rock, 
 Fired by the nodding verdure of its brow. 
 With such a liberal hand has Nature flung 
 Their seeds abroad, blown them about in winds, 230 
 
 Innumerous mix'd them with the nursing mould, 
 The moistening current, and prolific ram. 
 
 But who their virtues can declare 1 who pierce, 
 With vision pure, into these sacred stores 
 OThealthj and life, and joy? the food of Man, 
 While yet he lived in innocence, and told 
 A length of golden years; unflesh'd in blood, 
 A stranger to the savage arts of life, 
 Death, rapine, carnage, surfeit, and disease; 
 The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world. 240 
 
 "l T EeTirst fresh dawn then wakedlEfgTadcTen'd race 
 Of uncorrupted Man, nor blush'd to see 
 The sluggard sleep beneath its sacred beam: 
 For then: light slumbers gently fumed away; 
 And up they rose as vigorous as the sun, 
 Or to the culture of the willing glebe, 
 Or to the cheerful tendance of the flock. 
 Meantime the song went round; and dance and sport, 
 Wisdom and friendly talk, successive, stole 
 Their hours away; while, in the rosy vale, 250 
 
8 SPRING. 
 
 Love breathed his infant sighs, from anguish free, 
 And full replete with bliss; save the sweet pain, 
 That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more. 
 Nor yet injurious act, nor surly deed, 
 Was known among those happy sons of Heaven ; 
 andJienevQlencp. were law: 
 
 Harmonious Nature too look'd smiling on; 
 
 Clear slioiie the skies, cool'd with eternal gales, 
 
 And balmy spirit all: the youthful sun 
 
 Shot his best rays, and still the gracious clouds 260 
 
 Dropp'd fatness down; as o'er the swelling mead, 
 
 The herds and flocks, commixing, play'd secure. 
 
 This when, emergent from the gloomy wood, 
 
 The glaring lion saw, his horrid heart 
 
 Was inlJeTEeiTd, arid he join'd his sullen joy; 
 
 For music hell the whole in perfect peace: 
 
 Soft slgE'd the flute; the tender voice was heard, 
 
 Warbling the varied heart; the woodlands round 
 
 Applied their quire; and winds and waters flow'd 
 
 In consonance. Such were those prime of days. 270 
 
 But now those white unblemish'd manners, whence 
 Thejabling poets took their golden age, 
 Are faumTno muie amid tnjjeljon times, 
 These.dregS-.QjE ilife. Now the distemperd mind 
 Haslost that concord of harmonious powers^ 
 Which forms tLe soul of happiness., and all 
 Is off the poise within: the passions all 
 Have burst their bounds; ancTreason half extinct, 
 OrTmpotent, "or else approving, sees 
 
 The foul disorder. Senseless, and deform' d, 280 
 
 Convulsive angrr storms at large; or, pale 
 And silent, settles into fell revenge. 
 Base envy withers at another's joy, 
 And hates flfat exeeltente4fe~caimot reach. 
 Desponding fear, oOeeble fancies full, 
 Weak and unmanly, loosens every power. 
 
 Even lore itself is bitterness of soul, 
 A pensiveanguish pining at the heart; 
 
SPUING. 9 
 
 Or, sunkJte.jSffiDMaat^rest, feels no more 
 
 That noble wish, that never cloy'd desire, 290 
 
 Which, selfish joy disdaining, seeks alone 
 
 To bless the dearer object of its flame. 
 
 Hope sickens with extravagance; and grief, 
 
 Of life impatient, into madness swells, 
 
 Or in dead silence wastes the weeping hours. 
 
 These, and a thousand rnix'd emotions more, 
 
 From everjcEaligm^*vielirs^oTgood and ill, 
 
 Form'd infiSteyvano^r'v^^t.el^nJ* 
 
 With endless_stprm: whence, deeply rankling, grows 
 
 The partial thought, a listless unconcern, 300 
 
 Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good; 
 
 Then dark disgust, and hatred, winding wiles, 
 
 Coward deceit, and ruffian violence: 
 
 4t last, extinct each social feeling, fell 
 
 And jojtes innuiiiam^pervades 
 
 And petrifies the heart. Nature disturbed 
 
 Is deem'd, vindictive, to have changed her course. 
 
 Hence, in old dusky time, a deluge came; 
 When the deep-cleft disparting orb, that arch'd 
 The central waters round, impetuous rush'd, 310 
 
 With universal burst, into the gulf, 
 And o'er the high-piled hills of fractured earth 
 Wide dash'd the waves, in undulation vast; 
 Till, from the centre to the streaming clouds, 
 A shoreless ocean tumbled round the globe. 
 
 The seasons since have, with severer sway, 
 Opress'_d~a broken world: the Winter keen 
 Shook forth his waste of snows; and Summer shot 
 His pestilential heats. Great Spring, before, 
 Green' d all the year; and fruits and blossoms blush'd, 320 
 In social sweetness, on the self-same bough: 
 Pure was the temperate air; an even calm 
 Perpetual reign' d, save what the zephyrs bland 
 Breathed o'er the blue expanse; for then nor storms 
 Were taught to blow, nor hurricanes to rage; 
 Sound slept the waters; no sulphureous glooms 
 
10 SPRING. 
 
 Swell'd in the sky, and sent the lightning forth; 
 
 While sickly damps, and cold autumnal fogs, 
 
 Hung not, relaxing, on the springs of life. 
 
 But now, of turbid elements the sport, 330 
 
 From clear to cloudy tost, from hot to cold, 
 
 And dry to moist, with inward-eating change, 
 
 Our drooping days are dwindled down to nought, 
 
 Their period finished ere 'tis well begun. 
 
 And yet the wholesome herb neglected dies; 
 
 Though with the pure exhilarating soul 
 
 Of nutriment and health, and vital powers, 
 
 Beyond the search of art, 'tis copious blest. 
 
 For, with hot ravine fired, ensanguined Man 
 
 Is now become the lion of the plain, 340 
 
 And worse. The wolf, who from the mighty fold 
 
 Fierce drags the bleating prey, ne'er drank her milk, 
 
 Nor wore her warming fleece: nor has the steer, 
 
 At whose strong chest the deadly tiger hangs, 
 
 E'er plough'd for him. They too are temper'd high, 
 
 WitiLbunger stung and wild necessity; 
 
 '^Nor lodges pity in their shaggy breast. 
 But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay, 
 \Vith every kind emotion in his heart, 
 And taught alone to weep: while from her lap 350 
 
 She pours ten thousand delicacies, herbs, 
 And fruits, as numerous as the drops of rain, 
 Or beams that gave them birth: shall he, fair form ! . 
 Who wears sweet smiles, and looks erect on Heayen, 
 E'er stoop to mingle with the prowling herd, 
 A 1 ^ dip his tongue in gore ? The beast of prey, 
 Blood-stain'd, deserves to bleed: but you, ye flocks, 
 What have you done ? ye peaceful people, what, 
 To merit death ? you, who have given us milk 
 In luscious streams, and lent us your own coat 360 
 
 Against the winter's cold ? And the plain ox, 
 
 That harmless, honest, guileless animal, 
 In what has he offended ? he, whose toil, 
 Patient and ever ready, clothes the land 
 
SPRING.. 
 Up springs the lark . 
 Shrift -voiced and loud, the messenger of ! 
 
SPRING. 11 
 
 With all the pomp of harvest: shall he bleed, 
 
 And struggling groan beneath the cruel hands 
 
 Even of the clown he feeds ] and that, perhaps, 
 
 To swell the riot of th' autumnal feast, 
 
 Won by his labour 1 Thus the feeling heart 
 
 Would tenderly suggest: but 'tis enough, 370 
 
 In this late age, advent'rous, to have touch'd 
 
 Light on the numbers of the Samian sage. 
 
 High Heaven forbids the bold presumptuous strain, 
 
 Whose wisest will has fix'd us in a state 
 
 That must not yet to pure perfection rise. 
 
 NoWj ; when the first foul torrent of the brooks, 
 Swell'd with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away; 
 And, whitening, down their mossy-tinctured stream 
 Descends the billowy foam: now is the time, 
 While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, 380 
 
 To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly, 
 The rod fine-tapering with elastic spring, 
 Snatch' d from the hoary steed the floating lino, 
 And all thy slender wat'ry stores prepare. 
 But Jet not on thy hook the tortured worm, 
 Convulsive, twist in agonising folds; 
 Which, by rapacious hunger swallow'd deep, 
 Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breast 
 Of the weak, helpless, uncomplaining wretch, 
 Harsh pain and horror to the tender hand. 390 
 
 When with his lively ray the potent sun 
 Has pierced the streams, and roused the finny race, 
 Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair; 
 Chief should the western breezes curling play, 
 And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds. 
 High to their fount, this day, amid their hills, 
 And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks; 
 The next, pursue their rocky-channell'd maze, 
 Down to the river, in whose ample wave 
 Their little Naiads love to sport at large. 400 
 
 Just in the dubious point, where with the pool 
 Is mix'd the trembling stream, or where it boils 
 c 
 
12 SIRING. 
 
 Around the stone, or, from the hollow'd bank 
 
 Reverted, plays in undulating flow, 
 
 There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly; 
 
 And as you lead it round in artful curve, 
 
 With eye attentive mark the springing game. 
 
 Strait as above the surface of the flood 
 
 They wanton rise, or urged by hunger leap, 
 
 Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook: 410 
 
 Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, 
 
 And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, 
 
 With various hand proportion' d to their force. 
 
 If yet too young, and easily deceived, 
 
 A worthless prey scarce bends your pliant rod; 
 
 Him, piteous of his youth and the short space 
 
 He has enjoy'd the vital light of heaven, 
 
 Soft disengage, and back into the stream 
 
 The speckled captive throw. But should you lure 
 
 From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots 420 
 
 Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook, 
 
 Behoves you then to ply your finest art. 
 Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly; 
 And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft 
 The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. 
 At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun 
 Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death, 
 With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, 
 Deep struck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line; 
 Then seeks the furthest ooze, the sheltering weed, 430 
 The cavern'd bank, his old secure abode; 
 And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool, 
 Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand, 
 That feels him still, yet to lu's furious course 
 Gives way, you, now retiring, following now 
 Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage: 
 Till floating broad upon his breathless side, 
 And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore 
 You gaily drag your unresisting prize. 
 Thus pass the temperate hours; but when the sun 440 
 
SPRING. 13 
 
 Shakes from his noonday throne the scattering clouds, 
 
 Even shooting listless languor through the deeps; 
 
 Then seek the bank where flowering elders crowd, 
 
 Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale 
 
 Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hang 
 
 The dewy head, where purple violets lurk, 
 
 With all the lowly children of the shade; 
 
 Or lie reclined beneath yon spreading ash, 
 
 Hung o'er the steep; whence, borne in liquid wing, 
 
 The sounding culver shoots; or where the hawk, 450 
 
 High in the beetling cliff, his eyrie builds. 
 
 There let the classic page thy fancy lead 
 
 Through rural scenes; such as the Mantuan swain < 
 
 Paints in the matchless harmony of song. \ 
 
 Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift 
 
 Athwart imagination's vivid eye: 
 
 Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd, 
 
 And lost in lonely musing, in the dream, 
 
 Confused, of careless solitude, where mix 
 
 Ten thousand wandering images of things, 4GO 
 
 Soothe every gust of passion into peace; 
 
 All but the swellings of the soften'd heart, 
 
 That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. 
 
 Behold ! yon breathing prospect bids the muse 
 Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint 
 Like Nature 1 Can imagination boast, 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like hers 1 
 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
 And lose them in each other, as appears 
 In every bud that blows 1 If fancy then, 470 
 
 Unequal, fails beneath the pleasing task, 
 Ah ! what shall language do 1 ah ! where find words 
 Tinged with so many colours; and whose power, 
 To life approaching, may perfume my lays 
 With that fine oil, those aromatic gales, 
 That inexhaustive flow continual round 1 ? 
 
 Yet, though successless, will the toil delight. 
 Come then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose hearts 
 
14 SPRING. 
 
 Have felt the raptures of refining love ! 
 
 And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song ! 480 
 
 Form'd by the Graces, loveliness itself! 
 
 Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, 
 
 Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul, 
 
 Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd, 
 
 Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart: 
 
 Oh come ! and while the rosy-footed May 
 
 Steals blushing on, together let us tread 
 
 The morning-dews, and gather in their prime 
 
 Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair, 
 
 And thy loved bosom that improves their sweets. 490 
 
 See, where the winding vale its lavish stores, 
 Irriguous, spreads. See, how the lily drinks 
 The latent rill, scarce oozing through the grass, 
 Of growth luxuriant; or the humid bank 
 In fair profusion decks. Long let us walk 
 Where the breeze blows from yon extended field 
 Of blossom'd beans. Arabia cannot boast 
 A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence 
 Breathes through the sense, and takes the ravish'd soul. 
 Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot, 500 
 
 Full of fresh verdure, and unnumber'd flowers, 
 The negligence of Nature, wjde_aiidjvild; 
 Where, undisguised by mimic Art, she spreads 
 Unbounded beauty to the roving eye. 
 Here their delicious task the fervent bees, 
 In swarming millions, tend: around, athwart, 
 Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, 
 Cling to the bud, and, with inserted tube, 
 Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul; 
 And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare 510 
 
 The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, 
 And yellow load them with the luscious spoil. 
 
 At length the finish'd garden to the view 
 Its vistas opens, and its alleys green. 
 Snatch'd through the verdant maze, the hurried eye 
 Distracted wanders; now the bowery walk 
 
SPUING. 15 
 
 Of covert close, where scarce a speck of day 
 
 Falls on the lengthen' d gloom, protracted sweeps; 
 
 Now meets the bending sky; the river now 
 
 Dimpling along, the breezy-ruffled lake, 520 
 
 The forest darkening round, the glittering spire, 
 
 Th' ethereal mountain, and the distant main. 
 
 But why so far excursive ? when at hand, 
 Along these blushing borders, bright with dew, 
 And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, 
 FafrjhaiidfidJ^inj* unbosoms every grace; 
 Throws out the snow-drop and the crocus first; 
 The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, 
 And polyanthus of unnumber'd dies; 
 The yellow wall-flower, stain'd with iron brown; 530 
 
 And lavish stock that scents the garden round; 
 From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed, 
 Anemonies; auriculas, enrich'd 
 With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves; 
 And full ranunculas, of glowing red. 
 Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays 
 Her idle freaks; from family diffused 
 To family, as flies the father-dust, 
 The varied colours run; and while they break 
 On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist marks, 540 
 
 With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. 
 No gradual bloom is wanting; from the bud, 
 First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes: 
 Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, 
 Low-bent, and blushing inward; nor jonquils, 
 Of potent fragrance; nor Narcissus fair, 
 As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still; 
 Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks; 
 Nor, shower' d from every bush, the damask-rose; 
 Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, 550 
 
 With hues on hues expression cannot paint, 
 The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom. 
 
 Hail, Source of Being! Uniyjirjalgoii^ 
 Of heaveifand earth ! Es 
 
16 SPRING. 
 
 To Thee I bend the knee; to Thee my thoughts, 
 
 Continual, climb; who, with a master-hand, 
 
 Hast the .great whole into perfection tQiipfr'fl. 
 
 By Thee the various vcp-tative tribes, 
 
 Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves, 
 
 Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew. 5 GO 
 
 By Thee disposed into congenial soils, 
 
 Stands each attractive plant, and sucks, and swells 
 
 The juicy tide; a twining mass of tubes. 
 
 At Thy command the vernal sun awakes 
 
 The torpid sap, detruded to the root 
 
 By wintry winds; that now in fluent dance, 
 
 And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads 
 
 All this innumerous-colour'd scene of things. 
 
 As rising from the vegetable world 
 
 My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend, 570 
 
 My panting muse ! and hark, how loud the woods 
 Invite you forth in all your gayest trim ! 
 Lend me your song, ye nightingales ! oh pour 
 The mazy-running soul of melody 
 Into my varied verse ! while I deduce, 
 From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, 
 The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme 
 Unknown to fame, the passion of the groves. 
 
 When first the soul of love is sent abroad, 
 Warm through the vital air, and on the heart 580 
 
 Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin, 
 In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing; 
 And try again the long-forgotten strain, 
 At first faint warbled. But no sooner grows 
 The soft infusion prevalent, and wide, 
 Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows 
 In music unconfined. Up-springs the lark, 
 Shrill-voiced and loud, the messenger of morn: 
 Ere yet the shadows fly, lie mounted sings 
 Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 590 
 
 Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse 
 Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush 
 
While jet the dark browii 
 To tempt the trout. 
 
SPRING. 17 
 
 Bending with dewy moisture o'er the heads 
 
 Of the coy quiristers that lodge within, 
 
 Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush 
 
 And wood-lark, o'er the kind-contending throng 
 
 Superior heard, run through the sweetest length 
 
 Of notes; when listening Philomela deigns 
 
 To let them joy, and purposes, in thought 
 
 Elate, to make her night excel their day. 600 
 
 The blackbird whistles from the thorny brake; 
 
 The mellow bullfinch answers from the grove; 
 
 Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze 
 
 Pour'd out profusely, silent. Join'd to these, 
 
 Innumerous songsters, in the freshening shade 
 
 Of new-sprung leaves, their modulation mix 
 
 Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw, 
 
 And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone, 
 
 Aid the full concert: while the stock-dove breathes 
 
 A melancholy murmur through the whole. 610 
 
 'Tis love creates their melody, and all 
 This waste of music is the voice of love; 
 That even to birds, and beasts, the tender arts 
 Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind 
 Try every winning way inventive love 
 Can dictate, and in courtship to then: mates 
 Pour forth their little souls. First, wide around, 
 With distant awe, in airy rings they rove, 
 Endeavouring by a thousand tricks to catch 
 The cunning, conscious, half-averted glance 620 
 
 Of their regardless charmer. Should she seem, 
 Softening, the least approvance to bestow, 
 Their colours burnish, and, by hope inspired, 
 They brisk advance; then, on a sudden struck, 
 Retire disorder'd; then again approach; 
 In fond rotation spread the spotted wing, 
 And shiver every feather with desire. 
 
 Connubial leagues agreed, to the deep woods 
 They haste away, all as their fancy leads, 
 Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts; 630 
 
18 SPRING. 
 
 That Nature's great command may be obey'd, 
 
 Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive 
 
 Indulged in vain. Some to the holly-hedge 
 
 Nestling repair, and to the thicket some; 
 
 Some to the rude protection of the thorn 
 
 Commit their feeble offspring : the cleft tree 
 
 Offers its kind concealment to a few; 
 
 Their food its insects, and its moss their nests. 
 
 Others apart, far in the grassy dale 
 
 Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave. 640 
 
 But most in woodland solitudes delight, 
 
 In unfrequented glooms, or shaggy banks, 
 
 Steep, and divided by a babbling brook, 
 
 Whose murmurs soothe them all the livelong day, 
 
 When by kind duty fix'd. Among the roots 
 
 Of hazel, pendant o'er the plaintive stream, 
 
 They frame the first foundation of their domes; 
 
 Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid, 
 
 And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought 
 
 But restless huriy through the busy air, 650 
 
 Beat by unnumber'd wings. The swallow sweeps 
 
 The slimy pool, to build his hanging house 
 Intent. And often, from the careless back 
 Of herds and flocks, a thousand tugging bills 
 Pluck hair and wool; and oft, when unobserved, 
 Steal from the barn a stiaw: till soft and warm, 
 Clean and complete, their habitation grows. 
 
 As thus the patient dam assiduous sits, 
 Not to be tempted from her tender task, 
 Or by sharp hunger, or by smooth delight, 660 
 
 Though the whole loosen'd Spring around her blows, 
 Her sympathising lover takes his stand 
 High on th' opponent bank, and ceaseless sings 
 The tedious time away; or else supplies 
 Her place a moment, while she sudden flits 
 To pick the scanty meal. Th' appointed time 
 With pious toil fulfill'd, the callow young, 
 Warm'd and expanded into perfect life, 
 
SPRING. 19 
 
 Their brittle bondage break, and come to light, 
 
 A helpless family, demanding food 670 
 
 With constant clamour: Oh what passions then, 
 
 What mjiltin^se^ 
 
 On the new parenFs seize ! away they fly 
 
 Affectionate, and undesiring bear 
 
 The most delicious morsel to their young; 
 
 Which equally distributed, again 
 
 The search begins. Even so a gentle pair, 
 
 By fortune sunk, but form'd of generous mould, 
 
 And charm' d with cares beyond the vulgar breast, 
 
 In some lone cot amid the distant woods, 680 
 
 Sustained alone by providential Heaven, 
 
 Oft as they weeping eye their infant train, 
 
 Check their own appetites, and give them all. 
 
 Nor toil alone they scorn: exaltingjove, 
 By the great Father of the Spring inspired, 
 Gives instant courage to the fearful race, 
 And to the simple, art. With stealthy wing, 
 Should some rude foot their woody haunts molest, 
 Amid a neighbouring bush they silent drop, 
 And whirring thence, as if alarm'd, deceive 690 
 
 Th' unfeeling schoolboy. Hence, around the head 
 Of wandering swain, the white-wing'd plover wheels 
 Her sounding flight, and then directly on 
 
 In long excursion skims the level lawn, 
 
 To tempt him from her nest. The wild-duck, hence, 
 
 O'er the rough moss, and o'er the trackless wasto 
 
 The heath-hen flutters, pious fraud ! to lead 
 
 The hot-pursuing spaniel far astray. 
 
 Be^npt the Muse ashamed, here to bemoan 
 
 Her brothers of the grove, by tyrant Mair 700 
 
 Inhuman caught, and in the narrow cage 
 
 From liberty confined, and boundless air. 
 
 DiiTTare the pretty slaves, their plumage dull, 
 
 Ragged, and all its brightening lustre lost; 
 
 Sor is that sprightly wildness in their notes, 
 
 Which, clear and vigorous, warbles from the beech. 
 
20 SPRING. 
 
 Oh then, yejriends of love and love-taught song, 
 
 Spare the soft tribes, this barbarous art forbear; 
 
 If on your bosoms innocence can win, 
 
 Music engage, or piety persuade. 710 
 
 But let not chief the nightingale lament 
 Her ruin'd care, too delicately framed 
 To brook the harsh confinement of the cage. 
 Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, 
 Th' astonish' d mother finds a vacant nest, 
 By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns 
 Robb'd, to the gromRfther-vaafir pi irv rsiuu falls; 
 Her pinions rufHe, and, low-drooping, scarce 
 Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade; 
 Where, all-abandon'd to despair, she sings 720 
 
 Her sorrows through the night; and, on the bough, 
 Sole-sitting, still at every dying fall 
 Takes up again her lamentable strain 
 Of winding wo; till, wide around, the woods 
 Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound. 
 
 But now the feather'd youth then: former bounds, 
 Ardent, disdain; and weighing oft their wings, 
 Demand the free possession of the sky: 
 This one glad office more, and then dissolves 
 Parental love at once, now needless grown. 730 
 
 Unlavish Wisdom never works in vain. 
 'Tis on some evening, sunny, grateful, mild, 
 When nought but balm is breathing through the woods, 
 With yellow lustre bright, that the new tribes 
 Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad 
 On Nature's common, far as they can see, 
 Or wing, their range and pasture. O'er the boughs 
 Dancing about, still at the giddy verge 
 Their resolution fails; their pinions still, 
 In loose libration stretch'd, to trust the void 740 
 
 Trembling refuse; till down before them fly 
 The parent-guides, and chide, exhort, command, 
 Or push them off. The surging air receives 
 Its plumy burden; and their self-taught wing 
 
SPRING. 
 
 21 
 
 Winnow the waving clement. On ground 
 
 Alighted, bolder up again they lead, 
 
 Farther and farther on, the lengthening flight; 
 
 Till vanish' d every fear, and every power 
 
 Roused into life and action, light in air 
 
 Th' acquitted parents see their soaring race, 750 
 
 And, once rejoicing, never know them more. 
 
 High from the summit of a craggy cliff, 
 Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frowns 
 On utmost Kilda's shore, whose lonely race 
 Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds, 
 The royal eagle draws his vigorous young, 
 Strong-pounced, and ardent with paternal fire; 
 Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own, 
 He drives them from his fort, the towering seat, 
 For ages, of his empire; which, in peace, 760 
 
 Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to sea 
 He wings his course, and preys in distant isles. 
 
 Should I my steps turn to the rural seat, 
 Whose lofty elms, and venerable oaks, 
 Invite the rook, who high amid the boughs, 
 In early Spring, his airy city builds, 
 And ceaseless caws amusive; there, well-pleased, 
 I might the various polity survey 
 Of the mix'd household kind. The careful hen 
 Calls all her chirping family around, 770 
 
 Fed and defended by the fearless cock; 
 Whose breast with ardour flames, as on he walks 
 Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond, 
 The finely chequer' d duck before her train 
 Rows garrulous. The stately sailing swan 
 Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale; 
 Arid, arching proud his neck, with oary feet 
 Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier-isle, 
 Protective of his young. The turkey nigh, 
 Loud-threatening, reddens; while the peacock spreads 78) 
 His e very-colour' d glory to the sun, 
 And swims in radiant majesty along. 
 
22 
 
 O'er the whole homely scene, the cooing dove 
 Flies thick in amorous chase, and wanton rolls 
 The glancing eye, and turns the changeful neck. 
 
 While thus the gentle tenants of the shade 
 Indulge their purer loves, thejrpugher world 
 Of brutes, below, rush furious into flame 
 And fierce desire. Through all his lusty veins 
 The bull, deep-scorch'd, the raging passion feels. 790 
 
 Of pasture sick, and negligent of food, 
 Scarce seen, he wades among the yellow broom, 
 While o'er his ample sides the rambling sprays 
 Luxuriant shoot; or through the mazy wood 
 Dejected wanders, nor th' enticing bud 
 Crops, though it presses on his careless sense: 
 And oft, in jealous madd'ning fancy wrapt, 
 He seeks the fight; and, idly-butting, feigns 
 His rival gored in every knotty trunk. 
 Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins; 800 
 
 Their eyes flash fury; to the hollow'd earth, 
 Whence the sand flies, they mutter bloody deeds, 
 And, groaning deep, th' impetuous battle mix: 
 While the fair heifer, balmy-breathing, near, 
 Stands kindling up their rage. The trembling steed, 
 With this hot impulse seized in every nerve, 
 Nor heeds the reign, nor hears the sounding thong; 
 Blows are not felt; but tossing high his head, 
 And by the well-known joy to distant plains 
 Attracted strong, all wild he bursts away; 810 
 
 O'er rocks, and woods, and craggy mountains flies; 
 And, neighing, on the aerial summit takes 
 Th' exciting gale; then, steep-descending, cleaves 
 The headlong torrents foaming down the hills, 
 Even where the madness of the straiten'd stream 
 Turns in black eddies round; such is the force 
 With which his frantic heart and sinews swell. 
 
 Nor undelighted by the boundless Spring 
 Are the broad monsters of the foaming deep: 
 From the deep ooze and gelid cavern roused, 820 
 
SPRING. 23 
 
 They flounce and tumble in unwieldy joy. 
 
 Dire were the strain, and dissonant, to sing 
 
 The cruel raptures of the savage kind: 
 
 How by this flame their native wrath sublimed, 
 
 They roam, amid the fury of their heart, 
 
 The far-resounding waste in fiercer bands, 
 
 And growl their horrid loves. But this the theme 
 
 I sing, enraptured, to the British Fair, 
 
 Forbids, and leads me to the mountain-brow, 
 
 Where sits the shejpliei4~iijji^ 830 
 
 Inhaling, healthful, the descending sun. 
 
 Around him feeds his many-bleating flock, 
 
 Of various cadence; and his sportive lambs, 
 
 This way and that convolved, in friskful glee, 
 
 Their frolics play. And now the sprightly race 
 
 Invites them forth; when swift, the signal given, 
 
 They start away, and sweep the massy mound 
 
 That runs around the hill; the rampart once 
 
 Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times., 
 
 "When, disunited Britain ever bled, 840 
 
 Lost in eternal broil: ere yet she grew 
 
 To this deep-laid indissoluble state, 
 
 Where Wealth and Commerce lift their golden headsj 
 
 And o'er our labours, Liberty and Law, 
 
 Impartial, watch; the wonder of a world) 
 
 What is this mighty Breath, ye sages! say, 
 That, in a powerful language, felt, not heard, 
 Instructs the fowls of Heaven; and through their breast 
 These arts of love diffuses ? What, but God ] 
 Inspiring God ! who, boundless Spirit all, 850 
 
 And unremitting Energy, pervades, 
 Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. 
 He ceaseless works alone; and yet alone 
 Seems not to work: with such perfection framed 
 Is this complex stupendous scheme of things. / 
 
 But, though conceal' d, to every purer eye 
 Th' informing Author in his works appears: 
 Chief, lovely Spring ! in thee, and thy soft scenes, 
 
S4 SPRING. 
 
 The Smiling God is seen; while water, earth, 
 
 And air attest his bounty; which exalts 8GO 
 
 The brute-creation to this finer thought, 
 
 And annual melts their undesigning hearts 
 
 Profusely thus in tenderness and joy. 
 Still let my song a nobler note assume, 
 
 And sing th' infusive force of Spring on Man; 
 
 AVhcn heaven and earth, as if contending, vie 
 
 To raise his being, and serene his soul. 
 
 Can he forbear to join the general smile 
 
 OLNature ? Can fierce passions vex his breast, 
 
 "\Vhile every gale is peace, and every grove 870 
 
 Is melody? Ilence! from the bounteous walks 
 
 Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of earth, 
 
 Hard, and unfeeling of another's wo; 
 
 Or only lavish to yourselves; away! 
 
 But come, ye generous minds_! in whose wide tliought 
 
 Of all^ his^ works^^^TyeTSountv-Jburaa 
 
 "\Yith warmest beam; and on your open front 
 
 And liberal eye, sits, from his dark retreat 
 
 Inviting modest Want. Nor, till invoked, 
 [Can restless goodness wait; your active search 880 
 
 \ Leaves no cold wintry corner unexplored; 
 
 Like silent-working Heaven, surprising oft 
 UChe lonely heart with unexpected good. 
 For you, the roving spirit of the wind 
 Blows Spring abroad; for you, the teeming clouds 
 Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world; 
 And the sun sheds his kindest rays for you, 
 Ye flower of human race ! in these green days, 
 Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head; 
 Life flows afresh; and young-eyed Health exalts 890 
 
 The whole creation round. Contentment walks 
 The sunny glade, and feels an inward Mi-s 
 Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of kings 
 To purchase. Pure serenity apace 
 Induces thought, and contemplation still. 
 By swift degrees the love of Nature works, . 
 
SPRING. 25 
 
 Andjvvarms the bosom; till at last sublimed 
 
 Tp^ rapture, and enthusiastic heat, 
 
 We feel the present Deity, and taste 
 
 The joy of God to see a happy world ! 900 
 
 These are the sacred feelings of thy heart, 
 Thy heart inform'd by reason's purer ray, 
 L^ttelton^the friend ! thy passions thus 
 And meditation vary, as at large, 
 Courting the muse, through Hagley Park thou stray'st; 
 Thy British Tempe ! There along the dale, 
 With woods o'erhung, and shagg'd with mossy rocks, 
 Whence on each hand the gushing waters play, 
 And down the rough cascade white-dashing fall, 
 Or gleam in lengthen'd vista through the trees, 910 
 
 You silent steal; or sit beneath the shade 
 Of solemn oaks, that tuft the swelling mounts 
 Thrown graceful round by Nature's careless hand, 
 And pensive listen to the various voice 
 Of rural peace: the herds, the flocks, the birds, 
 The hollow-whispering breeze, the plaint of rills, 
 That, purling down amid the twisted roots 
 Which creep around, their dewy murmurs shake 
 On the soothed ear. From these abstracted, oft 
 You wander through the philosophic world; 920 
 
 Where, in bright tram, continual wonders rise, 
 Or to the curious or the pious eye. 
 And oft, conducted by historic truth, 
 You tread the long extent of backward time; 
 Planning, with warm benevolence of mind, 
 And-honest zeal unwarp'd by party-rage, 
 Britannia's weal; how from the venal gulf 
 To raise her virtue, and her arts revive. 
 Or, turning thence thy view, these graver thoughts 
 The Muses charm: while, with sure taste refined, 933 
 
 You draw th' inspiring breath of ancient song; 
 Till nobly rises, emulous, thy own. 
 
 Perhaps thy loved Lucinda shares thy walk, 
 With soul to thine attuned. Then Nature all 
 
26 SPRINO. 
 
 Wears to the lover's eye a look of love; 
 
 And ajl theJumuU^ota guilty world 
 
 Tost by^ungenerous passior^sinks away. 
 
 The tender heart is animated peace; 
 
 And as it pours its copious treasures forth, 
 
 In varied converse, softening every theme, 940 
 
 You, frequent-pausing, turn, and from her eyes, 
 
 Where meeken'd sense, and amiable grace, 
 
 And lively sweetness dwell, enraptured, drink 
 
 That nameless spirit of ethereal joy, 
 
 Unutterable happiness! which love, 
 
 Alone, bestows, and on a favour'd few. 
 
 Meantime you gain the height, from whose fair brow 
 
 The bursting prospect spreads immense around, 
 
 And snatch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn, 
 
 And verdant field, and dark'ning heath between, 950 
 
 And villages embosom'd soft in trees, 
 
 And spiry towns by surging columns mark'd 
 
 Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams: 
 
 Wide-stretching from the Hall, in whose kind haunt 
 
 The hospitable Genius lingers still, 
 
 To where the broken landscape, by degrees, 
 
 Ascending, roughens into rigid hills; 
 
 O'er which the Cambrian mountains, like far clouds 
 
 That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise. 
 
 Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year, 9GO 
 
 Now from the virgin's cheek a fresher bloom 
 Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round; 
 Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth; 
 The shining moisture swells into her eyes, 
 In brighter flow; her wishing bosom heaves, 
 With palpitations wild; kind tumults seize 
 Her veins, and all her yielding soul is love. 
 From the keen gaze her lover turns away, 
 Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick 
 With sighing languishment. Ah then, ye lair! 970 
 
 Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts: 
 Dare not th' infectious sigh; the pleading look, 
 
SPRING. 27 
 
 Downcast, and low, in meek submission drest, 
 But full of guile. Let not the fervent tongue, 
 Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, 
 Gain on your purposed will. Nor in the bower, 
 Where woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch, 
 While evening draws her crimson curtains round, 
 Trust your soft minutes with betraying Man. 
 
 And let th' aspiring youth beware of love, 
 Of the smooth glance beware; for 'tis too late, 
 When on his heart the torrent-softness pours; 
 Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame 
 Dissolves in air away; while the fond soul, 
 Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss, 
 Still paints th' illusive form; the kindling grace; 
 Th' enticing smile; the modest-seeming eye, 
 Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying heaven, 
 Lurk searchless cunning, cruelty, and death: 
 And still, false-warbling in his cheated ear, 990 
 
 Her syren voice, enchanting, draws him on 
 To guileful shores, and meads of fatal joy. 
 
 Even present, in the very lap of love 
 Inglorious laid; while music flows around, 
 Perfumes, and oils, and wine, and wanton hours; 
 Amid .the roses fierce. Repentance rears 
 Her snaky crest:, a quick-returning pang 
 Shoots through the conscious heart; where honour still, 
 And great design, against th' oppressive load 
 Of luxury, by fits, impatient heave. 1000 
 
 But absent, what fantastic woes, aroused, 
 Kage in each thought, by restless musing fed, 
 Chill the warm cheek, and blast the bloom of life ! 
 Neglected fortune flies; and sliding swift, 
 Prone into ruin, fall his scorn'd affairs. 
 'Tis nought but gloom around: the darken'd sun 
 Loses his light: the rosy-bosom'd Spring 
 To weeping fancy pines; and yon bright arch. 
 Contracted, bends into a dusky vault. 
 All Nature fades extinct; and she alone 1010 
 
 D 
 
28 SPIIIXQ. 
 
 Heard, felt, and seen, possesses every thought, 
 Fills every sense, and pants in every vein. 
 
 Books are but formal dulness, tedious friends; 
 And sad amid the social band lie sits, 
 Lonely, and unattentive. From his tongue 
 Th' unnnish'd period falls: while borne away 
 On swelling thought, his wafted spirit flies 
 To the vain bosom of his distant fair; 
 And leaves the semblance of a lover, fix'd 
 In melancholy site, with head declined 1020 
 
 And love-dejected eyes. Sudden he starts, 
 Shook from his tender trance, and restless runs 
 To glimmeriag_shades, and sympathetic glooms, 
 Where the dun umbrage oYr the falling IsEream,^ 
 (Romantic, hangs; there through the pensive dusk 
 Strays, in heart-thrilling meditation lost, 
 Indulging all to love: or on the bank 
 ! thrown, amid drooping lilies, swells the breeze 
 With sighs unceasing, and the brook with tears. 
 
 Thus in soft anguish he consumes the day, 1030 
 
 Nor quits his deep retirement, till the Moon 
 Peeps through the chambers of the fleecy East, 
 Enlighten'd by degrees, and in her train 
 Leads on the gentle hours; then forth he walks, 
 Beneath the trembling languish of her beam, 
 With soften'd soul, and woos the bird of eve 
 To mingle woes with his: or, while the world, 
 And all the sons of Care lie hush'd in sleep, 
 Associates with the midnight-shadows drear; 
 And, sighing to the lonely taper, pours 1040 
 
 II is idly- tortured heart into the page, 
 ?.I'-ant for the moving r of love; 
 
 Where rapture burns on rapture, every line 
 With rising frenzy fired. But if on bed 
 Delirious flung, sleep from his pillow flies; 
 All night he tosses, nor the balmy power 
 In any posture finds; till the grey morn 
 Lifts her pale lustre on the paler wretch, 
 
SPRING, 29 
 
 Exanimate by love: and then perhaps 
 
 Exhausted nature sinks a while to rest, 1050 
 
 Still interrupted by distracted dreams, 
 
 That o'er the sick imagination rise, 
 
 And in black colours paint the mimic scene. 
 
 Oft with th* enchantress of his soul he talks; 
 Sometimes in crowds distress'd; or if retired 
 To secret winding flower-en woven bowers, 
 Far from the dull impertinence of Man, 
 Just as he, credulous, his endless cares 
 Begins to lose in blind, oblivious love, 
 Snatch'd from her yielded hand, he knows not how. 1060 
 Through forests huge, and long untravell'd heaths, 
 With desolation brown, he wanders waste, 
 In night and tempest wrapt; or shrinks aghast, 
 Back, from the bending precipice; or wades 
 The turbid stream below, and strives to reach 
 The farther shore; where, succourless and sad, 
 She with extended arms his aid implores; 
 But strives in vain; borne by th' outrageous flood 
 To distance down, he rides the ridgy wave, 
 
 Or whelm'd beneath the boiling eddy sinks. 1070 
 
 These are the charming agonies of love, _, ._. ...., 
 
 Whose misery delights. But through the heart 
 
 Should jealousy its venom .once .diffuse, 
 
 'Tis then delightful misery no more; 
 
 But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, 
 
 CorrMihg every thought, and blasting all 
 
 Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then, 
 
 Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, 
 
 Farewell ! Ye gleamings of departed peace, 
 
 Shine out your last ! The yellow-tinging plague 1080 
 
 Internal vision taints, and in a night 
 
 Of livid gloom imagination wraps. 
 
 Ah then, instead of love-enliven'd cheeks, 
 
 Of sunny features, and of ardent eyes 
 
 Wiih flowing rapture bright, dark looks succeed, 
 
 Sufiused and glaring with untender fire; 
 
30 SPRING. 
 
 A clouded aspect, and a burning cheek, 
 
 Where the whole poison'd soul, malignant, sits, 
 
 And frightens love away. Ten thousand fears 
 
 Invented wild, ten thousand frantic views 1090 
 
 Of horrid rivals, hanging on the charms 
 
 For which he melts in fondness, eat him up 
 
 With fervent anguish, and consuming rage. 
 
 In vain reproaches lend their idle aid, 
 
 Deceitful pride, and resolution frail, 
 
 Giving false peace a moment. Fancy pours, 
 
 Afresh, her beauties on his busy thought, 
 
 Her first endearments twining round the soul, 
 
 With all the witchcraft of ensnaring love. 
 
 Straight the fierce storm involves his mind anew, 1100 
 
 Flames through the nerves, and boils along the veins; 
 
 While anxious doubt distracts the tortured heart: 
 
 For even the sad assurance of his fears 
 
 Were ease to what he feels. Thus the warm youth, 
 
 Whom Love deludes into his thorny wild, 
 
 Through flowery-tempting paths, or leads ^Jife 
 
 Of fever' d rapture, or of cruel care; 
 
 His brightest flames extinguished all, and all 
 
 His lively moments running down to waste. 
 
 But happy they ! the happiest of their kind ! 1110 
 
 Whom gentle stars unite, and in one fate 
 THeirliearts, tlieir fortune's, "and their beings blend. 
 'Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, 
 Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, 
 That binds their peace; but harmony itself 
 ,4ttumug all their passions into love; 
 AVliriv i'rii'nd.-hip full-exerts her softest power, 
 Perfect esteem enlivened by desire 
 IiH'tlahle, and sympathy of Soouli 
 
 Thought mrrting thought, and will preventing will, 1120 
 ^Yitll boundless confidence: f>r nought but love 
 Can answer love, and render blissjCgjfr~ 
 
 Let him, ungenerous, who alne intent 
 To bless himself, from sordid parents buys 
 
SPRING. 31 
 
 The loathing virgin, in eternal care, 
 
 Well-merited, consume his nights and days; 
 
 Let barbarous nations, whose inhuman love 
 
 Is wild desire, fierce as the suns they feel; 
 
 Let Eastern tyrants, from the light of Heaven 
 
 Seclude their bosom-slaves, meanly possess'd 1130 
 
 Of a mere lifeless, violated form; 
 
 While those whom love cements in holy faith, 
 
 And equal transport, free as Nature live, . 
 
 Disdaining fear. WhaUgJhel world to them, \ 
 
 Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all 1 
 
 Who in each other clasp whatever fair >;",'.. 
 
 High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wish ; 
 
 Something than beauty dearer, should they look 
 
 Or on the mind, or mind-illumined face; / 
 
 TrutTT,"gooctness, honour, harmony, and love, 1140 
 
 ThB"richest' bounty of indulgent Heaven. 
 
 Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, 
 
 And mingles both their graces. By degrees, 
 
 The human blossom blows; and every day, I 
 
 Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm, \ 
 
 The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. j 
 
 Then infant reason grows apace, and calls 1 
 
 For the kind hand of an assiduous care. ,<-#& 
 
 Delightful task ! JbQLieaiLi he .tender thought, 
 To teach the ycung idea how to shoot, 1150 
 
 To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, 
 To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix 
 The generous purpose in the glowing breast. 
 Oh speak the joy! ye, whom the sudden tear 
 Surprises often, while ye look around, 
 And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss, 
 All various nature pressing on the heart; 
 An elegant sufficiency, content, 
 Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books. 
 Ease and alternate labour, useful life, 1160 
 
 Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven. 
 
 These are the matchless joys of virtuous love: 
 
32 SPRINO. 
 
 And thus their moments fly. The Seasons thus, 
 
 As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll, 
 
 Still find them happy; and consenting Spring 
 
 Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads: 
 
 Till evening comes at last, serene and mild; 
 
 When, after the long vernal day of life, 
 
 Enamour'd more, as more remembrance swells 
 
 With many a proof of recollected love, 1 170 
 
 Together down they sink in social sleep; 
 
 Together freed, their gentle spirits fly 
 
 To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign. 
 
SUMMER 
 
 The subject proposed. Invocation. Address to Mr Dodington. An in- 
 troductory reflection on the motion of the heavenly bodies; whence the 
 succession of the Seasons. As the face of Nature in this season is almost 
 uniform, the progress of the poem is a description of a summer's day. 
 The dawn. Sun-rising. Hymn to the simf T?of enoolf Sufrfnrer in- 
 sects described. Hay-making. Sheep-shearing. Noonday. A wood- 
 land retreat. Group of herds and flocks. A solemn grove : how it affects 
 a contemplative mind. A Cataract, and rjide scene. View of Summer 
 in the torrid zone. Storm of thunder arfct lightning. A Tale. The 
 storm over, a serene afternoon. Bathing. Hour of walking. -Transition 
 to the prospect of a rich, well-cultivated country; which introduces a 
 panegyric on Great Britain. Sunset Evening. Night Summer 
 meteors. A cornet The whole concluding with the praise of Philo- 
 sophy. 
 
 FROM brightening fields of ether fair disclosed, 
 
 Child of the Sun, refulgent Sunimer comes, 
 
 In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth: 
 
 He comes, attended by the sultry hours, 
 
 JCnd ever-fanning breezes, on his way; 
 
 While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring 
 
 Averts her blushful face: and earth, and skies, 
 
 All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves. 
 
 Hence, let me haste into the mid-wood shade, 
 Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom: 10 
 And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink 
 Of haunted stream, that, by the roots of oak 
 Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large, 
 And sing the glories of the circling year. 
 
 Com, Inspiration ! from thy hermit-seat, 
 
34 SUMMER. 
 
 By mortal seldom found: may fancy daro, 
 
 From thy fix'd, serious eye, and raptured glance 
 
 Shot on surrounding Heaven, to steal one look 
 
 Creative of the Poet, every power 
 
 Exalting to an ecstacy of soul. 20 
 
 And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend, 
 
 In whom the human graces all unite: 
 
 Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart: 
 
 GenTus, and wisdom; the gay social sense, 
 
 By decency chastised; goodness and wit, 
 
 I& seldom-meeting harmony combined; 
 
 Unblemish'd honour, and an active zeal 
 
 For Britain's glory. Liberty, and Man: 
 
 (JDodington ! attend my rural song, 
 
 Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line, 30 
 
 And teach me to deserve thy just applause. 
 With what an awful world-revolving power 
 
 Were first th' unwieldy planets launch'd along 
 
 Th' illimitable void ! Thus to remain, 
 
 Amid the flux of many thousand years, 
 
 That oft has swept the toiling race of Men 
 
 And all their labour'd monuments away, 
 
 Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course; 
 
 To the kind-temper'd change of night and day, 
 
 And of the Seasons ever stealing round, 40 
 
 /Minutely faithful: Such th' all-perfect Hand! 
 : That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole. 
 When now no more th' alternate Twins are fired, 
 
 And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze, 
 
 Short is the doubtful empire of the night; 
 
 And soon, observant of approaching day, 
 
 The meek-eyed Morn appears, mother of dews, 
 
 At first faint-gleaming in the dappled East: 
 
 Till far e'er ether spreads the widening glow; 
 
 And, from before the lustre of her face, 50 
 
 White break the clouds away. With quk-kenM step, 
 
 Brown Night retires: young Day pours in apace, 
 
 And opens all the lawny prospect wide. 
 
SUMMER. 
 
 Lo '. nov, apparen 
 -bright ea'rth. and folo 
 oundless majesty abro 
 
SUMMER. 35 
 
 The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top, 
 Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn ; 
 
 Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine; 
 And from the bladed field the fearful hare 
 Limps, awkward: while along the forest glade 
 
 The wild deer trip, and often turning, gaze 
 
 At early passenger. Music awakes 60 
 
 The native voice of undissembled joy; 
 
 And thick around the woodland hymns arise. 
 Roused by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves 
 
 IJis^ mossy cottage, where with peace he dwells; 
 
 And from the crowded fold, in order, drives 
 
 His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn. 
 Falsely luxurious, will not man awake; 
 
 And f .springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy 
 
 r ^he cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, 
 
 To meditation due and sacred song ] 70 
 
 For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise ? 
 
 To lie in dead oblivion, losing half 
 
 The fleeting moments of too short a life; 
 
 Total extinction of th' enlighten' d soul ! 
 
 Or else to feverish vanity alive, 
 
 Wilder v dj and tossing through distemper'd dreams 1 
 
 Who would in such a gloomy state remain 
 
 Longer than Nature craves: when every Muse 
 
 And every blooming pleasure wait without, 
 
 To bless the wildly-devious morning-walk 1 80 
 
 But yonder comes the powerful King of Day, 
 
 Rejoicing in the East. The lessening cloud, 
 
 The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
 
 Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach 
 
 Betoken glad. Lo ! now, apparent all, 
 
 Aslant the dew-bright earth, and colour'd air, 
 
 He looks in boundless majesty abroad; 
 
 And sheds the shining day, that burnish'd plays 
 
 On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wand'ring streams. 
 
 High-gleaming from afar. Prime cheerer Light ! 90 
 
 Of all material beings first, and best ! 
 
36 SUMMER. 
 
 Efflux divine ! Nature's resplendent robe ! 
 Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt 
 In unessential gloom; and thou, Sun ! 
 Soul of surrounding worlds ! in whom best seen 
 Shines out thy Milker! may I sing of thee I 
 
 'I is liy thy secret, strong, 'attractive force, 
 As with a chain indissoluble bound, 
 Thy System rolls entire: from the far bourne 
 Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round 100 
 
 Of thirty years; to Mercury, whose disk 
 Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, 
 Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze. 
 
 Informer of the planetary train ! 
 Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous oijs 
 Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead, 
 And not, as now, the green abodes of life ! 
 How many forms of being wait on thee, 
 Inhaling spirit ! from th' unfetter' d mind, 
 By thee sublimed, down to the daily race, 110 
 
 The mixing myriads of thy setting beam. 
 
 The vegetable world is also thine, 
 Parent of Seasons ! who the pomp precede 
 That waits thy throne; as through thy vast domain, 
 Annual, along the bright ecliptic road, 
 In world-rejoicing state, it moves sublime. 
 Meantime, th' expecting nations, circled gay, 
 With all the various tribes of foodful earth, 
 Implore thy bounty, or send grateful up 
 A common hymn: while, round thy beaming car, 120 
 
 High-seen, the Seasons lead, in sprightly dance 
 Harmonious knit, the rosy-finger' d Hours; 
 The Zephyrs floating loose; the timely Rains; 
 Of bloom ethereal the light-footed Dews; 
 And soften'd into joy the surly Storms. 
 These, in successive turn, with lavish hand, 
 Shower every beauty, every fragrance shower, 
 Herbs, flowers, and fruits; till, kindling at thy touch, 
 From land to land is flush'd the vernal year. 
 
SUMMER. 37 
 
 Nor to the surface of enliven'd earth, 130 
 
 Graceful with hills and dales, and leafy woods, 
 Her liberal tresses, is thy force confined: 
 But, to the howell'd cavern darting deep, 
 The mineral kinds confess thy mighty power. 
 Effulgent, hence, the veiny marble shines; 
 Hence Labour draws his tools; hence burnished 
 
 War 
 
 Gleams on the day; the nobler works of Peace 
 Hence bless mankind, and generous Commerce binds 
 The round of nations in a golden chain. ' j 
 
 Th r unTruitful rock itself, impregn'd by thee, 140 
 
 In dark retirement forms the lucid stone. 
 The lively Diamond drinks thy purest rays, 
 Collected light, compact; that, polish'd bright, 
 And all its native lustre let abroad, 
 Dares, as it sparkles on the fair-one's breast, 
 With vain ambition emulate her eyes. 
 At thee the Ruby lights its deepening glow, 
 And with a waving radiance inward flames. 
 From thee the Sapphire, solid ether, takes 
 Its hue cerulean; and of evening tinct, 150 
 
 The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine. 
 With thy own smile the yellow Topaz burns. 
 Nor deeper verdure dies the robe of Spring, 
 When first she gives it to the southern gale, 
 Than the green Emerald shows. But, all combined, 
 Thick through the whitening Opal play thy beams; 
 Or, flying several from its surface, form 
 A trembling variance of revolving hues, 
 As the site varies in the gazer's hand. 
 
 The very dead creation, from thy touch, 160 
 
 Assumes a mimic life. By thee refined, 
 In brighter mazes the relucent stream 
 Plays o'er the mead. The precipice abrupt, 
 Projecting horror on the blacken' d flood. 
 Softens at thy return. The desert joys 
 Wildly, through all his melancholy bounds. 
 
38 SUMMER. 
 
 Rude ruins glitter; and the briny deep, 
 
 Seen from some pointed promontory's top, 
 
 Far to the blue horizon's utmost verge, 
 
 Restless, reflects a floating gleam. But this, 170 
 
 And all the much-transported Muse can sing, 
 
 Are to thy beauty, dignity, and use, 
 
 Unequal far; great delegated source 
 
 Of light, and life, and grace, and joy below ! 
 
 How shall I then attempt to sing of Him ! 
 Who, Light Himself, in uncreated light 
 Invested deep, dwells awfully retired 
 From mortal eye, or angel's purer ken; 
 Whose single smile has, from the first of time, 
 Fill'd, overflowing, all those lamps of Heaven, 180 
 
 That beam for ever through the boundless sky: 
 But, should he hide his face, th' astonish'd sun, 
 And all the extinguish' d stars, would loosening reel 
 Wide from their spheres, and Chaos come again. 
 
 And yet, was every faltering tongue of Man, 
 Almighty Father ! silent in thy praise, 
 Thy works themselves would raise a general voice, 
 Even in the depth of solitary woods 
 By human foot untrod; proclaim thy power, 
 And to the quire celestial Thee resound, 190 
 
 Th' eternal cause, support, and end of all ! 
 
 To me be Nature's volume broad-display'd; 
 And to peruse its all-instructing page, 
 Or, haply catching inspiration thence, 
 Some easy passage, raptured, to translate, 
 My sole delight; as through the falling glooms 
 IVnsive I stray, or with the rising dawn. 
 On Fancy's eagle-wing excursive soar. 
 
 Now, flaming up the heavens, the potent sun 
 Melts into limpid air the high-raised clouds, 200 
 
 And morning fogs, that hover'd round the hills 
 In party-colour'd bands; till wide unveil'd 
 The face of Nature shines, from where earth seems, 
 Far-stretch'd around, to meet the bending sphere. 
 
SUMMER. 39 
 
 Half in a blush of clust'ring roses lost, 
 Dew-dropping Coolness to the shade retires; 
 There, on the verdant turf, or flowery bed, 
 By gelid founts and careless rills to muse; 
 While tyrant Heat, dispreading through the sky, 
 With rapid sway, his burning influence darts 210 
 
 On Man, and beast, and herb, and tepid stream. 
 
 Who can unpitying see the flowery race, 
 Shed by the morn, their new-flush' d bloom resign, 
 Before the parching beam 1 So fade the fair, 
 When fevers revel through their azure veins. 
 But one, the lofty follower of the sun, 
 Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves, 
 Drooping all night; and, when he warm returns, 
 Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray. 
 
 Home, from his morning task, the swain retreats; 220 
 His flock before him stepping to the fold; 
 While the full-udder'd mother lows around 
 The cheerful cottage, then expecting food, 
 The food of innocence, and health ! The daw, 
 The rook, and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks 
 That the calm village in their verdant arms, 
 Sheltering, embrace, direct their lazy flight; 
 Where on the mingling boughs they sit embower'd, 
 All the hot noon, till cooler hours arise. 
 Faint, underneath, the household fowls convene; 230 
 
 And, in a corner of the buzzing shade, 
 The house-dog, with the vacant greyhound, lies, 
 Outstretch' d, and sleepy. In his slumbers one 
 Attacks the nightly thief, and one exults 
 O'er hill and dale; till, waken'd by the wasp, 
 They starting snap. Nor shall the Muse disdain 
 To let the little noisy summer-race 
 Live in her lay, and flutter through her song: 
 Not mean though simple; to the sun ally'd, 
 From him they draw their animating fire. 240 
 
 Waked by his warmer ray, the reptile young 
 Come winged abroad; by the light air upborne, 
 
40 SUMMER. 
 
 Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink, 
 And secret corner, where they slept away 
 The wintry storms; or rising from their tombs, 
 To higher life; by myriads, forth at once, 
 Swarming they pour; of all the varied hues 
 Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose. 
 
 Ten thousand forms ! ten thousand different tribes ! 
 People the blaze. To sunny waters some 250 
 
 By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool 
 They, sportive, wheel; or, sailing down the stream, 
 Are snatch'd immediate by the quick-eyed trout, 
 Or darting salmon. Through the greenwood glade 
 Some love to stray; there lodged, amused, and fed, 
 In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make 
 The meads their choice, and visit every flower, 
 And every latent herb: for the sweet task, 
 To propagate their kinds, and where to wrap, 
 In what soft beds, their young yet undisclosed, 260 
 
 Employs their tender care. Some to the house, 
 The fold, and dairy, hungry, bend their flight; 
 Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese: 
 Oft, inadvertent, from the milky stream 
 They meet their fate; or, weltering in the bowl, 
 With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire. 
 
 But chief to heedless flies the window proves 
 A constant death; where, gloomily retired, 
 The villain spider lives, cunning, and fierce, 
 Mixture abhorr'd ! Amid a mangled heap 270 
 
 Of carcasses, in eager watch he sits, 
 O'erlooking all his waving snares around. 
 Near the dire cell the dreadless wanderer oft 
 Passes, as oft the ruffian shows his front; 
 The prey at last ensnared, he dreadful darts, 
 With rapid glide, along the leaning line; 
 And, fixing in the wretch his cruel fangs, 
 Strikes backward grimly pleased: the fluttering wing, 
 And shriller sound, declare extreme distress, 
 And ask the helping hospitable hand. 280 
 
SUMMER. 41 
 
 Resounds the living surface of the ground: 
 Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum, 
 To him who muses through the woods at noon; 
 Or drowsy shepherd, as lie lies reclined, 
 With half-shut eyes, beneath the floating shade 
 Of willows grey, close-crowding o'er the brook. 
 
 Gradual, from these what numerous kinds descend, 
 ding even the microscopic eye ! 
 Mature swarms with life; onejwxmdrous mass 
 
 Tammals, or atoms organised, 290 
 
 Waiting the vital Breath, when Parent-Heaven 
 Shall hid his spirit blow. The hoary fen, 
 In putrid streams, emits the living cloud 
 Of Destilence. Through subterranean cells, 
 Where searching sunbeams scarce can find a way, 
 Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf 
 Wants not its soft inhabitants. Secure, 
 Within its winding citadel, the stone 
 Holds multitudes. But chief the forest-boughs, 
 That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze, 300 
 
 The downy orchard, and the melting pulp 
 Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed 
 Of evanescent insects. Where the pool 
 Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible, 
 Amid the floating verdure millions stray. 
 
 Each liquid, too, whether it pierces, soothes, 
 Inflames, refreshes, or exalts the taste, 
 With various forms abounds. Nor is the stream 
 Of purest crystal, nor the lucid air, 
 
 Though one transparent vacancy it seems, 310 
 
 Void of their unseen people. These, conceal'd 
 Byjh^e kirid, art .of forming. Heaven, escape 
 The grosser eye of Man: for^if the. worlds 
 In Worlds enclosed should on his senses burst, 
 From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl, 
 lie would __ abhorrent^ turn; _ and in dead night, 
 When silence sleeps o'er all, be stunn'd with noise. 
 
 Let no presuming impious railer tax 
 
42 BUMMER. 
 
 Creative Wisdom, a^jfjiu^ht was f"im\l 
 
 ^ 
 i vain, or not for adrnirable~encFsr 
 
 320 
 
 Shall little haughty i-imrance pronounce 
 
 His works unwise, of which the smallest part 
 
 Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind? 
 
 As if upon a full-proportion'd dome, 
 
 On swelling columns heaved, the pride of art ! 
 
 A critic-fly ? whose feeble ray scarce spreads 
 
 An inch around, with blind presumption bold, 
 
 Should dare to tax the structure of the whole. 
 
 And lives the Man, whose universal eye 
 
 Has swept at once th v unbounded scheme of things; 330 
 
 Mark'd their dependence so, and firm accord, 
 
 As with unfaltering accent to conclude 
 
 That this availeth nought? Has any seen. 
 
 The mighty chain of beings^ lessening down 
 
 From Infinite Perfection to the brink 
 
 Of dreary Nothing, desolate abyss ! 
 
 From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns ? 
 
 Till then alone let zealous praise ascend, 
 
 And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power, 
 
 Whose wisdom shines as lovely on our minds, 340 
 
 As on our smiling eyes his servant-sun. 
 
 Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways, 
 Upward and downward, thwarting, and convolved, 
 The quivering nations sport; till, tempest- wing'd, 
 JFierce Winter sweeps them from the face of day. 
 Even so luxurious Men, unheeding, pass 
 An idle summer life in fortune's shine; 
 A season's glitter ! Thus they flutter on 
 From toy to toy, from vanity to vice; 
 Till, blown away by death, oblivion comes 350 
 
 Behind, and strikes them from the book of life, 
 
 Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead: 
 The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil, 
 Healthful and strong; full as the summer-rose 
 Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid, 
 Half -naked, swelling on the sight, and all 
 
SUMMER. 43 
 
 Her kindled graces burning o'er her check. 
 
 Even stooping age is here; and infant-hands 
 
 Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load i 
 
 Overcharged, amid the kind oppression roll. 360 
 
 Wide flies the tedded grain; all in a row ^^ 
 
 Advancing broad, or wheeling round the field, 
 
 They spread the breathing harvest to the sun, 
 
 That throws refreshful round a rural smell: 
 
 Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground. 
 
 And drive the dusky wave along the mead, 
 
 The russet hay-cock rises thick behind, 
 
 In order gay. While heard from dale to dale, 
 
 Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice 
 
 Of hagrjyJabQU3r t lo,Yfi,-and somLgleA. 370 
 
 Dr rushing thence, in one diffusive band, 
 They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog 
 Compell'd, to where the mazy-running brook 
 Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt and high, 
 And that fair-spreading in a pebbled shore. 
 Urged to the giddy brink, much is the toil, 
 The clamour much, of men, and boys, and dogs, 
 Ere the soft fearful people to the flood 
 Commit their woolly sides. And oft the swain, 
 On some impatient seizing, hurls them in: 380 
 
 Embolden'd then, nor hesitating more, 
 Fast, fast they plunge amid the flashing wave, 
 And panting labour to the farthest shore. 
 Repeated this, till deep the well-wash'd fleece 
 Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt 
 The trout is banish'd by the sordid stream; 
 Heavy, and dripping, to the breezy brow 
 Slow move the harmless race: where, as they spread 
 Their swelling treasures to the sunny ray, 
 Inly disturb' d, and wondering what tliis wild 390 
 
 Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints 
 The country fill; and toss'd from rock to rock, 
 Incessant bleatmgs run around the hills. 
 At last, of snowy white, the gather'd flocks 
 
44 BUMMER. 
 
 Are in the wattled pen innumerous press'd, 
 
 Head above head; and, ranged in lusty rows 
 
 The shepherds sit, and whet the sounding shears. 
 
 The house wife waits to roll her fleecy stores, 
 
 With all her gay-drest maids attending round. 
 
 One, chief, in gracious dignity enthroned, 400 
 
 Shines o'er the rest, the past'ral queen, and rays 
 
 Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king; 
 
 While the glad circle round them yield their souls 
 
 To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. 
 
 Meantime, their joyous task goes on apace: 
 
 Some mingling stir the melted tar, and some, 
 
 Deep on the new-shorn vagrant's heaving side, 
 
 To stamp his master's cypher ready stand: 
 
 Others th' unwilling wether drag along; 
 
 And, glorying in his might, the sturdy boy 410 
 
 Holds by the twisted horns th' indignant ram. 
 
 Behold, where bound, and of its robe bereft, 
 
 By needy Man, that all-depending lord, 
 
 How meek, how patient, the mild creature lies ! 
 
 What softness in its melancholy face, 
 
 What dumb complaining innocence appears ! 
 
 Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the knife 
 
 Of horrid slaughter that is o'er you waved; 
 
 No, 'tis the tender swain's well-guided shears. 
 
 Who having now, to pay his annual care, 420 
 
 Borrow'd your fleece, to you a cumbrous load, 
 
 Will send you bounding to your hills again. 
 
 A simple scene! yeLJience BRITANNIA sees 
 Iler.solid grandeur rise: h-mv she commands 
 TjVjyral tflfl sforpgjif every brighter clime, 
 The treasures of the Sun without his : 
 H'-IKV. fervent all^ with culture, toil, ami arts, 
 Wide glows her land: her dreadful thunder hence 
 Rides o'er the waves sublime; and now, even now, 
 Impending hangs o'er Gallia's humbled jcoast; 430 
 
 Hence rules the circling deep, and av. rid. 
 
 'Tis raging Noon; and, vertical, the Sun 
 
SUMMER. 45 
 
 Darts on the head direct his forceful rays. 
 
 O'er heaven and earth, far as the ranging eye 
 
 Can sweep, a dazzling deluge reigns; and all 
 
 From pole to pole is undistinguish'd blaze. 
 
 In vain the sight, dejected to the ground, 
 
 Stoops for relief; thence hot ascending steams 
 
 And keen reflection pain. Deep to the root 
 
 Of vegetation parch' d, the cleaving fields 440 
 
 And slippery lawn an arid hue disclose; 
 
 Blast Fancy's bloom, and wither even the Soul. 
 
 Echo no more returns the cheerful sound 
 
 Of sharpening scythe: the mower sinking heaps 
 
 O'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfumed; 
 
 And scarce a chirping grasshopper is heard 
 
 Through the dumb mead. Distressful Nature pants. 
 
 The very streams look languid from afar; 
 
 Or, through th' unshelter'd glade, impatient, seem 
 
 To hurl into the covert of the grove. 450 
 
 All-conquering Heat ! oh intermit thy wrath, 
 And on my throbbing temples potent thus 
 Beam not so fierce ! incessant still you flow, 
 And still another fervent flood succeeds, 
 Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh, 
 And restless turn, and look around for Night: 
 Night is far off: and hotter hours approach. 
 Thrice happy he ! who, on the sunless side 
 Of a romantic mountain, forest-crown'd, 
 Beneath the whole collected shade reclines: 460 
 
 Or in the gelid caverns, woodbine-wrought, 
 And fresh-bedew'd with ever-spouting streams, 
 Sits coolly calm; while all the world without, 
 Unsatisfied, and sick, tosses in noon. 
 Emblem instructive of the jvirtuous. man^. 
 Who keeps his temper' d mind serene, and pure, 
 And every passion aptly harmonised, 
 Amid a jarring world with vice inflamed. 
 
 Welcome, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets, hail ! 
 Ye lofty pines ! ye venerable oaks ! 470 
 
46 SUMMER. 
 
 Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep ! 
 
 Delicious is your shelter to the soul, 
 
 As to the hunted hart the sallying spring, 
 
 Or stream full-flowing, that his swelling sides 
 
 Laves, as he floats along the herbaged brink. 
 
 Cool, through the nerves, your pleasing comfort glides; 
 
 The heart beats glad; the fresh-expanded eye 
 
 And ear resume their watch; the sinews knit; 
 
 And life shoots swift through all the lighten'd limbs. 
 
 Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along 480 
 
 The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock, 
 Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool, 
 Now starting to a sudden stream, and now 
 Gently diffused into a limpid plain, 
 A various group the herds and flocks compose, 
 Rural confusion ! On the grassy bank 
 Some ruminating lie; while others stand 
 Half in the flood, and often bending sip 
 The circling surface. In the middle droops 
 The strong laborious ox, of honest front, 490 
 
 Which in composed he shakes; and from his sides 
 The troublous insects lashes with his tail, 
 Returning still. Amid his subjects safe, 
 Slumbers the monarch-swain; his careless arm 
 Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd; 
 Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fill'd; 
 There, listening every noise, his watchful dog. 
 
 Light fly his slumbers, it' perchance a flight 
 Of angry gad-flies fasten on the herd; 
 That startling scatters from the shallow brook, 500 
 
 In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam, 
 They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain, 
 Through all the bright severity of noon; 
 While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan 
 Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills. 
 
 Oft in this season, too, the horse, provoked, 
 While his big sinews full of spirits swell, 
 Trembling with vigour, in the heat of blood, 
 
SUMMER. 47 
 
 Springs the high fence; and, o'er the field effused, 
 
 Darts on the gloomy flood, with steadfast eye, 510 
 
 And heart estranged to fear: his nervous chest, 
 
 Luxuriant, and erect, the seat of strength! 
 
 Bears down th' opposing stream: quenchless his thirst; 
 
 He takes the river at redoubled draughts; 
 
 And with wide nostrils, snorting, skims the wave. 
 
 Still let me pierce into the. midnight depth 
 Of 3mndfir,grove, of wildest, largest growth; 
 That, forming high in air a woodland quire, 
 Kods o'er the mount beneath. At every step, 
 Solemn, and slow, the shadows blacker fall, 520 
 
 And all is awful listening gloom around. 
 
 These are ''the haunts of Meditation; these 
 The scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring breath, 
 Ecstatic, felt; and, from this world retired, 
 Conversed with angels, and immortal forms, 
 Oh gracious errands bent; to save, the fall 
 Of virtue struggling on the brink of vice.; 
 IrfwaTong whispers, and repeated dreams, 
 To .hint pure thought, and warn the favour'd soul, 
 FQT future trials fated to prepare; 
 To prompt the poet, who devoted gives 
 His muse to better themes;, to soothe the pangs 
 (5f dying worth, and from the patriot's breast 
 (Backward to mingle in detested war, 
 But foremost when engaged) to turn the death; 
 And numberless such offices of love, 
 Daily, and nightly, zealous to perform. 
 
 Shook sudden from the bosom of the sky, 
 A thousand shapes or glide athwart the dusk, 
 Or stalk majestic on. Deep-roused^ I feel 540 
 
 A sacred terror, a severej.elightj 
 Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, metliinks, 
 A voice, than human more, th r abstracted ear 
 Of fancy strikes: "Be not of us afraid, 
 Poor kindred Man ! thy fellow-creatures, we 
 From the same Parent-Power our beings drew. 
 
48 SUMMER. 
 
 The same our Lord, and laws, and great pursuit. 
 
 Once some of us, like thee, through stormy life, 
 
 Toil'd, tempest-beaten, ere- we could attain 
 
 This holy calm, this harmony of mind, 550 
 
 "Where purity and peace immingle charms. 
 
 Then fear iu>t us; but with responsive song, 
 
 Amid these dim recesses, undisturb'd 
 
 By noisy folly and discordant vice, 
 
 Of Nature sing with us, and Nature's God.. 
 
 Here frequent at the visionary hour, 
 
 When musing midnight reigns or silent noon, 
 
 Angelic harps are in full concert heard, 
 
 And voices chanting from the wood-crown'd hill, 
 
 The deepening dale, or inmost sylvan glade: 560 
 
 A privilege bestow' d by us, alone, v 
 
 On contemplation or the hallow'd ear \ 
 
 Of poet, swelling to seraphic strains." J 
 
 And art thou, Stanley, of that sacred band ? 
 Alas, for us too soon! ""Though raised above 
 The reach of human pain, above the flight 
 Of human joy; yet, with a mingled ray 
 Of sadly-pleased remembrance, must thou feel 
 A mother's love, a mother's tender wo: 
 Who seeks thee still, in many a former scene; 570 
 
 Seeks thy fair form, thy lovely-beaming eyes, 
 Thy pleasing converse, by^ gay lively sense 
 Inspired; where moral wisdom mildly shone, 
 Without the toil of art; and virtue glow'd, 
 In all her smiles, without forbidding pride. 
 But, thou best of parents ! wipe thy tears; 
 Or rather to Parental Nature pay 
 The tears of grateful joy, who for a while 
 Lent thee this younger self, this opening bloom 
 Of thy enlighten'd mind and gentle worth. 580 
 
 Believe the Muse: the wintry blast of death 
 Kills not the buds of virtue; no, they spread, 
 Beneath the heavenly beam of brighter suns, 
 Through endless ages, into higher powers. 
 
SUMMER. 49 
 
 Thus up the mount, in airy vision rapt, 
 I stray, regardless whither; tilftne sound 
 Of a near fall of water every sense 
 Wakes from the charm of thought; swift-shrinking back, 
 I check my steps, and view the broken scene. 
 
 Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood 590 
 
 Rolls fair, and placid, where collected all, 
 In one impetuous torrent, down the steep 
 It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round. 
 At first, an azure sheet, it rushes broad: 
 Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls, 
 And from the loud-resounding rocks below 
 Dash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft 
 A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower. 
 Nor can the tortured wave here find repose; 
 But, raging still amid the shaggy rocks, 600 
 
 Now flashes o'er the scatter'd fragments, now 
 Aslant the hollow'd channel rapid darts; 
 And falling fast from gradual slope to slope, 
 With wild infracted course, and lessen'd roar, 
 It gains a safer bed, and steals, at last, 
 Along the mazes of the quiet vale. 
 
 Invited from the cliff, to whose dark brow 
 He clings^ the steep-ascending eagle soars, 
 With upward pinions through the flood of day; 
 And, giving full his bosom to the blaze, 610 
 
 Gains on the sun; while all the tuneful race, 
 Smit by the afflictive noon, disorder'd droop, 
 Deep in the thicket; or, from bower to bower 
 Responsive, force an interrupted strain. 
 The stock-dove only through the forest coos, 
 Mournfully hoarse; oft ceasing from his plaint: 
 Short interval of weary wo ! again 
 The sad idea of his murdered mate, 
 Struck from his side by savage fowler's guile, 
 Across his fancy comes; and then resounds 620 
 
 A louder song of sorrow through the grove. 
 
 Beside the dewy border let me sit, 
 
50 SUMMER. 
 
 All in the freshness of the humid air; 
 There in that hollow'd rock, grotesque and wild, 
 An ample chair moss-lined, and over head 
 By flowering umbrage shaded: where the bee 
 Strays diligent, and with th* extracted balm 
 Of fragrant woodbine loads his little thigh. 
 
 Now, while I taste the sweetness of the shade, 
 While Nature lies around deep-lull'd in noon, 630 
 
 Nu\v come, bold Fancy! spread a daring flight, 
 And view the woiwigrs_qf the Torrid Zone: 
 Climes unrelenting ! with whose rage compared, 
 Yon blaze is feeble, and yon skies are cool. 
 
 See, how at once the bright effulgent sun, 
 Rising direct, swift chases from the sky 
 The short-lived twilight; and with ardent blaze 
 Looks gaily fierce through all the dazzling air: 
 He mounts his throne; but kind before him sends, 
 Issuing from out the portals of the morn, 640 
 
 The general breeze, to mitigate his fire, 
 And breathe refreshment on a fainting world. 
 Gi^alj^e_the_^c^ns^.\KiLh .dr^adful^cauty^ cro wn'd 
 And barbarous wealth, that see, each circling year, 
 Returning suns and double seasons pass: 
 Rocks rich in gems, and mountains ^Mg_with mines, 
 ThaToiTtne High equator ridgy rise, 
 Whence many a bursting stream auriferous plays; 
 Majestic woods, of every vigorous green, 
 Stage above stage, high-waving o'er the hills; 650 
 
 Or to the far horizon wide diffused, 
 A boundless deep immensity of shade. 
 
 Here lofty trees, to ancient song unknown, 
 The noble sons of potent heat and floods 
 Prone-rushing from the clouds, rear high to Heaven 
 Then* thoniy stems, and broad around them throw 
 Meridian gloom. Here, in eternal prime, 
 Unnumber'd fruits, of keen delicious taste 
 And vital spirit, drink amid the cliffs, 
 And burning sands that bank the slirubby vales, 660 
 
BUMMER. 51 
 
 Redoubled day; yet in their rugged coats 
 A friendly juice to cool its rage contain. 
 
 Bear me, Pomona ! to thy citron groves; 
 To where the lemon and the piercing lime, 
 With the deep orange, glowing through the green, 
 Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclined 
 Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes, 
 Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit. 
 Deep in the night the massy locust sheds, 
 Quench my hot limbs; or lead me through the maze, 670 
 Embowering endless, of the Indian fig; 
 Or thrown at gayer ease, on some fair brow, 
 Let me behold, by breezy murmurs cool'd, 
 Broad o'er my head the verdant cedar wave, 
 And high palmettos lift their graceful shade. 
 Or, stretch'd amid these orchards of the sun, 
 Give me to drain the cocoa's milky bowl, 
 And from the palm to draw its freshening wine; 
 More bounteous far than all the frantic juice 
 Which Bacchus pours. Nor, on its slender twigs 680 
 
 Low-bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd; 
 Nor, creeping through the woods, the gelid race 
 Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells r 
 Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp. -J 
 Witness, thou be^t Anetna! thou the pride 
 Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er 
 The poets imaged in the golden age; 
 Quick let me strip thee of thy tufty coat, 
 Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove ! 
 
 From these the prospect varies. Plains immense 690 
 Lie stretch'd below, interminable meads, 
 And vast savannahs, where the wandering eye, 
 Unfix' d, is in a verdant ocean lost. 
 Another Flora there, of bolder hues, 
 And richer sweets, beyond our garden's pride, 
 Plays o'er the fields, and showers with sudden hand 
 Exuberant spring; for oft these valleys shift 
 Their green-einbroider'd robe to fiery brown, 
 
52 SUMMER. 
 
 And swift to green again, as scorching suns, 
 
 Or streaming dews and torrent rains, prevail. 700 
 
 Along these lonely regions, where, retired 
 From little scenes of art, great Nature dwells 
 In awful solitude; and nought is seen 
 BuFtne wild herds that own no master's stall; 
 Prodigious rivers roll their fatt'ning seas; 
 On whose luxuriant herbage, half-conceal' d, 
 Like a fallen cedar, far-diffused his train, 
 Cased in green scales, the crocodile extends. 
 
 The flood disparts: behold ! in plaited mail, 
 Bjelicmoih rears his head. Glanced from his side, 710 
 
 The darted steel in idle shivers flies: 
 He fearless walks the plain, or seeks the hills; 
 Where, as he crops his varied fare, the herds, 
 In widening circle round, forget their food, 
 And at the harmless stranger wondering gaze, 
 
 Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that cast 
 Their ample shade o'er Niger's yellow stream, 
 And where the Ganges rolls his sacred wave; 
 Or mid the central depth of blackening woods, 
 High-raised in solemn theatre around, 720 
 
 Leans the huge elephant: wisest of brutes! 
 truly wise ! with gentle might endow'd, 
 Though powerful, not destructive ! Here he sees 
 Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth, 
 And empires rise and fall; regardless he 
 Of what the never-resting race of Men 
 Project: thrice happy! could he 'scape their guile, 
 Who mine, from cruel avarice, his steps; 
 Or with his tow'ry grandeur swell their state, 
 The pride of kings ! or else his strength pervert, 730 
 
 And bid him rage amid the mortal fray, 
 Astonish'd at the madness of mankind. 
 
 Wide o'er the winding umbrage of the floods, 
 Like vivid blossoms glowing from afar, 
 Thick-swarm the brighter birds. For Nature's hand. 
 That with a sportive vanity has dock'd 
 
SUMMER. 53 
 
 The plumy nations, there her gayest hues 
 
 Profusely pours. But, if she bids them shine, 
 
 Array'd in all the beauteous beams of day, 
 
 Yet frugal still, she humbles them in song. 740 
 
 Nor envy we the gaudy robes they lent 
 
 Proud Mountezuma's realm, whose legions cast 
 
 A boundless radiance waving on the sun, 
 
 While Philomel is ours; while in our shades, 
 
 Through the soft silence of the listening night, 
 
 The sober-suited songstress trills her lay. 
 
 But come, my Muse, the desert-barrier burst, 
 A wild expanse of lifeless sand and sky: 
 And, swifter than the toiling caravan, 
 Shoot o'er the vale of Sennar; ardent climb 750 
 
 The Nubian mountains, and the secret bounds 
 Of jealous Abyssinia boldly pierce. 
 Thou art no ruffian, who beneath the mask 
 Of _Qcial -commerce com'st to rob their wealth; 
 No holy Fury thou, blaspheming Heaven, 
 With consecrated steel to stab their peace, 
 And through the land, yot red from civil wounds, 
 To spread the purple tyranny of Rome, 
 Thou, like the harmless bee, may'st freely range, 
 From mead to mead bright with exalted flowers, 760 
 
 From Jasmine grove to grove, may'st wander gay, 
 Through palmy shades and aromatic woods, 
 That grace the plains, invest the peopled hills, 
 And up the more than Alpine mountains wave. 
 There on the breezy summit, spreading fab-, 
 For many a league; or on stupendous rocks, 
 That from the sun-redoubling valley lift, 
 Cool to the middle air, their lawny tops; 
 Where palaces, and fanes, and villas rise; 
 And gardens smile around, and cultured fields; 770 
 
 And fountains gus i ; and careless herds and flocks 
 Securely stray; a world within itself, 
 Disdaining ail assault: there let me draw 
 Ethereal soul; there drink reviving gales, 
 
54 SUMMER. 
 
 Profusely breathing from the spicy groves, 
 
 And vales of fragrance; there at distance hear 
 
 The roaring floods, and cataracts, that sweep 
 
 From disembowell'd earth the virgin gold; 
 
 And o'er the varied landscape, restless, rove, 
 
 Fervent with life of every fairer kind: 780 
 
 A land of wonders ! which the sun still eyes 
 
 With ray direct, as of the lovely realm 
 
 Enamour'd, and delighting there to dwell 
 
 How changed the scene ! In blazing height of noon, 
 The sun, oppress' d, is plunged in thickest gloom. 
 Still Horror reigns ! a dreary twilight round, 
 Of struggling night and day malignant mix'd ! 
 For to the hot equator crowding fast, 
 Where, highly rarefy' d, the yielding ah* 
 Admits their stream, incessant vapours roll, 790 
 
 Amazing clouds on clouds continual heap'd; 
 Or whirl' d tempestuous by the gusty wind, 
 Or silent borne along, heavy and slow, 
 With the big stores of steaming oceans charged. 
 Meantime, amid these upper seas, condensed 
 Around the cold aerial mountain's brow, 
 And by conflicting winds together dash'd, 
 The Thunder holds his black tremendous throne; 
 From cloud to cloud the rending Lightnings rage 
 Till, in the furious elemental war 800 
 
 Dissolved, the whole precipitated mass 
 Unbroken floods and solid torrents pours. 
 
 The treasures these, hid from the bounded search 
 Of ancient knowledge; whence with annual pomp, 
 Rich king of floods! o'erflows the swelling Nile. 
 From his two springs, in Gojam's sunny realm, 
 Pure-welling out, he through the lucid lake 
 Of fair Dambea rolls his infant-stream. 
 There, by the Naiads nursed, he sports away 
 His playful youth, amid the fragrant isles, 810 
 
 That with unfading verdure smile around. 
 Ambitious, thence the manly river breaks; 
 
SUMMER. 55 
 
 And gathering many a flood, and copious fed 
 
 With all the mellowed treasures of the sky, 
 
 Winds in progressive majesty along: 
 
 Through splendid kingdoms now devolves his maze, 
 
 Now wanders wild o'er solitary tracts 
 
 Of life-deserted sand; till, glad to quit 
 
 The joyless desart, down the Nubian rocks, 
 
 From thundering steep to steep, he pours his urn, 820 
 
 And Egypt joys beneath the spreading wave. 
 
 His brother Niger, too, and all the floods 
 In which the full-form'd maids of Afric lave 
 Their jetty limbs; and all that from the tract 
 Of woody mountains stretch'd through gorgeous Ind 
 Fall on Cor'mandel's coast, or Malabar; 
 From Menam's orient stream, that nightly shines 
 With insect-lamps, to where Aurora sheds 
 On Indus' smiling banks the rosy shower: 
 All, at this bounteous season, ope their urns, 830 
 
 And pour untoiling harvest o'er the land. 
 
 Nor less thy world, Columbus, drinks, refresh'd 
 The lavish moisture of the melting year. 
 Wide o'er his isles, the branching Oronoque 
 Rolls a brown deluge; and the native drives 
 To dwell aloft on life-sufficing trees, 
 At once his dome, his robe, his food, and arms. 
 
 Swell' d by a thousand streams, impetuous hurl'd 
 From all the roaring Andes, huge descends 
 The mighty Orellaria. Scarce the Muse 840 
 
 Dares stretch her wing o'er this enormous mass 
 Of rushing water; scarce she dares attempt 
 The sea-like Plata; to whose dread expanse, 
 Continuous depth, and wondrous length of course, 
 Our floods are rills. With unabated force, 
 In silent dignity they sweep along, x 
 
 And traverse realms unknown, and blooming wilds, ) 
 And fruitful deserts, worlds of solitude ! 
 Where the sun smiles and seasons teem in vain, 
 Unseen, and unenjoy'd. Forsaking these, 850 
 
56 SUMMER. 
 
 O'er peopled plains they fair-diffusive flow, 
 And many a nation feed; and circle safe, 
 In their soft bosom, many a happy isle, 
 ...The scat of blameless Pan, yet undisturb'd 
 By Christian crimes and Eunip.-'s cruel s<>i,s. 
 Thus" pouring on, raey proudly seek the deep, 
 Whose vanquish'd tide, recoiling from the shock, 
 Yields to this liquid weight of half the globe; 
 And Ocean trembles for his green domain. 
 But what avails this wondrous waste of wealth 1 860 
 
 This gay profusion of luxurious bliss 1 
 This pomp of Nature? what their balmy meads, 
 Their powerful herbs, and Ceres void of pain ? 
 By vagrant birds dispersed, and wafting winds, 
 What their unplanted fruits ? What the cool draughts, 
 Th' ambrosial food, rich gums, and spicy health, 
 Their forests yield 1 Their toiling insects what ? 
 Their silky pride, and vegetable robes ] 
 Ah ! what avail their fatal treasures, hid 
 Deep in the bowels of the pitying earth, 870 
 
 Golconda's gems, and sad Potosi's mines, 
 Where dwelt the gentlest children of the sun 1 
 What all that Afric's golden rivers roll, 
 Her od'rous woods, and shining i^ry stores ? 
 Ill-fated race ! the softening arts of Peace; 
 Whatever the humanising .Muses teach; 
 The godlike wisdom of the temper d breast; 
 Progressive truth; the patient force of thought: 
 Investigation calrn ; whose silent powers 
 Command the world; the li-ht that leads to Heaven; 880 
 Kind equal rule, the government of laws, 
 And all protecting Freedom,, which alone 
 Sustains the name and dignity of Man: 
 TIi'-s" are n-L theirs. Tin- paivnt-sun himself 
 Seejns o'er thgworlci of slaves to tyrannise; 
 And, with Oppressive ray,"the roseate bloom 
 Of beauty blasting, gives the gloomy hue 
 And feature gross: or worse, to ruthless deeds, 
 
SUMMER. 
 
 |KV^ 
 
 Mad jealousy, blind rage ; and fell revenge, 
 Their fervid spirit fires. ^Love dwells not there; 890 
 
 The soft regards, the tenderness of life, 
 The heart-shed tear, th' ineffable delight 
 Of sweet humanity: these court the beam 
 Of milder climes; in selfish fierce desire, . 
 And the wild fury of voluptuous .sense, 
 There jogt. The very brute-creation there 
 This rage partakes, and burns with horrid fire. 
 Lo ! the green serpent, from his dark abode, 
 Which even Imagination fears to tread, 
 At noon forth-issuing, gathers up his train 900 
 
 In orbs immense; then, darting out anew, 
 Seeks the refreshing fount; by which diffused, 
 He throws his folds: and while, with threat'ning tongue 
 And deathful jaws erect, the monster curls 
 His flaming crest, all other thirst, appall' d, 
 Or shivering flies, or check'd at distance stands, 
 Nor dares approach. But still more direful he, 
 The small close-lurking minister of Fate, 
 Whose high-concocted venom through the veins 
 A rapid lightning darts, arresting swift 910 
 
 The vital current. Form'd to humble Man, 
 This child of vengeful Nature ! There, sublimed 
 To fearless lust of blood, the savage race 
 Koam, licensed by the shading hour of guilt, 
 And fouV misdeed, when the pure day has shut 
 His sacred eye. The tiger darting fierce 
 Impetuous on the prey his glance has doom'd; 
 The lively-shining leopard, speckled o'er 
 With many a spot, the beauty of the waste; 
 And, scorning all the taming arts of Man, 920 
 
 The keen hyena, fellest of the fell: 
 These, rushing from th' inhospitable woods 
 Of Mauritania, or the tufted isles, 
 That verdant rise amid the Libyan wild, 
 Innumerous glare around their shaggy king, 
 Majestic, stalking o'er the printed sand; 
 
58 SUM 
 
 And, with imperious and repeated roars, 
 
 Demand their fated food. The fearful flocks 
 
 Crowd near the guardian swain: the nobler herds, 
 
 Where round their lordly bull, in rural ease, 930 
 
 They ruminating lie, with horror hear 
 
 The coming rage. Th' awaken'd village starts; 
 
 And to her fluttering breast the mother strains 
 
 Her thoughtless infant. From the pirate's den, 
 
 Or stern Morocco's tyrant fang escaped, 
 
 The wretch half- wishes for his bonds again: 
 
 While, uproar all, the wilderness resounds, 
 
 From Atlas eastward to the frighted Nile. 
 
 Uutiappy he! who front J: lie first of joys, 
 Society, cut oil, is left alone 940 
 
 Amid this world of death. Day after day, 
 Sad on the jutting eminence he sits; ^ 
 
 And views the main that ever toils below; 
 Still fondly forming in the farthest verge 
 Where the round ether mixes with the wave, 
 Ships, dim-discover' d, dropping from the clouds: 
 At evening, to the setting sun he turns 
 A mournful eye. and down his dying heart 
 Sinks helpless; while the wonted roar is up, 
 And hiss continual through the tedious night. 950 
 
 Yet here, even here, into these black abodes 
 Of monsters, tinappall'd, from stooping Rome, 
 And guilty Caesar, Liberty retired, 
 Her Cato following through Xunridiau wilds: 
 Disdainful of Campania's gentle plains, 
 And all the green delights Ausonia pours; 
 When for them she must bend the servile knee, 
 And fawning take the splendid robber's boon. 
 
 Nor stop the terrors of these regions here. 
 Commission'd demons oft, angels of wrath ! 900 
 
 Let loose the raging elements. Breathed hot, 
 From all the boundless furnace of the sky, 
 And the wide glittering waste of burning sand, 
 A suffocating wind the pilgrim smites 
 
SUMMER. 59 
 
 With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil, 
 
 Bon of the desert ! even the camel feels, 
 
 Shot through his wither'd heart, the fiery blast. 
 
 Or from the black-red ether, bursting broad, 
 
 Sallies the sudden whirlwind. Strait the sands, 
 
 Commoved around, in gathering eddies play; 970 
 
 Nearer and nearer still they darkening come; 
 
 Till, with the general all-involving storm 
 
 Swept up, the whole continuous wilds arise; 
 
 And by their noonday fount dejected thrown, 
 
 Or sunk at night in sad disastrous sleep, 
 
 Beneath descending hills, the caravan 
 
 Is buried deep. In Cairo's crowded streets 
 
 Th' impatient merchant, wondering, waits in vain, 
 
 And Mecca saddens at the long delay. ( 
 
 But chief at sea, whose everyCflexiie iwave 980 
 
 Obeys the blast, the aerial tumult swells. 
 In the dread ocean, undulating wide, 
 Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe, 
 The circling T^r^pjo^ whirl' d from point to point, 
 Exhausting all the rage of all the sky, 
 And dire Ecnephia reign. Amid the heavens, 
 Falsely serene, deep in a cloudy speck 
 Compressed, the mighty tempest brooding dwells; 
 Of no regard, save to the skilful eye. 
 Fiery and foul, the small prognostic hangs 990 
 
 Aloft, or on the promontory's brow 
 Musters its force. A faint deceitful calm ! 
 A fluttering gale, the demon sends before, 
 To tempt the spreading sail. Then down at once. 
 Precipitant, descends a mingled mass, 
 Of roaring winds, and flame, and rushing floods. 
 In wild amazement fix'd the sailor stands. 
 Art is too slow: by rapid Fate oppress'd, 
 His broad-wing* d vessel drinks the whelming tide, 
 Hid in the bosom of the black abyss. 1000 
 
 With such mad seas the daring Gama fought, 
 For many a day, and many a dreadful night, 
 F 
 
60 SUMMER. 
 
 Incessant, laboring round the stormy Cape; 
 
 By bold ambition led, and bolder thirst 
 
 Of gold. For then from ancient gloom emerged 
 
 The rising world of trade; the Genius, then, 
 
 Of navigation, that, in hopeless sloth, 
 
 Had slumbered on the vast Atlantic deep, 
 
 For idle ages, starting, heard at last 
 
 The Lusitanian Prince; who, Heav'n-inspired, 1010 
 
 To love of useful gl n roused mankind^. 
 
 And in unbounded Commerce inix'd the world. 
 
 Increasing still the terrors of these storms, 
 His jaws horrific ann'd with threefold fate, 
 Here dwells the direful shark. Lured by the scent 
 Of steaming crowds, of rank disease, and death, 
 Behold ! he rushing cuts the briny flood, 
 Swift as the gale can bear the ship along; 
 And, from the partners of that cruel trade, 
 Which spoils unhappy Guinea of her sons, 1 020 
 
 Demands his share of prey; demands themselves. 
 The stormy Fates descend: one death involves 
 Tyrants and slaves; when strait, their mangled limbs 
 Crashing at once, he dyes the purple seas 
 With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. 
 
 When o'er this world, by equinoctial rains 
 Flooded immense, looks out the joyless sun, 
 And draws the copious stream: from swampy fens, 
 Where putrefaction into life ferments, 
 And breathes destructive myriads; or from woods, 1030 
 Impenetrable shades, recesses foul, 
 In vapours rank and blue corruption wrapt, 
 Whose gloomy horrors yet no desperate foot 
 Has ever dared to pierce; then, wasteful, forth 
 Walks the dire Power of pestilent disease. 
 A thousand hideous fiends her course attend; 
 Sick Nature blasting, and to heartless wo, 
 And feeble desolation, casting down 
 The towering hopes and all the pride of Man. 
 Such as, of late, at Carthagena quench'd 1 
 
 
SUMMER. 61 
 
 The BRITISH fire. You, gallant VERNON ! saw 
 The miserable scene; you, pitying, saw 
 To infant-weakness sunk the warrior's arm ; 
 Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghastly form, 
 The lip pale-quiv'ring, and the beamlcss eye 
 No more with ardour bright: you heard the groans 
 Of agonising ships, from shore to shore; 
 Heard, nightly plunged amid the sullen waves, 
 The frequent corse; while on each other fix'd, 
 In sad presage, the blank assistants seem'd, 1050 
 
 Silent, to ask, whom Fate would next demand. 
 What need I mention those inclement skies, 
 Where, frequent o'er the sickening city, j 
 Thejiercest child of NEMESIS divine, 
 Descends ? from Ethiopia's poison'd woods, 
 From stifled Cairo's filth, and fetid fields 
 With locust-armies putrefying heap'd, 
 This great destroyer sprung. Her awful rage 
 The brutes escape: Man is her destined prey; 
 Intemperate Man ! and, o'er his guilty domes, 1060 
 
 She draws a close incumbent cloud of death; 
 Uninterrupted by the living winds, 
 Forbid to blow a wholesome breeze; and stain' d 
 With many a mixture by the sun, suffused, 
 Of angry aspect. Princely wisdom, then, 
 Dejects his watchful eye; and from the hand 
 OfJeeble justice, ineffectual, drop 
 The sword and balance; mute the voice of joy, 
 And hush'd the clamour of the busy world. 
 Empty the streets, with uncouth verdure clad; 1070 
 
 Into the worst of deserts sudden turn'd 
 The cheerful haunt of Men: unless escaped 
 From the doom'd house, where matchless horror reigns, 
 Shut up by barbarous fear, the smitten wretch, 
 With frenzy wild, breaks loose; and, loud to Heaven 
 Screaming, the dreadful policy arraigns, 
 Inhuman and unwise. The sullen door, 
 Yet uninfected, on its cautious hinge 
 
62 SUMMER. 
 
 Fearing to turn, abhors society: 
 
 Dependants, friends, relations, Love himself, 1080 
 
 Savaged by wo, forget the tender tie, 
 
 The sweet engagement of the feeling heart. 
 
 .but vain their .selfish carej the circling sky, 
 The wide-enlivening air is full of fate; 
 And, struck by turns, in solitary pangs 
 They fall, unblest, untended, and unmourn'd. 
 Thus o'er the prostrate city black Despair 
 Extends her raven wing; while, to complete 
 The scene of desolation, stretch'd around, 
 The grim guards stand, denying all retreat, 1090 
 
 And give the flying wretch a better death. 
 
 Much yet remains unsung: the rage intense 
 Of brazen-vaulted skies, of iron fit-Ids, 
 Where drought and famine starve the blasted year: 
 Fired by the torch of noon to tenfold rage, 
 Th* infuriate hill that shoots the pillar'd flame; 
 And, roused within the subterranean world, 
 Th' expanding earthquake, that resistless shakes 
 Aspiring cities from their solid base, 
 And buries mountains in the flaming gulf. 1100 
 
 But 'tis enough; return, my vagrant Musej 
 A nearer scene of horror calls tliee home. 
 
 Behol6^sTo^sef!ITng M 6 T er tft'tf Wild grove, 
 Unusual darkness broods; and growing gains 
 The full possession of the sky; surcharged 
 With wrathful vapour, from the secret beds, 
 Where sleep the mineral generations, drawn. 
 Thence Nitre, Sulphur, and the fiery spume 
 Of fat Bitumen, steaming on the day, 
 With various-tinctured trains of latent flame, 1110 
 
 Pollute the sky; and in yon baleful cloud, 
 A reddening gloom, a magazine of fate, 
 Ferment; till, by the touch ethereal roused, 
 The dash of clouds, or irritating war 
 Of fighting winds, while all is calm below, 
 They furious spring. A boding silence reigns 
 
SUMMER. 63 
 
 Dread through the dun expanse; save the dull sound 
 
 That from the mountain, previous to the storm, 
 
 Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood, 
 
 And shakes the forest-leaf without a breath. 11 20 
 
 Prone, to the lowest vale, th' aerial tribes 
 
 Descend: the tempest-loving raven scarce 
 
 Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze 
 
 The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens 
 
 Cast a deploring eye; by Man forsook, 
 
 Who to the crowded cottage hies him fast, 
 
 Or seeks the shelter of the downward cave. 
 
 'Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all: 
 When to the startled eye the sudden glance 
 Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud; 1130 
 
 And following slower, in explosion vast, 
 The Thunder raises his tremendous voice. 
 At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven, 
 The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes, 
 And rolls its awful burden on the wind, 
 The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more 
 The noise astounds: till over head a sheet 
 Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts, 
 And opens wider; shuts and opens still 
 Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. 1140 
 
 Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar, 
 Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal 
 Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth. 
 
 Down comes a deluge of sonorous hail, 
 Or prone-descending rain. Wide rent, the clouds 
 Pour a whole flood; and yet, its flame unquench'd, 
 The unconquerable lightning struggles through, 
 Ragged and fierce, or in red whirling balls, 
 And fires the mountains with redoubled rage. 
 Black from the stroke, above the smouldering pine 1150 
 Stands a sad shattered trunk; and, stretch'd below, 
 A lifeless group the blasted cattle lie: 
 Here the soft flocks, with that same harmless look 
 They wore alive, and ruminating still 
 
64 SUMMER. 
 
 In fancy's eye; and there the frowning bull 
 
 And ox half-raised. Struck on the castled cliff 
 
 The venerable tower and spiry fane 
 
 Resign their aged pride. The gloomy woods 
 
 Start at the flash, and from their deep recess, 
 
 Wide-flaming out, their trembling inmates shake. 11 GO 
 
 Amid Caernarvon's mountains rages loud 
 
 The repercus^ive roar: with mighy crush, 
 
 Into the flashing deep, from the rude rocks 
 
 Of Penmanmaur heap'd hideous to the sky, 
 
 Tumble the smitten cliffs; and Snowdon's peak, 
 
 Dissolving, instant yields his wintry load. 
 
 Far-seen, the heights of heathy Cheviot blaze, 
 
 And Thule bellows through her utmost isles. 
 
 Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply-troubled thought. 
 And yet not always on the guilty head 1170 
 
 Descends the fated Hash. Young Celadon 
 And his Amelia were a matchless pairj"" 
 With equal virtue formed, and equal grace, 
 The same, distinguished by their sex alone: 
 Hers the mild lustre of the blooming morn, 
 And his the radiance of the risen day. 
 
 They loved: but such their guileless passion was, 
 As in thiniawn of time inform'd the heart 
 Of innocence and iiiulisseinbiing truth. 
 'T was' friendship 1 1 e i L r l i t^d^bythelp^ual 
 Th' enchanting hope, aiuTsympathetic glow, 
 Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all 
 To love, each was to each a dearer self: 
 Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power 
 Of giving joy. Alone, amid the shades, 
 Still in harmonious intercourse they lived 
 The rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart, 
 Or siglul and look'd unutterable things. 
 
 So pass'd their life, a clear united stream, 
 By care unruffled; till, in evil hour, 1190 
 
 The tempest caught them on the tender walk, 
 Heedless how tar, and where its mazes stray'd; 
 
SUMMER. 65 
 
 While, with each ...other blest^ jcreative^loye 
 
 Still bade eternal Eden smile around. 
 
 lYesaging instant fate, her bosom heaved 
 
 Unwonted sighs: and stealing oft a look 
 
 Of the big gloom on Celadon, her eye 
 
 Fell tearful, wetting her disorder'd cheek. 
 
 In vain assuring love, and confidence 
 
 In Heaven, repress'd her fear; it grew, and shook 1200 
 
 Her frame near dissolution. He perceived 
 
 Th' unequal conflict, and as angels look 
 
 On dying saints, his eyes compassion shed, 
 
 With love illumined high. " Fear not," he said, 
 
 " Sweet innocence ! thou stranger to offence, 
 
 And inward storm ! He, who yon skies involves 
 
 In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee 
 
 With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft 
 
 That wastes at midnight, or th' undieaded hour 
 
 Of noon, flies harmless: and that very voice, 1210 
 
 Which thunders terror through the guilty heart, 
 
 With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine. . 
 
 'Tis safety to be near thee, sure, and thus 
 
 To clasp perfection !" From his void embrace, 
 
 Mysterious Heaven ! that moment, to the ground, 
 
 A blacken' d corse, was struck the beauteous maid. 
 
 But who can paint the lover as he stood, 
 
 Pierced by severe amazement, hating life, 
 
 Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of wo 
 
 So, faint resemblance! on the marble tomb, 1220 
 
 The well-dissembled mourner stooping stands, 
 
 For ever silent, and for ever sad. 
 
 As from the face of heaven the shattered clouds 
 Tumultuous rove, th' interminable sky 
 Sublimer swells, and o'er the world expands 
 A purer azure. Through the lighten' d air 
 A higher lustre and a clearer calm, 
 Diffusive, tremble; while, as if in sign 
 Of danger past, a glitt'ring robe of joy, 
 Set off abundant by the yellow ray, 1230 
 
f>6 SUMMER. 
 
 Invests the fields; and Nature smiles revived. 
 
 'Tis beauty all, and grateful song around, 
 Join'd to the low of kine, and numerous bleat 
 Of flocks thick-nibbling through the clover'd vale. 
 And shall the hymn be marr'd by thankless Man, 
 Most-favour'd; who with voice articulate 
 Should lead the chorus of this lower world? 
 Shall he, so soon forgetful of the Hand 
 That hush'd the thunder, and serenes the sky, 
 Extinguished feel that spark the tempest waked? 1240 
 That sense of powers exceeding far his own, 
 Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears ? 
 Cheered by the milder beam, the sprightly youth 
 Speeds to the well-known pool, whose crystal depth 
 A sandy bottom shows. A while he stands 
 Gazing th' inverted landscape, half afraid 
 To meditate the blue profound below; 
 Then plunges headlong down the circling flood. 
 His ebon tresses, and his rosy cheek, 
 Instant emerge; and through th' obedient wave, 1250 
 
 At each short breathing by his lip repelTd, 
 With arms and legs according well, he makes, 
 As humour leads, an easy-winding path; 
 While, from his polish' d sides, a dewy light 
 Effuses on the pleased spectators round. 
 
 This is the purest exercise of health, 
 The kind refresher of the summer-heats; 
 Nor, when cold Winter keens the brightening flood, 
 Would I weak-shivering linger on the brink. 
 Thus life redoubles, and is oft preserved, 1 260 
 
 By the bold swimmer, in the swift illapse 
 Of accident disastrous. Hence the limbs 
 Knit into force; and the same Roman arm, 
 That rose victorious o'er the conquer'd earth, 
 First learn'd, while tender, to subdue the wave. 
 Even, from the body's purity, the mind 
 Receives a secret sympathetic aid. 
 
 Close in the covert of a hazel copse, 
 
SUMMER. 67 
 
 Where winded into pleasing solitudes 
 
 Runs out the rambling dale, young Damon sat, 1270 
 
 Pensive, and pierced with love's delightful pangs. 
 
 There to the stream that down the distant rocks 
 
 Hoarse-murni'ring fell, and plaintive breeze that play'd 
 
 Among the bending willows, falsejy he 
 
 Of Musidora's cruelty complain' d. 
 
 She felt his flame; but deep within her breast, 
 
 In bashful coyness, or in maiden pride, 
 
 The soft return conceal' d: save when it stole 
 
 In side-long glances from her downcast eye, 
 
 Or from her swelling soul in stifled sighs. 1280 
 
 Touch'd by the scene, no stranger to his vows, 
 
 He framed a melting lay, to try her heart; 
 
 And, if an infant passion struggled there, 
 
 To call that passion forth. Thrice happy swain ! 
 
 A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate 
 
 Of mighty monarch s, then decided thine. 
 
 For lo ! conducted by the laughing Loves, 
 
 This cool retreat his Musidora sought: 
 
 Warm in her cheek the sultry season glow'd; 
 
 And, robed in loose array, she came to bathe 1290 
 
 Her fervent limbs in the refreshing stream. 
 
 What shall he do ? In sweet confusion lost, 
 
 And dubious flutterings, he a while remairi'd: 
 
 A pure ingenuous elegance of soul, 
 
 A delicate refinement, known to few, 
 
 Perplex' d his breast, and urged him to retire: 
 
 But love forbade. Ye prudes in virtue, say, 
 
 Say, ye severest, what would you have done? 
 
 Meantime, this fairer nymph than ever blest 
 Arcadian stream, with timid eye around 1300 
 
 The banks surveying, stripp'd her beauteous limbs, 
 To taste the lucid coolness of the flood. 
 Ah then ! not Paris on the piny top 
 Of Ida panted stronger, when aside 
 The rival-goddesses the veil divine 
 Cast unconfined, and gave him all their charms, 
 
68 SUMMER. 
 
 Than, Damon, thou; as from the snowy leg, 
 
 And slender foot, th' inverted silk she drew; 
 
 As the soft touch dissolved the virgin zone; 
 
 And through the parting robe, th 5 alternate breast, 1310 
 
 With youth wild-throbbing, on thy lawless gaze 
 
 In full luxuriance rose. But, desperate youth, 
 
 How durst thou risk the soul-distracting view; 
 
 As from her naked limbs, of glowing white, 
 
 Harmonious swell'd by Nature's finest hand, 
 
 In folds loose-floating fell the fainter lawn: 
 
 And fair exposed she stood, shrunk from herself, 
 
 With fancy blushing, at the doubtful breeze 
 
 Alarm'd, and starting like the fearful fawn ? 
 
 Then to the flood she rush'd; the parted flood 1320 
 
 Its lovely guest with closing waves received; 
 
 And every beauty softening, every grace 
 
 Flushing anew, a mellow lustre shed: 
 
 As shines the lily through the crystal mild; 
 
 Or as the rose amid the morning dew, 
 
 Fresh from Aurora's hand, more sweetly glows. 
 
 While thus she wanton'd, now beneath the wave 
 But ill-conceal'd; and now with streaming locks, 
 That half-embraced her in a humid veil, 
 Rising again, the latent Damon drew 1330 
 
 Such madd'ning draughts of beauty to the soul, 
 As for a while o'erwhelm'd his raptured thought 
 With luxury too daring. Check'd, at last, 
 By love's respectful modesty^ he deem'd 
 The theft profane, if aught profane to love 
 Can e'er be deem'd; and, struggling from the shade, 
 With headlong hurry fled: but first these lines, 
 Traced by his ready pencil, on the bank 
 With trembling hand lie threw: " Bathe on, my fair, 
 Yet unbcheld save by the sacred eye 1340 
 
 Of faithful love: I go to guard thy haunt, 
 To keep from thy recess each vagrant foot, 
 And eacli licentious eye." With wild surprise, 
 As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, 
 
SUMMER, by 
 
 A stupid moment motionless she stood: 
 So stands the statue that enchants the world; 
 So bending tries to veil the matchless boast, 
 The mingled beauties of exulting Greece. 
 
 Recovering, swift she flew to find those robes 
 Which blissful Eden knew not; and, array'd 1350 
 
 In careless haste, th' alarming paper snatch'd. 
 But, when her Damon's well-known hand she saw, 
 Her terrors vanish'd, and a softer train 
 Of mix'd emotions, hard to be described, 
 Her sudden bosom seized; shame void of guilt, 
 The charming blush of innocence, esteem 
 Arid admiration of her lover's flame, 
 By., joiojlesty exalted: even a sense 
 Of self-approving beauty stole across 
 Herjwsy thought. At length, a tender calm 1360 
 
 Hush'd by degrees the tumult of her soul; 
 And'ori the spreading beech, that o'er the stream 
 Incumbent hung, she with the sylvan pen 
 Of rural lovers this confession carved, 
 Which soon her Damon kiss'd with weeping joy: 
 " Dear youth ! sole judge of what these verses mean; 
 By fortune too much favour'd, but by love, 
 Alas ! not favour'd less, be still as now 
 Discreet: the time may come you need not fly." 
 
 The sun has lost his rage: his downward orb 1370 
 
 Shoots nothing now but animating warmth, 
 And vital lustre; that, with various ray, 
 Lights up the clouds, those beauteous robes of heaven, 
 Incessant roll'd into romantic shapes, 
 The dream 01 waking fancy ! Broad below, 
 Cover'd with ripening fruits, and swelling fast 
 Into the pcnect year, the pregnant Earth 
 And all her tribes rejoice. Now the soft hour t 
 Oi walking comes: for him who lonely loves 
 To seek the distant hills, and there converse 13SO 
 
 With Nature; there to harmonise hie heart, 
 And in pathetic song to breathe around 
 
70 SUMMKR. 
 
 The harmony to others. Social friends, 
 
 Attuned to happy unison of soul; 
 
 To whose exalting eye n fairer world, 
 
 Of which the vulgar never had a glimpse, 
 
 Displays its charms; whose minds are richly fraught 
 
 With philosophic stores, superior light; 
 
 And in whose breast, enthusiastic, burns 
 
 Virtue* the sons of interest deem romance; 1390 
 
 Now call'd abroad enjoy the falling day: 
 
 Now to the verdant Portico of woods, 
 
 To Natiirs_vast Lyceum^, forth they walk; 
 
 By that kind School where no proud master reigns^ 
 
 The full free converse of the friendly heart, 
 
 Improving and improved. Now from the world, 
 
 Sacred to sweet retirement, lovers steal, 
 
 And pour their souls in transport, which the Sire 
 
 Of love approving hears, and calls it good. 
 
 Which way, Agja&fla, shall we bend our course ? 1400 
 The choice perplexes. Wherefore should we choose? 
 All is the same with thee. Say, shall we wind 
 Along the streams 1 or walk the smiling mead 1 
 Or court the forest-glades ? or wander wild 
 Among the waving harvests? or ascend, 
 While radiant Summer opens all its pride, 
 tfhy hill, delightful Shene ? Here let us sweep 
 The boundless landscape: now the raptured eye, 
 Exulting swift, to huge Augusta send, 
 Now to the Sister-Hills that skirt her plain, 1410 
 
 To lofty Harrow now, and now to where 
 Majestic Windsor lifts his princely brow. 
 
 In lovely contrast to this glorious view, 
 Calmly magnificent, then will we turn 
 To where the silver Thames first rural grows. 
 There let the feasted eye unwearied stray: 
 Luxurious, there, rove through the pendant woods 
 That nodding hang o'er Harrington's retreat; 
 And, stooping thence to Ham's embowering walks, 
 Beneath whose shades, in spotless peace retired, 1420 
 
SUMMER. 71 
 
 With Her the pleasing partner of his heart, 
 
 The worthy Queensb'ry yet laments his Gay; 
 
 And polish' d Cornbury woos the willing Muse. 
 
 Slow let us trace the matchless Vale of Thames; 
 
 Fair-winding up to wheje the Muses haunt 
 
 In Twit'nam's bowers, and for their Pope implore 
 
 The healing God; to royal Hampton's pile, 
 
 To Clermont's terrass'd height, and Esher's groves; 
 
 Where, in the sweetest solitude, embraced 
 
 By the soft windings of the silent Mole, 1430 
 
 From courts and senates Pelham finds repose. 
 
 Enchanting vale ! beyond whate'er the Muse 
 
 Has of Achaia or Hesperia sung ! 
 
 vale of bliss ! softly-swelling hills I 
 
 On which the Power of Cultivation lies, 
 
 And joys to see the wonders of his toil. 
 
 Heavens! what a goodly prospect spreads around, 
 Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, 
 And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all 
 The stretching landscape into smoke decays ! 1440 
 
 Hajapy Britannia ! where the Queen of Arts, 
 Inspiring vigour, Liberty abroad 
 Walks unconfmed, even to thy farthest cots, 
 And scatters plenty with unsparing hand. 
 
 Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime; 
 Thy streams unfailing in the Summer's drought; 
 Unmatch'd thy guardian-oaks; thy valleys float 
 With golden waves; and on thy mountains flocks 
 Bleat numberless; while, roving round their sides, 
 Bellow the blackening herds in lusty droves. 1450 
 
 Beneath, thy meadows glow, and rise unquell'd 
 Against the mower's scythe. On every hand 
 Thy villas shine. Thy country teems with wealth; 
 And property assures it to the swain, 
 Pleased and unwearied in his guarded toil. 
 
 Fullarejliy_dties^ with the sons of art; 
 And trade and joy, in every busy street, 
 Mingling are heard; even Drudgery himself, 
 
72 SUMMER. 
 
 As at the car he sweats, or dusty hews 
 
 The palace-stone, looks gay. Thy crowded ports, 1460 
 
 Where rising masts an endless prosp. 
 
 With lahour burn, and echo to the shouts 
 
 Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves 
 
 His last adieu, and loosening every sheet, 
 
 Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind. 
 
 Bold> firm, and graceful, are thy generous youth, 
 By hardship sinew'd, and by danger fired, 
 Scattering the nations where they go; and first 
 Or on the listed plain, or stormy seas. 
 .Mild are thy glories, too, as o'er the plans 1470 
 
 Of thriving peace thy thoughtful sires preside; 
 In genius, and substantial learning, high; 
 For every virtue, every worth, renown'd; 
 Sincere,, plain-hearted, hospitable, kind; 
 Yet, like the mustering thunder when provoked, 
 The dread of tyrants, and the sole resource 
 Of those that under grini^rmressicjiCToan^ 
 
 ThyJjonjuiLGIory many! Alfred thine; 
 In whom the splendour of heroic war, 
 And more heroic peace, when govern'd well, 1480 
 
 Combine; whose hallo w'd name the virtues saint, 
 And his own Muses love; the best of kings ! 
 With him thy Edwards and thy Henrys shine, 
 Names dear to Fame; the first who deep impress'd 
 On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms, 
 That awes her genius still. In Statesmen thou, 
 And Patriots, fertile. Thine a steady, Jlore, 
 Who, with a generous though mistaken zeal, 
 Withstood a brutal tyrant's useful raje, 
 Like Cato firm, like Anstides just, 1490 
 
 Like rigid Cincinnati^ nobly poor: 
 A dauntless soul erect, who *ii4M onjkjattj. 
 
 Frugal, and wise, a Walsingham is thine; 
 
 f Uiljdeep, 
 
 And bore thy name in thunder round the world. 
 Then flamed thy spirit high: but who can speak 
 
SUMMER. 73 
 
 The numerous worthies of the Maiden Reign ? 
 
 In Raleigh mark their every glory mix'd; 
 
 Raleigh, the scourge of Spain ! whose breast with all 
 
 The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn'd. 1500 
 
 Nor sunk his vigour, when a coward-reign 
 
 The warrior fetter' d, and at last resign' d, 
 
 To glut the vengeance of a vanquish'd foe. 
 
 Then, active still and unrestrain'd, his mind 
 
 Explored the vast extent of ages past, 
 
 And with his prison-hours enrich'd the world; 
 
 Yet found no times, in all the long research. 
 
 So glorious or so base, as those he proved, 
 
 In which he conquer'd, and in which he bled. 
 
 Nor can the Muse the gallant Sidney pass, 1510 
 
 The plume of war ! with earTy'laurels crown'd, 
 The Lover's myrtle, and the Poet's bay. 
 A Ilainjiden too is thine, illustrious land ! 
 WiseTstrenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul, 
 Who stemm'd the torrent of a do^ynward age 
 To_sjavery prOne, and bade thee rise again, 
 In all thy native pomp of freedom bold. 
 Bright, at his call, thy Age of Men effulged, 
 Of Men on whom late time a kindling eye 
 Shall turn, and tyrants tremble while they read. 1520 
 
 Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew 
 The grave where Russel lies; whose tempered 
 
 blood, 
 
 With calmest cheerfulness for thee resign' d, 
 Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign, 
 Aiming_at_ lawlesspower, thoughjrAejj^jiusuak 
 In loose inglojJQuTjE^Tl With him 
 His friend, the BritislTCassms, fearless bled, 
 Of high determined spirit, roughly brave, 
 By ancient learning to th' enlighten'd love 
 Of ancient freedom warm'd. Fair thy renown 1530 
 
 In awful Sages and in noble Bards, 
 Soon jts~ the light of dawning Science spread 
 Her orient ray, and waked the Muses' song. 
 
74 SUMMER. 
 
 Thine is a I^acon; hapless in his choice, 
 Unfit to standTthe civil storm of state, 
 And through the smooth barbarity of courts, 
 With firm but pliant virtue, forward still 
 To urge his course: him for the studious shade 
 Kind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear. 
 Kxact, and elegant; in one rich suiil, 1540 
 
 PIatfvlke_Stag>Tite, and T.ully join'd. 
 
 Of cloistered monks, and jargon-teaching schools, 
 Led forth the true Philosophy, there long 
 Held in the magic chain of words andjorms^ 
 A&ijIafinJLtions void ; he led her forth, 
 Daughter of Heaven ! that slow-ascending still, 
 Investigating sure the chain of things, 
 With radiant finger points lo Heaven again. 
 
 The generous Ashley thine, the friend of Man, 1550 
 Who scann'd his Nature with a brother's eye, 
 His weakness prompt to shade, to raise his aim, 
 To touch the finer movements of the mind, 
 And with the moral beauty charm the heart. 
 Why need I name thy .goyje. whfls^pious search 
 Amid the dark recesses of his works, 
 The great Creator sought I And why thy Locke, 
 Who made the whole internal world his owiiY 
 Let Newton, pure Intelligence ! whom God 
 To mortals lent, to trace his boundlcssjvorks^ 1560 
 
 From laws sublimely simple, speak thy fame 
 In all philusnphy. Fur lufiy sense, 
 ^/reative)fancy,*and inspection keen 
 Through the deep windings of the' Tinman heart, 
 Is nut 'wild Bhakspere thine and Nature's buust I 
 Is not each great, each amiable Mu.~e 
 Of classic ages in thy Milton m 
 A genius universal as his theni'-; 
 Astonishing as Chaos; as the Lloom 
 Of blowing Eden fair; as Heaven sublime. l.">70 
 
 Nor shall my verse that elder bard forget, 
 
SUMMER. 75 
 
 The gentle Spenser^ Fancy's pleasing son; 
 Who like a copious river pour'd his song 
 O'er all the mazes of enchanted ground: 
 Nor tliee his ancient master, laughing sage, 
 Chaucer, whose native manners-painting verse, 
 Well-moralised, shines through the Gothic cloud 
 Of time and language o'er thy genius thrown. 
 
 May my sang soften as thy daughters I, 
 Britannia, hail ! for beauty is tlieir own, 1580 
 
 The feeling heart, simplicity of life, 
 And elegance, and taste: the faultless form, 
 Shaped by the hand of harmony; the cheek, 
 Where the live crimson, through the native white 
 Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom, 
 And every nameless grace; the parted lip, 
 Like the red rosebud moist with morning-dew, 
 Breathing delight; and, under flowing jet, 
 Or sunny ringlets, or of circling brown, 
 The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast; 1590 
 
 The look resistless, piercing to the soul, 
 And by the soul inform'd, when drest in love 
 She sits high-smiling in the conscious eye. 
 
 Island of bliss ! amid the subject seas, 
 That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up, 
 At once the wonder, terror, and delight, 
 Of distant nations; whose remotest shores 
 Can soon be shaken by thy naval arm; 
 Not to be shook thyself; but all assaults 
 Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave. 1600 
 
 Thou ! by whose almighty nod the scale 
 Of empire rises, or alternate falls, 
 Send forth the saving Virtues round the land, 
 In bright patrol: while Peace, 
 
 The tender-looking Charity, intent 
 On gentle deeds, and shedding tears through smiles; 
 Undaunted Truth, and Dignity of mind; 
 Courage composed, and keen; sound Temperance, 
 Healthful in heart and look; clear Chastity, 
 G 
 
76 SUMMER. 
 
 With blushes reddening as she moves along, 1610 
 
 Disordered at the deep regard she draws; 
 
 Rough Industry; Activity un tired, 
 
 With copious life inform'd and all awake; 
 
 While in the radiant front, superior shines 
 
 Tlmjb firstrpaternal virtue. Public Zeal ^ 
 
 Who throws uYr all an eijual wide survey; 
 
 And, ever^musing^on jihe common .w;eal, 
 
 Still labours glorious with some great design. 
 
 Low walks the sun, and broadens by degrees, 
 Just o'er the vqrge of day. The shifting clouds 1620 
 
 Assembled gay, a richly-gorgeous tram, 
 In all their pomp attend his setting throne. 
 Air, earth, and ocean smile immense. And now, 
 As if his weary chariot sought the bowers 
 Of Amphitrite, and her tending nymphs 
 (So Grecian fable sung), he dips his orb; 
 Now half-immersed; and now a golden curve 
 Gives one bright glance, then total disappears. 
 
 For ever running an enchanted round, 
 Passes the day, deceitful, vain, and void; 1630 
 
 As fleets the vision o'er the formful brain, 
 This moment hurrying wild th' impassion'd soul, 
 The next in nothing lost. 'Tis so to him, 
 The dreamer of this earth, an idle blank: 
 A sight of horror to the cruel wretch, 
 Who all day-long in sordid pleasure rolled, 
 Himself an useless load^has squandered vile^ 
 Upon his scoundrel train, what might have cheer' d 
 A drooping family of modest worth. 
 But to the generous still-improving mind, 
 That gives the lini-L-ss heart t-> sing for joy, 
 I^ifiksingjdnd beneficence arounj, 
 Boastless/as now descends the silent dew; 
 To him the long review of order' d life 
 Is inward rapture, only t 
 
 Confess'd from yonder slow-extinguish'd clouds, 
 All ether softening, sober Evening takes 
 
BUMMER. 77 
 
 Her wonted station in the middle air; 
 
 A thousand shadows at her beck. First this 
 
 She sends on earth; then that of deeper dye 1650 
 
 Steals soft behind; and then a deeper still, 
 
 In circle following circle, gathers round, 
 
 To close the face of things. A fresher gale 
 
 Begins to wave the wood, and stir the stream, 
 
 Sweeping with shadowy gust the fields of corn; 
 
 While the quail clamours for his running mate. 
 
 Wide o'er the thistly lawn, as swells the breeze, 
 
 A whitening shower of vegetable down 
 
 Amusive floats. The kind impartial care 
 
 Of Mature nought disdains: thoughtful to feed 1660 
 
 Her lowest sons, and clothe the coming year, 
 
 From field to field the feather'd seeds she wings. 
 
 His folded flock secure, the shepherd home 
 Hies, merry-hearted: and by turns relieves 
 The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming pail; 
 The beauty whom perhaps his witless heart, 
 Unknowing what the joy-mixt anguish means, 
 Sincerely loves, by that best language shown 
 Of cordial glances, and obliging deeds. 
 Onward they pass, o'er many a panting height, 1670 
 
 And valley sunk, and unfrequented; where 
 At fall of eve the fairy people throng, 
 In various game and revelry, to pass 
 The summer-night, as village-stories tell. 
 But far about they wander from the grave 
 Of him, whom his ungentle fortune urged 
 Against his own sad breast to lift the hand 
 Of impious violence. Thej^Jiely tower 
 Is^lsp shunn'd; whose mournful chambers hold 
 (So night-struck Fancy dreams) the yelling ghost. 1680 
 Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge, 
 The glow-worm lights his gem; and through the dark 
 A moving radiance twinkles. Evening yields 
 The world to Night; not in her winter-robe 
 Of massy Stygian woof, but loose-array'd 
 
78 SUMMER. 
 
 In mantle dun. A faint erroneous ray, 
 Glanced from th' imperfect surfaces of things, 
 Flings half an image on the straining eye; 
 While wavering woods, and villages, and streams, 
 And rocks, and mountain tops, that long retain'd 1690 
 Th' ascending gleam, are all one swimming scene, 
 Uncertain if beheld. Sudden to heaven 
 Thence weary vision turns: where, leading soft 
 The silent hours of love, with purest ray 
 Sweet Venus shines; and from her genial rise, 
 When daylight sickens till it springs afresh, 
 Unrivall'd reigns, the fairest lamp of night. 
 As thus th 7 effulgence tremulous I drink, 
 With cherish' d gaze, the lambent lightnings shoot 
 Across the sky; or horizontal dart 1700 
 
 In wondrous shapes; by fearful murmuring crowds 
 Portentous deem'd. Amid the radiant orbs, 
 That more than deck, that animate the sky, 
 The life-infusing suns of other worlds; 
 Lo ! from the dread immensity of space 
 Returning, with accelerated course, 
 The rushing comet to the sun descends; 
 And as he sinks below the shading earth, 
 With awful train projected o'er the heavens, 
 The guilty nations tremble. But, above 1710 
 
 Those superstitious horrors that enslave 
 The fond sequacious herd, to mystic faith 
 And blind amazement prone, th' enlighten' d few, 
 
 dlike minds philosophy exalts, 
 The glorious stranger hail. They feel a joy 
 I>ivinely great; they in their powers exult, 
 That wondrous force of thought, which mounting 
 
 spurns 
 
 Tin's dusky spot, and measures all the sky; 
 While, from his far excursion through the wilds 
 Of barren ether, faithful to his time, 1720 
 
 They see the blazing wonder rise anew, 
 In seeming terror clad, but kindly bent 
 
SUMMER. 79 
 
 To work. the. will of all-sustaining Love; 
 From his huge vapoury train perhaps to shake 
 Reviving moisture on the numerous orbs, 
 Through which his long ellipsis winds; perhaps 
 To lend new fuel to declining suns, 
 To light up worlds, and feed th' eternal fire. 
 
 With thee, serene Philosophy, with thee, 
 And thy bright garland, let me crown my song ! ) 1730 
 Effusive source of (evidence/ jam! truth ! / 
 
 A lustre shedding o'er th' ennobled mind; / 
 
 Stronger than summer-noon; and pure as that, > 
 Whose mild vibrations soothe the parted soul, 
 New to the dawning of celestial day. 
 Hence-, .through her nourish' d powers, enlarged by 
 
 thee, 
 
 She springs aloft, with elevated pride, 
 Above the tangling mass of low desires, 
 That bind the fluttering crowd; and, angel- win g'd, 
 The heights of science and of virtue gains, 1740 
 
 Where all is calm and clear: with nature round, 
 Of in the starry regions, or th' abyss, 
 To_Reason's and to. Eaucy's,ey.e_. displayed : 
 The first up-tracing, from the dreary void, 
 The chain of causes and effects to Him, 
 The world-producing Essence ! who alone 
 Possesses being; while the last receives 
 The whole magnificence of heaven and earth, 
 And every beauty, delicate or bold, 
 Obvious or more remote, with livelier sense, 1750 
 
 Diffusive painted on the rapid mind. 
 Tutor' d by thee, hence Poetry exalts 
 Her^yoice to ages; and informs the page 
 With music, image, sentiment, and thought, 
 Never to die ! the treasure of mankind ! 
 Their highest honour, and their truest joy ! 
 
 Without thee, what were unenlighten'd Man ? 
 A savage roaming through the woods and wilds.,. 
 In quest of prey; and with th' unfashion'd fur 
 
80 SUMMER. 
 
 Rough clad; devoid of every finer art, 17CO 
 
 And elegance of life. Nor happiness 
 
 Domestic, inix'd of temWness and care, 
 
 Noj* moral excellence, nor social bliss, 
 
 Nor guardian law were his; nor various skill 
 
 To turn the furrow, or to guide the tool 
 
 Mechanic; nor the heaven-conducted prow 
 
 Of navigation bold, that fearless braves 
 
 The" "burning line, or dares the wintry pole; 
 
 Mother severe of infinite delights! 
 
 Nothing, save rapine, indolence, and guile, 1770 
 
 And woes on woes, a still revolving train ! 
 
 Whose horrid circle had made human life 
 
 Than non-existence worse: but taught by thee, 
 
 Ours are the plans of policy, and peace; 
 
 To live like brothers, and conjunctive all- 
 
 Embellish life. While thus laborious crowds 
 
 Ply the tough oar, Pli i 1 nsophg : directs 
 
 The ruling helm; or like the liberal breath 
 
 Of potent Heaven, invisible, the sail 
 
 Swells out, and bears th' inferior world along. 1780 
 
 Nor to this evanescent speck of earth 
 Poorly confined, the radiant tracks on high 
 Are her exalted range; intent to gaze 
 Creation through; and, from that full complex 
 Of never-ending wonders, to conceive. 
 Of the Sole Being right, who spoke thejvord, 
 And Nature moved, complete. With inward view, 
 Thence on th' ideal kingdom swift she turns 
 Her eye: and instant, at her powerful glance, 
 Th' obedient phantoins_vanish or ajjp^ar; 1790 
 
 Compounil^clivlcteT^nd into order shift, 
 Each to his rank, from plain perception up 
 To the fair forms of Fancy's Hoc-ting train: 
 To reason then, deducing truth from truth: 
 And notion quite abstract; where first begins 
 Tin.' world (.f spirits, action all, and life 
 Unfetter' d, and unmix' d. But here the cloud, 
 
SUMMER. 81 
 
 So wills Eternal Providence, sits deep. 
 
 Enough for us to know that this dark state, 
 
 In wayward passions lost, and vain pursuits, \ 1800 
 
 This Infancy of Being, cannot prove 
 
 The final issue of the works of God, 
 
 By boundless Love, and perfect Wisdom form'd, 
 
 And ever rising with the rising mind. 
 
ATJTUMN. 
 
 The subject proposed. Addressed to Mr Onslow. A prospect of the fields 
 ready for harvest. Reflections in praise of industry raised by that view. 
 Reaping. A tale relative to it. A harvest-storm. -Shooting and hunt- 
 ing, their barbarity. A ludicrous account of fox-hunting. A view of 
 aiTOrcTiardr "Wall -fruit A vineyard. A description of fogs, frequent in 
 the latter part of Autumn : whence a digression, inquiring into the rise 
 of fountains and rivers. Birds of season considered, that now shift their 
 habitation. The prodigious number of them that cover the Northern 
 and Western Isles of Scotland. Hence a view of the country. A pros- 
 pect of the discoloured, fading woods. After a gentle dusky day, moon- 
 light. Autumnal meteors. Morning; to which succeeds a calm, pure, 
 sunshiny day, such as usually shuts up the season. The harvest being 
 gathered in, the country dissolved in joy. The whole concludes with a 
 panegyric on a philosophical count 
 
 CROWN'D with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, 
 While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, 
 Comes jovial on, the Jjtogjfeifigft once more, 
 Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the Wintry frost 
 Nitrous prepared; the various-blossom'd Spring 
 Put in white promise forth; and Summer-suns 
 Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view, 
 Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme. 
 Onslow ! the Muse, ambitious of thy name, 
 To grace, inspire, and dignify her song, 10 
 
 Would from the Public Voice thy gentle ear 
 A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows, 
 The patriot virtuea. that distend thy thought, 
 SpreacTon thy front, and in thy bosom glow: 
 While listening senates hang upon thy tongue, 
 
84 AUTUMA'. 
 
 Devolving tlirough the maze of eloquence 
 
 A roHof jK-ii'ils. sweeter than her song. 
 
 Uut she t.io pants for public virtue; she, 
 
 Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will, 
 
 "Whene'er her country rushes on her heart, 20 
 
 Assumes. a bolder note, and fondly tries 
 
 To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame* 
 
 When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days, 
 And Libra weighs in equal scales the year; 
 From heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook 
 Of parting Summer, a serener blue, 
 With golden light enhven'd, wide invests 
 The happy world. Attemper' <I suns arise, 
 Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds 
 A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below 30 
 
 Extensive harvests hang the heavy head. 
 Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale 
 Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain: 
 A calm of plenty ! till the ruffled air 
 Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow. 
 Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky; 
 The clouds fly different: and the sudden sun 
 By fits effulgent gilds th' illumined field, 
 And black by fits the shadows sweep along. 
 A gaily-chequer'd heart-expanding view, 40 
 
 Far as the circling eye can shoot around, 
 .Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn. 
 
 These are thy blessings, Inlustry ! rough power ! 
 Whom labour still attend?, and sweat, and pain; 
 Yet the kind source_ofjeyery^gentle art, 
 And all the soft civility of life: 
 Raiser of human kind ! hy Nature cast, 
 Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods 
 And wilds, to rude inclement elements; 
 With various se^ds^pf artdeepin the niind 50 
 
 Implanted, and profusely'pour'd around 
 Materials infinite: hut idle all. 
 Stiil unexerted, in th' unconscious breast, 
 
AUTUMN. 85 
 
 Slept the lethargic powers; corruption still, 
 
 Voracious, swallow' d what the liberal hand 
 
 Of bounty scattered o'er the savage year; 
 
 And still the sad barbarian, roving, mix'd 
 
 With beasts of prey; or for his acorn-meal 
 
 Fought the fierce tusky boar; a shiv'ring wretch ! 
 
 Aghast, and comfortless, when the bleak north, 60 
 
 With Winter charged, let the mix'd tempest fly, 
 
 Hail, rain, and snow, and bitter-breathing frost: 
 
 Then to the shelter of the hut he fled; 
 
 And the wild season, sordid, pined away, 
 
 For home he had not; home is the resort 
 
 Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where. 
 
 Supporting and supported, polish' d friends 
 
 And dear relations mingle into bliss. 
 
 But this the rugged savage never felt, 
 
 Even desolate in crowds; and thus his days 70 
 
 Koll'd heavy, dark, and unenjoy'd along: 
 
 A waste of time ! till Industry approach'd, 
 
 AniTroused him from his miserable sloth: 
 
 His faculties unfolded; pointed out, 
 
 Whej:e, lavish 'Nature the directing hand 
 
 Of Art demanded: show'd him how to raise 
 
 His feeble force by the mechanic powers; 
 
 To~(Tig the mineral from the vaulted earth; 
 
 On what to turn the piercing rage of fire; 
 
 On what the torrent, and the gathered blast; 80 
 
 Gave the tall ancient forest to his axe; 
 
 Taught him to chip the wood, and hew the stone. 
 
 Till by degrees the finish'd fabric rose; 
 
 Tore from his limbs the blood-polluted fur, 
 
 And wrapt them in the woolly vestment warm, 
 
 Or bright in glossy silk, and flowing lawn; 
 
 With wholesome viands fill'd his table; poured 
 
 The generous glass around, inspired to wake 
 
 The life-refining soul of decent wit: 
 
 Nor'stopp'd at barren bare .necessity; 90 
 
 But still advancing bolder, led him on 
 
86 AUTUMN. 
 
 
 
 To pomp, to pleasure, elegance, and grace; 
 And, breathing high ambition through his soul, 
 Set science, wisdom, glory, in his view, 
 And hade him be the Lord of all below. 
 
 Then gath'ring men their nat'ral powers combined, 
 And form'd a Public; to the general good 
 Submitting, aiming and conducting all. 
 For this the Patriot-Council met, the full, 
 The free, and fairly represented Whole; 100 
 
 For this they plann'd the holy guardian laws, 
 Distinguish' d orders, animated arts, 
 And with joint force Oppression chaining, set 
 Imperial Justice at the helm; yet still 
 To them accountable: nor slavish dream'd 
 That toiling millions must resign their weal, 
 And all the honey of their search, to such 
 ..As for themselves alone themselves have raised. 
 
 Hence every form of cultivated life 
 
 In order set, protected, and inspired, 110 
 
 Into perfection wrought. Unjting all, 
 Society grew numerous,, high, polite, 
 And happy. Nurse of art ! the city rear'd 
 In beauteous pride her tower-encircled head; 
 And, stretching street on street, by thousands drew 
 From twining woody haunts, or the tough yew 
 To bows strong straining, her aspiring sons. 
 Then Commerce, brought into the public walk 
 The busy merchant; the big warehouse built; 
 RaisecTthe stromfcrane; choked up the loaded street 120 
 and thy stream, Thames, 
 
 Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods ! 
 Chose for his grand resort. On either hand, 
 Like a long wintry forest, groves of masts 
 Shot up their spires; the bellying sheet between 
 Possessed the breezy void ; the sooty hulk 
 Steer'd sluggish on; the splendid barge along 
 Row'd, regular, to harmony; around, 
 The boat light-skimming, stretch' J its oary wing 
 
AUTUMN. 87 
 
 "While deep the various voice of fervent toil 130 
 
 From bank to bank increased; whence ribb'd with oak, 
 To bear the British Thunder, black, and bold, 
 The roaring vessel rush'd into the main. 
 
 Then too the pillar'd dome, magnific, heaved 
 Its ample roof; and Luxury within 
 Pour'd out her glittering stores: the canvas smooth, 
 With glowing life protuberant, to the view 
 Embodied rose; the statue seem'd to breathe, 
 And soften into flesh, beneath the touch 
 Of forming art, imagination-flushed. 140 
 
 All is the gift of Industry; whatever 
 Exalts, embellishes, and renders life 
 Delightful. Pensive Winter cheer'd by him 
 Sits at the social fire, and happy hears 
 Th' excluded tempest idly rave along; 
 His harden'd fingers deck the gaudy Spring; 
 Without him Summer were an arid waste; 
 Nor to th' Autumnal months could thus transmit 
 Those full, mature, immeasurable stores, 
 That, waving round, recall my wandering song. 150 
 
 Soon as the morning trembles o'er the sky, 
 And, unperceived, unfolds the spreading day; 
 Before the ripen'd field the reapers stand, 
 In fair arrray; each by the lass he loves, 
 To bear the rougher part, and mitigate 
 By nameless gentle offices her toil. 
 At once they stoop, and swell the lusty sheaves; 
 While through their cheerful band, the rural talk, 
 The rural scandal, and the rural jest, 
 Fly harmless, to deceive the tedious time, 160 
 
 And steal unfelt the sultry hours away. 
 Behind the master walks, builds up the shocks; 
 And, conscious, glancing oft on every side 
 His sated eye, feels his heart heave with joy. 
 The gleaners spread around, and here and there, 
 Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick. 
 Be not too narrow, husbandmen; but fling 
 
88 AUTUMN. 
 
 From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth, 
 
 The lib'ral handful. Think, oh grateful think ! 
 
 How good the God of Harvest is to you; 170 
 
 Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields; 
 
 While these unhappy partners of your kind 
 
 Wide-hover round you, like the fowls of heaven, 
 
 And ask their humble dole. The various turns 
 
 Of fortune ponder; that your sons may want 
 
 What now, with hard reluctance, faint, ye give. 
 
 The lovely young Lavinia once had friends, 
 And Fortune smiled, deceitful, on her birth; 
 For, in her helpless years deprived of all, 
 Of every stay, save innocence and Heaven, 180 
 
 She, with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, 
 And poor, lived in a cottage, far retired 
 Among the windings of a woody vale; 
 By solitude and deep-surrounding shades, 
 But more by bashful modesty conceal'd. 
 Together thus they shunn'd the cruel scorn 
 Which virtue, sunk to poverty, would meet 
 From giddy passion and low-minded pride: 
 Almost on Nature's common bounty fed; 
 Like the gay birds that sung them to repose, 190 
 
 Content, and careless of to-morrow's fare. 
 
 Her form was fresher than the morning rose, 
 When the dew wets its leaves; unstain'd and pure, 
 As is the lily, or the mountain snow. 
 The modest virtues mingled in her eyes, 
 Still on the ground dejected, darting all 
 Their humid beams into the blooming flowers: 
 Or when the mournful tale her mother told, 
 Of what her faithless fortune promised once, 
 Thrill'd in her thought, they, like the dewy star 200 
 
 Of evening, shone in tears. Ajiativo grace 
 Sat fair-proportion'd on her p<li>h\l limbs, 
 Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire ; 
 Beyond the pomp of divss; f >r lovrl; 
 Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, 
 
AUTUMN. 89 
 
 But is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most. 
 
 Thoughtless of beauty, she was beauty's self, 
 
 Recluse amid the close-embowering woods. 
 
 As in the hollow breast of Apennine, 
 
 Beneath the shelter of encircling hills, 210 
 
 A myrtle rises, far from human eye, 
 
 And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild; 
 
 So flourish' d, blooming, and unseen by all, 
 
 The sweet Lavinia; till, at length, compelled 
 
 By strong Necessity's supreme command, 
 
 With smiling patience in her looks, she went 
 
 To glean Palemon's fields. The pride of swains 
 
 Palemon was, the gen'rous and the rich; 
 
 Who led the rural life in all its joy 
 
 AnjI elegance^ such as Arcadian song 220 
 
 Transmits from ancient, uncorrupted times; 
 
 When tyrant custom had not shackled Man, 
 
 But free to follow Nature was the mode. 
 
 He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes 
 
 Amusing, chanced beside his reaper-train 
 
 To walk, when poor Lavinia drew his eye; 
 
 Unconscious of her power, and turning quick 
 
 With unaffected blushes from his gaze: 
 
 He saw her charming, but he saw not half 
 
 The charms her downcast modesty conceal' d. 230 
 
 That very moment love and chaste desire 
 
 Sprung in his bosom, to himself imknowjj, 
 
 For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh, 
 
 Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn, 
 
 Should his heart own a gleaner in the field; 
 
 And thus in secret to his soul he sigh'd: 
 
 "What pity! that so delicate a form, 
 By beauty kindled, where enlivening sense 
 And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell, 
 Should be devoted to the rude embrace 240 
 
 Of some indecent clown ! She looks, methinks, 
 Of old Acasto's line; and to my mind 
 Recalls that patron of my happy life, 
 
90 AUTUMN. 
 
 From whom my lib'ral fortune took its rise; 
 
 Now to the dust gone down; his houses, lands, 
 
 And once fair-spreading family, dissolved. 
 
 'Tis said that in some lone obscure retreat, 
 
 Urged by remembrance sad, and decent pride, 
 
 Far from those scenes which knew their better days, 
 
 His aged widow and his daughter live, 250 
 
 Whom yet my fruitless search could never find, 
 
 Romantic wish ! would this the daughter were !' 
 
 When, strict inquiring, from herself he found 
 She was the same, the daughter of his friend, 
 Of bountiful Acasto, who can speak 
 The mingled passions that surprised his heart, 
 And through his nerves in shiv'ring transport ran I 
 Then blazed his smother'd flame, avow'd and bold; 
 And as he viewed her, ardent, o'er and o'er, 
 Love, gratitude, and pity wept at once. 260 
 
 Confused, and frighten'd at his sudden tears, 
 Her rising beauties flush'd a higher bloom, 
 As thus Palemon, passionate and just, 
 Pour'd out the pious rapture of his soul : 
 
 " And art thou then Acasto's dear remains 1 
 She whom my restless gratitude has sought 
 So long in vain 1 heavens ! the very same, 
 The sofcened image of my noble friend, 
 Alive his every look, his every feature, 
 More elegantly touch' d. Sweeter than Spring ! 270 
 
 Thou sole-surviving blossom from the root 
 That nourish'd up my fortune ! say, ah where, 
 In what sequester'd desert, hast thou drawn 
 The kindest aspect of delighted Heaven ? 
 Into such beauty spread, and blown so fair; 
 Though poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, 
 Beat keen, and heavy, on thy tender years ? 
 let me now, into a richer soil, 
 Transplant thee safe ! where vernal suns and show'rs 
 Difmse their warmest, largest influence; 280 
 
 And of my garden be the pride and joy ! 
 
AUTUMN. 91 
 
 111 it befits thee, oh, it ill befits 
 
 Acasto's daughter, his whose open stores, 
 
 Though vast, were little to his ampler heart, 
 
 The father of a country, thus to pick 
 
 The very refuse of those harvest-fields, 
 
 Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy; 
 
 Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, 
 
 But ill applied to such a rugged task; 
 
 The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine; 290 
 
 If to the various blessings which thy house 
 
 Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss, 
 
 That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee !" 
 
 Here ceased the youth: yet still his speaking eye 
 Expressed the sacred triumph of his soul, 
 With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love, 
 Above the vulgar joy divinely raised. 
 Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm 
 Of goodness irresistible, and all 
 
 In sweet disorder lost, she blush' d consent. 300 
 
 The news immediate to her mother brought, 
 While, pierced with anxious thought, she pined away 
 The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate; 
 Amazed, and scarce believing what she heard, 
 Joy seized her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam 
 Of setting life shone on her evening hours: 
 Not less enraptured than the happy pair; 
 Who flourished long in tender bliss, and rear'd 
 A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves, 
 And good, the grace of all the country round. 310 
 
 Defeating oft the labours of the year, 
 The sultry South collects a potent blast. 
 At first the groves are scarcely seen to stir 
 Their trembling tops; and a still murmur runs 
 Along the soft-inclining fields of corn. 
 But as th' aerial tempest fuller swells, 
 And in one mighty stream, invisible, 
 Immense, the whole excited atmosphere 
 Impetuous rushes o'er the sounding world; 
 H 
 
92 AUTUMN. 
 
 Strain'd to the root, the stooping forest pours 320 
 
 A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves. 
 
 High-beat, the circling mountains eddy in, 
 
 From the bare wild, the dissipated storm, 
 
 And send it in a torrent down the vale. 
 
 Exposed, and naked, to its utmost rage, 
 
 Through all the sea of harvest rolling round, 
 
 The billowy plain floats wide; nor can evade, 
 
 Though pliant to the blast, its seizing force: 
 
 Or whirl'd in ah*, or into vacant chaff 
 
 Shook waste. And sometimes, too, a burst of rain, 330 
 
 Swept from the black horizon, broad, descends 
 
 In one continuous flood. Still over head 
 
 The mingling tempest weaves its gloom, and still 
 
 The deluge deepens; till the fields around 
 
 Lie sunk, and flatted, in the sordid wave. 
 
 Sudden, the ditches swell; the meadows swim. 
 
 Red, from the hills, innumerable streams 
 
 Tumultuous roar; and high above its banks 
 
 The river lift; before whose rushing tide, 
 
 Herds, flocks, and harvests, cottages, and swains, 340 
 
 Roll mingled down; all that the winds had spared 
 
 In one wild moment ruin'd; the big hopes 
 
 And well-earn'd treasures of the painful year. 
 
 Fled to some eminence, the husbandman 
 Helpless beholds the miserable wreck 
 Driving along: his drowning ox at once 
 Descending, with his labours scattered round, 
 He sees; and instant o'er his shivering thought 
 Comes Winter unprovided, and a train 
 Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, then, 350 
 
 Be mindful of the rough laborious hand, 
 That sinks you soft in elegance and easr; 
 Be mindful of those limbs in russet clad, 
 Whose toil to yours is warmth, and graceful pride; 
 And oh ! be mindful of that sparing board 
 Which covers yours with luxury profuse, 
 Makes your glass sparkle, and your sense rejoice; 
 
A U T U M N . 
 Sr.H . 
 
AUTUMN. 93 
 
 Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains 
 And all-involving winds have swept away. 
 
 Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy, 360 
 
 The gun fast-thundering, and the winded horn, 
 Would tempt the Muse to sing the rural game: 
 How, in his mid-career, the spaniel struck, 
 Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose, 
 Outstretch'd, and finely sensible, draws full, 
 Fearful, and cautious, on the latent prey; 
 As in the sun the curding covey bask 
 Their varied plumes, and, watchful every way, 
 Through the rough stubble turn the secret eye. 
 Caught in the meshy snare, in vain they beat 370 
 
 Then: idle wings, entangled more and more: 
 Nor on the surges of the boundless air, 
 Though borne triumphant, are they safe; the gun 
 Glanced just, and sudden, from the fowler's eye, 
 O'ertakes their sounding pinions; and again, 
 Immediate, brings them from the tow'ring wing, 
 Dead to the ground; or drives them wide-dispersed, 
 Wounded, and wheeling various, down the wind. 
 
 These are not subjects for the peaceful Muse, 
 Nor will she stain with such her spotless song; 380 
 
 Then most delighted, when she socialsees 
 The whole mix'.d animal-creation round 
 Alive^ and happy, 'Tis not joy to her, 
 This falsely-cheerful, barbarous game of death; 
 This rage of pleasure, which the restless youth 
 Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn; 
 When beasts of prey retire, that all night long, 
 Urged by necessity, had ranged the dark, 
 As If their conscious ravage shunn'd the light, 
 Ashamed. Not so the steady tyrant man, 390 
 
 Who, with the thoughtless insolence of power 
 Inflamed, beyond the most infuriate wrath 
 Of the worst monster that e'er roam'd the waste, 
 For sport alone pursues the cruel chase, 
 Amid the beamings of the gentle days. 
 
94 AUTUMN. 
 
 Upbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage, 
 
 For hunger kindles yon, and lawless want; 
 
 But lavish fed, in Nature's bounty roll'd, 
 
 To joy at anguish, and delight in blood, 
 
 Is what your horrid bosoms never knew. 400 
 
 Poor is the triumph o'er the timid Jiare, 
 /-Scared from the corn, and now To some lone seat 
 Retired: the rushy fen; the ragged furze, 
 Stretch'd o'er the stony heath: the stubble chapt; 
 The thistly lawn; the thick-entangled broom; 
 Of the same friendly hue, the wither'd fern; 
 ^he fallow ground laid open to the sun, 
 Concoctive; and the nodding sandy bank, 
 Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain brook. 
 Vain is her best precaution; though she sits 410 
 
 Conceal'd, with folded ears; unsleeping eyes, 
 By Nature raised to take th' horizon in; 
 And head couch'd close betwixt her hairy feet, 
 In act to spring away. The scented dew 
 Betrays her early labyrinth; and deep, 
 In scattered sullen openings, far behind, 
 With every breeze she hears the coming storm. 
 But nearer, and more frequent, as it loads 
 The sighing gale, she springs amazed, and all 
 The savage soul of game is up at once: 420 
 
 The pack full-opening, various; the shrill horn 
 Resounded from the hills; the neighing steed, 
 Wild for the chase; and the loud hunter's shout; 
 O'er a weak, harmless, flying creature, all 
 ^Mix'd in mad tumult, and discordant joy. 
 
 hcj&agr too, singled from the herd, where long 
 He ranged, ihe branching monarch of the shades, 
 Before the tempest drives. At first, in speed, 
 He, sprightly, puts his faith; and roused by fear, 
 Gives all nis swift aerial soul to flight; 430 
 
 Against the breeze he darts, that way the more 
 To leave the lessening murderous cry behind: 
 Deception short ! though fleeter than the winds 
 
AUTUMN. 95 
 
 Blown o'er the keen-air'd mountain by the north, 
 
 He bursts the thickets, glances through the glades, 
 
 And plunges deep into the wildest wood; 
 
 If slow, yet sure, adhesive to the track 
 
 Hot-steaming, up behind him come again 
 
 Th' inhuman rout, and from the shady depth 
 
 Expel him, circling through his every shift. 440 
 
 He sweeps the forest oft; and, sobbing, sees 
 
 The glades, mild opening to the golden day; 
 
 Where in kind contest with his butting friends 
 
 He wont to struggle, or his loves enjoy. 
 
 Oft in the full-descending flood he tries 
 
 To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides: 
 
 Oft seeks the herd; the watchful herd, alarm'd, 
 
 With selfish care avoid a brother's wo. 
 
 What shall he do ? His once so vivid nerves, 
 
 So full of buoyant spirit, now no more 450 
 
 Inspire the course; but fainting breathless toil, 
 
 Sick, seizes on his heart: he stands at bay; 
 
 And puts his last weak refuge in despair. 
 
 The big round tears run down his dappled face; 
 
 He groans in anguish; while the growling pack, 
 
 Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest, 
 
 And mark his beauteous chequer' d sides with gore. 
 
 Of this enough. But if the sylvan youth, 
 WEoseTerverit blood boils into violence, 
 Must have the chase, behold, despising flight, 460 
 
 The roused-up lion, resolute and slow, 
 Advancing full on the protended spear, 
 And coward-band, that circling wheel aloof. 
 Slunk from the cavern, and the troubled wood, 
 See the grim wolf; on him his shaggy foe 
 Vindictive fix, and let the ruffian die: 
 Or, growling horrid, as the brindled boar 
 Grins fell destruction, to the monster's heart 
 Let the dart lighten from the nervous arm. 
 
 These Britain knows not; give, ye Britons, then 470 
 Your sportive fury, pitiless, to pour 
 
 J 
 
96 AUTUMN. 
 
 Loose on the nightly robber of the fold: 
 Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearth'd, 
 Let all the thunder of the chase pursue. 
 Throw the broad ditch behind you; o'er the hedge 
 High-bound, resistless; nor the deep morass 
 Refuse, but through the shaking wilderness 
 Pick your nice way; into the perilous flood 
 Bear fearless, of the raging instinct full; 
 And as you ride the torrent, to the banks 480 
 
 Your triumph sound sonorous, running round, 
 From rock to rock, in circling echoes tost; 
 Then scale the mountains to their woody tops; 
 Rush down the dangerous steep; and o'er the lawn, 
 In fancy swallowing up the space between, 
 Pour all your speed into the rapid game. 
 For happy he, who tops the wheeling chase; 
 Has every maze evolved, and every guile 
 Disclosed; who knows the merits of the pack; 
 , Who saw the villain seized, and dying hard, 490 
 
 Without complaint, though by a hundred mouths 
 Relentless torn: glorious he, beyond 
 His daring peers ! when the retreating horn 
 Calls them to ghostly halls of grey renown, 
 With woodland honours graced ; the fox's fur, 
 Depending decent from the roof; and spread 
 Round the drear walls, with antic figures fierce, 
 The stag's large front: he then is loudest heard, 
 When the night staggers with severer toils, 
 With feats Thessalian Centaurs never knew, 500 
 
 And their repeated wonders shake the dome. 
 
 But first the fuel'd chimney blazes wide; 
 The tankards foam; and the strong table groans 
 Beneath the smoking sirloin, stretch'd iumu'iise 
 From side to side; in which, with desperate knife, 
 They deep incision make, and talk the while 
 Of England's glory, ne'er to be defaced, 
 While hence they borrow vigour: or amain 
 Into the pasty plunged, at intervals, 
 
-AUTUMN. 97 
 
 If stomach keen can intervals allow, 510 
 
 Relating all the glories of the chase. 
 
 Then sated Hunger bids his brother Thirst 
 
 Produce the mighty bowl; the mighty bowl, 
 
 Swell'd high with fiery juice, steams liberal round, 
 
 A potent gale, delicious, as the breath 
 
 Of Maia to the love-sick shepherdess, 
 
 On violets diffused, while soft she hears 
 
 Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. 
 
 Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn, 
 
 Mature and perfect, from his dark retreat 520 
 
 Of thirty years; and now his honest front 
 
 Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid 
 
 Even with the vineyard's best produce to vie. 
 
 To cheat the thirsty moments, Whist awhile 
 
 Walks his dull round, beneath a cloud of smoke, 
 
 Wreath'd, fragrant, from the pipe: or the quick dice, 
 
 In thunder leaping from the box, awake 
 
 The sounding gammon: while romp-loving miss 
 
 Is haul'd about, in gallantry robust. 
 
 At last these puling idlenesses laid 530 
 
 Aside, frequent and full, the dry divan 
 Close in firm circle; and set, ardent, in 
 For serious drinking. Nor evasion sly, 
 Nor sober shift, is to the puking wretch 
 Indulged apart; but earnest, brimming bowls 
 Lave every soul, the table floating round, 
 And pavement, faithless to the fuddled foot. 
 Thus as they swim in mutual swill, the talk, 
 Vociferous at once from twenty tongues, 
 Reels fast from theme to theme; from horses, hounds, 540 
 To church or mistress, politics or ghost, 
 In endless mazes, intricate, perplex'd. 
 
 Meantime, with sudden interruption, loud, 
 Th' impatient catch bursts from the joyous heart; 
 That moment touch'd is every kindred soul; 
 And, opening in a full-mouth'd cry of joy, 
 The laugh the slap, the jocund curse go round; 
 
98 AUTUMN. 
 
 While, from their slumbers shook, the kennel'd hounds 
 
 Mix in the music of the day again. 
 
 As when the tempest, that has vex'd the deep 550 
 
 The dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls: 
 
 So gradual sinks then* mirth. Their feeble tongues. 
 
 Unable to take up the cumbrous word, 
 
 Lie quite dissolved. Before their maudlin eyes, 
 
 Seen dim, &nd blue, the double tapers dance, 
 
 Like the sun wading through the misty sky. 
 
 Then, sliding soft, they drop. Confused above, 
 
 Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazetteers, 
 
 As if the table even itself was drunk, 
 
 Lie a wet broken scene; and wide, below, 5GO 
 
 Is heap'd the social slaughter: where astride 
 
 The lubber Power in filthy triumph sits, 
 
 Slumberous, inclining still from side to side, 
 
 And steeps them drench'd in potent sleep till morn. 
 
 Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch, 
 
 Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink, 
 
 Outlives them all; and from his buried flock 
 
 Retiring, full of rumination sad, 
 
 Laments the weakness of these latter times. 
 
 But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport 570 
 
 Is hurried wild, let not such horrid joy 
 E'er stain the bosom of the British Fair. 
 Far be the spirit of the chase from them ! 
 Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill; 
 To spring the fence, to rein the prancing steed; 
 The cap, the whip, the masculine attire, 
 In which they roughen to the sense, and all 
 The winning softness of their sex is lost. 
 In, them 'tis graceful to dissolve at wo; 
 With every motion, every word, to wave 6SO 
 
 Quick o'er the kindling cheek the ready blush; 
 Ami from the smallest violence to shrink 
 Unequal, then the loveliest in their fears; 
 And by this silent adulation, soft, 
 To their protection more engaging Man. 
 
AUTUMN. 99 
 
 may their eyes no miserable sight, 
 Save weeping lovers, see! a nobler game, 
 Through Love's enchanting wiles pursued, yet fled, 
 In chase ambiguous. May their tender limbs 
 Float in, the loose simplicity of dress ! 590 
 
 And, fashion'd all to harmony, alone 
 Know they to seize the captivated soul, 
 In rapture warbled from Icve-breathing lips; 
 To teach the lute to languish; with smooth step, 
 Disclosing motion in its every charm, 
 To swim along, and swell the mazy dance; 
 Tojtrain the foliage o'er the snowy lawn; 
 To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page; 
 To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, 
 And heighten Nature's dainties; in their race 600 
 
 To rear their graces into second life; 
 To give society its highest taste; 
 Well-order'd Home, Man's best delight to make; 
 And by submissive wisdom, modest skill 
 With every gentle care-eluding art, 
 To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, 
 And sweeten all the toils of human life: 
 This be the female dignity, and praise. / 
 
 Ye swains, now hasten to the hazel-bank; 
 Where, down yon dale, the wildly- winding brook 610 
 
 Falls hoarse from steep to steep. In close array, 
 Fit for the thickets and the tangling shrub, 
 Ye virgins, come. For you their latest song 
 The woodlands raise; the clustering nuts for you 
 The lover finds amid the secret shade; 
 And where they burnish on the topmost bough, 
 With active vigour crushes down the tree; 
 Or shakes them ripe from the resigning husk, 
 A glossy shower, and of an ardent brown, 
 As are the ringlets of Melinda's hair: 620 
 
 Melinda! form'd with every grace complete, 
 YeTtliese neglecting, above beauty wise, 
 And far transcending such a vulgar praise. 
 
100 AUTUMN. 
 
 Hence from the busy, joy-resounding fields, 
 In cheerful error, let us tread the maze 
 Of Autumn, unconfined; and taste, revived, 
 The breath of orchard big with bending fruit. 
 Obedient to the breeze and beating ray, 
 From the deep-loaded bough a mellow shower 
 Incessant melts away. The juicy pear 630 
 
 Lies, in a soft profusion, scatter'd round. 
 A various sweetness swells the gentle race: 
 By Nature's all-refining hand prepared, 
 Of temper'd sun, and water, earth, and air, 
 In ever-changing composition mixt. 
 Such, falling frequent through the chiller night, 
 The fragrant stores, the wide-projected heaps 
 Of apples, which the lusty-handed year, 
 Innumerous, o'er the blushing orchard shakes. 
 A various spirit, fresh, delicious, keen, 640 
 
 Dwells in their gelid pores; and, active, points 
 The piercing cider for the thirsty tongue: 
 Thy native theme, and boon inspirer too, 
 Philips, Pomona's bard, the second thou 
 Who nobly durst, in rhyme-unfetter* d yeyse^ 
 With British freedom sing the British song: 
 How, from Silurian vats, high sparkling wines 
 Foam in transparent floods; some strong, to cheer 
 The wintry revels of the labouring hind; 
 And tasteful some, to cool the summer hours. 650 
 
 In this glad season, while his sweetest beams 
 The sun sheds equal o'er the meeken'd day; 
 Oh, lose me in the green delightful walks 
 Of Dodington, thy seat, serene and plain; 
 Where simple Nature reigns: and every view 
 Diffusive, spreads the pure Dorsetian downs, 
 In boundless prospect; yonder shagg'd with wood, 
 Here rich with harvest, and there white with flocks! 
 Meantime, the grandeur of thy lofty dome, 
 Far-splendid, seizes on the ravish'd eye. 660 
 
 New beauties rise with each revolving day; 
 
AUTUMN. 101 
 
 New columns swell ; and still the fresh Spring finds 
 
 New plants to quicken, and new groves to green* 
 
 Full of thy genius all ! the Muses' seat: 
 
 Where, in the secret bower and winding walk, 
 
 For virtuous Young and thee they twine the bay. 
 
 Here wandering oft, fired with the restless thirst 
 
 Of thy applause, I solitary court 
 
 Th' inspiring breeze: and meditate the book 
 
 Of Nature ever open; aiming thence, 670 
 
 Warm from the heart, to learn the moral song. 
 
 Here, as I steal along the sunny wall, 
 
 Where Autumn basks, with fruit empurpled deep, 
 
 My pleasing theme continual prompts my thought; 
 
 Presents the downy peach; the shining plum; 
 
 The ruddy, fragrant nectarine; and dark, 
 
 Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious fig. 
 
 The vine too here her curling tendrils shoots; 
 
 Hangs out her clusters, glowing to the south; 
 
 And scarcely wishes for a warmer sky. 680 
 
 Turn we a moment Fancy's rapid flight 
 To vigorous soils, and climes of fair extent; 
 Where, by the potent sun elated high, 
 The vineyard swells refulgent on the day; 
 Spreads o'er the vale; or up the mountain climbs, 
 Profuse; and drinks amid the sunny rocks, 
 From cliff to cliff increased, the heighten'd blaze. 
 Low bend the weighty boughs. The clusters clear, 
 Half through the foliage seen, or ardent flame, 
 Or shine transparent; while perfection breathes 690 
 
 White o'er the turgent film the living dew. 
 As thus they brighten with exalted juice, 
 Touch'd into flavour by the mingling ray, 
 The rural youth and virgins o'er the field, 
 Each fond for each to cull th' autumnal prime, 
 Exulting rove, and speak the vintage nigh. 
 Then comes the crushing swain; the country floats, 
 And foams unbounded with the mashy flood; 
 That by degrees fermented, and refined, 
 
102 AUTUMN. 
 
 Round the raised nations pours the cup of joy: 700 
 
 The claret smooth, red as the lip we press 
 In sparkling fancy, while we drain the bowl; 
 The mellow-tasted burgundy; and quick, 
 As is the wit it gives, the gay champaign. 
 
 Now, by the cool declining year condensed, 
 Descend the copious exhalations, check'd 
 As up the middle sky unseen they stole, 
 And roll the doubling fogs around the hill. 
 No more the mountain, horrid, vast, sublime, 
 Who pours a sweep of rivers from his sides, 710 
 
 And high between contending kingdoms rears 
 The rocky long division, fills the view 
 With great variety; but in a night 
 Of gathering vapour, from the baffled sense 
 Sinks dark and dreary. Thence expanding far, 
 The huge dusk, gradual, swallows up the plain: 
 Vanish the woods; the dim-seen river seems 
 Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave. 
 Even in the height of noon opprest, the sun 
 Sheds weak, and blunt, his wide-refracted ray; 720 
 
 Whence glaring oft, with many a broaden'd orb, 
 He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth, 
 Seen through the turbid air, beyond the life 
 Objects appear; and, wilder'd, o'er the waste 
 The shepherd stalks gigantic. Till at last 
 Wreath'd dun around, in deeper circles still, 
 Successive closing, sits the general fog 
 Unbounded o'er the world; and, mingling thick, 
 A formless grey confusion covers all: 
 
 As when of old (so sung the Hebrew Bard) 730 
 
 Li Jit, u'ncollectcd, through the chaos urgea 
 Its infant way; nor Order yet had drawn 
 His. lovely train from out the dubious gloom. 
 
 These roving mists, that constant now begin 
 To smoke along the hilly country, these, 
 With weighty rains, and melted Alpine snows, 
 The mountain-cisterns fill, those ample store* 
 
AUTUMN. 103 
 
 Of water, scoop'd among the hollow rocks; 
 
 Whence gush the streams, the ceaseless fountains play, 
 
 And their unfailing wealth the rivers draw. 740 
 
 Some sages say, that where the numerous wave 
 
 For ever lashes the resounding shore, 
 
 Drill'd through the sandy stratum, every way, 
 
 The waters with the sandy stratum rise; 
 
 Amid whose angles infinitely strain'd, 
 
 They joyful leave their jaggy salts behind, 
 
 And clear and sweeten, as they soak along. 
 
 Nor stops the restless fluid, mounting still, 
 
 Though oft amidst th' irriguous vale it springs; 
 
 But to the mountain courted by the sand, 750 
 
 That leads it darkling on in faithful maze, 
 
 Far from the parent-main, it boils again 
 
 Fresh into day; and all the glittering hill 
 
 Is bright with spouting rills. But hence this vain 
 
 Amusive dream ! why should the waters love 
 
 ToTake so far a journey to" the hills, 
 
 WHen the sweet valleys offer to their toil 
 
 Inviting quiet, and a nearer bed ? 
 
 Or if, by blind ambition led astray, 
 
 They must aspire; why should they sudden stop 760 
 
 Among the broken mountain's rushy dells, 
 
 And, ere they gain its highest peak, desert 
 
 Th' attractive sand that charm'd their course so long ? 
 
 Besides, the hard agglomerating salts, 
 
 The spoils of ages, would impervious choke 
 
 Then* secret channels; or, by slow degrees, 
 
 High as the hills protrude the swelling vales. 
 
 Old Ocean too, suck'd through the porous globe, 
 
 Had long ere now iorsook his horrid bed, 
 
 And brought Deucalion's wat'ry times again. 770 
 
 Say then, where lurk the vast eternal springs, 
 That, like creating Nature, lie conceal'd 
 From mortal eye, yet with their lavish stores 
 Refresh the globe, and all its joyous tribes 1 
 thou pervading Genius, given to Man, 
 
104 AUTUMN. 
 
 To trace the secrets of the dark abyss, 
 
 lay the mountains bare ! and wide display 
 
 Their hidden structure to th' astouish'd view ! 
 
 Strip from the branching Alps their piny load; 
 
 The huge incumbrance of horrific woods 780 
 
 From Asian Taurus, from Imaus stretch'd 
 
 Athwart the roving Tartar's sullen bounds ! 
 
 Give opening Hemus to my searching eye, 
 
 And high Olympus pouring many a stream ! 
 
 from the sounding summits of the north, 
 
 The Dofrine Hills, through Scandinavia rolTd 
 
 To farthest Lapland and the frozen main; 
 
 From lofty Caucasus, far seen by those 
 
 Who in the Caspian and black Euxine toil; 
 
 From cold Riphean Rocks, which the wild Russ 790 
 
 Believes the stony girdh of the world; 
 
 And all the dreadful mountains wrapt in storm, 
 
 Whence wide Siberia draws her lonely floods: 
 
 sweep th' eternal snows, hung o'er the deep, 
 That ever works beneath his sounding base ! 
 Bid Atlas, propping heaven, as poets feign, 
 His subterranean wonders spread ! unveil 
 The miny caverns, blazing on the day, 
 
 Of Abyssinia's cloud-compelling cliffs, 
 And of the bending Mountains of the Moon ! 800 
 
 O'ertopping all these giant-sons of earth, 
 Let the dire Andes, from the radiant Line 
 Stretch'd to the stormy seas that thunder round 
 The southern pole, their hideous deeps unfold ! 
 Amazing scene ! Behold ! the glooms disclose; 
 
 1 see the rivers in their infant beds ! 
 Deep, deep I hear them lab'ring to get free; 
 I see the leaning strata, artful ranged; 
 The gaping fissures to receive the rains, 
 
 The melting snows, and ever-dripping fogs. 810 
 
 Strow'd bibulous above I see the sands, 
 The pebbly gravel next, the layers then 
 Of mingled moulds, of more retentive earths, 
 
AUTUMN. 105 
 
 The gutter' d rocks and mazy-running clefts; 
 
 That, while the stealing moisture they transmit, 
 
 Retard its motion, and forbid its waste. 
 
 Beneath th' incessant weeping of these drains 
 
 I see the rocky siphons stretch'd immense; 
 
 The mighty reservoirs of hardened chalk, 
 
 Or stiff compacted clay, capacious form'd. 820 
 
 Overflowing thence, the congregated stores, 
 
 The crystal treasures of the liquid world, 
 
 Through the stirr'd sands a bubbling passage burst; 
 
 And welling out, around the middle steep, 
 
 Or from the bottoms of the bosom'd hills, 
 
 In pure effusion flow. United, thus, 
 
 Th' exhaling sun, the vapour-burden'd air, 
 
 The gelid mountains, that to rain condensed, 
 
 These vapours in continual current draw, 
 
 And send them, o'er the fair-divided earth, 830 
 
 In bounteous rivers to the deep again, 
 
 A social commerce hold, and firm support 
 
 The full-adjusted harmony of things. 
 
 When Autumn scatters his departing gleams, 
 Warn'd of approaching Winter, gather' d, play 
 The swallow-people; and toss'd wide around, 
 O'er the calm sky, in convolution swift, 
 The feather'd eddy floats; rejoicing once, 
 Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire; 
 In clusters clung, beneath the mould'ring bank, 840 
 
 And where, unpierced by frost, the cavern sweats. 
 Or rather into warmer climes convey'd, 
 With other kindred birds of season, there 
 They twitter cheerful, till the vernal months 
 Invite them welcome back: for, thronging, now 
 Innumerous wings are in commotion all. 
 
 Where the Rhine loses his majestic force 
 In Belgian plains, won from the raging deep7"\ 
 By diligence amazing, and the strong 
 Unconquerable hand of Liberty, 850 
 
 The stork-assembly meets; for many a day, 
 
106 AtJTUMtf. 
 
 Consulting deep, and various, ere they take 
 Their arduous voyage through the liquid sky 
 And now their route design'd, their leaders chose, 
 Their tribes adjusted, clean'd their vigorous wings; 
 And many a circle, many a short essay, 
 Wheel'd round and round, in congregation full, 
 The figured flight ascends; and, riding high 
 Th' aerial billows, mixes with the clouds. 
 
 Or, where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, 860 
 
 Boils round the naked melancholy isles 
 Of farthest Thule, and th* Atlantic surge 
 Pours in among the stormy Hebrides; 
 Who can recount what transmigrations there 
 Are annual made ? what nations come and go ? 
 And how the living clouds on clouds arise 1 
 Infinite wings ! till all the plume-dark air, 
 And rude-resounding shore, are one wild cry. 
 
 Here the plain harmless native, his small flock, 
 And herd diminutive of many hues, 870 
 
 Tends on the little island's verdant swell, 
 The shepherd's sea-girt reign; or, to the rocks 
 Dire-clinging, gathers his ovarious food; 
 Or sweeps the fishy shore; or treasures up 
 The plumage, rising full, to form the bed 
 Of luxury. And here awhile the Muse, 
 High-hovering o'er the broad cerulean scene, 
 Sees Caledonia, in romantic view; 
 Her airy mountains, from the waving main, 
 Invested with a keen diffusive sky, 880 
 
 Breathing the soul acute; her forests huge, 
 Incult, robust, and tall, by Nature's hand 
 Planted of old; her azure lakes between, 
 Pour'd out extensive, and of wat'ry wealth 
 Full; winding deep, and green, her fertile vales; 
 With many a cool, translucent, brimming flood 
 Wash'd lovely, from the Tweed (pure parent stream, 
 Whose pastoral banks first heard my Doric reed, 
 With, sylvan Jed, thy tributary brook), 
 
AUTUMN. 107 
 
 To where the north-inflated tempest foams 890 
 
 O'er Orca's or Betubium's highest peak: 
 
 Nurse of a people, in misfortune's school 
 
 Train' d up to hardy deeds; soon visited 
 
 By learning, when before the Gothic rage 
 
 She took her western flight. A manly race, 
 
 Of unsubmitting spirit, wise and brave; 
 
 Who still through bleeding ages struggled hard 
 
 (As well unhappy Wallace can attest, 
 
 Great patriot-hero! ill requited chief!) 
 
 To hold a generous undiminish'd state; 900 
 
 Too much in vain ! Hence of unequal bounds 
 
 Impatient, and by tempting glory borne 
 
 O'er every land; for every land their life 
 
 Has flow'd profuse, their piercing genius plann'd, 
 
 And swell'd the pomp of peace their faithful toil: 
 
 As from their own clear north, in radiant streams, 
 
 Bright over Europe bursts the Boreal Morn. 
 
 Oh ! is there not some patriot, in whose power 
 That best, that godlike Luxury is placed, 
 Of blessing thousands, thousands yet unborn, 910 
 
 Through late posterity 1 some, large of soul, 
 To cheer dejected industry 1 to give 
 A double harvest to the pining swain ? 
 And teach the lab'ring hand the sweets of toil ? 
 How, by the finest art, the native robe 
 To weave; how white as hyperborean snow 
 To Form the lucid lawn; with vent'rous oar 
 How to dash wide the billow; nor look on, 
 Shamefully passive, while Batavian fleets 
 Defraud us of the glittering finny swarms, 920 
 
 That heave our friths, and crowdnrrjoli" our shores ? 
 How all-enlivening trade to rouse, and wing 
 Thejprosperous sail, from every growing port 
 Uninjured, round the sea-encircled globe; 
 And thus, in soul united as in name, 
 Bid Britain reign the mistress of the deep ? 
 
 Yes, there are such. And full on thee, Argyle, 
 I 
 
108 AUTU3IN. 
 
 Her hope, her stay, her darling, and her hoast, 
 From her first patriots and her heroes sprung, 
 Thy fond imploring Country turns her eye : 
 In thee, with all a mother's triumph, sees 
 Her every virtue, every grace combined; 
 Her genius, wisdom, her engaging turn, 
 Her pride of honour, and her courage tried, 
 Calm, and intrepid, in the very throat 
 Of sulph'rous war, on Tenier's dreadful field. 
 Nor less the palm of peace inwreaths thy brow: 
 For, powerful as thy sword, from thy rich tongue 
 Persuasion flows, and wins the high debate; 
 While mix'd in thee combine the charm of youth, 
 The force of manhood, and the depth of age. 
 Thee, Forbes, too, whom every worth attends, 
 As truth sincere, as weeping friendship kind; 
 Thee, truly generous, and in silence great, 
 Thy country feels through her reviving arts, 
 Plann'd by thy wisdom, by thy soul inform'd; 
 And seldom has she known a friend like thee. 
 
 But see the fading many-colour'd woods, 
 Shade deepening over shade, the country round 
 Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun, 
 Of every hue, from wan declining green 
 To sooty dark. These now the lonesome Muse, 
 Low-whispering, lead into their leaf-strown walks, 
 /And give the season in its latest view. 
 / Meantime, light-shadowing all, a sober calm 
 / Fleeces unbounded ether; whose least wave 
 Stands tremulous, uncertain where to turn 
 The gentle current; while illumined wide, 
 The dewy-skirted clouds imbibe the sun, 
 And through their lucid veil his soften'd force 
 Shed o'er the peaceful world. Then L s JfeeJbimej 
 For those whom wisdom and whom Nature charm^ 
 To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd, 
 And soar above this little scene of tilings; 
 To tread low-thought ed vice beneath their feet; 
 
AUTUMN. 109 
 
 To soothe the throbbing passions into peace, 
 And woo lone Quiet in her silent walks. 
 
 Thus solitary, and in pensive guise, 
 Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead, 
 And through the sadden'd grove, where scarce is heard 970 
 One dying strain, to cheer the woodman's toil. 
 Haply some widow'd songster pours his plaint, 
 Far, in faint warblings, through the tawny copse; 
 While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks, 
 And each wild throat, whose artless strains so late 
 SwelPd all the music of the swarming shades, 
 Robb'd of their tuneful souls, now shivering sit \ 
 On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock; -J 
 With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes, 
 And nought save chattering discord in their note. 980 
 
 let not, aim'd from some inhuman eye, 
 The gun the music of the coming year 
 Destroy; and harmless, unsuspecting harm, 
 Lay the weak tribes, a miserable prey, , 
 
 In mingled murder, fluttering on the ground ! 
 
 The pale descending year, yet pleasing still 
 Aj^entler mood inspires; for now the leaf 
 Incessant rustles from the mournful grove; 
 Oft startling such as, studious, walk below, 
 And slowly circles through the waving air. 990 
 
 But should a quicker breeze amid the boughs 
 Sob, o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams; 
 Till choked, and matted with the dreary shower 
 The forest-walks, at every rising gale, 
 Koll wide the wither'd waste, and whistle bleak. 
 Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields; 
 And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery; race 
 Their sunny robes resign. Even what remain'd 
 Of stronger fruits falls from the naked tree: 
 And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around 1000 
 
 The desolated prospect thrills the soul. 
 
 He comes ! he comes ! in every breeze the Power 
 Of Philosophic Melancholy comes ! 
 
110 AUTUMN. 
 
 His near approach the sudden-starting tear, 
 
 The glowing cheek, tluTmild dejected air, 
 
 The soften' d feature, and the beating heart, 
 
 Pierced deep with many a virtuous pang, declare. 
 
 O'er all the soul his sacred influence breathes, 
 
 Inflames imagination; through the breast 
 
 Infuses every tenderness; and far 1010 
 
 Beyond dim earth exalts the swelling thought. 
 
 Ten thousand thousand fleet ideas, such 
 
 As never mingled with the vulgar dream, 
 
 Crowd fast into the Mind's creative eye. 
 
 As fast the correspondent passions rise, 
 
 As varied, and as high: devotion raised 
 
 To rapture, and divine astonishment; 
 
 The love of Nature unconfined, and, chief, 
 
 Of human race; the large ambitious wish 
 
 To make them blest; the sigh for suffering worth 1020 
 
 Lost in obscurity; the noble scorn 
 
 Of tyrant-pride; the fearless great resolve; 
 
 The wonder which the dying patriot draws, 
 
 Inspiring glory through remotest time; 
 
 Th' awaken'd throb for virtue, and for fame; 
 
 The sympathies of love, and friendship dear; 
 
 With all the social offspring of the heart. 
 
 Oh bear me then to vast embowering shades, 
 To twilight groves, and visionary vales; 
 To weeping grottoes, and prophetic glooms; 1030 
 
 Where angel-forms athwart the solemn dusk 
 Tremendous sweep, or seem to sweep along: 
 And voices more than human, through the vojj 
 Deep-sounding, seize th* enthusiastic ear. 
 
 Or is this gloom too much I Then lead, ye Powers, 
 That o'er the garden and the rural seat 
 Preside, which shining through the cheerful land 
 In countless numbers blest Britannia sees; 
 lead me to the wide-extended walks, 
 The fair majestic paradise of Stowe ! 1040 
 
 Not Persian Cyrus on Ionia's shore 
 
AUTUMN. Ill 
 
 E'er saw such sylvan scenes; such various art 
 
 By genius fired, such ardent genius tamed 
 
 By cool judicious art; that, in the strife, 
 
 All-beauteous Nature fears to be outdone. 
 
 And there, Pitt ! thy country's early boast, 
 
 There let me sit beneath the shelter' d slopes, 
 
 Or in that Temple where, in future times, 
 
 Thou well shalt merit a distinguished name; 
 
 And, with thy converse blest, catch the last smiles 1050 
 
 Of Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods, 
 
 While there with thee th' enchanted round I walk, 
 
 The regulated wild; gay Fancy then 
 
 Will tread in thought the groves of Attic Landj 
 
 Will from thy standard taste refine her own, 
 
 Correct her pencil to the purest truth 
 
 Of Nature, or, the unimpassion'd shades 
 
 Forsaking,, raise it to the human min<L_ 
 
 OrTf hereafter she, with juster hand, 
 
 Shall draw the tragic scenes-instruct her thou 1060 
 
 To mark the varied movements of the heart, 
 
 What every decent character requires, 
 
 And every passion speaks: through her strain 
 
 Breathe thy pathetic eloquence ! that moulds 
 
 Th' attentive senate, charms, persuades, exalts; 
 
 Of honest zeal th' indignant lightning throws, 
 
 And shakes corruption on her venal throne. 
 
 While thus we talk, and through Elysian Vales 
 Delighted rove, perhaps a sigh escapes: 
 What pity, Cobham, thou thy verdant files 1070 
 
 Of order'd trees shouldst here inglorious range, 
 Instead of squadrons flaming o'er the field, 
 And long embattled hosts; when the proud foe, 
 The faithless vain disturber of mankind, 
 Insulting Gaul, has roused the world to war; 
 When keen, once more, within their bounds to press 
 Those polish'd robbers, those ambitious slaves, 
 The British youth would hail thy wise command, 
 Thy temper'd ardour and thy vet'ran skill. 
 
112 AUTUMN. 
 
 The western sun withdraws the shorten'd day; 1080 
 And humid Evening, gliding o'er the sky, 
 In her chill progress, to the ground condensed 
 The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooze, 
 Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind, 
 Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along 
 The dusky-mantled lawn. Meanwhile the moon, 
 Full-orb'd and breaking through the scatter'd clouds, 
 Shows her broad visage in the crimson'd east; 
 Turn'd to the sun direct, her spotted disk, 
 Where mountains rise, umbrageous dales descend, 1090 
 And caverns deep, as o^tictube_je^cries, 
 A smaller earth, gives TuVEiTblaze again 
 Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day. 
 Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop, 
 Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime. 
 Wide the pale deluge floats, and streaming mild 
 O'er the sky'd mountain to the shadowy vale, 
 While rocks and floods reflect the qiuVring gleam, 
 The whole air whitens with a boundless tide 
 Of silver radiance, trembling round the world. 1100 
 
 But when half-blotted from the sky her light, 
 Fainting, permits the starry fires to burn 
 With keener lustre through the depth of heaven; 
 Or near extinct her deaden'd orb appears, 
 And scarce appears, of sickly beamless white; 
 Oft in this season, silent from the north 
 A blaze of meteors shoots: ens wee ping first 
 The lower skies, they all 111 once converge 
 High to the crown of heaven, and all at once 
 Relapsing quick, as quickly re-ascend, 1110 
 
 And mix, and thwart, extinguish, and renew, 
 All ether coursing in a maze of light. 
 
 From look to look, contagious through the crowd, 
 The panic runs, and into wondrous shapes 
 Th' appearance throws: armies in IIUM-I array, 
 Thmng'd with aerial spears and st<vds of tiro; 
 Till the long lines of full-extended war 
 
AUTUMN. 113 
 
 Iii bleeding fight commixt, the sanguine flood 
 
 Rolls a broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven. 
 
 As thus they scan the visionary scene, 1120 
 
 On all sides swells the superstitious din, 
 
 Incontinent; and busy frenzy talks 
 
 Of .blood and battle; cities overturn' d; 
 
 And late at night in swallowing earthquake sunk, 
 
 Or hideous wrapt in fierce ascending flame 
 
 Of sallow famine, inundation, storm; 
 
 Of pestilence, and every great distress; 
 
 Empires subversed, when ruling fate has struck 
 
 Th' unalterable hour: even Nature's self 
 
 Is deem'd to totter on the brink of time. 1130 
 
 Not so the Man of philosophic eye, 
 
 AndjjospecJLsage; the waving brightness he 
 
 Curious surveys, inquisitive to know 
 
 The causes, and materials, yet unfix'd, 
 
 Of this appearance beautiful and new. 
 
 Now black, and deep, the night begins to fall, 
 A shade immense ! Sunk in the quenching gloom, 
 Magnificent and vast, are heaven and earth. 
 Orde confounded lies; all beauty void; 
 Distinction lost; and gay variety 1140 
 
 One universal blot: such the fair power 
 Of light, to kindle and create the whole. 
 Drear is the state of the benighted wretch, 
 Who then, bewildered, wanders through the dark, 
 Full of pale fancies, and chimeras huge; 
 Nor visited by one directive ray, 
 From cottage streaming, or from airy hall. 
 Perhaps impatient as he stumbles on, 
 Struck from the root of slimy rushes, blue, 
 The wild-fire scatters round, or gather'd trails 1150 
 
 A length of flame deceitful o'er the moss: 
 Whither decoy'd by the fantastic blaze, 
 Now lost and now renewed, he sinks absorpt 
 Rider and horse, amid the miry gulf; 
 While still, from day to day, his pining wife, 
 
114 AUTUMN. 
 
 And plaintive children, his return await, 
 
 In wild conjecture lost. At other times, 
 
 Sent by the better Genius of the night, 
 
 Innoxious, gleaming on the horse's mane, 
 
 The meteor sits ; and shows the narrow path, 1160 
 
 That winding leads through pits of death, or else 
 
 Instructs him how to take the dangerous ford. 
 
 The lengthen'd night elapsed, the morning shines, 
 Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright, 
 Unfolding fair the last autumnal day. 
 And now the mounting sun dispels the fog; 
 The rigid hoar-frost melts before his beam ; 
 And hung on every spray, on every blade 
 Of grass, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round. 
 
 Ah see where robb'd, and murder'd, in that pit 1 170 
 Lies the still heaving hive ! at evening snatch'd, 
 Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, 
 And fix'd o'er sulphur : while, not dreaming ill, 
 The happy people in their waxen ceils 
 Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes 
 Of temperance, for Winter poor; rejoiced 
 To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores. 
 Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends ; 
 And, used to milder scents, the tender race, 
 By thousands, tumble from their honey'd domes, 1180 
 
 Convolved, and agonising in the dust. 
 And was it then for this you roam'd the Spring, 
 Intent from flower to flower? for this you toil'd, 
 Ceaseless, the burning Summer-heats away? 
 For this in Autumn search'd the blooming waste, 
 Nor lost one sunny gleam, for this sad fate? 
 .Man! tyrannic lord ! ho\v long, how lung 
 Shall prostrate Nature groan beneath your rage, 
 Awaiting renovation? When obliged, 
 Must you destroy ? Of their ambrosial food 1190 
 
 Can you not borrow; and, in just return, 
 Afford them shelter from the wintry winds? 
 Or, as the sharp year pinches, with their own 
 
AUTUMN. 115 
 
 Again regale them on some smiling day ? 
 
 See where the stony bottom of their town 
 
 Looks desolate, and wild; with here and there 
 
 A helpless number, who the ruin'd state 
 
 Survive, lamenting weak, cast out to death. 
 
 Thus a proud city, populous and rich, 
 
 Full of the works of peace, and high in joy, 1200 
 
 4JJheatre or feast, or. sunk in sleep 
 
 (As . late x Palermo, was thy fate), is seized 
 
 By some dread earthquake, and convulsive hurl'd 
 
 Sheer from the black foundation, stench-involved, 
 
 Into a^^ulf^of blue sulphureous flame. 
 
 Hence everyliaf sher sight ! for now the day, 
 O'er heaven and earth diffused, grows warm, and high; 
 Infinite splendour ! wide investing all. 
 How still the breeze ! save what the filmy thread 
 Of dew evaporate brushes from the plain. 1210 
 
 How clear the cloudless sky ! how deeply tinged 
 With a peculiar blue ! th' ethereal arch 
 How swelled immense ! amid whose azure throned, 
 The radiant sun how gay ! how calm below 
 The gilded earth ! the harvest treasures all 
 Now gather'd in, beyond the rage of storms, 
 Sure to the swain; the circling fence shut up; 
 And instant Winter's utmost rage defied. 
 While, loose to festive joy, the country round 
 Laughs with the loud sincerity of mirth, 1220 
 
 Shook to the wind their cares. The toil-strung youth, 
 By the quick sense of music taught alone, 
 Leaps wildly graceful in the lively dance. 
 Her every charm abroad, the village toast, 
 Young, buxom, warm, in native beauty rich, 
 Darts not unmeaning looks; and where her eye 
 Points an approving smile, with double force 
 The cudgel rattles, and the wrestler twines. 
 Age too shines out; and, garrulous, recounts 
 The feats of youth. Thus they rejoice; nor think 1230 
 That, with to-morrow's sun, their annual toil 
 
116 AUTUMN. 
 
 Begins again the never-ceasing round. 
 
 Oh knew he but his happiness, of Men 
 The happiest he ! who far from public rage, 
 IVep in the vale, with a choice Few retired, 
 Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Li IV'. 
 AY hat though the dome be wanting, whose_proud^ate, 
 Each morning vomits out the sneaking crowd 
 Of flatterers false, and in their turn abus-l * 
 Vile intercourse! What though the glittering robe, 1240 
 Of every hue reflected light can give. " 
 Or floating loose, or stiff with mazy gold 
 (The pride and gaze of fools !), oppress him not ? 
 What though, from utmost land and sea pui'vey'd, 
 For him each rarer tributary life 
 Bleeds not, and his insatiate table heaps 
 With luxury and death 1 What though his bowl 
 Flames not with costly juice; nor sunk in beds, 
 Oft of gay care, he tosses out the night, 
 Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state 1 ? 1250 
 
 What though he knows not those fantastic joys, 
 That still amuse the wanton, still deceive; 
 A face of pleasure, but a heart of pain; 
 Their hollow moments undelighted all 1 
 Sure peace is his; a solid life, estranged 
 To disappointment, and fallacious hope: 
 Rich hi content, in Nature's bounty rich, 
 In herbs and fruits; whatever greens the Spring, 
 When heaven descends in showers; or bends the bough 
 When Summer reddens, and when Autumn beams; 12 GO 
 Or in the wintry glebe whatever lies 
 Conceal'd, and fattens with the richest sap: 
 These are not wanting; nor the milky drove, 
 Luxuriant, spread o'er all the lowing vale; 
 Nor bleating mountains; nor the chide of streams, 
 And hum of bees, inviting sleep sincere 
 Into the guiltless breast, beneath the shade, 
 Or thrown at lanr amid the fragrant hay; 
 Nor aught besides of prospect, grove, or song, 
 
AUTUMN. 117 
 
 Dim grottoes, gleaming lakes, and fountain clear. 1270 
 Here too dwells simple truth; plain innocence; 
 Unsullied beauty; sound unbroken youth, 
 Patient of labour,' with a little pleased; 
 Health ever blooming; unambitious toil; 
 Calm contemplation, and poetic ease. 
 
 Let others brave the flood in quest of gain, 
 And beat, for joyless months, the gloomy wave: 
 Let such as deem it glory to destroy, 
 Rush into blood, the sack of cities seek: 
 Unpierced, exulting in the widow's wail, 1280 
 
 The virgin's shriek, and infant's trembling cry: 
 Let some, far-distant from their native soil, 
 Urged or by want or harden'd avarice, 
 Find other lands beneath another sun: 
 Let this through cities work his eager way, 
 By legal outrage and establish'd guile, 
 
 that ferment \ 
 
 Mad into tumult the seditious herd, 
 Or melt them down to slavery: let these 
 Ensnare the wretched in the toils of law, : 1290 
 
 Fomenting discord, and perplexing right, 
 Anjrqn race ! and those of fairer front, 
 But equal inhumanity, in courts, 
 Dejusiyejpojnp, and dark cabals, delight, 
 Wreath the deep bow, diffuse the lying smile, 
 And tread .the wgary ; labyrinth of state: 
 While he, from all the stormy passions free 
 That restless Men involve, hears, and but hears, 
 At distance safe, the human tempest roar, 
 Wrapt close in conscious peace. The fall of kings, 1300 
 The rage of nations, and the crush of states, 
 Move not the Man, who, from the world escaped, 
 .In still retreats, and flowery solitudes, 
 tTo Nature's Toicu attends, ffib^monflS to month/ 
 And day'to day, through the revolving year; / 
 Admiring, sees her in her every shape; 
 Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart \^ 
 
118 AUTUBIN. 
 
 Takes what she liberal gives, nor thinks of more. 
 
 He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems, 
 
 Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale 1310 
 
 Into his freshen'd soul; her genial hours 
 
 He full enjoys; and not a beauty blows, 
 
 And not an opening blossom breathes in vain. 
 
 In Summer he, beneath the living shade, 
 
 Such as o'er frigid Tempe wont to wave, 
 
 Or Hemus cool, reads what the Muse, of these 
 
 Perhaps, has in immortal numbers sung; 
 
 Or what she dictates, writes: and, oft an eye 
 
 Shot round, rejoices in the vigorous year. 
 
 When Autumn's yellow lustre gilds the world, 1320 
 And tempts the sickled swain into the field, 
 Seized by the general joy, his heart distends 
 With gentle throes; and through the tepid gleams 
 Deep musing, then he best exerts his song. 
 Even Winter wild to him is full of bliss. 
 The mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, 
 Abrupt, and deep, stretch'd o'er the buried earth, 
 Awake to solemn thought. At night the skies, 
 Disclosed and kindled by refining frost, 
 Pour every lustre on th' exalted eye. 1330 
 
 A friend, a book, the stealing hours secure, 
 And mark them down for wisdom. With swift wing, 
 O'er land and sea imagination roams; 
 Or truth divinely breaking on his mind, 
 Elates his being, and unfolds his powers; 
 Or in his breast heroic virtue burns. 
 The touch of kindred, too, and love he feels; 
 The modest eye, whose beams on his alone 
 Ecstatic shine; the little strong embrace 
 Of prattling children, twined around his neck, 1 340 
 
 And emulous to please him, calling forth 
 The fond parental soul. Nor purpose gay, 
 Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly scorns; 
 For happiness and true philosophy 
 Are of the social still, and smiling kind. 
 
AUTUMN. 119 
 
 This is the life which those who fret in guilt, 
 
 And guilty cities, never knew; the life, 
 
 Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt, 
 
 When angels dwelt, and God himself, with Man! 
 
 Oh Nature! all-sufficient! overall! 1350 
 
 Enrich me with the Imowle'dge of thy works ! 
 Snatch me to heaven; thy rolling wonders there, 
 World beyond world, in infinite extent, 
 Profusely scattered o'er the blue immense, 
 Show me; their motions, periods*, and their Jaws^ 
 Give me to scan; through the disclosing deep 
 Light my blind way: the mineral strata there; 
 Thrust, blooming, thence the vegetable world;- 
 O'er that the rising system, more complex, 
 Of animals; and higher still, the mind, 1360 
 
 The varied scene of quick-compounded thought, 
 And where the mixing passions endless shift; 
 These ever open to my ravish'd eye; 
 A search, the flight of time can ne'er exhaust ! 
 
 But if to that unequal; if the blood, 
 In sluggish streams, about my heart, forbid 
 That best ambition; under closing shades, 
 Inglorious, lay me by the lowly brook, 
 And whisper to my dreams. From Thee begin, 
 Dwell all on Thee, with Thee conclude my song; 1370 
 
 And let me never never stray from Thee ! 
 
WINTER. 
 
 The subject proposed. Address to the Eavl of Wilmington. First ap- 
 proach of Winter. According to the natural course of the season, 
 various storms described. Rain. Wind. Snow. The driving of the 
 snows: a man perishing among them; whence reflections on the wants 
 and miseries of human life. The wolves descending from the Alps and 
 Apennines. A winter evening described : as spent by philosophers; by 
 the country people; in the city. Frost. A view of Winter within the 
 polar circle. A thaw. The whole concluding with moral reflections on 
 a future state. 
 
 SEE Winter comes, to rule the varied year, 
 
 Sullen and sad, with all his rising train, 
 
 Vapours, and Clouds, and Storms. Be these my theme; 
 
 These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, 
 
 And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms ! 
 
 Congenial horrors, hail ! with frequent foot, 
 
 Pleased have I, in my cheerful morn of life, 
 
 When nursed by careless solitude I lived, 
 
 And sung of Nature with unceasing joy 
 
 Pleased have I wander'd through your rough domain; 10 
 
 Trod the pure virgin-snows, myself as pure; 
 
 Heard the winds roar, and the big torrent burst; 
 
 Or seen the deep fermenting tempest brew'd, 
 
 In the grim evening sky. Thus pass'd the time, 
 
 Till through the lucid chambers of the South 
 
 Look'd out the joyous Spring, look'd out, and smiled. 
 
 To thee, the patron of her first essay, 
 The Muse, Wilmington ! renews her song. 
 Since, has she rounded the revolving year; 
 
122 WINTER. 
 
 Skimm'd the gay Spring; on eagle-pinions borne, 20 
 
 Attempted through the Summer-blaze to rise; 
 
 Then swept o'er Autumn with the shadowy gale; 
 
 And now among the wintry clouds again, 
 
 Roll'd in the doubling storm, she tries to soar; 
 
 To swell her note with all the rushing winds; 
 
 To suit her sounding cadence to the floods; 
 
 As is her theme, her numbers wildly .great; 
 
 Thrice happy ! could she fill thy judging ear 
 
 With bold description, and with manly tliought. 
 
 Nor art thou skill'd in awful schemes alone, 30 
 
 And how to make a mighty people thrive: 
 But equal goodness, sound integrity, 
 A firm, unshaken, uncorrupted soul 
 
 Amid a sliding age, and burning strong, 
 
 Nor vainly blazing for thy country's weal, 
 
 A steady spirit, regularly free; 
 
 These, each exalting each, the statesman light 
 
 Into the patriot; these, the public hope 
 
 And eye to thee converting, bid the Muse 
 
 Record what envy dares not flattery call. 40 
 
 Now, when the cheerless empire of the sky 
 
 To Capricorn the Centaur Archer yields, 
 
 And fierce Aquarius stains th' inverted year; 
 
 Hung o'er the farthest verge of heaven, the sun 
 
 Scarce spreads through ether the dejected day. 
 
 Faint are his gleams, and ineffectual shoot 
 
 His struggling rays, in horizontal lines, 
 
 Through the thick air; as clothed in cloudy storm, 
 
 Weak, wan, and broad, he skirts the southern sky; 
 
 And, soon-descending, to the long dark night, 5C 
 
 Wide-shading all, the prostrate world resigns. 
 
 Nor is the night unwish'd; while vital heat, 
 
 Light, life, and joy, the dubious day forsake. 
 
 Meantime, in sable cincture, shadows vast, 
 
 Deep-tinged and damp, and congregated clouds, 
 
 And all the vapoury turbulence of heaven, 
 
 Involve the face of things. Thus Wiuter falls, 
 
WINTER. 123 
 
 A heavy gloom oppressive o'er the world, 
 
 Through Nature shedding influence malign, 
 
 And rouses up the seeds of dark disease. 60 
 
 The soul of Man dies in him, loathing life, 
 And black with more than melancholy views. 
 The cattle droop; and o'er the furrow'd land, 
 Fresh from the plough, the dun-discolour'd flocks, 
 Untended, spreading, crop the wholesome root. 
 Along the woods, along the moorish fens, 
 Sighs the sad Genius of the coming storm: 
 And up among the loose-disjointed cliffs, 
 And fractured mountains wild, the brawling brook, 
 And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, 70 
 
 Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear. 
 
 Then comes the father of the tempest forth, 
 Wrapt in black glooms. First joyless rains obscure 
 Drive through the mingling skies with vapour foul; 
 Dash on the mountain's brow, and shake the woods, 
 That grumbling wave below. Th' unsightly plain 
 Lies a brown deluge; as the low-bent clouds 
 Pour flood on flood, yet unexhausted still 
 Combine, and, deepening into night, shut up 
 The day's fair face. The wanderers of heaven, 80 
 
 Each to his home retire; save those that love 
 To take their pastime in the troubled air, 
 Or skimming flutter round the dimply pool. 
 The cattle from th' untasted fields return, 
 And ask, with meaning low, their wonted stalls, 
 Or ruminate in the contiguous shade. 
 Thither the household feathery people crowd, 
 The crested cock, with all his female train, 
 Pensive, and dripping; while the cottage-hind 
 Hangs o'er th' enlivening blaze, and taleful there 90 
 
 'Recounts his simple frolic: much he talks, 
 And much he laughs; nor recks the storm that blows 
 Without, and rattles on his humble roof. 
 
 Wide o'er the brim, with many a torrent swell' d, 
 And the mix'd ruin of its banks o'erspread, 
 K 
 
1-4 WINTER. 
 
 At last the roused-up river pours along: 
 
 Resistless, roaring, dreadful, down it comes, 
 
 From the rude mountain, and the mossy wild, 
 
 Tumbling through rocks abrupt, and sounding far; 
 
 Then o'er the sanded valley floating spreads, 
 
 Calm, sluggish, silent; till again, constraint 
 
 Between two meeting hills, it bursts away. 
 
 Where rocks and woods o'erhang the tin Lid stream; 
 
 There gathering triple force, rapid, and deep, 
 
 It boils, and wheels, and foams, and thunders through. 
 
 Nature, great parent ! whose unceasing hand 
 Rolls round the Seasons of the changeful year, 
 How mighty, how majestic, are thy works ! 
 With what a pleasing dread they swell the soul, 
 That sees astonish' d, and astonish'd sings ! 
 Ye, too, ye winds ! that now begin to blow, 
 With boisterous sweep, I raise my voice to you. 
 Where are your stores, ye powerful beings ! say, 
 Where your aerial magazines reserved, 
 To swell the brooding terrors of the storm ? 
 In what far distant region of the sky, 
 Hush'd in deep silence, sleep ye when 'tis calm ? 
 
 When from the pallid sky the sun descends, 
 With many a spot, that o'er his glaring orb 
 Uncertain wanders, stain'd, red fiery streaks 
 Begin to flush around. The reeling clouds 
 Stagger with dizzy poise, as doubting yet 
 Which master to obey: while rising slow, 
 Blank, in the leaden-colour 5 d east, the moon 
 Wears a wan circle round her blunted horns. 
 Seen through the turbid, fluctuating air, 
 The stars, obtuse, emit a shiver'd ray; 
 Or frequent seem to shoot athwart the gloom, 
 And long behind them trail the whitening blaze. 
 Snatch'd in short eddies, plays the wither' d leaf; 
 And on the flood the dancing feather floats. 
 With broaden'd nostrils to the sky upturn* J, 
 The conscious heifer sn nil's the btormy gale. 
 
WINTER. 125 
 
 Even as the matron, at her nightly task, 
 With pensive labour draws the flaxen thread, 
 The wasted taper and the crackling flame 
 Foretell the blast. But chief the plumy race, 
 The tenants of the sky, its changes speak. 
 
 Retiring from the downs, where all day long 
 They pick'd their scanty fare, a blackening train 140 
 
 Of clamorous rooks thick-urge their weary flight, 
 And seek the closing shelter of the grove. 
 Assiduous, in his bower^ the wailing owl 
 Plies his sad song. The cormorant on high 
 Wheels from the deep, and screams along the land. 
 Loud shrieks the soaring heron: and with wild wing, 
 The circling sea-fowl cleave the flaky clouds. 
 Ocean, unequal press'd, with broken tide 
 And blind commotion heaves; while from the shore, 
 Eat into caverns by the restless wave, 150 
 
 And forest-rustling mountain, comes a voice, 
 That, solemn sounding, bids the world prepare. 
 Then issues forth the storm with sudden burst, 
 And hurls the whole precipitated air 
 Down in a torrent. On the passive main 
 Descends th' ethereal force, and with strong gust 
 Turns from its bottom the discoloured deep. 
 Through the black night, that sits immense around, 
 Lash'd into foam, the fierce, conflicting brine 
 Seems o'er a thousand raging waves to burn: 160 
 
 Meantime the mountain-billows, to the clouds 
 In dreadful tumult swell'd, surge above surge, 
 Burst into chaos with tremendous roar, 
 And anchor' d navies from their stations drive, 
 Wild as the winds across the howling waste 
 Of mighty waters: now th' inflated wave 
 Straining they scale, and now impetuous shoot 
 Into the secret chambers of the deep, 
 The wintry Baltic thundering o'er their head. 
 Emerging thence again, before the breath 170 
 
 Of fuil-exerted heaven they wing their course, 
 
126 WINTER. 
 
 And dart on distant coasts; if some sharp rock, 
 
 Or shoal insidious, break not their career, 
 
 And in loose fragments fling them floating round. 
 
 Nor less at land the loosen'd tempest reigns. 
 The mountain thunders, and its sturdy sons 
 Stoop to the bottom of the rocks they shade. 
 Lone on the midnight steep, and all aghast, 
 The dark wayfaring stranger breathless toils, 
 And, often falling, climbs against the blast. 180 
 
 Low waves the rooted forest, vex'd, and sheds 
 What of its tarnish'd honours yet remain; 
 Dash'd down, and scatter'd, by the tearing wind's 
 Assiduous fury, its gigantic limbs. 
 Thus struggling through the dissipated grove, 
 The whirling tempest raves along the plain; 
 And on the cottage thatch' d, or lordly roof, 
 Keen-fastening, shakes them to the solid base. 
 Sleep frighted flies; and round the rocking dome, 
 For entrance eager, howls the savage blast. 190 
 
 Then, too, they say, through all the burden'd air, 
 Long groans are heard, slirill sounds, and distant sighs, 
 That, uttered by the Demon of the night, 
 Warn the devoted wretch of wo and death. 
 
 Huge uproar lords it wide. The clouds commix'd 
 Witli stars swift-gliding sweep along the sky. 
 All Nature reels. Till Nature's King, who oft 
 Amid tempestuous darkness dwells alone, 
 And on the wings of the careering wind 
 Walks dreadfully serene, commands a calm; 200 
 
 Then straight air, sea, and earth, are hush'd at once. 
 
 As yet 'tis midnight deep. The weary clouds, 
 Slow-meeting, mingle into solid gloom. 
 Now, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleep, 
 Let me associate with the serious Night, 
 And Contemplation, her sedate compeer; 
 Let me shake off th' intrusive cares of day, 
 And lay the meddling senses all aside. 
 
 Where now, ye lying vanities of life ! 
 
WINTER. 127 
 
 Ye ever-tempting, ever-cheating train ! 210 
 
 Where are ye now 1 and what is your amount I 
 
 Vexation, disappointment, and remorse. 
 
 Sad, sickening thought ! and yet deluded Man, 
 
 A scene of crude disjointed visions past, 
 
 And broken slumbers, rises still resolved, 
 
 With new-flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round. 
 
 Father of light and life, thou Good supreme ! 
 teach me what is good! teach me Thyself! 
 Save me from folly, vanity, and vice; 
 From every low pursuit ! and feed my soul / 220 
 
 With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure; 
 Sacred/ substantial, never-fading bliss ! 
 
 The keener tempests rise: and fuming dun 
 From all the livid east, or piercing north, 
 Thick clouds ascend; in whose capacious womb 
 A vapoury deluge lies, to snow congeal' d. 
 Heavy they roll their fleecy world along, 
 And the sky saddens with the gather'd storm. 
 Through the hush'd air the whitening shower descends, 
 At .first thin wavering; till at last the flakes 230 
 
 Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day 
 With a continual flow. The cherish'd fields 
 Put on their winter robe of purest white. 
 'Tis brightness all, save where the new snow melts 
 Along the mazy current. Low, the woods 
 Bow their hoar head; and ere the languid sun 
 Faint from the west emits his evening ray, 
 Earth's universal face, deep hid, and chill, 
 Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries _wide 
 The works of Man. Drooping, the labourer-ox 240 
 
 Stands covei?d7er with snow, and then demands 
 The fruit of all his toil. The fowls of heaven, 
 lamed by the cruel season, crowd around 
 The winnowing store, and claim the little boon 
 Which Providence assigns them. One alone, 
 The redbreast, sacred to the household gods, 
 Wisely regardful of tli' embroiling sky, 
 
128 WINTER. 
 
 In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves 
 
 His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Man 
 
 His annual visit. Half-afraid, he first 250 
 
 Against the window beats; then, brisk, alights 
 
 On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor, 
 
 Eyes all the smiling family askance, 
 
 And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is: 
 
 Till more familiar grown, the table crumbs 
 
 Attract his slender feet. The foodless wiids 
 
 Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The hare, 
 
 Though timorous of heart, and hard beset 
 
 By death in various forms, dark snares, and dogs, 
 
 And more unpitying Men, the garden seeks, 2 GO 
 
 Urged on by fearless want. The bleating kind 
 
 Eye the bleak heaven, and next the glistening earth, 
 
 With looks of dumb despair; then, sad dispersed, 
 
 Dig for the wither 5 d herb through heaps of snow. 
 
 Now shepherds to your helpless charge be kind, 
 Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens 
 With food at will; lodge them below the storm, 
 And watch them strict; for from the bellowing east, 
 In this dire season, oft the whirlwind's wing 
 Sweeps up the burden of whole wintry plains 270 
 
 At one wide waft, and o'er the hapless flocks, 
 Hid in the hollow of two neigbouring hills, 
 The billowy tempest whelms; till, upward urged, 
 The valley to a shining mountain swells, 
 Tipt with a wreath high-curling in the sky. 
 
 As thus the snows arise; and foul and fierce, 
 All Winter drives along the darken'd air; 
 In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain 
 Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend, 
 Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes, 280 
 
 Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain: 
 Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid 
 Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on 
 From hill to dale, still more and miv astray; 
 Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, 
 
WINTER. 129 
 
 Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home 
 
 Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth 
 
 In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul ! 
 
 What black despair, what horror fills his heart 1 
 
 When for the dusky spot, which fancy fcign'd 290 
 
 His tufted cottage rising through the snow, 
 
 He meets the roughness of the middle waste, 
 
 Far from the track, and blest abode of Man; 
 
 While round him night resistless closes fast, 
 
 And every tempest, howling o'er his head, 
 
 Renders the savage wilderness more wild. 
 
 Then throng the busy shapes into his mind, 
 
 Of cover'd pits, unfathomably deep, 
 
 A dire descent ! beyond the power of frost; 
 
 Of faithless bogs; of precipices huge, 300 
 
 Smooth'd up with snow; and, what is land unknown. 
 
 What water, of the still unfrozen spring, 
 
 In the loose marsh or solitary lake, 
 
 Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils. 
 
 These check his fearful steps: and down he sinks 
 
 Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift, 
 
 Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death; 
 
 Mix'd, with the tender anguish Nature shoots 
 
 Through the wrung bosom of the dying Man, 
 
 His wife, his children, and his friends unseen. 31 
 
 In vain for him th' officious wife prepares 
 
 The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm ; 
 
 In vain his little children, peeping out 
 
 Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, 
 
 With tears of artless innocence. Alas ! 
 
 Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, 
 
 Nor friends, nor sacred home. On every nerve 
 
 The deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense; 
 
 And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold, 
 
 Lays him along the snows, a stiffen' d corse, 320 
 
 Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern blast. 
 
 Ah ! little think the gay licentious proud, 
 Whom pleasure, power and affluence surround: 
 
130 WINTER. 
 
 They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, 
 
 And wanton, often cruel, riot waste: 
 / Ah! little think they, while they dance along, 
 
 How many feel, this very moment, death, 
 
 And all the sad variety of pain ! 
 
 How many sink in the devouring flood, 
 
 Or more devouring flame ! How many bleed, 330 
 
 ]>y shameful variance betwixt Alan and Man! 
 
 How many pine in want, and dungeon-glooms; 
 
 Shut from the common air, and common use 
 
 Of their own limbs! How many drink the cop 
 
 Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread 
 
 Of misery '. Sore pierced by wintry winds, 
 
 How many shrink into the sordid hut 
 
 Of cheerless poverty ! How many shake 
 
 With all the fiercer tortures of the mind, 
 
 Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse; 3 10 
 
 Whence tumbled headlong from the height of life, 
 
 They furnish matter for the tragic Muse ! 
 
 Even in the vale, where wisdom loves to dwell, 
 
 With friendship, peace, and contemplation join'd, 
 
 How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop, 
 
 In deep retired distress ! How many stand 
 
 Around the death-bed of their dearest friends, 
 
 And point the parting anguish ! Thought fond Man 
 
 Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills, 
 5 Tfrat one incessant struggle render life, 3-00 
 
 | Onescene of toil, of suif ermg," and 01 fate, 
 ' Vice in his high career would stand appall'd, 
 ; And heedless rambling Impulse learn to think; 
 
 The conscious heart of Charity would warm, 
 
 And her wide wish Benevolence dilate; 
 
 The social tear would rise, the social sigh; 
 
 And into clear perfection, gradual bliss, 
 1 Refining still, the social passions v, 
 
 And here can I forget the generous band, 
 
 Who, touch'd with human wo, redress! vc searched 3GO 
 
 , Ii.to the horrors of the gloomy jaiU 
 
WINTER. 13] 
 
 Unpitied, and unheard, where misery moans; 
 
 Where sickness pines; where thirst and hunger burn, 
 
 And poor misfortune feels the lash of vice. 
 
 While in the land of liberty, the land 
 
 Whose every street and public meeting glow 
 
 With open freedom, little tyrants raged; 
 
 Snatch'd the lean morsel from the starving mouth; 
 
 Tore from cold wintry limbs the tatter'd weed; 
 
 Even robb'd them of the last of comforts, sleep; 370 
 
 The free-born Briton to the dungeon chain' d, 
 
 Or, as the lust of cruelty prevail'd. 
 
 At pleasure mark'd him with inglorious stripes; 
 
 And crush'd out lives, by secret barbarous ways, 
 
 That for their country would have toil'd, or bled. 
 
 great design ! if executed well, 
 
 With patient care, and wisdom-temper' d zeal. 
 
 Ye sons of mercy! yet resume the search; 
 
 Drag forth the legal monsters into light, 
 
 Wrench from their hands oppression's iron rod, 380 
 
 And bid the cruel feel the pains they give. 
 
 Much still untouch'd remains; in this rank age, 
 Much is the patriot's weedin^hanjdjep^mred. 
 The toils of law (whaf ""dark insidious Men 
 Have cumbrous added to perplex the truth, 
 And lengthen simple justice into trade), 
 How glorious were the day that saw these broke, 
 And every Man within the reach of right ! 
 
 By wintry famine roused, from all the tract 
 Of horrid mountains which the shining Alps, 390 
 
 And wavy Apennines, and Pyrenees, 
 Branch out stupendous into distant lands; 
 Cruel as death, and hungry^ as the grave ! 
 Burning for blood ! bony, and gaunt, and grim ! 
 Assembling wolves in raging troops descend; 
 And, pouring o'er the country, bear along, 
 Keen as the north wind sweeps the glossy snow. 
 All is their prize. They fasten on the steed, 
 Press him to earth, and pierce his mighty heart. 
 
132 WINTER. 
 
 Nor can the bull his awful front defend, 400 
 
 Or shake the murdering savages away. 
 
 Rapacious at the mother's throat they fly, 
 
 And tear the screaming infant from her breast. 
 
 The godlike face of Man avails him nought. 
 
 Kven beauty, force divine ! at whose bright glance 
 
 The generous lion stands in soften'd gaze, 
 
 Here bleeds, a hapless tindistinguish'd prey. 
 
 But if, apprised of the severe attack, 
 
 The country be shut up, lured by the scent, 
 
 On churchyards drear (inhuman to relate !) 410 
 
 The disappointed prowlers fall, and dig 
 
 The shrouded body from the grave; o'er which, 
 
 Mix'd with foul shades and frighted ghosts, they howl. 
 
 Among those hilly regions, where embraced 
 In peaceful vales the happy Orisons dwell; 
 Oft, rushing sudden from the loaded cliffs, 
 Mountains of snow their gathering terrors roll. 
 From steep to steep, loud-thundering down they come, 
 A wintry waste in dire commotion all; 
 And herds, and flocks, and travellers, and swains, 42-) 
 
 And sometimes whole brigades of marching troops, 
 Or hamlets sleeping in the dead of night, 
 Are deep beneath the smothering ruin whelm'd. 
 
 Now, all amid the rigours of the year, 
 In the wild depth of Winter, while without 
 The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat, 
 Between the groaning forest and the shore, 
 Beat by the boundless multitude of waves, 
 A rural, shelter' d, solitary scene; 
 
 Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join, 4oO 
 
 To cheer the gloom. There studious let me sit, 
 And hold high converse with the Mighty Dead, 
 Sages of ancient time, as. gods revered; 
 Is beneficent, who blest mankind 
 With arts, with arms, and humanised a world. 
 Roused at th' inspiring thought, I throw aside 
 The long-lived volume; and, deep-musing, hail 
 
WINTER. 133 
 
 The sacred shades, that, slowly-rising, pass 
 
 Before my wondering eyes. First Socratej^, 
 
 Who, firmly good in a corrupted state, 440 
 
 Against the rage of tyrants single stood, 
 
 Invincible! calm Reason's holy law, 
 
 That Voice of God within tli' attentive mind, 
 
 Obeying, fearless, or in life, or death. 
 
 Great moral teacher ! wisest of Mankind ! 
 
 Sojojajthe next, who built his common- weal 
 
 On equity's wide base: by tender laws 
 
 A lively people curbing, yet undamp'd, 
 
 Preserving still that quick peculiar fire, 
 
 Whence in the laurell'd field of finer arts, 450 
 
 And of bold freedom, they unequal!' d shone, 
 
 The pride of smiling Greece, and human-kind. 
 
 Lycurgus then, who bow'd beneath the force 
 
 Of strictest discipline^ severely wise, 
 
 All human passions. Following him, I see, 
 
 As at Thermopylae he glorious fell, 
 
 The firm Devoted Chief, who proved by deeds 
 
 The hardest lesson which the other taught. 
 
 Then Arij>tides lifts his honest front; 
 
 Spotless of heart, to whom th' unflattering voice 460 
 
 Of freedom gave the noblest name of Just; 
 
 In pure majestic poverty revered; 
 
 WTToy even his .glory" to his country's weal 
 
 Submitting, swell'd a haughty Rival's fame. 
 
 Rear'd by his care, of softer ray appears 
 
 Cimon ? sweet soul'd; whose genius rising strong 
 
 Shook oif the load of young debauch; abroad 
 
 The scourge of Persian pride, at home the friend 
 
 Of every worth and every splendid art; 
 
 Modest, and simple, in the pomp of wealth. 470 
 
 Then the last worthies of declining Greece, 
 
 Late call'd to glory, in unequal times, 
 
 Pensive, appear. The fair Corinthian, boast, 
 
 Timoleon, happy temper! mild and firm, 
 
 Who wept the Brother, while the Tyrant bled. 
 
134 WINTER. 
 
 Ami, equal to the best, the Theban Pair, 
 Whose virtues, in heroic concord join'd, 
 Their country raised to freedom, empire, fame. 
 He too, with whom Athenian honour sunk, 
 And left a mass of sordid lees behind, 480 
 
 Phocion the good; in public life severe; 
 To virtue still inexorably firm; 
 But when, beneath his low illustrious roof, 
 Sweet peace and happy wisdom smooth'd his brow, 
 Not friendship softer was, nor love more kind. 
 And he, the last of old Lycurgus' sons, 
 The generous victim to that vain attempt, 
 To save a rotten state, Agis, who saw 
 Even Sparta's self to servile avarice sunk. 
 The two Achaian heroes close the train: 490 
 
 Aratus, who a while relumed the soul 
 Of fondly-lingering liberty in Greece: 
 And he, her darling as her latest hope, 
 The gallant Philopoemen; who to arms 
 Turn'd the luxurious pomp he could not cure; 
 Or toiling in his farm, a simple swain, 
 Or, bold and skilful, thundering in the field. 
 Of rougher front, a mighty people comej 
 A race ot heroes ! in those virtuous times 
 "Which knew no stain, save that with partial flame 500 
 Their dearest country they too fondly loved: 
 Her better founder first, the light of Rome, 
 Numa, who soften'd her rapacious sons: 
 ^vius the King, who laid the solid base 
 On which o'er earth the vast ivpulilic spread. 
 Then the great Consul.--, venerable rise. 
 The Public Father who the Private quellM, 
 As on the dread tribunal sternly sad. 
 lie, whom his thankless country could not lose, 
 Cainillus, only vengeful to her foes. 510 
 
 Fabrk-ius, scnrner <>f all-c inquiring g<ld; 
 And rim'iimatjis, awful from the pl"ii^h. 
 Thy Willing Victim. Carthage, bursting loose 
 
WINTER. 135 
 
 From all that pleading Nature could oppose, 
 
 From a whole city's tears, by rigid faith 
 
 Imperious call'd, and honour's dire command. 
 
 Scipio, the gentle chief, humanely brave, 
 
 Wlfoljoon the race of spotless glory ran, 
 
 And, warm in youth, to the Poetic shade 
 
 With Friendship and Philosophy retired. 520 
 
 Tully, whose powerful eloquence awhile 
 
 Restrain' d the rapid fate of rushing Rome. 
 
 Unconquer'd Cato, virtuous in. extreme. 
 
 And thou, unhappy Brutus, kind of heart, 
 
 Whose steady arm, by awful virtue urged, 
 
 Lifted the Roman steel against thy Friend. 
 
 Thousands besides, the tribute of a verse 
 
 Demand; but who can count the stars of heaven ? 
 
 Who sing their influence on this lower world 1 
 
 Behold, who yonder comes ! in sober state, 530 
 
 Fair, mild, and strong, as is a vernal sun ] 
 "Tis Phoebus' self, or else the Mantuan Swain ! 
 Great Homer too appears, of daring wing, 
 ParenreT song ! and equal by his side, 
 The British Muse: join'd hand in hand they walk, 
 Darkling, full up the middle steep to fame. 
 Nor absent are those shades, whose skilful touch 
 Pathetic drew th' impassion'd heart, and charm'd 
 Transported Athens with the Moral Scene: 
 Nor those who, tuneful, waked th' enchanting Lyre. 540 
 
 First of your kind, society divine ! 
 Still visit thus my nights, for you reserved, 
 And mount my soaring soul to thoughts like yours. 
 Silence, thou lonely power ! the door be thine; 
 See on the hallow' d hour that none intrude, 
 Save a few .chosen friends, who sometimes deign 
 To bless my humble roof, with sense refined, 
 Learning digested well, exalted faith, 
 Unstudied wit, and humour ever gay, 
 Or from the Muses' hill will Pope descend, 550 
 
 To raise the sacred hour, to bid it smile, 
 
136 WINTER. 
 
 And with the social spirit warm the heart ! 
 For though not sweeter his own Homer sings, 
 Yet is his life the more endearing song. 
 
 Where art thou, Hammond 1 thou the darling pride. 
 The friend and lover of the tuneful throng ! 
 Ah why, dear youth, in all the blooming prime 
 Of vernal genius, where disclosing fast 
 Each active worth, each manly virtue lay, 
 Why wert thou ravish'd from our hope so soon ? 500 
 
 What now avails that noble thirst of fame 
 Which stung thy fervent breast ? that treasured store 
 Of knowledge, early gain'd 1 that eager zeal 
 To serve thy country, glowing in the band 
 Of youthful patriots, who sustain her name ] 
 What now, alas! that life-diffusing charm 
 Of sprightly wit ] that rapture for the Muse, 
 That heart of friendship, and that soul of joy, 
 Which bade with softest light thy virtues smile 1 
 Ah ! only show'd, to check our fond pursuits, 670 
 
 And teach our humbled hopes that life is vain ! 
 in some deep retirement would I pass 
 > The winter-glooms, with friends of pliant .soul, 
 Or blithe^ or solemn, as the theme inspired : 
 With them would search, if Nature's boundless frame 
 | Was call T d, late-rising from the void of night, 
 | Or sprung eternal from th' Eternal Mind; 
 Its Hie, its laws, its progress, and its end. 
 II' nee larger prospects of the beauteous whole 
 Would, gradual, open on our opening minds, foO 
 
 f/And each diffusive harmony unite 
 
 In full perfection, to th' astonish' d eye. 
 ' Then would we try to scan the moral world, 
 Which, though to us it seems < moves, OR 
 
 111 hi_ ; fitted, and impellM, 
 
 By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all 
 Tn gffl|Hi)iiftfinr) The sage historic Muse 
 
 aid next conduct us throne 3 of time: 
 
 Show us how empire grew, declined, and fell^ 
 
 on 
 
WINTER. 137 
 
 In scatter'd states; what makes the nations smile, 590 
 
 Improves their soil, and gives them double suns; 
 
 And why they pine beneath the brightest skies, 
 
 In Nature's richest lap. As thus we talk'd, 
 
 Our hearts would burn within us, would inhale 
 
 That jDortion of^ divinity, that ray 
 
 Of purest heaven, which lights the public soul 
 
 Of patriots -and of heroes. But if 'doom' d, 
 
 la-powerless humble fortune, to repress 
 
 These ardent risings of the kindling soul, 
 
 Then, even superior to ambition, we 600 
 
 Would learn the private virtues; how to glide 
 
 Through shades and plains, along the smoothest stream 
 
 Of rural life: or snatch' d away by hope, 
 
 Through" the dim spaces of futurity, 
 
 With earnest eye anticipate those scenes 
 
 Of happiness and wonder; where the mind, 
 
 Iff endless growth and infinite ascent, 
 
 Rises from state to state, and world to world. 
 
 But when with these the serious thought is foil'd, 
 
 We, shifting for relief, would play the shapes 610 
 
 Of frolic fancy; and incessant form 
 
 Those rapid pictures, that assembled train 
 
 Of Jfleet ideas, never join' d before; 
 
 Whence lively Wit excites to gay surprise, 
 
 Or folly-painting Humour, grave himself, 
 
 Calls Laughter forth, deep-shaking every nervo. 
 
 Meantime the village rouses up the fire 
 While well attested, and as well believed, 
 Heard solemn, goes the goblin-story round 
 Till superstitious horror creeps o'er all. 620 
 
 Or frequent in the sounding hall, thay wake 
 The rural gambol. Rustic mirth goes round: 
 The simple joke that takes the shepherd's heart, 
 Easily pleased; the long loud laugh, sincere; 
 The kiss, snatch'd hasty from the side-long maid, 
 On purpose guardless, or pretending sleep: 
 The leap, the slap, the haul; and, shook to notes 
 
138 WINTI:R. 
 
 Of native music, the respondent dance. 
 
 Thus jocund fleets with them the winter night. 
 
 The city swarms intense. The public haunt, 030 
 
 Full of each theme, and warm with mix'd discourse, 
 Hums indistinct. The sons of riot flo>v 
 Down the loose stream of false enchanted joy, 
 To swift destruction. On the rankled soul 
 The gaming fury falls; and in one gulf 
 Of totaTrulu, honour, virtue, peace, 
 Friends, families, and fortune, headlong sink. 
 Up springs the dance along the lighted dome, 
 Mix'd, and evolved, a thousand sprightly ways. 
 The glittering court effuses every pomp; G40 
 
 The circle ile'epens: beam'd from gaudy robes, 
 Tapers, and sparkling gems, and radiant eyes, 
 A soft effulgence o'er the palace waves: 
 While, a gay insect in his summer-shine^ 
 The fop, light-fluttering, spreads his mealy wings. 
 Dread o'er the scene, the ghost of Hamlet stalks; 
 
 Othello rages; poor Monimia mourns; 
 
 And Belvidera pours her soul in love. 
 
 Terror alarms the breast; the comely tear 
 
 Steals o'er the cheek: or else the Comic Muse 650 
 
 Holds to the world a picture of itself, 
 
 And raises sly the fair impartial laugh. 
 
 Sometimes she lifts her strain, and paints the scenes 
 
 Of beauteous life; whate'er can deck mankind, 
 
 Cr charm the heart, in generous Bevil show'd. 
 thou, whose wisdom, solid yet refined, 
 
 Whose patriot virtues, and consummate skill 
 
 To touch the finer springs that move the world, 
 
 Join'd to whate'er the Graces can bestow, 
 
 And all Apollo's animating fire, 660 
 
 Give thee, with pleasing dignity, to shine 
 
 At once the guardian, ornament, and joy, 
 
 Of polish'd life; permit the Rural Muse, 
 
 O Cui^t'-Tik'l.l ! t> tfrace vith thi-e h'-r snng. 
 
 K;e to the shades again she humbly flies! 
 
WINTER. 139 
 
 Indulge her fond ambition, in thy train 
 
 (For every Muse has in thy train a place), 
 
 To mark thy various full-accomplish' d mind: 
 
 To mark that spirit, which, with British scorn, 
 
 Rejects th' allurements of corrupted power; 670 
 
 That elegant politeness, which excels, 
 
 Even in the judgment of presumptuous France, 
 
 The boasted manners of her sinning court; 
 
 That, wit, the vivid energy of sense, 
 
 The truth of Nature, which, with Attic point, 
 
 And kind, well-temper' d satire, smoothly keen, 
 
 Steals through the soul, and without pain corrects. 
 
 Or, rising thence with yet a brighter flame, 
 
 let me hail thee on some glorious day, 
 
 When to the listening senate, ardent, crowd 680 
 
 Britannia's sons, to hear her pleaded cause. 
 
 Then drest by thee, more amiably fair, 
 
 Truth the soft robe of mild persuasion wears: 
 
 Thou to assenting reason giv*st again 
 
 Her own enlighten'd thoughts: cali'd from the heart, 
 
 Th' obedient passions on thy voice attend; 
 
 And even reluctant party feels awhile 
 
 Thy gracious power: as through the varied maze 
 
 Of eloquence, now smooth, now quick, now strong, 
 
 Profound and clear, you roll the copious flood. GDC 
 
 To thy loved haunt return, my happy Muse: 
 For now, behold, the joyous winter-days, 
 Frosty, succeed; and through the blue serene, 
 For sight too fine, th' ethereal nitre flies, 
 Killing infectious damps, and the spent air 
 Storing afresh with elemental lite. 
 Close crowds the shining atmosphere; and binds 
 Our strengthen'd bodies in its cold embrace, 
 Constringent; feeds, and animates our blood; 
 Refines our spirits, through the new-strung nerves, 700 
 In swifter sallies darting to the brain; 
 Where sits the soul, intense, collected, cool,\ 
 Bright as the skies, and as the season keen. 
 
 L 
 
140 WINTER. 
 
 All Nature feels the renovating force 
 Of Winter, only to the thoughtless eye 
 In ruin seen. The frost-concocted glebe 
 Draws in abundant vegetable soul, 
 And gathers vigour for the coming year. 
 A stronger glow sits on the lively cheek 
 Of ruddy fire; and luculent along 71< 
 
 The purer rivers flow; their sullen deeps, 
 Transparent, open to the shepherd's gaze, 
 And murmur hoarser at the fixing frost. 
 
 What art thou, Frost 1 and whence are thy keen stores 
 Derived, thou secret all-invading power, 
 Whom even th' illusive fluid cannot fly ] 
 Is not thy potent energy unseen, 
 Myriads of little salts, or hook'd, or shaped 
 Like double wedges, and diffused immense 
 Through water, earth, and ether? Hence at eve, 7^< 
 Steam' d eager from the red horizon round, 
 With the fierce rage of Winter deep suffused, 
 An icy gale, oft-shifting, o'er the pool 
 Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career 
 Arrests the bickering stream. The loosen'd ice, 
 Let down the flood, and half-dissolved by day, 
 Rustles no more; but to the sedgy bank 
 Fast grows, or gathers round the pointed stone, 
 A crystal pavement, by the breath of heaven 
 Cemented firm; till, seized from shore to shore, 73C 
 
 The whole imprison'd river growls below. 
 Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects 
 A double noise; while, at his evening watch, 
 The village dog deters the nightly thief; 
 The heifer lows; the distant waterfall 
 Swells in the breeze; and, with the hasty tread 
 Of traveller, the hollow-sounding plain 
 Shakes from afar. The full ethereal round, 
 Infinite worlds disclosing to the view, 
 Shines out intensely kern; and, all one cope 740 
 
 Of starry glitter, glows from pole to pole. 
 
WINTER. 141 
 
 From pole to pole the rigid influence falls, 
 
 Through the still night, incessant, heavy, strong, 
 
 And seizes Nature fast. It freezes on, 
 
 Till Morn, late-rising o'er the drooping world, 
 
 Lifts her pale eye un joyous. Then appears 
 
 The various labour of the silent night: 
 
 Prone from the dripping eave, and dumb cascade, 
 
 Whose idle torrents only seem to roar, 
 
 The pendant icicle; the frostwork fair, 750 
 
 Where transient hues, and fancied figures rise; 
 
 Wide-spouted o'er the hill, the frozen brook, 
 
 A livid tract, cold-gleaming on the morn; 
 
 The forest bent beneath the plumy wave; 
 
 And by the frost refined the whiter snow, 
 
 Incrusted hard, and sounding to the tread 
 
 Of early shepherd, as he pensive seeks 
 
 His pining flock, or from the mountain-top, 
 
 Pleased with the slippery surface, swift descends. 
 On blithesome frolics bent, the youthful swains, 760 
 
 While every work of Man is laid at rest, 
 
 Fond o'er the river crowd, in various sport 
 
 And revelry dissolved; where mixing glad, 
 
 Happiest of all the train ! the raptured boy 
 
 Lashes the whirling top. Or, where the Rhine 
 j BranchVl out in many a long canal extends, 
 
 From every province swarming, void of care, 
 
 Batavia rushes forth; and as they sweep, 
 j On sounding skates, a thousand different ways, 
 
 In circling poise, swift as the winds along, 770 
 
 The then gay land is madden'd all to joy. 
 ] Nor less the northern courts, wide o'er the snow, 
 
 Pour a new pomp. Eager, on rapid sleds, 
 
 Their vigorous youth in bold contention wheel 
 
 The long-resounding course. Meantime, to raise 
 | The manly strife, with highly-blooming charms, 
 [Flush' d by the season, Scandinavia's dames, 
 
 Or Russia's buxom daughters, glow around. 
 
 Pure, quick, and sportful, is the wholesome day: 
 
142 WINTER. 
 
 But soon elapsed. The horizontal sun, 
 
 Broad o'er the south, hangs at his utmost noon, 
 
 And, ineffectual, strikes the gelid cliff: 
 
 His azure glcss the mountain still maintains, 
 
 Nor feels the feeble touch. Perhaps the vale 
 
 Relents awhile to the reflected ray: 
 
 Or from the forest falls the clustered snow, 
 
 Myriads of gems, that in the waving gleam 
 
 Gay twinkle as they scatter. Thick around, 
 
 Thunders the sport of those, who with the gun, 
 
 And dog impatient bounding at the shot, 
 
 Worse than the season, desolate the fields; 
 
 And, adding to the ruins of the year, 
 
 Distress the footed or the feather'd game. 
 
 But what is this 1 Our infant Winter sinks. 
 Divested of his grandeur, should our eye 
 Aston ish'd shoot into the Frigid Zone; 
 Where, for relentless months, continual Night 
 Holds o'er the glittering waste her starry reign. 
 
 There, through the prison of unbounded wilds, 
 Barr'd by the hand of Nature from escape, 
 Wide-roams the Russian exile. Nought around 
 Strikes his sad eye, but deserts lost in snow; 
 And heavy-loaded groves; and solid floods, 
 That stretch, athwart the solitary waste, 
 Their icy horrors to the frozen main ; 
 And cheerless towns, far-distant, never bless' d, 
 Save when its annual course the caravan 
 Bends to the golden coast of rich Cathay; 
 With news of human-kind. Yet there life glows; 
 Yet cherish'd there, beneath the shining waste, 
 The furry nations harbour; tipt with jet, 
 Fair ermines, spotless as the snows they press; 
 Sables, of glossy black ; and dark embrown' d, 
 Or beauteous freak'd with many a mingled hue, 
 Thousands besides, the costly pride of courts. 
 There, warm together press'd, the trooping deer 
 Bleep on the new-fallen snows; and, scarce his h- a 1 
 
WINTER. 143 
 
 Raised o'er the heapy wreath, the branching elk 
 
 Lies slumbering sullen in the white abyss. 
 
 The ruthless hunter wants nor dogs nor toils; 820 
 
 Nor with the dread of sounding bows he drives 
 
 The fearful flying race; with ponderous clubs, 
 
 As weak against the mountain-heaps they push 
 
 Their beating breast in vain, and piteous bray, 
 
 He lays them quivering on th' ensanguined snows, 
 
 And with loud shouts rejoicing bears them home. 
 
 There through the piny forest half-absorpt, 
 
 Rough tenant of these shades, the shapeless bear, 
 
 With dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn, 
 
 Slow-paced, and sourer as the storms increase; 830 
 
 He makes his bed beneath th' inclement drift, 
 
 And, with stern patience, scorning weak complaint, 
 
 Hardens his heart against assailing want. 
 
 "Wide o'er the spacious regions of the north, 
 That see Bootes urge his tardy wain, 
 A boisterous race, by frosty Caurus pierced, 
 Who little pleasure know, and fear no pain, 
 Prolific swarm. They once relumed the flame 
 Of lost mankind in polish'd slavery sunk; 
 Drove martial horde on horde, with dreadful sweep, 840 
 Resistless rushing o'er th' enfeebled south, 
 And gave the vanquish' d world another iorm. 
 
 Not such the sons of Lapland:, wisely they 
 Despise th' insensate barbarous trade of war: 
 They ask no more than simple Nature gives; 
 They love their mountains, and enjoy their storms; 
 No false desires, no pride-created wants, 
 Disturb the peaceful current of their time, 
 And through the restless ever-tortured maze 
 Of pleasure, or ambition, bid it rage. 850 
 
 Their remdeer form their riches. These, their tents, 
 Their robes, their beds, and all their homely wealth, 
 Supply their wholesome fare, and cheerful cups. 
 Obsequious at their call, the docile tribe 
 Yield to the sled their necks, and whirl them swift 
 
144 WINTER. 
 
 O'er hill and dale, heap'd into one expanse 
 
 Of marbled snow, as far as eye can sweep, 
 
 With a blue crust of ice unbounded glazed. 
 
 By dancing meteors then, that ceaseless shake 
 
 A waving blaze refracted o'er the heavens, 860 
 
 And vivid moons, and stars that keener play 
 
 With double lustre from the glossy waste; 
 
 Even in the depth of Polar Night, they find 
 
 A wondrous day: enough to light the chase, 
 
 Or guide their daring steps to Finland fairs. 
 
 Wish'd Spring returns; and from the hazy south, 
 
 While dim Aurora slowly moves before, 
 
 The welcome sun, just verging up at first, 
 
 By small degrees extends the swelling curve; 
 
 Till seen at last for gay rejoicing months, 870 
 
 Still round and round his spiral course he winds; 
 
 And as he nearly dips his flaming orb, 
 
 Wheels up again, and re-ascends the sky. 
 
 In that glad season, from the lakes and floods, 
 
 Where pure Niemi's fairy mountains rise, 
 
 And fringed with roses Tenglio rolls his stream, 
 
 They draw the copious fry. With these, at eve, 
 
 They, cheerful, loaded to their tents repair; 
 
 Where, all day long in useful cares employ'd, 
 
 Their kind unblemish'd wives the fire prepare, 880 
 
 Thrice happy race! by poverty secured 
 
 From legal plunder aud rapacious power: 
 
 In whom fell interest never yet has sowu 
 
 The seeds of vice: whose spotless swains ne'er knew 
 
 Injurious deed; nor, blasted by the breath 
 
 Of faithless love, their blooming daughters wo. 
 
 Still pressing on, beyond Tornea's lake, 
 And Hecla flaming through a waste of snow, 
 And farthest Greenland, to the j.i.!e itself, 
 Where, failing gradual, life at length goes out, 
 The Muse expands her solitary lli;ht; 
 And, hovering o'er the wild stupendous scene, 
 Beholds new seas beneath another sky. 
 
WINTER. 145 
 
 Throned in his palace of cerulean ice, 
 
 Here Winter holds his unreioicing court; 
 
 And through his airy hall the loud misrule 
 
 Of driving tempest is tor ever heard; 
 
 Here the grim tyrant meditates his wrath; 
 
 Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost; 
 
 Moulds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows, 900 
 
 With which he now oppresses hali the globe. 
 
 - Thence winding eastward to the Tartar's coast, 
 
 She sweeps the howling margin of the main, 
 
 Where, undissolving, from the first of time, 
 
 Snows swell on snows amazing to the sky; 
 
 And icy mountains high on mountains piled, 
 
 Seem to the shivering sailor from afar, 
 
 Shapeless and white, an atmosphere of clouds. 
 
 Projected huge and horrid, o'er the surge, 
 
 Alps frown on Alps; or rushing hideous down, 910 
 
 As if old Chaos was again return' d, 
 
 Wide-rend the deep, and shake the solid pole. 
 
 Ocean itself no longer can resist 
 
 The binding fury; but, in all its rage 
 
 Of tempest, taken by the boundless frost, 
 
 Is many a fathom to the bottom chain' d, 
 
 And bid to roar no more: a bleak expanse, 
 
 Sbagg'd o'er with wavy rocks, cheerless, and void 
 
 Of every life, that from the dreary months 
 
 Flies conscious southward. Miserable they, 920 
 
 Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, 
 
 Take their last look of the descending sun; 
 
 While, full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost, 
 
 The long long night, incumbent o'er their heads, 
 
 Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's tate; 
 
 As with first prow (what have not Britons dared!) 
 
 He for the passage sought, attempted since 
 
 So much in vain, and seeming to be shut 
 
 By jealous Nature with eternal bars. 
 
 In these fell regions, in Arzina caught, 930 
 
 And to the stony deep his idle ship 
 
1^6 WINTER. 
 
 Immediate seal'd, he with his hapless crew, 
 Each full exerted at his several task, 
 Froze into statues; to the cordage glued 
 The sailor, and the pilot to the helm. 
 
 Hard by these shores, where scarce his freezing stream 
 Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of Men; 
 And half enliven'd by the distant sun, 
 That rears and ripens Man, as well as plants, 
 Here human Nature wears its rudest form. 94< ) 
 
 Deep from the piercing season sunk in caves, 
 Here by dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer, 
 They waste the tedious gloom. Immersed in furs, 
 Doze the gross race. Nor sprightly jest, nor song, 
 Nor tenderness they know; nor aught of life, 
 Beyond the kindred bears that stalk without, 
 Till morn at length, her roses drooping all, 
 Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their fields, 
 And calls the quiver'd savage to the chase. 
 
 What cannot active government perform, 950 
 
 New-Moulding Man ] Wide-stretching from these shores, 
 A people savage from remotest time, 
 A huge neglected empire, one vast Mind, 
 By Heaven inspired, from Gothic darkness call'd. 
 Immortal Peter ! first of monarchs ! He 
 His stubborn country tamed, her rocks, her fens, 
 Her floods, her seas, her ill-submitting sous; 
 And while the fierce Barbarian he subdued, 
 To more exalted soul he raised the Man. 
 
 Ye shades of ancient heroes ! ye who toil'd 9GO 
 
 Through long successive ages to build up 
 A labouring plan of state, behold at once 
 The wonder done ! behold the matchless prince, 
 Who left his native throne wlim* ri'ign'd till then 
 A mighty shadow of unreal power; 
 Who greatly spurn' d the slothful pomp of courts; 
 And roaming every land, in every port 
 His sceptre laid aside, with glorious hand 
 Unwearied plying the mechanic tool, 
 
WINTER. 147 
 
 Gathered the seeds of trade, of useful arts, 970 
 
 Of civil wisdom, and of martial skill. 
 
 Charged with the stores of Europe home he goes ! 
 
 Then cities rise amid th' illumined waste; 
 
 O'er joyless deserts smiles the rural reign: 
 
 Far-distant flood to flood is social join'd; 
 
 Th' astonish'd Euxine hears the Baltic roar; 
 
 Proud navies ride on seas that never foam'd 
 
 With daring keel before; and armies stretch 
 
 Each way their dazzling files, repressing here 
 
 The frantic Alexander of the north, 980 
 
 And awing there stern Othman's shrinking sons, 
 
 Sloth flies the land, and Ignorance, and Vice, 
 
 Of old dishonour proud: it glows around, 
 
 Taught by the Royal Hand that roused the whole, 
 
 One scene of arts, of arms, of rising trade: 
 
 For what his wisdom plann'd, and power enforced, 
 
 More potent still, his great example show'd. 
 
 Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point, 
 Blow hollow-blustering from the south. Subdued, 
 The frost resolves into a trickling thaw. 990 
 
 Spotted the mountains shine: loose sleet descends, 
 And floods the country round. The rivers swell, 
 Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills, 
 O'er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts, 
 A thousand snow-fed torrents shoot at once; 
 And, where they rush, the wide-resounding plain 
 Is left one slimy waste. Those sullen seas, 
 That wash'd th' ungenial pole, will rest no more 
 Beneath the shackles of the mighty north; 
 But, rousing all their waves, resistless heave. 1000 
 
 And hark ! the lengthening roar continuous runs 
 Athwart the rifted deep: at once it bursts, 
 And piles a thousand mountains to the clouds. 
 
 Ill fares the bark with trembling wretches charged, 
 That, tost amid the floating fragments, moors 
 Beneath the shelter of an icy isle, 
 While night o'erwhelnis the sea, and horror locks 
 
148 WINTER. 
 
 More horrible. Can human force endure 
 
 Th* assembled mischiefs that besiege them round ? 
 
 Heart-gnawing hunger, fainting weariness, 1010 
 
 The roar of winds and waves, the crush of ice, 
 
 Now ceasing, now renew'd with louder rage, 
 
 And in dire echoes bellowing round the main. 
 
 More to embroil the deep, Leviathan 
 
 And his unwieldy train, in dreadful sport, 
 
 Tempest the loosen'd brine; while through the gloom, 
 
 Far from the bleak inhospitable shore, 
 
 Loading the winds, is heard the hungry howl 
 
 Of famish'd monsters, there awaiting wrecks. 
 
 Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye ! 1020 
 
 Looks down with pity on the feeble toil 
 
 Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe, 
 
 Through all this dreary labyrinth of fate. 
 
 'Tis done ! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms, 
 And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year: 
 How dead the vegetable kingdom lies! 
 How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends 
 His desolate domain. Behold, fond Man ! 
 See here thy pictured life: pass some few years, 
 Thy flowering Spring, thy Su miner's ardent strength, 1030 
 Thy sober Autumn fading into age, 
 ^And pale concluding Winter conies at last, 
 And shuts the scene. Ah ! whither now are fled 
 Those dreams of greatness? those unsolid hopes 
 Of happiness ? those longings after fame ? 
 Tbose restless cares? those busy bustling days? 
 Those gay-spent, festive nights ? those veering thoughts 
 tost between good and ill, that shared thy life ? 
 All now are vanish'd ! Virtue sole-survives, 
 Immortal, never-failing friend of Man, 1040 
 
 His guide to happiness on high. And see ! 
 'Tis come, the glorious morn ! the sivml birth 
 Of heaven and earth! awakening Nature hears 
 The new-creating word, and starts t<> life, 
 In everyjieighten'd form, Irom pain and death 
 
 
WINTER. 149 
 
 For ever free. The great eternal scheme, 
 Involving all, and in a perfect whole 
 Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads, 
 To reason's, eye refined clears up apace. 
 
 Ye vainly wise ! ye blind presumptuous! now, 1050 
 
 Confounded in the dust, adore that Power, 
 And Wisdom oft arraign'd: see now the cause, 
 Why unassuming worth in secret lived, 
 And died neglected: why the good man's share 
 In life was gall and bitterness of soul: 
 Why the lone widow and her orphans pined 
 In starving solitude; while luxury, 
 In palaces, lay straining her low thought, 
 To form unreal wants: why heaven-born truth 
 A rui moderation fair, wore the red marks 1060 
 
 Of superstition's scourge: why licensed pain, 
 That cruel spoiler, that emhosom'd foe, 
 Imbitter'd all our bliss. Ye good distrest ! 
 Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand . 
 Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, \ 
 And what your bounded view, which only sawj 
 A little part, deem'd Evil is no more: j 
 
 The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass, 
 And one unbounded Spring encircle alt 
 
A HYMN. 
 
 THESE, as they change, Almighty Father ! these, 
 Are but the varied God. The rolling year 
 Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring 
 Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. 
 Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm; 
 Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles; 
 And every sense, and every heart is joy. 
 Then comes Thy glory in the Summer-months, 
 With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy sun 
 Shoots full perfection through the swelling year; 
 And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks; 
 And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, 
 By brooks and groves, in hollow whispering gales. 
 Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfined, 
 And spreads a common feast for all that lives. 
 In Winter awful Thou ! with clouds and storms 
 Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd, 
 Majestic darkness ! on the whirlwind's wing, 
 Riding sublime, Thou bidd'st the world adore, 
 And humblest Nature with Thy northern blast. 
 
 Mysterious round ! what skill, what force divine, 
 Deep felt, in these appear ! a simple train, 
 Yet so delightful mix'd, with such kind art, 
 Such beauty and beneficence combined; 
 Shade, unperceived, so soitening into shade; 
 And all so forming an harmonious whole; 
 That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. 
 
152 HYMN. 
 
 But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, 
 Man marks not Thee: marks not the mighty hand, 
 That, ever-busy, wheels the silent spheres; 
 Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence 
 The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring: 
 Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; 
 Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth; 
 And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, 
 With transport touches all the springs of life. 
 
 Nature attend ! join every living soul, 
 Beneath the spacious temple of the sky, 
 In adoration join; and, ardent, raise 
 One general song ! To Him, ye vocal gales, 
 Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your freshness breathes; 
 Oh talk of Him in solitary glooms ! 
 Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely-waving pine 
 Fills the brown shade with a religious awe. 
 And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar, 
 Who shake th' astonish'd world, lift high to heaven 
 Th' impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. 
 His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; 
 And let me catch it as I muse along. 
 Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound; 
 Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze 
 Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, 
 A secret world of wonders in thyself, 
 Sound His stupendous praise; whose greater voice 
 Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. 
 Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, 
 In mingled clouds to Him; whose sun exalts, 
 Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints. 
 Ye forests bend; ye harvests wave to Him; 
 Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, 
 As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. 
 Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep 
 Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, 
 Ye constellations, while your angels strike, 
 Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. 
 
HYMN. 153 
 
 Great source of day ! best image here below 
 
 Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, 
 
 From world to world, the vital ocean round, 
 
 On Nature write with every beam His praise. 
 
 The thunder rolls; be hush'd the prostrate world; 
 
 While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. 
 
 Bleat out afresh, ye hills. Ye mossy rocks, 
 
 Retain the sound: the broad responsive low, 
 
 Ye valleys, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns, 
 
 And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. 
 
 Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song 
 
 Bursts from the groves ! and when the restless day, 
 
 Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, 
 
 Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm 
 
 The listening shades, and teach the night His praise. 
 
 Ye chief, for whom the whole creation smiles, 
 
 At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all, 
 
 Crown the great hymn ! in swarming cities vast, 
 
 Assembled men, to the deep organ join 
 
 The long-resounding voice, oft breaking clear, 
 
 At solemn pauses, through the swelling bass; 
 
 And, as each mingling flame increases each, 
 
 In one united ardour rise to heaven. 
 
 Or, if you rather choose the rural shade, 
 
 And find a fane in every sacred grove, 
 
 There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, 
 
 The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, 
 
 Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll. 
 
 For me, when I forget the darling theme, 
 Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray 
 Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, 
 Or Winter rises in the blackening east; 
 Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, 
 And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! 
 
 Should fate command me to the farthest verge 
 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, 
 Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun 
 Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam 
 
154 HYM3. 
 
 Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to mo, 
 
 Since God is ever present, ever felt, 
 
 In the void waste as in the city full; 
 
 And where He vital breathes there must be joy. 
 
 When even at last the solemn hour shall come, 
 
 And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, 
 
 I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers. 
 
 Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go 
 
 Where Universal Love not smiles around, 
 
 Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns; 
 
 From seeming evil still educing good, 
 
 And better thence again, and better still, 
 
 In infinite progression. But I lose 
 
 Myself in Him, in Light ineffable ! 
 
 Coine, then, expressive Silence, muse His praise. 
 
 
CASTLE OE INDOLENCE. 
 
THE 
 
 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 The Castle hight of Indolence, 
 
 And its false luxury; 
 Where for a little time, alas I 
 
 We lived right jollily. 
 
 I. 
 
 MORTAL man, who livest here by toil, 
 Do not complain of this thy harcTeslate; 
 That like an emmet thou must ever moil, 
 Is a sad sentence of an ancient date; 
 And, certes, there is for it reason great; 
 For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail, 
 And curse thy star, and early drudge and late; 
 Withoutenjhat would come a heavier bale, 
 Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale. 
 
 ii. 
 
 In lowly dale, fast by a river's side, 
 With woody hill o'er hill encompassed round, 
 A most enchanting wizard did abide, 
 Than whom a fiend more fell is nowhere found. 
 It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground; 
 And there a season atween June and May, 
 Half prankt with spring, with sumnier half imbrown'd, 
 A listless climate made, where, sooth to say, 
 No living wight could work, ne cared even for play. 
 
 I 
 
158 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 III. 
 
 Was nought around but images of rest: 
 Sleep-soothing groves, and q uie'tT lawns between ; 
 And flowery buds that slumbrous influence kcst, 
 From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant _green ? 
 "Where never yet was cree])iiig creature seen. 
 Meantime, unrmmber'd glittering streamlets play'd, 
 And hurl'd everywhere their waters sheen; 
 That, as they bicker'd through the sunny glade, 
 Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Join'd to the prattle of the purling rills 
 Were heard the bwing herds along the vale, 
 And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills, 
 And vacant shepherds piping in the dale: 
 And, now and then, sweet Philomel would wail, 
 Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep, 
 That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale; 
 And still a coil the grasshopper did keep; 
 Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep. 
 
 v. 
 
 Full in the passage of the vale, above, 
 
 A sable, silent, solemn forest stood; 
 WlnMv nun Jit but shadowy forms were seen to mov 
 As Id less fancied in lief -dreaming mood: 
 And up the hills, on either side, a wood 
 Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro, 
 Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood; 
 And where this valley winded out, below, 
 The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard to 1 
 
 vr. 
 
 A pleasing land of drowsy head it was, 
 Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye; 
 And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, 
 For ever Hushing round a summer-sky: 
 

CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 159 
 
 There eke the soft delights, that witchingly 
 Instil a wanton sweetness through the breast. 
 And the calm pleasures always hover'd nigh; 
 But whate'er smack'd of noyance, or unrest, 
 Was far far off exDell'd from this delicious nest. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The landscape such, inspiring perfect case, 
 Where INDOLENCE (for so the wizard hight) 
 Close-hid his castle 'mid embowei ing trees, 
 That half shut out the beams of Phoebus bright, 
 And made a kind of chequer'd day and night; 
 Meanwhile, unceasing at the massy gate, 
 Beneath a spacious palm, the wicked wight 
 Was placed; and to his lute, of cruel fate 
 And labour harsh, complain'd ; lamenting man's estate. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Thither continua. pilgrims crowded still, 
 From all the roads of eartn that pass there by: 
 For, as they chaunced to breathe on neighbouring hill, 
 The freshness of this valley smote their eye, 
 And drew them ever and anon more nigh; 
 Till clustering round the enchanter false they hung. 
 Yjnolten with his syren melody; 
 While o'er the enfeebling lute his hand he flung, 
 And to the trembling chords these tempting verses sung: 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Behold ! ye pilgrims of this earth, behold ! 
 See all, but man, with unearn'd pleasure gay: 
 See her bright robes th&.butlerfly unfold, 
 Broke from her wintry tomb in prime of May! 
 What youthful bride can equal her array I 
 Who can with her for easy pleasure vie I 
 From mead to mead with gentle wing to stray, 
 From flower to flower on balmy gales to fly, 
 L all she has to do beneath the radiant sky. 
 
160 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 X. 
 
 " Behold the merry minstrels of the moio, 
 The swarming songsters of the careless grove, 
 Ten thousand throats ! that, from the flowering thorn, 
 Hymn their good G d, and carol sweet of love, 
 Such grateful kindly raptures them emove: 
 They neither plough, nor sow; ne, fit for flail, 
 E'er to the barn the nodden sheaves thoy drove: 
 Yet theirs each harvest dancing in the gale, 
 Whatever crowns the hill, or smiles along the vale. 
 
 XI. 
 
 "Outcast of nature, man! the wretched thrall 
 Of bitter dropping sweat, of sweltry pain, 
 Of cares that eat away the heart with gall, 
 And of the vices, an inhuman train, 
 That all proceed from sivage thirst of gain: 
 For when hard-hearted interest first began 
 To poison earth, Astnea left the plain; 
 Guile, violence,. and murder seized on man, 
 And, for sofc milky streams, with blood the rivers ran. 
 
 XII. 
 
 "Come, ye who still the cumbrous load of life 
 Push hard up hill; but as the furthest steep 
 You trust to gain, and put an end to strife, 
 Down thunders back the stone with mighty sweep, 
 And hurls your labours to the valley deep, 
 For ever vain: come, and withouten fee, 
 I in. oblivjoiuivill your sorrows steep, 
 Your cares, your toils; will steep you in a sea 
 Of full delight: come, ye weary wights, to me! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 "With me, you need not rise at early dawn, 
 To pass the joyless day in various stounds: 
 Or, louting low, on upstart fortune fawn, 
 And sell iair honoui for some paltry pounds; 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 161 
 
 Or through the city take your dirty rounds, 
 To cheat, and dun, and lie, and visit pay, 
 Now flattering base, now giving secret wounds; 
 Or prowl in courts of law for human prey, 
 In venal senate thieve, or rob on broad highway. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 "No cocks, with me, to rustic labour call, 
 From village on to village sounding clear; 
 To tardy swain no shrill- voiced matrons squall; 
 No dogs, no babes, no wives, to stun your ear; 
 No hammers thump; no horrid blacksmith sear. 
 Ne noisy tradesman your sweet slumbers start, 
 With sounds that are a misery to hear: 
 But all is calm, as would delight the heart 
 Of Sybarite of old, all nature, and all art. 
 
 xv. 
 
 "Here nought but candour reigns, indulgent ease^ 
 Good-natured lounging, sauntering up and down: 
 They who are pleased themselves must always please; 
 On others' ways they never squint a frown, 
 Nor heed what haps in hamlet or in town: 
 Thus, from the source of tender Indolence, 
 With milky blood the heaft is overflown, 
 Is soothed and sweeten'd by the social sense; 
 For interest, envy, pride, and strife are banish'd hence. 
 
 "What, what is virtue, but repose of mind, 
 A pure ethereal calm, that knows no storm; 
 Above the reach of wild ambition's wind; 
 Above those passions that this world deform, 
 And torture man, a proud malignant worm 1 
 But here, instead, soft gales of passion play, 
 And gently stir the heart, thereby to form 
 A quicker sense of joy; as breezes stray 
 Aross the enlivened skies, and make them still more gay. 
 
162 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " The best of men have ever loved repose: 
 They hate to mingle in the filthy fray; 
 Where the soul sours, and gradual rancour grows> 
 Imbitter'd more from peevish day to day. 
 E'en those whom fame has lent her fairest ray, 
 The most renown'd of worthy wights of yore, 
 From a base world at last have stolen away; 
 So Scipio, to the soft Cumaean shore 
 Retiring, tasted joy he never knew before. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 "But if a little exercise, jou choose, 
 Some zest for ease, 'tis not forbidden here: 
 Amid the groves you may indulge the Muse, 
 Or tend the blooms, and deck the vernal year; 
 Or softly stealing, with your watery gear, 
 Along the brooks, the crimson-spotted fry 
 You may delude; the whilst, amused, you hear 
 Now the hoarse stream, and now the zephyr's sigh, 
 Attuned to the birds, and woodland melody. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 "0 grievous folly ! to heap up estate, 
 Losing the days you see beneath the sun; 
 When, sudden, comes blind unrelenting fate, 
 And gives the untasted portion you have won 
 With ruthless toil, and many a wretch undone, 
 To those who mock you, gone to Pluto's reign, 
 There with sad ghosts to pine, and shadows dun: 
 But sure it is of vanities most vain, 
 To toil for what you here untoiling may obtain." 
 
 xx. 
 
 He ceased. But still their trembling ears retained 
 The deep vibrations of his witching song; 
 That, by a kind of magic power, constrain'd 
 To enter in, pell-mell, the listening throng. 
 
CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 163 
 
 Heaps pour'd on heaps, and yet they slipt along, 
 In silent ease; as when beneath the beam 
 Of summer-moons, the distant woods among, 
 Or by some flood all silver'd with the gleam, 
 The soft-embodied fays through airy portal stream: 
 
 XXI. 
 
 By the smooth demon so it ordered was, 
 And here his baneful bounty first began: 
 Though some there were who would not farther pass, 
 And his alluring baits suspected han. 
 The wise distrust the too fair-spoken man. 
 Yet through the gate they cast a wishful eye: 
 Not to move on, perdie, is all they can: 
 For do their very best they cannot fly, 
 But often each way look, and often sorely sigh. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 When this the watchful wicked wizard saw, 
 With sudden spring he leap'd upon them straight; 
 And soon as touch'd by his tmhallow'd paw, 
 They found themselves within the cursed gate; 
 Full hard to be repass'd, like that of fate. 
 Not stronger were of old the giant crew, 
 Who sought to pull high Jove from regal state 
 Though feeble wretch he seem'd, of sallow hue: 
 Certes, who bides his grasp, will that encounter rue. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 For whomsoever the villain takes in hand, 
 Their joints unknit, their sinews melt apace; 
 As lithe they grow as any willow-wand, 
 And of their vanish'd force remains no trace: 
 So when a maiden fair, of modest grace, 
 In all her buxom blooming May of charms, 
 Is seized in some losel's hot embrace, 
 She waxeth very weakly as she warms, 
 Then sighing yields her up to love's delicious harms. 
 
164 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Waked by the crowd, slow from his bench arose 
 A comely, full-spread porter, swolu with sleep: 
 His calm, broad, thoughtless aspect breathed repose: 
 And in sweet torpcr he was plunged deep, 
 Ne could himself from ceaseless yawning keep; 
 While o'er his eyes the drowsy liquor ran, 
 Through which his half- waked soul would faintly peep: 
 Then taking his black staff, he call'd his man, 
 And roused himself as much as rouse himself he can. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The lad leap'd lightly at his master's call: 
 He was, to weet, a little roguish page, 
 Save sleep and play who minded nought at all, 
 Like most the untaught striplings of his age: 
 This boy he kept each band to disengage, 
 Garters and buckles, task for him unfit, 
 But ill becoming his grave personage, 
 And which his portly paunch would nrt permit; 
 So this same limber page to all performed it. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Meantime, the master-porter wide display'd 
 Great store of caps, of slippers, and of gowus; 
 Wherewith he those who enter'd in array' d 
 Loose, as the breeze that plays along the downs, 
 And waves the summer woods when evening frowns; 
 fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein, 
 But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns, 
 And heightens ease with grace. This done, right fain, 
 Sir porter sat him. down, and turn'd to sleep again. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Thus easy robed, they to the fountain sped 
 That in the middle of the court up-threw 
 A stream, high spouting from its liquid bed, 
 And falling back again in drizzly dew; 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 165 
 
 There each deep draughts, as deep he thirsted, drew; 
 It was a fountain of nepenthe rare; 
 Whence, as Dan Homer sings, huge pleasance grew, 
 And sweet oblivion of vile earthly care; 
 Fair gladsome waking thoughts, and joyous dreams more fair. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 This right perform'd, all inly pleased and still, 
 Withouten tromp, was proclamation made: 
 "Ye sons of Indolence, do what you will; 
 And wander where you list, through hall or glade; 
 Be no man's pleasure for another staid; 
 Let each as likes him best his hours employ, 
 And cursed be he who minds his neighbour's trade! 
 Here dwells kind ease and unrep roving joy: 
 He little merits bliss who others can annoy." 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Straight of these endless numbers, swarming round, 
 As thick as idle motes in sunny ray, 
 Not one eftsoons in view was to be found, 
 But every man stroll'd off his own glad way, 
 Wide o'er this ample court's blank area, 
 With all the lodges that thereto pertain' d, 
 No living creature could be seen to stray; 
 While solitude, and pen'ect silence reign'd; 
 So that to think you dreamt you almost was constrain'd. 
 
 As when a shepherd of the Hebrid-Isles,* 
 Placed far amid the melancholy main 
 (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles; 
 Or that aerial beings sometimes deign 
 To stand, embodied, to our senses plain), 
 Sees on the naked hill, or valley low, 
 The whilst in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, 
 
 * Those isles on the W. coast of Scotland, called the Hebrides. 
 
r 
 
 1G6 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 A vast assembly moving to and fro: 
 Then all at once in air dissolves the wondrous show. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Ye gods of quiet, and of sleep profound! 
 Whose soft dominion o'er this castle sways, 
 And all the widely silent places round, 
 Forgive me, if my trembling pen displays 
 What never yet was sung in mortal lays. 
 But how shall I attempt such arduous string ? 
 I who have spent my nights, and nightly day?, 
 In this soul-deadening place loose-loitering: 
 ,AhJ how shall I for this uprear my moulted whig? 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Come on, my muse, nor stoop to low despair 
 Thou imp of Jove, touch'd by celestial fire ! 
 Thou yet shalt sing of war, and actions fan* 
 Which the bold sons of Britain will inspire, 
 Of ancient bards thoti yet shalt sweep the lyre; 
 Tjiou yet shalt tread in tragic pall the stage, 
 Paint love's enchanting woes, the hero's ire, 
 The sage's calm, the patriot's noble rage, 
 Dashing corruption down through every worthless age. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The doors, that knew no shrill alarming bell, 
 Ne cursed knocker plied by villain's hand, 
 Self-open* J into halls, where, who can tell 
 What elegance and grandeur wide expand; 
 The pride of Turkey and of Persia land ] 
 Soft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets spread, 
 And couches stretch'd around in seemly band; 
 And endless pillows rise to prop the head; 
 Bo that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed; 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And everywhere huge cover'd tables stood, 
 
 With wines high-flavour'd and rich viands crown'd; 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 167 
 
 Whatever sprightly juice or tasteful food 
 On the green bosom of this earth are found, 
 And all old ocean 'genders in his round: 
 Some hand unseen these silently display' d, 
 Even undemanded by a sign or sound; 
 You need but wish, and, instantly obey'd, 
 Fair ranged the dishes rose, and thick the glasses play'd. 
 
 Here freedom reign'd, withouiJh^Jeast_ajloy; 
 Nor gossip's tale, nor ancient maiden's gall, 
 Nor saintly spleen durst murmur at our joy, 
 And with envenom'd tongue our pleasures pall. 
 For why 1 there was but one great rule for all; 
 To wit, that each- should jwprk his own desire, 
 And eat, drink, study,, sleep, as it may fall, 
 Or melt the time in love, or wake the Ijre, 
 And carol what, unbid, the muses might inspire. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 The rooms with costly tapestry were hung, 
 Where was inwoven many a gentle tale; 
 Such as of oldJUgjcural poets sung, 
 Or of Arcadian or Siciliajutale: 
 BecliniugJoxe^Jn the lonely dale, 
 Pour'd forth at large the sweetly tortured heart; 
 Or, sighing tender passion, swell'd the gale, 
 And taught charm'd echo to resound their smart; 
 While flocks, woods, streams around, repose and peace impart. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Those pleased the most, where, by a cunning hand, 
 Depainted was the patriarchal age; 
 What time Dan Abraham left the Chaldee land, 
 And pastured on from verdant stage to stage, 
 Where fields and fountains fresh could best engage. 
 Toil was not then: of nothing took they heed, 
 But with wild beasts the sylvan war to wage, 
 
168 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 And o'er vast plains their herds and flocks to feed: 
 Bless'd sons of nature they ! true golden age indeed ! 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Sometimes the pencil, in cool airy halls, 
 Bade the gay bloom of vernal landscapes rise, 
 Or Autumn's varied shades imbrown the walls: 
 Now the black tempest strikes the astonish' d eyes; 
 Now down the steep the flashing torrent flies; 
 The trembling sun now plays o'er ocean blue, 
 And now rude mountains frown amid the skies; 
 Whate'er Lorraine light-touch'd with softening hue, 
 Or savage Rosa dash'd, or learned Poussin drew. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Each sound too here to languishment inclined, 
 Lull'd the weak bosom, and induced ease: 
 Aerial music in the warbling wind, 
 At distance rising oft, by small degrees, 
 Nearer and nearer came, till o'er the trees 
 It hung, and breathed such soul-dissolving airs, 
 As did, alas ! with soft perdition please: 
 Entangled deep in its enchanting snares, 
 The listening heart forgot all duties and all cares. 
 
 XL. 
 
 A certain music, never known before, 
 Here lull'd the pensive, melancholy mind; 
 Full easily obtain' d. Behoves no more, 
 But sidelong, to the gently waving wind, 
 To lay the well tuned instrument reclined; 
 From which, with airy flying fingers light, 
 Beyond each mortal touch the most refined, 
 The god of winds drew sounds of deep (Might: 
 Whence, with just cause, the harp of jEolus it hight.* 
 
 * The 2Eolian harp, here designated, has been greatly in;; 
 in its structure by a kindred poet, the author of " The Farmer': 
 Boy." 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 169 
 
 Ah me ! what hand can touch the string so fine ? 
 Who up the lofty diapason roll 
 Such sweet, such sad, such solemn airs divine, 
 Then let them down again into the soul: 
 Now rising love they fann'd; now pleasing dole 
 They breathed, in tender musings, through the heart; 
 And now a graver sacred strain they stole, 
 As when seraphic hands a hymn impart: 
 Wild warbling nature all, above the reach of art > 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Such the gay splendour, the luxurious state, 
 Of Caliphs old, who on the Tigris' shore, 
 In mighty Bagdat, populous and great, 
 Held their bright court, where was of ladies store; 
 And verse, love, music, still the garland wore: 
 When sleep was coy, the bard,* in waiting there, 
 Cheer'd the lone midnight with the muse's lore; 
 Composing music bade his dreams be fair, 
 And music lent new gladness to the morning air. 
 
 Near the pavilions where we slept, still ran 
 Soft tinkling streams, and dashing waters fell, 
 And sobbing breezes sigh'd, and oft began 
 (So work'd the wizard) wintry storms to swell, 
 As heaven and earth they would together mell: 
 At doors and windows, threatening, scem'd to call 
 The demons of the tempest, growling fell, 
 Yet the least entrance found they none at all; 
 
 Whence sweeter grew our sleep, secure in massy hall. 
 
 J 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 And hither Morpheus sent his kindest dreams, 
 Raising a world of gayer tinct and grace; 
 
 * The Arabian Caliphs had poets among the officers of theii 
 court, whose office it was to do wluxt is here described. 
 
170 CASTLE OP IXDOLEXCE. 
 
 O'er which were shadowy cast elysian gleams, 
 That play'd, in waving lights, from place to place, 
 And shed a roseate smile on nature's face. 
 Not Titian's pencil e'er could so array, 
 So fleece with clouds the pure ethereal space; 
 Ne could it e'er such melting forms display, 
 As loose on flowery beds all languishingly lay. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 No, fair illusions ! artful phantoms, no ! 
 My Muse will not attempt your fairy land: 
 She has no colours that like you can glow: 
 To catch your vivid scenes, too gross her hand. 
 But sure it is, was ne'er a subtler band 
 Than these same guileful, angel-seeming sprights, 
 Who thus in dreams voluptuous, soft, and bland, 
 Pour'd all the Arabian heaven upon our nights, 
 And bless'd them oft besides with more refined delights. 
 
 XLTI. 
 
 They were, in sooth, a most enchanting train, 
 Even feigning virtue; skilful to unite 
 With evil good, and strew with pleasure pain. 
 But for those fiends, whom blood and broils delight; 
 Who hurl the wretch, as if to hell outright, 
 Down down black gulfs, where sullen waters sleep, 
 Or hold him clambering all the fearful night 
 On beetling cliffs, or pent in ruins deep; 
 They, till due time should serve, were bid far hence to keep* 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Ye guardian spirits, to whom man is dear, 
 { From these foul demons shield the midnight gloom: 
 Angels of fancy and of love, be near, 
 And o'er the blank of sleep diffuse a bloom: 
 Evoke the sacred shades of Greece and Rome, 
 And let them virtue with a look impart: 
 But chief, awhile, ! lend us from the tomb 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 171 
 
 Those long-lost friends for whom in love we smart, 
 And fill with pious awe and joy-mix'd wo the heart. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Or are you sportive Bid the morn of youth 
 
 Rise to new light, and beani afresh the days 
 Of innocence, simplicity, arid truth; 
 To cares estranged, and manhood's thorny ways 
 What transport, to retrace our boyish plays, 
 Our easy bliss, when each thing joy supplied; 
 The woods, the mountains, and the warbling maze 
 Of the wild brooks ! but, fondly wandering wide, 
 My Muse, resume the task that yet doth thee abide. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 One great amusement of our household was, 
 In a huge crystal magic globe to spy, 
 Still as you turn'd it, all things that do pass 
 Upcn this ant-hill earth; where constantly 
 Of idle busy men the restless fry 
 Run bustling to arid fro with foolish haste, 
 In search of pleasures vain that from them fly, 
 Or which, obtain'd, the caitiffs dare not taste: 
 When nothing is enjoy' d, can there be greater waste ? 
 
 he mirror," this, was. 
 
 Here, you a muckworm of the town might see, 
 At his dull desk, amid his ledgers stall' d, 
 Eat up with carking care and penury; 
 Most like to carcase parch'd on gallow-tree. 
 "A penny save-1 is a penny got:" 
 Firm to this scoundrel maxim keepeth he, 
 Ne of its rigour will he bate a jot, 
 Till it has quench'd his fire, and banished his pot. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Straight from the filtji of this Jjpw, grub, behold ! 
 Comes fluttering forth a gaudy spendthrift he. 
 
172 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 All glossy gay, enamell'd all with gold, 
 The silly tenant of the summer air, 
 In folly lost, of nothing takes he care; 
 Pimps, lawyers, stewards, harlots, flatterers vile, 
 And thieving tradesmen, him among them share; 
 His father's ghost from limbo lake, the while, 
 Sees this, which more damnation doth upon him pile. 
 
 This globe portray'd the race of learn' d men, 
 Still at their books, and turning o'er the page, 
 Backwards and forwards: oft they snatch the pen, 
 As if inspired, and in a Thespian rage; 
 Then write, and blot, as would your ruth engage: 
 Why, authors, all this scrawl and scribbling sore ? 
 To lose the present, gain the future age, 
 Praised to be when you can hear no more, 
 And much enrich'd with fame, when useless worldly sto 
 
 LIU. 
 
 Then would a splendid city rise to view, 
 With carts, and cars, and coaches roaring all: 
 Wide-pour'd abroad behold the giddy crew: 
 See how they dash along from wall to wall t 
 At every door, hark how they thundering call ! 
 Good lord ! what can this giddy rout excite ] 
 Why, on each other with fell tooth to fall; 
 A neighbour's fortune, fame, or peace to blight, 
 And make new tiresome parties for the coming night. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 The puzzling sons of party next appcar*d, 
 
 In dark cabals and nightly juntos met; 
 
 And now they whisper'd close, now shrugging rear'd 
 
 The important shoulder; then, as if to get 
 
 New light, their twinkling eyes were inward set. 
 
 No sooner Lucifer* recalls affairs, 
 
 * The Morning Star. 
 
CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 173 
 
 Than forth they various rush in mighty fret; 
 
 When lo! push'd up to power, and crown'd their 
 
 cares, 
 In comes another set, and kicketh them down stairs. 
 
 LV. 
 
 But what most show'd the vanity of life, 
 "Was to behold the nations all on fire, 
 In cruel broils engaged, and deadly strife: 
 Most Christian kings, inflamed by black desire, 
 With honourable ruffians in their hire, 
 Cause war to rage, and blood around to pour; 
 Of this sad work when each begins to tire, 
 Then sit them down just where they were before, 
 Till for new scenes of wo peace shall their force re- 
 store. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 To number up the thousands dwelling here, 
 A useless were, and eke an endless task; 
 From kings, and those who at the helm appear, 
 To gipsies brown in summer-glades who bask. 
 Yea many a man, perdie, I could unmask, 
 Whose desk and table make a solemn show, 
 With tape-tied trash, and suits of fools that ask 
 For place or pension laid in decent row; 
 But these I passen by, with nameless numbers moe. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Of all the gentle tenants of the place, 
 There was a.jaan of s&aaLgrave remark; 
 A certain tender gloom o'erspread his face. 
 Pensive, not sad; in thought involved, not dark; 
 As soot this man could sing as morning lark, 
 And teach the noblest morals of the heart: 
 But these his talents were yburied stark; 
 Of the fine stores he nothing would impart, 
 Which or boon nature gave, or nature painting art. 
 
174 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 To noontide shades incontinent he ran, 
 Where purls the brook with sleep-inviting sound; 
 Or when Dan Sol to slope his wheels began, 
 Amid the broom he bask'd him on the ground, 
 Where the wild thyme and camomile are found: 
 There would he linger, till the latest ray 
 Of light sat trembling on the welkin's bound; 
 Then homeward through the twilight shadows stray, 
 Sauntering and slow. So had he pass'd many a day. 
 
 LTX. 
 
 Yet not in thoughtless slumber were they pass'd: 
 For oft the hea-waty-fire^ that lay conceal' d 
 Beneath the sleeping embers, mounted fast, 
 And .all its native light anew reveal'd: 
 Oft as he traversed the cerulean field, 
 And mark'd the clouds that drove before the wind, 
 Ten thousand glorious systems would h.e_ Jjuild, 
 Ten thousand great ideaa-fill'd Jiis minji; 
 But with the clouds they fled, and left no trace behiud. 
 
 LX 
 
 With him was sometimes join'd, in silent walk 
 (Profoundly silent, for they never spoke), 
 One* shyer still, who quite detested talk: 
 Oft, stung by spleen, at once away he broke, 
 To groves of pine, and broad o'ershadowing oak; 
 There, inly thrill* J, he wander'd all alone, 
 And on himself his pensive fury wroke, 
 Ne ever utter*d word, save when first shone 
 The glittering star of eve " Thank heaven ! the day is done 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Here lurk'd a mstch, who had not crept abroad 
 For forty years, ne face of mortal seen; 
 
 * Conjecture has applied this to Dr Armstrong, the poet. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 175 
 
 In chamber brooding like a I 
 And sure his linen was not very clean. 
 Through secret loopholes, that had practised been, 
 Near to his bed his dinner vile he took; 
 Unkempt, and rough, of squalid face and mien, 
 Our Castle's shame! whence, from his filthy nook, 
 We drove the villain out for fitter lair to look. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 One day there chanced into these halls to rove 
 A joyous youth, who took you at first sight; 
 Him the wild wave of pleasure hither drove, 
 Before the sprightly tempest tossing light: 
 Certes, he was a most engaging wight, 
 Of social glee, and wit humane though keen, 
 Turning the night to day, and day to night: 
 For him the merry bells had rung, I ween, 
 If in this nook of quiet bells had ever been. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 But not e'en pleasure to excess is good: 
 What most elates, then sinks the soul as low: 
 When springtide joy pours in with copious flood, 
 The higher still the exulting billows flow, 
 The further back again they flagging go, 
 And leave us grovelling on the dreary shore: 
 Taught by this son of joy, we found it so; 
 Who, whilst he staid, he kept in gay uproar 
 Our madden'd castle all, the abode of sleep no more. 
 
 As when in prime of June a burnish' d fly, 
 Sprung from the meads, o'er which he sweeps along, 
 Cheer'd by the breathing bloom and vital sky, 
 Tunes up amid these airy halls his song, 
 Soothing at first the gay reposing throng: 
 And oft he sips their bowl; or nearly drown'd, 
 He, thence recovering, drives their beds among, 
 
176 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 And scares their tender sleep, with trump profound; 
 - Then out again he flies, to wing his mazy round. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Another guest* there was, of sense refined, 
 Who felt each worth, for every worth he had; 
 Serene yet warm, humane yet firm his mind, 
 As little touch'd as any man's with bad; 
 Him through their inmost walks the Muses lad. 
 To him the sacred love of nature lent, 
 And sometimes would he make our valley glad; 
 Whenas we found he would not here be pent, 
 To him the better sort this friendly message sent: 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 " Come, dwell with us ! true son of virtue, come ! 
 But if, alas ! we cannot thee persuade 
 To lie content beneath our peaceful dome, 
 Ne evermore to quit our quiet glade; 
 Yet when at last thy toils but ill apaid 
 Shall dead thy fire, and damp its heavenly spark, 
 Thou wilt be glad to seek the rural shade, 
 There to indulge the muse, and nature mark: 
 We then a lodge for thee will rear in Hagley Park." 
 
 LXV1I. 
 
 Here whilom ligg'd the Esopust of the age; 
 But call'd by fame, in soul yprh-keil doq>, 
 A noble pride resto 1 ed him to the stage, 
 And reused him like a giant from his sleep. 
 Even from his slumbers we advantage reap: 
 With double force the enlivcn'd scene he wakes, 
 Yet quits not nature's bounds. He knows to keep 
 Each due decorum: now the heart he slm 
 And now with well urged sense the enlighten'd judgment 
 takes. 
 
 * George, Lord Lyttelton. f Mr Quin. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 177 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard beseems; 
 W55^~void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, 
 On jarjuejstill, and nature' sj^leasjng themes, 
 Pour'd forth his unpremeditated strain: 
 The world forsaking with a caTm^nMam^ 
 Here laugh'd he careless in his easy seat; 
 Here quaff'd, encircled with the joyous train, 
 Oft moralising sage: his ditty sweet 
 He loathed much to write, ne cared to repeat. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Full oft by holy feet our ground was trod, 
 Of clerks good plenty here you mote espy. 
 A little, round, fat, oily mant of God, 
 Was one I chiefly mark'd among the fry: 
 He had a roguish twinkle in his eye, 
 And shone all glittering with ungodly dew, 
 If a tight damsel chanced to trippen by; 
 Which, when observed, he shrunk into his mew, 
 And straight would recollect his piety anew. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Nor be forgot a tribe who minded nought 
 (Old inmates of the place) but state-affairs: 
 They look'd, perdie, as if they deeply thought; 
 And on their brow sat every nation's cares; 
 The world by them is parcell'd out in shares, 
 When in the Hall of Smoke they congress hold, 
 And the sage berry, sun-burnt Mocha bears, 
 Has clear'd their inward eye: then, smoke-enroll' d, 
 Their oracles break forth mysterious as of old. 
 
 * The following lines of this stanza were writ by a friend of 
 the author (since understood to have been Lord Lyttelton), and 
 were designed to portray the character of Thomson. 
 
 t The Rev. Mr Murdoch, Thomson's friend and biographer. 
 
178 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Here languid Beauty kept her pale-faced court: 
 Bevies of dainty dames, of high degree, 
 From every quarter hither made resort; 
 Where, from gross mortal care and business free, 
 They lay, pour'd out in ease and luxury. 
 Or should they a vain show of work assume, 
 Alas ! and well-a-day ! what can it be 1 
 
 . To knot, to twist, to range the vernal bloom; 
 
 But far is cast the distaft, spinning-wheel, and loom. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Their only labour was to kill the time 
 (And labour dire it is, and weary wo) ; 
 They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme; 
 Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go, 
 Or saunter forth, with tottering step and slow: 
 This soon too rude an exercise they find; 
 Straight on the couch their limbs again they throw, 
 Where hours on hours they sighing lie reclined, 
 And court the vapoury god, soft breathing hi the wind.* 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Now must I mark the yill^y WP found, 
 But ah ! too late, as shall eftsoons be shown. 
 A place here was, deep, dreary, under ground; 
 Where still our inmates, when unpleasing grown, 
 
 * After this stanza, the following one was introduced, in the 
 edition of 1746: 
 
 One nymph there was, methought, in bloom of May, 
 On whom the idle Fiend glanced many a look, 
 In hopes to lead her down the slippery way 
 To taste of Pleasure's deep deceitful brook: 
 No virtues yet her gentle mind forsook: 
 No idle whims, no vapours fill'd her brain, 
 But Prudence for her youthful guide she took, 
 And Goodness, which no earthly vice could stnin, 
 Dwelt in her mind; she was ne proud I ween or vain. 
 
CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 179 
 
 Diseased, and loathsome, privily were thrown: 
 Far from the light of heaven, they languish's there, 
 Unpitied uttering many a bitter groan; 
 For of these wretches taken was no care: 
 Fierce fiends, and hags of hell, their only nurses were. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Alas ! the change ! from scenes of joy and rest, 
 To this dark den, where sickness toss'd alway. 
 Here Letharg^with deadly sleep oppress' d, 
 Stretch'cT on his back, a mighty lubbard, lay, 
 Heaving his sides, and snored night and day; 
 To stir him from his traunce it was not eath, 
 And his half open'd eyne he shut straightway; 
 He led, I wot, the softest way to death, 
 And taught withouten pain and strife to yield the breath. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Of limbs enormous, but withal unsound, 
 Soft-swoln and pale, here lay the Hydropsy: 
 Unwieldy man; with belly monstrous round, 
 For ever fed with watery supply; 
 For still he drank, and yet he still was dry. 
 And moping here did Hypochondria sit, 
 Mother of spleen, in robes of various dye, 
 Who vexed was fall oft with ugly fit; 
 And some her frantic deem'd, and some her deem'd a wit. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 A lady proud she was, of ancient blood, 
 Yet oft her fear her pride made crouchen low: 
 She felt, or fancied in her fluttering mood, 
 All the diseases which the spittles know, 
 And sought all physic which the shops bestow, 
 And still new leeches and new drugs would try, 
 Her humour ever wavering to and fro; 
 For sometimes she would laugh, and sometimes cry, 
 Then sudden waxed wroth, and all she knew not why. 
 
180 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Fast by her side a listless maiden pined, 
 With aching head, and squeamish heart-burnings; 
 Pale, bloated, cold, she seem'd to hate mankind, 
 Yet loved in secret all forbidden things. 
 And here the Tertian shakes his chilling wings; 
 The sleepless Gout here counts the crowing cocks, 
 A wolf now gnaws him, now a serpent stings; 
 Whilst Apoplexy cramm'd, Intemperance knocks 
 Down to the ground at once, as butctierleTTeth ox.* 
 
 * The four concluding stanzas were claimed ly Doctor Arm- 
 strong, and inserted in his Miscellanies. 
 
CANTO II. 
 
 The Knight of Arts and Industry, 
 
 And his achievements fair; 
 That, by this Castle's overthrow, 
 
 Secured, and crowned were. 
 
 I. 
 
 ESCAPED the castle of the sire of sin, 
 Ah ! where shall I so sweet a dwelling find ? 
 For all around, without, and all within, 
 Nothing save what delightful was and kind, 
 Of goodness savouring and a tender mind, 
 E'er rose to view. But now another strain, 
 Of doleful note, alas ! remains behind: 
 I now must sing of pleasure turn'd to pain, 
 And of the false enchanter INDOLENCE complain. 
 
 IL 
 
 Is there no patron to protect the Muse, 
 And fence for her Parnassus' barren soil? 
 To every labour its reward accrues, 
 And they are sure of bread who swink and moil; 
 But a fell tribe the Aonian hive despoil, 
 As ruthless wasps oft rob the painful bee; 
 Thus while the laws not guard that noblest toil, 
 Ne for the Muses other meed decree, 
 They praised are alone, and starve right merrily. ' 
 
 in. 
 
 I care not, Fortune, what you me deny: 
 You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace; 
 You cannot shut the windows of the sky, 
 Through which Aurora shows her brightening face; 
 
182 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE, 
 
 You cannot bar my constant feet to trace 
 The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve: 
 Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, 
 And I their toys to the great children leave: 
 Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Come then, my Muse, and raise a bolder song; 
 Come, lig no more upon the bed of sloth, 
 Dragging the lazy languid line along, 
 Fond to begin, but still to finish loath, 
 Thy half-writ scrolls all eaten by the moth: 
 Arise, and sing..ihat -generous jmp of fame, 
 Who with the sons of softness nobly wroth, 
 To sweep away this human. lumber came, 
 Or in a chosen few to rouse the slumbering flame. 
 
 In Fairvlajid there lived a knight of old, 
 
 Of feature stern, Selvaggio well yck'p'd, 
 A rough unpolish'd man r robust and iiold, 
 But wondrous poor: he neither sow'd nor reup'd, 
 Ne stores in summer for cold winter heap'd; 
 In hunting all his days away he wore; 
 Now scorch'd by June, now in November steep'd 
 Now pinch'd by biting January sore, 
 lie still in woods pursued the libbard and the boar. 
 
 VI. 
 
 As he one morning, long before the dawn, 
 Prick'd through the forest to dislodge his prey, 
 Deep in the winding bosom of a lawn, 
 With wood wild fringed, he mark'd a taper's ray, 
 That from the beating rain and wintry fray 
 Did to a lonely cot his steps decoy; 
 There, up to earn the needments of the day, 
 He found dame Poverty, nor fair nor coy: 
 jjer hjMxmipress'd, and tilTd her with a lusty boy. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 183 
 
 VII. 
 
 Amid the greenwood shade this boy was bred, 
 And grew at last a knight of muchel fame, 
 Of active mind and vigorous lustyhed, 
 The Knignt of Arts and Industry by name: 
 Earth was his bed, the boughs his roof did frame; 
 He knew no beverage but the flowing stream; 
 His tasteful, well-earn'd food the sylvan game, 
 Or the brown fruit with which the woodlands teem: 
 The same to him glad summer, or the winter breme. 
 
 So pass'd his youthly morning, void of care, 
 Wild as the colts that through the commons run. 
 For him no tender parents troubled were, 
 He of the forest seem'd to be the son, 
 Arid, certes, had been utterly undone; 
 But that Minerva pity of him took, 
 With all the gods that love the rural wonne, 
 That teach to tame the soil and rule the crook; 
 Ne did the sacred Nine disdain a gentle look. 
 
 Of fertile genius him they nurtured well, 
 In every science, and in every art, 
 By' which mankind the thoughtless brutes excel, 
 That can or use, or joy, or grace impart, 
 Disclosing all the powers of head and heart: 
 Ne were the goodly exercises spared) 
 That brace the nerves, or make the limbs alert. 
 And mix 'elastic force with firmness hard: 
 Was never knight on ground mote be with him compared. 
 
 Sometimes, with early morn, he mounted gay 
 The hunter steed, exulting o'er the dale, 
 And drew the roseate breath of orient day; 
 Sometimes, retiring to the secret vale, 
 
184 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 Yclad in steel, and bright with burnish'd mail, 
 He strain'd the bow, or toss'd the sounding spear, 
 Or darting on the goal, outstripp'd the gale, 
 Or wheel'd the chariot in its mid career, 
 Or strenuous wrestled hard with many a tough compeer. 
 
 At other times he pried through nature's store, 
 Whatever she in the ethereal round contains, 
 Whate'er she hides beneath her verdant floor, 
 The vegetable and the mineral reigns; 
 Or else he scann'd the globe, those small domains, 
 Where restless mortals such a turmoil keep, 
 Its seas, its floods, its mountains, and its plains; 
 But more he search'd the mind, and roused from sleep 
 Those moral seeds whence we heroic actions reap. 
 
 Nor would he scorn to stoop from high pursuits 
 Of heavenly truth, and practise what she taught: 
 Vain is the tree of knowledge without fruits ! 
 Sometimes in hand the spade or plough he caught, 
 Forth calling all with which boon earth is fraught; 
 Sometimes he plied the strong mechanic tool, 
 Or rear'd the fabric from the finest draught; 
 And oft he put himself to Neptune's school, 
 Fighting with winds and waves on the vex'd ocean pool. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 To solace then these rougher toils, he tried 
 To touch the kindling canvas into life; 
 With Nature his creating pencil vit-<], 
 With Nature joyous at the mimic strife: 
 Or, to such shapes as graced Pygmalion's wife, 
 He hew'd the marble; or, with varied fire, 
 He roused the trumpet, and the martial fife, 
 Or bade the lute sweet tenderness inspire, 
 Or verses framed that well might wake Apollo's lyre. 
 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 185 
 
 Accomplished thus, he from the woods issued, 
 Full of great aims, and bent on bold emprise; 
 The work which long he in his breast had brew'd, 
 Now to perform he ardent did devise; 
 To wit, a barbarous world to civilise. 
 Earth was till then a boundless forest wild; 
 Nought to be seen but savage wood and skies; 
 No .cities nourish' d arts, no culture smiled, 
 No government, no laws, no gentle manners mild. 
 
 xv. Ljkjl 
 
 A rugged wight, the worst of brutes, was man ; 
 On his own wretched kind he ruthless prey'd: 
 The strongest still the weakest overran; 
 In every country mighty robbers sway'd, 
 And guile and ruffian force were all their trade. 
 Life was a scene of rapine, want, and wo; 
 Which thisT)rave"knight, in noble anger, made 
 To swear he would the rascal rout overthrow, 
 For, by the powers divine, it should no more be so ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 It would exceed the purport of my song, 
 To say how this best sun from orient climes 
 Came, beaming life and beauty all along, 
 Before him chasing indolence and crimes. 
 Still as he pass'd, the nations he sublimes, 
 And calls forth arts and virtues with his ray: 
 Then Egypt, Greece, and Rome their golden times 
 Successive had; but now in ruins grey 
 They lie, to slavish sloth and tyranny a prey. 
 I 
 
 XVII. 
 
 To crown his toils, Sir Industry then spread 
 The swelling sail, and made for Britain's coast. 
 A sylvan life till then the natives led, 
 In the brown shades and greenwood forest lost, 
 
ISC) CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 All careless rambling where it liked them most: 
 Their wealth the wild deer bouncing through the glade; 
 They lodged at large, and lived at nature's cost; 
 Save spear and bow, withouten other aid; 
 Yet not the Roman steel their naked breast dismay' d. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 He liked the soil, he liked the clement skies, 
 He liked the verdant hills and flowery plains: 
 " Be this my great, my chosen isle," he cries, 
 " This, whilst my labours Liberty Sustains, 
 This Queen of Ocean all assault disdains." 
 Nor liked he less the genius of the land, 
 To freedom apt and persevering pains, 
 Mild to obey, and generous to command, 
 Tempered by forming Heaven with kindest, firmest hand. 
 
 Here, by degrees, his master-work arose, 
 Whatever arts and industry can frame: 
 Whatever finish' dagricujture knows, 
 Fair queen of arts! from heaven itself who came, 
 When Eden flourish' d in unspotted fame; 
 And still with her sweet innocence we find, 
 And tender peace, and joys without a name, 
 That, while they ravish, tranquillise the mind: 
 Nature and art at once, delight and use combined. 
 
 Then tQwjos he quicken' d by mechanic arts, 
 And bade the fervent city glow with toil; 
 Bade social commerce raise renowned mart*, 
 Join land to land, and marry soil -to soil; 
 Unite the p<>ls, and without bloody spoil 
 Bring home of either Ind the gorgeous stores; 
 Or, should despotic rage the world embroil, 
 Bade tyrants tremble on remotest chores, 
 While o'er the encircling deep Britannia's thunder roars. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 187 
 
 The propping Muses then he westward call'd, 
 From the famed city* by Propontic sea, 
 What time the Turk the enfeebled Grecian thrall'd; 
 Thence from their cloister'd walks he set them free, 
 And brought them to another Castalie, 
 Where Isis many a famous nursling breeds; 
 Or where old Cam soft paces o'er the lea 
 In pensive mood, and tunes his Doric reeds, 
 The whilst his flocks at large the lonely shepherd feeds. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Yet the; fine arts: were what he finish' d least. 
 For why"? They are the quintessence of all, 
 The growth of labouring time, and slow increased; 
 Unless, as seldom chances, it should fall 
 That mighty patrons the coy sisters call 
 Up to the sunshine of uncumber'd ease, 
 Where no rude care the mounting thought may thrall, 
 And where they nothing have to do but please: 
 Ah ! gracious God ! thou know'st they ask no other jeej, \ 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 But now, alas! we live too late in time: 
 Our patrons now e'en grudge that little claim, 
 Except to such as sleek the soothing rhyme; 
 And yet, forsooth, they wear Maecenas' name, 
 Poor sons of puffc-up vanity, not fame, 
 Unbroken spirits, cheer ! still, still remains 
 The eternal patron, Liberty; whose flame, 
 While she protects, inspires the noblest strains: 
 The best and sweetest far, are toil-created gains. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 When as the knight had framed, in Britain-land, 
 A matchless form of glorious government, 
 
 * Constantinople. 
 
188 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 In which the^soyereign laws alone command, * 
 Laws establish'd by the public free consent, 
 Whose majesty is to the sceptre lent; 
 When this great plan, with each dependent art, 
 Was settled firm, and to his heart's content, 
 Then sought he from the toilsome scene to part, 
 And let life's vacant eve breathe quiet through the 
 heart. 
 
 XXY. 
 
 For this he chose a farm in Deva's vale, 
 Where his long alleys peep'd upon the main: 
 In this calm seat he drew the healthful gale, 
 Here mix'd the chief, the patriot, and the swain, 
 The happy monarch of his sylvan train; 
 Here, sided by the guardians of the fold, 
 He walk'd his rounds, and cheer'd his blest domain: 
 His days, the days of unstain'd Nature, roll'd 
 Replete with peace and joy, like patriarchs of old. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Witness, ye lowing herds, who gave him milk; 
 Witness, ye flocks, whose woolly vestments far 
 Exceed soft India's cotton, or her silk; 
 Witness, with Autumn charged the nodding car, 
 That homeward came beneath sweet evening's star, 
 Or of September moons the radiance mild. 
 hide thy head, abominable War! 
 Of crimes and. ruffian idleness the child ! 
 From heaven this life ysprung, from hell thy gK-riod 
 viled! 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Nor from his deep retirement banish'd was 
 The amusing cure of rural industry. 
 Still, as witli grati-ful change the seasons pass, 
 New scenes arise, new landscapes strike the eye. 
 And all the enliven' d country beautify: 
 
CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 189 
 
 Gay plains extend where marshes slept before; 
 O'er recent meads the exulting streamlets fly; 
 Dark frowning heaths grow bright with Ceres' store, 
 And woods imbrown the steep, or wave along the shore. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 As nearer to his farm you made approach, 
 He polish'd Nature with a finer hand: 
 Yet on her beauties durst not Art encroach; 
 J Tis Art's alone these beauties to expand. 
 IrTgracefttl dance iinniingled, o'er the land, 
 Pan, Pales, Flora, and Pomona play'd: 
 Here, too, brisk gales the rude wild common fann'd. 
 A happy place; where free, and unafraid, 
 Amid the flowering brakes each coyer creature stray'd; 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 But in prime vigour what can last for aye 1 
 That soul-enfeebling wizard Indolence, 
 I whilom sung, wrought in his works decay: 
 Spread far and wide was his cursed influence; 
 Of public virtue much he dull'd the sense, 
 E'eri much of private; eat our spirit out, 
 And fed our rank luxurious vices: whence 
 Tlie land was overlaid with many a lout; 
 Not, as old fame reports, wise, generous, bold, and 
 stout. 
 
 A rage of pleasure madden'd every breast, 
 Down to the lowest lees the ferment ran: 
 To his licentious wish each must be bless'd, 
 With joy be fever'd; sn atigii.it as he can. 
 Thus Vice the standard rear'd; her arrier-ban 
 Corru^foifcaird, and loud she gave the word, 
 " Mind, mind yourselves ! why should the vulgar man, 
 The lacquey, be more virtuous than his lord ? 
 Eujoythis span oi life ! 'tis all the gods afford." 
 
190 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 
 
 The tidings reach'd to where, in quiet hall, 
 The good old knight enjoyed well-earn'd repose: 
 "Come, come, Sir Knight, thy children on thee call; 
 Come, save us yet, ere ruin round us close ! 
 The demon Indolence thy toils o'erthrows." 
 On this the noble colour stain'd his cheeks, 
 Indignant, glowing through the whitening snows 
 Of venerable eld; his eye full speaks 
 His ardent soul, and from his couch at once he breaks. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " I will," he cried, " so help me, God ! destroy 
 That villain Archimage." His page then straight 
 
 He to him caTTd; a fiery-footed bpj,* ^^^ 
 
 Benempt Dispatch: " My steed Fe at the gate; 
 My bard attend; quick, bring the net of fate." 
 This net was twisted by the sisters three; 
 Which, when once cast o'er hardened wretch, too late 
 Repentance comes; replevy cannot be 
 From the strong iron grasp of vengeful destiny. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 He came, the bard, a little Druid wight, 
 Of withered aspect; but his eye was keen, 
 With sweetness mix'd. In russet brown bedight, 
 As is his sister* of the copses green, 
 He crept along, unpromising of mien. 
 Gross he who judges so. His soul was fair, 
 Bright as the children of yon azure sheen ! 
 True comeliness, which nothing can impair, 
 Dwells in the mind: all else is vanity and glare. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 " Come," quoth the Knight, " a voice has rcachM mine ear: 
 The demon Indolence threats overflow 
 
 The Nightingale. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 191 
 
 To all that to mankind is good and dear: 
 Come, Philomelus ! let us instant go, 
 O'erturn his bowers, and lay his castle low. 
 Those men, those wretched men ! who will be slaves, 
 Must drink a bitter wrathful cup of wo: 
 But some there be thy song, as from their graves, 
 Shall raise." Thrice happy he! who without rigour 
 saves. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Issuing forth, the Knight bestrode his steed. 
 
 Of ardent bay, and on whose front a star 
 
 Shone blazing bright: sprung from the generous 
 
 breed, 
 
 That whirl of active day the rapid car, 
 He pranced along, disdaining gate or bar. 
 Meantime the bard on milk-white palfrey rode; 
 An honest, sober beast, that did not mar 
 His meditations, but full softly trode: 
 And much they moralised as thus yfere they yode. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 They talk'd of virtue and of human bliss. 
 What else so fit for man to settle well '? 
 And still their long researches met in this, 
 This Truth of Truths, which nothing can refel: 
 " From virtue's fount the purest joys outwell, 
 Sweet rills of thought that cheer the conscious soul; 
 While vice pours forth the troubled streams of hell, 
 ThfiLwhich, howe'er disguised, at last with dole 
 Will through the tortured breast their fiery torrent roll." 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 At length it dawn'd, that fatal valley gay, 
 
 O'er which high wood-crown'd hills their summits 
 
 rear: 
 
 On the cool height awhile our palmers stay, 
 And spite even of themselves their senses cheer; 
 
192 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 Then to the vizard's wonne their steps they steer. 
 Like a green isle, it broad beneath them spread, 
 With gardens round, and wandering currents clear, 
 And tufted groves to shade the meadow- bed, 
 Sweet airs and song: and without hurry all seem'd glad. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 "As God shall judge me, Knight ! we must forgive," 
 
 The half-enraptured Philomelas cried, 
 
 " The frail good man deluded here to live, 
 
 And in these groves his musing fancy hide. 
 
 Ah ! nought is pure. It cannot be denied, 
 
 That virtue still some tincture has of vice, 
 
 And vice of virtue. What should then betide, 
 
 / But that our charity be not too nice ? 
 
 /Come, let us those we can, to real bliss entice." 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 "Ay, sicker," quoth the Knight, " allJ^s 
 To pleasant sin and joyous dalliance bent; 
 But let not brutish vice of this avail, 
 And think to 'scape deserved punishment 
 Justice were cruel weakly to relent; 
 From Mercy's self she got her sacred glaive: 
 Grace be to those who can, and will, repent; 
 But penance long, and dreary, to the slave, 
 Who must in floods of tire his gross foul spirit lave." 
 
 XL. 
 
 Thus holding high discourse, they came to where 
 The cursed carle was at his wonted trade; 
 Still tempting heedless men into his snare, 
 ID witching wise as I before have- said. 
 But when he saw, in goodly geer array'd, 
 The grave majestic Knight approaching nigh, 
 And by his side tin- hard so sage and staid, 
 His eount<'iiaiKV irll. y-t eft his aiixi"ii> 
 Mark'd them, like wily fox who roosted cock doth >py. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 193 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Nathless, with feign'd respect, he bade give back 
 The rabble rout, and welcomed them full kind; 
 Struck with the noble twain, they were not slack 
 His orders to obey, and fall behind. 
 Then he resumed his song; and unconfmed, 
 Pour'd all his music, ran through all his strings: 
 With magic dust their eyne he tries to blind, 
 And virtue's tender airs o'er weakness flings. 
 What pity base his song who so divinely sings ! 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Elate in thought, he counted them his own, 
 They listen'd so intent with fix'd delight: 
 Bulrthey instead, as if transmew'd to stone, 
 Marvell'd he could with such sweet art unite 
 The lights and shades of manners wrong and right. 
 Meantime the silly crowd the charm devour, 
 Wide pressing to the gate. Swift, on the Knight 
 He darted fierce, to drag him to his bower, 
 Who backening shunn'd his touch, for well he knew its power. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 As in throng 1 d amphitheatre of old, 
 The wary Retiarius* trapp'd his foe; 
 E'en so the Knight, returning on him bold, 
 At once involved him in the Net of Wo, 
 Whereof I mention made not long ago. 
 Enraged at first, he scorn' d so weak a jail, 
 And leap'd, and flew, and flounced to and fro; 
 But when he found that nothing could avail, 
 He sat him felly down, and gnaw'd his bitter nail. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Alarm'd, the inferior demons of the place 
 Raised rueful shrieks and hideous yells around; 
 
 * A gladiator, who made use of a net, which he threw over his 
 adversary. 
 
194 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 Black stormy clouds deform'd the welkin's face, 
 
 And from beneath was heard a wailing sound, 
 
 As of infernal sprights in cavern bound; 
 
 A solemn sadness every creature strook, 
 
 And lightnings flash'd, and horror rock'd the ground: 
 
 Huge crowds on crowds outpoured, with bleniish'd 
 
 look, 
 As if on Time's last verge this frame of things had 
 
 shook. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Soon as the short-lived tempest was yspent, 
 Steam'd from the jaws of vex'd Avernus' hole, 
 And hush'd the hubbub of the rabblement, 
 Sir Industry the first calm moment stole: 
 "There must," he cried, "amid so vast a shoal, 
 Be some who are not tainted at the heart, 
 Not poison'd quite by this same villain's bowl! 
 Come then, my bard, thy heavenly fire impart; 
 Touch soul with soul, till forth the latent spirit start." 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 The bard obeyed; and taking from his side, 
 Where it in seemly sort depending hung, 
 His British harp, its speaking strings he tried, 
 The which with skilful touch he deftly strung, 
 Till tinkling in clear symphony they rung. 
 Then, as he felt the Muses come along, 
 Light o'er the chords his raptured hand he flung, 
 And play'd a prelude to his rising song: 
 The whilst, like midnight mute, ten thousands round him 
 throng. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Thus, ardent, burst his strain: " Ye hapless race, 
 Dire labouring here to smother reason's ray, 
 That lights our Maker's linage in our fae>, 
 And gives us wide o'er earth unquestioned sway; 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 195 
 
 What is the adored Supreme Perfection, say ? 
 What, but eternal never-resting soillp 
 Almighty power, and all-directing day; 
 By whom each atom stirs, the planets roll; 
 Who fills, surrounds, informs, and agitates the whole. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 "Come, to the beaming God your hearts unfold! 
 Draw from its fountain life ! 'Tis thence, alone, 
 We can excel. Up from unfeeling mould, 
 To .^eraphs burning round the Almighty's throne, 
 Life rising still on life, in higher tone, 
 Perfection forms, and with perfection bliss. 
 In universal nature this clear shown, 
 Not needeth proof: to prove it were, I wis, 
 To prove the beauteous world excels the brute abyss. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 "Is not the field, with lively culture green, 
 A sight more joyous than the dead morass? 
 Do not the skies, with active ether clean, 
 And fann'd by sprightly zephyrs, far surpass 
 The foul November fogs, and slumbrous mass 
 With which sad Nature veils her drooping face 1 
 Does not the mountain stream, as clear as glass, 
 Gay-dancing on, the putrid pool disgrace 'I 
 The same in all holds true, but chief in human race. 
 
 "It was not by vile loitering in ease, 
 That Greece obtain'd the brighter palm of art; 
 That soft yet ardent Athens learn' d to please, 
 To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart, 
 In all supreme ! complete in every part ! 
 It was not thence majestic Rome arose, 
 And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart: 
 For sluggard's brow the laurel never grows; 
 Renown is not the child of indolent Repose. 
 
196 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 LI. 
 
 " Had unambitious mortals minded nought, 
 But in loose joy their time to wear away; 
 Had they alone the lap of dalliance sought, 
 Pleased on her pillow their dull heads to lay, 
 Rude Nature's state had been our state to-day; 
 No cities e'er their towery fronts had raised, 
 No arts had made us opulent and gay; 
 With brother brutes the human race had grazed; 
 None e'er had soar'd to fame, none honour'd been, none 
 praised. 
 
 " Great IJpjmer's song had never fired the breast 
 
 To thirst of glory and lieruic deeds; 
 
 Sweet Marc's muse, sunk in inglorious rest, 
 
 Had silent slept amid the Mincian reeds: 
 
 The wits of modern time had told their beads, 
 
 The monkish legends been their only strains; 
 
 Our MUionla Eden had lain wrapt in weeds, 
 
 Our Shakespeare stroll'd and laugh'd with Warwick 
 
 swains, 
 Ne had my master Spenser eharrn'd his Mulla's plains. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 " Dumb too had been the ag,%e historic muse t 
 And perish'd all the sons of ancient fame; 
 Those starry lights of virtue, that dilmse 
 Through the dark depth of time their vivid flame, 
 Had all been lost with such as have no name. 
 Who then had scorn'd his ease for others* goad ? 
 Wh^therTESTgil'd rapacious men to tamej 
 Who in the public breach di-vntod st<><><l, 
 And for his country's cause Urn prodigal of blood I 
 
 LTV. 
 
 " But should to fame your hearts unfeeling be, 
 If right I read, you pleasure all require: 
 

 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 197 
 
 Then hear how best may be obtain'd this fee, 
 How best enjoy' d this Nature's wide desire. 
 Toil and be glad! let Industry inspire 
 Into your quicken'd limbs her buoyant breath ! 
 Who does not act is dead; absorpt entire 
 Inlmry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath: 
 leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death ! 
 
 LV. 
 
 "Ah ! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven, 
 When drooping health and spirits go amiss 1 
 How tasteless then whatever can be given ! 
 Health is the vital principle of bliss, 
 And exercise of health. In proof of this, 
 Behold the wretch, who slugs his life away, 
 Soon swallow'd in disease's sad abyss; 
 While he whom toil has braced, or manly play, 
 As light as air each limb, each thought as clear as day. 
 
 " who can speak the vigorous joys of health ! 
 Unclogg'd the body, unobscured the mind: 
 The morning rises gay, with pleasing stealth, 
 The temperate evening falls serene and kind. 
 In health the wiser brutes true gladness find: 
 See ! how the younglings frisk along the meads, 
 As May comes on, and wakes the balmy wind; 
 Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds; 
 Yet what but high-strung health this dancing pleasaunce 
 breeds '] 
 
 " But here, instead, is foster'd every ill, 
 Which or distemper'd minds or bodies know. 
 Come then, my kindred spirits ! do not spill 
 Your talents here: this place is but a show, 
 Whose charms delude you to the den of wo. 
 Come, follow me, I will direct you right, 
 
198 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 "Where pleasure's roses, void of serpents, grow, 
 Sincere as sweet; come, follow this good Knight, 
 And you will bless the day that brought him to your 
 sight. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 " Some he will lead to courts, and some to camps; 
 To senates some, and public sage debates, 
 Where, by the solemn gleam of midnight lamps, 
 The world is poised, and managed mighty states; 
 To high discovery some, that new creates 
 The face of earth; some to the thriving mart; 
 Some to the rural reign, and softer fates; 
 To the sweet Muses some, who raise the heart: 
 All glory shall be yours, all nature, and all art ! 
 
 LTX. 
 
 " There are, I see, who listen to my lay, 
 Who wretched sigh for virtue, but despair: 
 ' All may be done/ methinks I hear them say, 
 ' E'en death despised by generous actions fair; 
 All, but for those who to these bowers repair, 
 Their every power dissolved in luxury, 
 To quit of torpid sluggishness the lair, 
 And from the powerful arms of sloth get free: 
 'Tis rising from the dead. Alas ! it cannot be !' 
 
 "Would you then learn to dissipate the band 
 Of the huge threatening difficulties dire, 
 That in the weak man's way like lions stand, 
 His soul appal, and damp his rising fire ? 
 Resolve, resolve, arid to be men aspire. 
 Exert that noblest privilege, alone, 
 Here to mankind indulged; control desire; 
 Let godlike reason, from her sovereign tlm>n<> 3 
 Speak the commanding word 1 1 will ! ' and 
 done. 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 199 
 
 LXI. 
 
 "Heavens! can you then thus waste, in shameful wise, 
 Your few important days, of trial, here 1 
 Heirs of eternity ! yborn to rise 
 Through endless states of being, still more near 
 TcTBliss approaching, and perfection clear; 
 Can you renounce a fortune so sublime, 
 Such glorious hopes, your backward steps to steer, 
 And roll, with vilest brutes, through mud and slime ? 
 JSTo ! no ! Your heaven-touch'd hearts disdain the sordid 
 crime!" 
 
 LXII. 
 
 "Enough! enough!" they cried straight, from the 
 
 crowd, 
 
 The better sort on wings of transport fly: 
 As when amid the lifeless summits proud 
 Of Alpine cliffs, where to the gelid sky 
 Snows piled on snows in wintry torpor lie, 
 The rays divine of vernal Phcebus play; 
 The awaken'd heaps, in streamlets from on high, 
 Roused into action, lively leap away. 
 Glad warbling through the vales, in their new being gay. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Not less the life, the vivid joy serene, 
 That lighted up these new created men, 
 Than that which wings the exulting spirit clean, 
 When, just deliver'd from this fleshly den, 
 It soaring seeks its native skies agen: 
 How light its essence ! how unclogg'd its powers, 
 Beyond the blazon of my mortal pen ! 
 E'en so we glad forsook these sinful bowers, 
 E'en such enraptured life, such energy was ours. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 But far the greater part, with rage inflamed, 
 Dire-rnutter'd curses, and blasphemed high Jove: 
 
200 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 " Ye sons of hate!" they bitterly exclaim'd, 
 " What brought you to this seat of peace and love? 
 While with kind nature, here amid the grove, 
 We pass'd the harmless sabbath of our time, 
 What to disturb it could, fell men, emove 
 Your barbarous hearts ? Is happiness a crime 1 
 Then do the fiends of hell rule in yon heaven sublime." 
 
 LXV. 
 
 " Ye impious wretches," quoth the knight in wrath, 
 " Your happiness behold ! " Then straight a wand 
 He waved, an anti-magic power that hatli, 
 Truth from illusive falsehood to command. 
 Sudden the landscape sinks on ev.ery hand; 
 The pure quick streams are marshy puddles found; 
 On baleful heaths the groves all black enM stand; 
 And o'er the weedy foul abhorred ground, 
 Snakes, adders, toads, each loathsome creature crawls aruiiud. 
 
 And here and there, on trees by lightning scathed, 
 
 Unhappy wights who loathed life yhung; 
 
 Or, in fresh gore and recent murder bathed, 
 
 They weltering lay; or else, infuriate flung 
 
 Into the gloomy flood, while ravens sung 
 
 The funeral dirge, they down the torrent roird: 
 
 These, by distemper' d bloo(LtQjnadness stung, 
 
 Had do6m T 3~th"emselves; whence oft, when night con- 
 
 troll'd 
 The world, returning hither their sad spirits howl'd. 
 
 Meantime a moving scene was open laid; 
 That lazar-house, I whilom in my lay 
 Depainted have, its horrors deep display'd, 
 And gave unnumber'd wretches to the day, 
 Who tossing there in squalid misery lay. 
 Soon as of sacred light the unwonted smile 
 

 CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 201 
 
 Pour'd on these living catacombs its ray, 
 Through the drear caverns stretching many a mile, 
 The sick upraised their heads, and dropp'd their woes 
 awhile. 
 
 " Heaven ! " they cried, " and do we once more see 
 Yon blessed sun, and this green earth so fair 1 
 Are we from noisome damps of pesthouse free ] 
 And drink our souls the sweet ethereal air ? 
 thou ! or Knight, or God 1 who boldest there 
 That fiend, oh keep him in eternal chains ! 
 But what for us, the children of despair, 
 Brought to the brink of hell, what hope remains ? 
 Repentance does itself but aggravate our pains." 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 The gentle Knight, who saw their rueful case, 
 Let fall adown his silver beard some tears. 
 " Certes," quoth he, " it is not e'en in grace 
 To undo the past, and eke your broken years: 
 Nathless, to nobler worlds repentance rears, 
 With humble hope, her eyeV to her is given 
 A power the truly contrite heart that cheers; 
 She quells the brand by which the rocks are riven; 
 She more than merely softens, she rejoices Heaven. 
 
 " Then patient bear the sufferings you have earn'd, 
 And by these sufferings purify the mind: 
 Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd: 
 Or pious die, with penitence resign'd; 
 And to a life more happy and refined, 
 Doubt not, you shall, new creatures, yet arise. 
 Till then, you may expect in me to find 
 One who will wipe your sorrow from your eyes, 
 One who will soothe your pangs, and wing you to the 
 skies." 
 
CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 They silent heard, and pour*d their thanks in tears: 
 " For you," resumed the Knight with sterner tone, 
 " Whose hard dry hearts the obdurate demon sears, 
 That villain's gifts will cost you many a groan; 
 In dolorous mansion long you must bemoan 
 His fatal charms, and weep your stains away; 
 Till, soft and pure as infant goodness grown, 
 You feel a perfect change: then, who can say 
 What grace may yet shine forth in heaven's eternal < 
 
 This said, his powerful wand he waved anew: 
 Instant, a glorious angel-train descends, 
 The Charities., to wit, of rosy hue; 
 Sweet love their looks a gentle radiance lends, 
 And with seraphic flame compassion blends. 
 At once, delighted, to their charge they fly: 
 When lo ! a goodly hospital ascends; 
 In which they bade each lenient aid be nigh, 
 That could the sick-bed smooth of that sad company. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 It was a worthy edifying sight, 
 And gives to human-kind peculiar grace, 
 To see kind hands attending day and night, 
 With tender ministry, from place to place. 
 Some prop the head; some from the pallid face 
 Wipe off the faint cold dews weak nature sheds; 
 Some reach the healing draught: the whilst, to chase 
 The fear supreme, around their soften'd beds, 
 Some holy man by prayer all opening heaven dispreads. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Attended by a glad acclaiming train, 
 Of those he rescued hid from gaping hell, 
 Then turn'd the Knight; and, to his hall again 
 Soft-pacing, sought of peace the mossy cell: 
 
CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. 203 
 
 Yet down his cheeks the gems of pity fell, 
 To see the helpless wretches that remained, 
 There left through delves and deserts dire to yell; 
 Amazed, their looks with pale dismay were stain' d, 
 And spreading wide then* hands they meek repentance feign' d. 
 
 * LXXV. 
 
 But ah ! then* scorned day of grace was past: 
 For (horrible to tell !) a desert wild 
 Before them stretch'd, bare, comfortless, and vast; 
 With gibbets, bones, and carcasses denied. 
 There nor trim field, nor lively culture smiled; 
 Nor waving shade was seen", nor fountain fair; 
 But sands abrupt on sands lay loosely piled, 
 Through which they floundering toil'd with painful care, 
 Whilst Phoebus smote them sore, and fired the cloudless air. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Then, varying to a joyless land of bogs, 
 The sadden'd country a grey waste appeared; 
 Where nought but putrid streams and noisome fogs 
 For ever hung on drizzly Auster's beard; 
 Or else the ground, by piercing Caurus sear'd; 
 Was jagg'd with frost, or heap'd with glazed snow; 
 Through these extremes a ceaseless round they steer'd, 
 By cruel fiends still hurried to and fro, 
 Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn^ with many hell-hounds moe. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 The first was with base dunghill rags yclad, 
 Tainting the gale, in which they flutter' d light; 
 Of morbid hue his features, sunk and sad; 
 His hollow eyne shook forth a sickly light; 
 And o'er his lank jawbone, in piteous plight, 
 His black rough beard was matted rank and vile; 
 Direful to see! a heart-appalling sight! 
 Meantime foul scurf and blotches him defile; 
 And dogs, where'er he went, still barked all the while. 
 P 
 
204 CASTLE OP INDOLENCE. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 The other was a fell despightful fiend; 
 Hell holds none worse in baleful bower below: 
 By pride, and wit, and rage, and rancour, keenM; 
 Of man alike, if good or bad, the foe: 
 With nose upturned he always made a show 
 As if he smelt some nauseous scent; his eye 
 Was cold, and keen, like blast from boreal snow; 
 And taunts he casten forth most bitterly. 
 Such were the twain that off drove this ungodly fry. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 E'en so through Brentford town, a town of mud, 
 A herd of bristly swine is prick'd along; 
 The filthy beasts that never chew the cud, 
 Still grunt and squeak, and sing their troublous song 
 And oft they plunge themselves the mire among: 
 But aye the ruthless driver goads them on, 
 And aye of barking dogs the bitter throng 
 Makes them renew their unmelodious moan; 
 Ne ever find they rest from their unresting fone. 
 

 BKITANNIA. 
 
 [At the time this poem was written, the Spaniards had much distressed 
 our merchant vessels who traded to the South American coast, and 
 seized the crews who had landed to cut logwood in the Bay of Cam- 
 peachy, which right had been conceded by treaty. The merchants 
 loudly complained of these outrages remonstrances were made by the 
 British Ministry, but no reformation followed. Thus matters continued 
 till 1739, when war was formally declared.] 
 
 " Et tantas audetis tollere moles? 
 Quos ego sed motos praestat componere fluctus. 
 Post mihi non simili poena commissa luetis. 
 Maturate fugam, regique haec dicite vestro : 
 Non illi imperium pelagi, ssevumque tridentem, 
 Sed mihi sorte datum." Virgd. 
 
 As on the sea-beat shore Britannia sat, 
 Of her degenerate sons the faded fame, 
 Deep in her anxious heart, revolving sad: 
 Bare was her throbbing bosom to the gale, 
 That, hoarse and hollow, from the bleak surge blew; 
 Loose flow'd her tresses; rent her azure robe. 
 Hung o'er the deep from her majestic brow 
 She tore the laurel, and she tore the bay. 
 Nor ceased the copious grief to bathe her cheek; 
 Nor ceased her sobs to murmur to the main. 
 Peace discontented, nigh departing, stretch'd 
 Her dove-like wings; and War, though greatly roused, 
 Yet mourns his fetter'd hands. While thus the queen 
 Of nations spoke; and what she said the muse 
 Recorded, faithful, in unbidden verse. 
 " E'en not yon sail, that from the sky-mixt wave 
 
206 BRITANNIA. 
 
 Dawns on the sight, and wafts the Royal Youth,* 
 A freight of future glory to my shore; 
 E'en not the flattering view of golden days, 
 And rising periods yet of bright renown, 
 Beneath the Parents, and their endless line 
 Through late revolving time, can soothe my rage; 
 While, unchastised, the insulting Spaniard dares 
 Infest the trading flood, full of vain war 
 Despise my navies, and my merchants seize; 
 As, trusting to false peace, they fearless roam 
 The world of waters wild; made, by the toil 
 And liberal blood of glorious ages, mine: 
 Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their head. 
 Whence this unwonted patience 1 this weak doubt ? 
 This tame beseeching of rejected peace ? 
 This meek forbearance ? this unriative fear, 
 To generous Britons never known before ? 
 And sail'd my fleets for this; on Indian tides 
 To float, inactive, with the veering winds 1 
 The mockery of war ! while hot disease, 
 And sloth distemper'd, swept off burning crowds, 
 For action ardent; and amid the deep, 
 Inglorious, sunk them in a watery grave. 
 There now they lie beneath the rolling flood, 
 Far from their friends, and country, unavenged; 
 And back the drooping war-ship comes again, 
 Dispirited and thin; her sons ashamed 
 Thus idly to re-view their native shore; 
 With not one glory sparkling in their eye, 
 One triumph on their tongue. A passenger, 
 The violated merchant comes along; 
 That far sought wealth, for which the noxious gale 
 He drew, and sweat beneath equator suns, 
 By lawless force detain'd; a force that soon 
 Would melt away, and every spoil resign, 
 Were once the British lion heard to roar. 
 
 * Frederick Prince of Wales, then lately arrived. 
 
BRITANNIA. 207 
 
 Whence is it that the proud Iberian thus, 
 
 In their own well-asserted element, 
 
 Dares rouse to wrath the masters of the main 1 
 
 Who told him, that the hig incumbent war 
 
 Would not, ere this, have roll'd his trembling ports 
 
 In smoky ruin ? and his guilty stores, 
 
 Won by the ravage of a butcher'd world, 
 
 Yet unatoned, sunk in the swallowing deep, 
 
 Or led the glittering prize into the Thames ? 
 
 " There was a time (oh let my languid sons 
 Resume their spirit at the rousing thought !) 
 When all the pride of Spain, in one dread fleet, 
 Swell'd o'er the labouring surge; like a whole heaven 
 Of clouds, wide rolFd before the boundless breeze. 
 Gaily the splendid armament along 
 Exultant plough'd, reflecting a red gleam, 
 As sunk the sun, o'er all the flaming Vast; 
 Tall, gorgeous, and elate; drunk with the dream 
 Of easy conquest; while their bloated war, 
 Stretch'd out from sky to sky, the gathered force 
 Of ages held in its capacious womb. 
 But soon, regardless of the cumbrous pomp, 
 My dauntless Britons came, a gloomy few, 
 With tempests black, the goodly scene deform'd, 
 And laid their glory waste. The bolts of fate 
 Resistless thunder'd through their yielding sides; 
 Fierce o'er their beauty blazed the lurid flame; 
 And seized in horrid grasp, or shatter'd wide, 
 Amid the mighty waters, deep they sunk. 
 Then too from every promontory chill, 
 Rank fen, and cavern where the wild wave works, 
 I swept confederate winds, and swell'd a storm. 
 Round the glad isle, snatch'd by the vengeful blast, 
 The scatter'd remnants drove; on the blind shelve, 
 And pointed rock, that marks the indented shore, 
 Relentless dash'd, where loud the northern main 
 Howls through the fractured Caledonian isles. 
 " Such were the dawnings of my watery reign; 
 
208 BRITANNIA. 
 
 But since how vast it grew, how absolute, - 
 E'en in those troubled times, when dreadful Blake 
 Awed angry nations with the British name, 
 Let every humbled state, let Europe say, 
 Sustain'd, and balanced, by my naval arm. 
 Ah, what must those immortal spirits think 
 Of your poor shifts? Those, for their country's good, 
 Who faced the blackest danger, knew no fear, 
 No mean submission, but commanded peace. 
 Ah, how with indignation must they burn 
 (If aught, but joy, can touch ethereal breasts) 
 With shame 1 ? with grief? to see their feeble sons 
 Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer 7 d seas, 
 For which their wisdom plann'd, their councils glow'd, 
 And their veins bled through many a toiling age. 
 " Oh, first of human blessings ! and supreme ! 
 Fair Peace ! how lovely, how delightful thou ! 
 By whose wide tie the kindred sons of men 
 Like brothers live, in amity combined 
 And unsuspicious faith; while honest toil 
 Gives every joy, and to those joys a right, 
 Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps. 
 Pure is thy reign; when, unaccursed by blood, 
 Nought, save the sweetness of indulgent showers, 
 Trickling distils into the vernant glebe; 
 Instead of mangled carcasses, sad-seen, 
 When the blithe sheaves lie scatter'd o'er the field; 
 When only shining shares, the crooked knife, 
 And hooks imprint the vegetable wound: 
 When the land blushes with the rose alone, 
 The falling fruitage and the bleeding vine. 
 Oh, Peace ! thou source and soul of social life; 
 Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, 
 Science his views enlarges, Art refines, 
 And swelling Commerce opens all her ports; 
 Bless'd be the man divine who gives us thee ! 
 Who bids the trumpet hush his horrid clang, 
 Nor blow the giddy nations into rage; 
 
BRITANNIA. 209 
 
 Who sheaths the murderous blade; the deadly gun 
 
 Into the well-piled armoury returns; 
 
 And every vigour, from the work of death, 
 
 To grateful industry converting, makes 
 
 The country flourish, and the city smile. 
 
 Un violated, him the virgin sings; 
 
 And him the smiling mother to her train. 
 
 Of him the shepherd, in the peaceful dale, 
 
 Chants; and, the treasures of his labour sure. 
 
 The husbandman of him, as at the plough, 
 
 Or team, he toils. With him the sailor soothes, 
 
 Beneath the trembling moon, the midnight wave; 
 
 And the full city, warm, from street to street, 
 
 And shop to shop, responsive, rings of him. 
 
 Nor joys one land alone: his praise extends 
 Far as the sun rolls the diffusive day; 
 Far as the breeze can bear the gifts of peace. 
 Till all the happy nations catch the song. 
 
 "What would not, Peace ! the patriot bear for thee ? 
 What painful patience ] What incessant care ? 
 What mix'd anxiety 1 What sleepless toil ? 
 E'en from the rash protected what reproach 1 
 For he thy value knows; thy friendship he 
 To human nature; but the better thou, 
 The richer of delight, sometimes the more 
 Inevitable war; when ruffian force 
 Awakes the fury of an injured state. 
 E'en the good patient man, whom reason rules, 
 Roused by bold insult and injurious rage, 
 With sharp and sudden check the astonish'd sons 
 Of violence confounds; firm as his cause, 
 His bolder heart; in awful justice clad; 
 His eyes effulging a peculiar fire: 
 And, as he charges through the prostrate war, 
 His keen arm teaches faithless men no more 
 To dare the sacred vengeance of the just. 
 
 " And what, my thoughtless sons, should fire you more 
 Than when your well-earn'd empire of the deep 
 
210 , BRITANNIA. 
 
 The least beginning injury receives ? 
 
 What better cause can call your lightning forth ? 
 
 Your thunder wake ? your dearest life demand 1 
 
 What better cause, than when your country sees 
 
 The sly destruction at her vitals aim'd ? 
 
 For oh ! it much imports you, 'tis your all, 
 
 To keep your trade entire, entire the force 
 
 And honour of your fleets; o'er that to watcli, 
 
 E'en with a hand severe, and jealous eye. 
 
 In intercourse be gentle, generous, just, 
 
 By wisdom polish'd, and of manners fair; 
 
 But on the sea be terrible, untamed, 
 
 Unconquerable still: let none escape, 
 
 Who shall but aim to touch your glory there. 
 
 Is there the man into the lion's den 
 
 Who dares intrude, to snatch his young away ? 
 
 And is a Briton seized ? and seized beneath 
 
 The slumbering terrors of a British fleet? 
 
 Then ardent rise ! Oh, great in vengeance rise ! 
 
 O'ertura the proud, teach rapine to restore: 
 
 And as you ride sublimely round the world, 
 
 Make every vessel stoop, make every state 
 
 At once their welfare and their duty know 
 
 This is your glory: this your wisdom; this 
 
 The native power for which you were design'd 
 
 By fate, when fate design'd the firmest state, 
 
 That e'er was seated on the subject sea; 
 
 A state, alone, where Liberty should live, ' 
 
 In these late times, this evening of mankind, 
 
 When Athens, Rome, and Cartilage are no more, 
 
 The world almost in slavish sloth dissolved. 
 
 For this, these rocks around your coast were thrown; 
 
 For this, your oaks, peculiar harden'd, shoot 
 
 Strong into sturdy growth ; for this, your hearts 
 
 Swell with a sullen courage, growing still 
 
 As danger grows; and strength, and toil for this 
 
 Are liberal pour'd o'er all the fervent land. 
 
 Then cherish this, this unexpensive power, 
 

 BRITANNIA. 21] 
 
 Undangerous to the public, ever prompt, 
 By lavish nature thrust into your hand : 
 And, unencumber'd with the bulk immense 
 Of conquest, whence huge empires rose, and fell 
 Self-crash'd, extend your reign from shore to shore, 
 Where'er the wind your high behests can blow; 
 And fix it deep on this eternal base. 
 * For should the sliding fabric once give way, 
 Soon slackened quite, and past recovery broke, 
 It gathers ruin as it rolls along, 
 Steep rushing down to that devouring gulf, 
 Where many a mighty empire buried lies. 
 And should the big redundant flood of trade, 
 In which ten thousand thousand labours join 
 Their several currents, till the boundless tide 
 Rolls in a radiant deluge o'er the land; 
 Should this bright stream, the least inflected, point 
 Its course another way, o'er other lands 
 The various treasure would resistless pour, 
 Ne'er to be won again; its ancient tract 
 Left a vile channel, desolate, and dead, 
 With all around a miserable waste. 
 Not Egypt, were her better heaven, the Nile, 
 Turn'd in the pride of flow; when o'er his rocks, 
 And roaring cataracts, beyond the reach 
 Of dizzy vision piled, in one wide flash 
 An Ethiopian deluge foams amain 
 (Whence wondering fable traced him from the sky); 
 E'en not that prime of earth, where harvests crowd 
 On untill'd harvests, all the teeming year, 
 If of the fat o'erflowing culture robb'd, 
 Were then a more uncomfortable wild, 
 Sterile, and void; than of her trade deprived, 
 Britons, your boasted isle: her princes sunk; 
 Her high-built honour moulder'd to the dust; 
 Unnerved her force; her spirit vanish'd quite; 
 With rapid wing her riches fled away; 
 Her unfrequented ports alone the sign 
 
212 BRITANNIA. 
 
 Of what she was; her merchants scattered wide; 
 Her hollow shops shut up; and in her streets, 
 Her fields, woods, markets, villages, and roads, 
 The cheerful voice of labour heard no more. 
 
 " Oh, let not then waste luxury impair 
 That manly soul of toil which strings your nerves, 
 And your own proper happiness creates! 
 Oh, let not the soft, penetrating plague 
 Creep on the freeborn mind ! and working there, 
 With the sharp tooth of many a new-form'd want, 
 Endless, and idle all, eat out the heart 
 Of liberty; the high conception blast; 
 The noble sentiment, the impatient scorn 
 Of base subjection, and the swelling wish 
 For general good, erasing from the mind: 
 While nought save narrow selfishness succeeds, 
 And low design, the sneaking passions all 
 Let loose, and reigning in the rankled breast. 
 Induced at last, by scarce perceived degrees, 
 Sapping the very frame of government, 
 And life, a total dissolution comes; 
 Sloth, ignorance, dejection, flattery, fear. 
 Oppression raging o'er the waste he makes; 
 The human being almost quite extinct; 
 And the whole state in broad corruption sinks. 
 Oh, shun that gulf: that gaping ruin shun ! 
 And countless ages roll it far away 
 From you, ye heaven-beloved ! May liberty, 
 The light of life ! the sun of human-kind ! 
 Whence heroes, bards, and patriots borrow flame, 
 E'en where the keen depressive north descends, 
 'Still spread, exalt, and actuate your powers ! 
 While slavish southern climates beam in vain. 
 And may a public spirit from the throne, 
 Where every virtue sits, go copious forth, 
 Live o'er the land ! the finer arts inspire; 
 Make thoughtful Science raise his pensive head, 
 Blow the fresh bay, bid Industry rejoice, 
 
BRITANNIA. 213 
 
 And the rough sons of lowest labour" smile. 
 As when, profuse of Spring, the loosen' d West 
 Lifts up the pining year, and balmy breathes 
 Youth, life, and love, and beauty, o'er the world. 
 
 " But haste we from these melancholy shores, 
 Nor to deaf winds, and waves, our fruitless plaint 
 Pour weak ; the country claims our active aid; 
 That let us roam; and where we find a spark 
 Of public virtue, blow it into flame. 
 Lo ! now, my sons, the sons of freedom ! meet 
 In awful senate; thither let us fly; 
 Burn in the patriot's thought, flow from his tongue 
 In fearless truth; myself, transform' d, preside, 
 And shed the spirit of Britannia round." 
 
 This said; her fleeting form and airy train 
 Sunk in the gale; and nought but ragged rocks 
 Rush'd on the broken eye; and nought was heard 
 But the rough cadence of the dashing wave. 
 
LIBEETY 
 
 PART I. 
 ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED. 
 
 The following Poem is thrown into the form of a Poetical Vision. Its 
 scene, the ruins of ancient Rome. The Goddess of Liberty, who is sup- 
 posed to speak through the whole, appears, characterised as British 
 Liberty. Gives a view of ancient Italy, and particularly of Republican 
 Rome, in all her magnificence and glory. This contrasted by modern 
 Italy; its valleys, mountains, culture, cities, people: the difference 
 appearing strongest in the capital city Rome. The ruins of the great 
 works of Liberty more magnificent than the borrowed pomp of Oppres- 
 sion; and from them revived Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture. 
 The old Romans apostrophised, with regard to the several melancholy 
 changes in Italy: Horace, Tully, and Virgil, with regard to their Tibur, 
 Tusculum, and Naples. That once finest and most ornamented part of 
 Italy, all along the coast of Baise, how changed. This desolation of 
 Italy applied to Britain. Address to the Goddess of Liberty, that she 
 would deduce from the first ages, her chief establishments, the descrip- 
 tion of which constitute the subject of the following parts of this Poem. 
 She assents, and commands what she says to be sung hi Britain ; whose 
 happiness, arising from freedom, and a limited monarchy, she marks. 
 An immediate Vision attends, and paints her words. Invocation. 
 
 MY lamented Talbot ! while with thee 
 The Muse gay roved the glad Hesperian round, 
 And drew the inspiring breath of ancient arts; 
 Ah ! little thought she her returning verse 
 Should sing our darling subject to thy Shade. 
 And does the mystic veil, from mortal beam, 
 Involve those eyes where every virtue smiled, 
 And all thy Father's candid spirit shone? 
 The light of reason, pure, without a cloud; 
 
216 LIBERTY. 
 
 Full of the generous heart, the mild regard; 
 Honour disdaining blemish, cordial faith, 
 And limpid truth, that looks the very soul. 
 But to the death of mighty nation* turn 
 31 v strain; be there absorpt the private tear. 
 
 Xtusirig, I lay; warm from the sacred walks, 
 Where at each step imagination burns : 
 While scatter'd wide around, awful and hoar, 
 Lies, a vast monument, once glorious Rome, 
 The tomb of empire! Ruins! that efface 
 Whate'er, of finish'd, modern pomp can boast. 
 
 Snatch'd by these wonders to that world where thought 
 Unfettered ranges, Fancy's magic hand 
 Led me anew o'er all the solemn scene, 
 Still in the mind's pure eye more solemn dress'd; 
 When straight, methought, the fair majestic Power 
 Of Liberty appeared. Not, as of old, 
 I Extended in her hand the cap, and rod, 
 ; Whose slave-enlarging touch gave double life: 
 But her bright temples bound with British oak, 
 And naval honours nodded on her brow. 
 Sublime of port: loose o'er her shoulder flow'd 
 Her sea-green robe, with constellations gay. 
 An island-goddess now; and her high care 
 The i^eenoTTsles, Ihe mistress of the main. 
 My heart beat filial transport at the sight; 
 And, as sHe moved to speak, the awaken'd Muse 
 Listen'd intense. Awhile she look'd around, 
 With mournful eye the well-known ruins mark'd, 
 And then, her sighs repressing, thus began: 
 
 " Mine are these wonders, all thou seest is mine; 
 But ah, how changed ! the falling poor remains 
 Of what exalted once the Ausonian shore. 
 Look back through time: and, rising from the gloom, 
 Mark the dread scene, that paints whate'er I say. 
 
 " The great Republic see! that glow*d, sublime, 
 With the mix'd freedom of a thousand stai 
 Raised on the thrones of kings her curule chair, 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED. 217 
 
 And by her fasces awed the subject world. 
 
 See busy millions quickening all the land, 
 
 With cities throng'd, and teeming culture high: 
 
 For Nature then smiled on her free-born sons, 
 
 And ptiuTHThe plenty that belongs to men. 
 
 Behold, the country cheering, villas rise, 
 
 In lively prospect; by the secret lapse 
 
 Of brooks now lost, and streams renown'd in song; 
 
 In Umbria's closing vales, or on tho brow 
 
 Of her brown hills that breathe the scented gale: 
 
 On Baise's viny coast; where peaceful seas, 
 
 Fann'd by kind zephyrs, ever kiss the shore; 
 
 And suns unclouded shine, through purest air: 
 
 Or in the spacious neighbourhood of Rome; 
 
 Far shining upward to the Sabine hills. 
 
 To Anio's roar, and Tibur*s olive shade; 
 
 To where Preneste* lifts her airy brow; 
 
 Or downward spreading to the sunny shore, 
 
 Where Alba breathes the freshness of the main. 
 
 " See distant mountains leave their valleys dry, 
 And o'er the proud Arcade their tribute pour, 
 To lave imperial Rome. For ages laid, 
 Deep, massy, firm, diverging every way, 
 With tombs of heroes sacred, see her roads; 
 By various nations trod, and suppliant kings; 
 With legions flaming, or with triumph gay. 
 
 " Full in the centre of these wondrous works, 
 The pride of earth ! Rome in her glory see ! 
 Behold her demigods, in senate met; 
 All head to counsel, and all heart to act: 
 The commonweal inspiring every tongue 
 With fervent eloquence, unbribed, and bold; 
 Ere tante Corruption taught the servile herd 
 To rank obedient to a master's voice. 
 
 " Her Forum see, warm, popular, and loud, 
 In trembling wonder hush'd, when the two Sires,* 
 
 * Lucius Junius Brutus, and Virginius. 
 
218 LIBERTY. 
 
 As they the private father greatly quell'd, 
 Stood up the public fathers of the state. 
 See Justice judging there, in human shape. 
 Hark! how with freedom's voice it thunders high, 
 Or in soft murmurs sinks to Tully's tongue. 
 
 "Her tribes, her census, see; her generous troops, 
 Whose pay was glory, and their best reward 
 Free for their country and for me to die; 
 Ere mercenary murder grew a trade. 
 
 "Mark, as the purple triumph waves along, 
 The highest pomp, and lowest fall of life. 
 
 "Her festive games, the school of heroes, see; 
 Her Circus, ardent with contending youth: 
 Her streets, her temples, palaces, and baths, 
 Full of fair forms, of Beauty's eldest born, 
 And of a people cast in virtue's mould: 
 While sculpture lives around, and Asian hills 
 Lend their best stores to heave the pillar'd dome: 
 All that to Roman strength the softer touch 
 Of Grecian art can join. But language fails 
 To paint this sun, this centre of mankind; 
 Where every virtue, glory, treasure, art, 
 Attracted strong, in heighten'd lustre met. 
 
 " Need I the contrast mark 1 unjoyous view ! 
 A land in all, in government and arts, 
 In virtue, genius, earth, and heaven, reversed, 
 Who but these far-famed ruins to behold, 
 Proofs of a people, whose heroic aims 
 Soar'd far above the little selfish spL 
 Of d'Uiliting modern life; who but intlumed 
 With classic y..-:il, these consecrated scones 
 Of men and deeds to trace; unhappy land, 
 Would trust thy wilds, and cities loose of sway ? 
 
 " Are these the vales, that once exulting states 
 In their warm bosom fed ? The mountains these, 
 On whose high-blooming sides niy sons, of old, 
 I bred to glory 1 ? These dejected towns, 
 Where, mean and sordid, life can scarce subsist, 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED. 219 
 
 The scenes of ancient opulence and pomp ? 
 
 "Come! by whatever sacred name disguised, 
 Oppression, come ! and in thy works rejoice ! 
 See nature's richest plains to putrid fens 
 Turii'd by thy fury. From their cheerful bounds, 
 She razed the enlivening village, farm, and seat. 
 First, rural toil, by thy rapacious hand 
 Robb'd of his poor reward, resign' d the plough: 
 And now he dares not turn the noxious glebe. 
 
 J Tis thine entire. The lonely swain himself, 
 Who loves at large along the grassy downs 
 His flocks to pasture, thy drear champaign flies. 
 Far as the sickening eye can sweep around, 
 'Tis all one desert, desolate, and grey, 
 Grazed by the sullen buffalo alone: 
 And where the rank uncultivated growth 
 Of rotting ages taints the passing gale. 
 Beneath the baleful blast the city pines, 
 Or sinks enfeebled, or infected burns. 
 Beneath it mourns the solitary road, 
 Roll'd in rude mazes o'er the abandon'd waste; 
 While ancient ways, engulf 'd, are seen no more. 
 
 " Such thy dire plains, thou self-destroyer ! foe 
 To human-kind ! thy mountains too, profuse, 
 Where savage nature blooms, seem their sad plaint 
 To raise against thy desolating rod. 
 There on the breezy brow, where thriving states 
 And famous cities, once, to the pleased sun, 
 Far other scenes of rising culture spread, 
 Pale shine thy ragged towns. Neglected round, 
 Each harvest pines; the livid, lean produce 
 Of heartless labour: while thy hated joys, 
 Not proper pleasure, lift the lazy hand. 
 Better to sink in sloth the woes of life, 
 Than wake their rage with unavailing toil. 
 Hence, drooping art almost to nature leaves 
 The rude unguided year. Thin wave the gifts 
 Of yellow Ceres, thin the radiant blush 
 Q 
 
220 LIBERTY. 
 
 Of orchard reddens in the warmest ray. 
 To weedy wildness run, no rural wealth 
 (Such as dictators fed) the garden pours. 
 Crude the wild olive flows, and foul the vine; 
 Nor juice Caecubian, nor Falernian, more, 
 Streams life and joy, save in the Muse's bowl. 
 Unseconded by art, the spinning race 
 Draw the bright thread in vain, and idly toil. 
 In vain, forlorn in wilds, the citron blows; 
 And flowering plants perfume the desert gale. 
 Through the vile thorn the tender myrtle twines: 
 Inglorious droops the laurel, dead to song, 
 And long a stranger to the hero's brow. 
 
 " Nor half thy triumph this: cast from brute fields, 
 Into thejjmunts oj^jnen. thy ruthless eye. 
 There buxom Plenty never turns her horn; 
 The grace and virtue of exterior life, 
 No clean convenience reigns; e'en sleep itself, 
 Least delicate of powers, reluctant, there, 
 Lays on the bed impure his heavy head. 
 Thy horrid walk ! dead, empty, unadorn'd, 
 See streets whose echoes never know the voice 
 Of cheerful hurry, commerce many-tongued, 
 And art mechanic at his various task, 
 Fervent, employ'd. Mark the desponding race, 
 Of occupation void, as void of hope; 
 Hope, the glad ray, glanced from Eternal Good, 
 That life enlivens, and exalts its powers, 
 With views of fortune madness all to them! 
 By thee relentless seized their better joys, 
 To the soft aid of cordial airs they fly, 
 Breathing a kind oblivion o'er their woes. 
 And love and music melt their souls away. 
 From feeble Justice, see how rash revenge, 
 Trembling, the balance snatches; anifthe sword, 
 Fearful himself, to venal ruffians gives. 
 See where God's altar, nur>in^ murder, stands, 
 With the red touch of dark assassins stain'd. 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED. 221 
 
 " But chief let Rome, the mighty city ! speak 
 The full-exerted genius of thy reign. 
 Behold her rise amid the lifeless waste, 
 Expiring nature all corrupted round: 
 While the lone Tiber, through the desert plain, 
 Winds his waste stores, and sullen sweeps along. 
 PatehLd JKUJSL iuy:fragmejais, in unsolid pomp, 
 Mark how the temple glares; and artful dress'd, 
 Amusive, draws the superstitious train. 
 Mark how the palace lifts a lying front, 
 Concealing often,' in magnific jail, 
 Proud want; a deep unanimated gloom! 
 Amf off adjoining to the drear abode 
 Of misery, whose melancholy walls 
 Seem its voracious grandeur to reproach. 
 Within the city bounds the desert see. 
 See the rank vine o'er subterranean roofs, 
 Indecent, spread; beneath whose fretted gold 
 It once, exulting, flow'd. The people mark, 
 Matchless, while fired by me; to public good 
 Inexorably firm, just, generous, brave, 
 Afraid of nothing but unworthy life, 
 Elate with glory, an heroic soul 
 Known to the vulgar breast: behold them now 
 A^thin despairing number, all-subdued, 
 The slaves of slaves, by superstition fool' d, 
 By vice unmann'd and a licentious rule; 
 In guile ingenious, and in murder brave. 
 Such in one land, beneath the same fair clime, 
 Thy sons, Oppression, are; and such were mine. 
 
 "E'en with thy Jabour'd pomp, for whose vain show 
 Deluded thousands starve; all age-begrimed, 
 Torn, fobb'd, and scatter'd in unnumber'd sacks, 
 And by the tempest of two thousand years 
 Continual shaken, let my ruins vie. 
 These roads that yet the Roman hand assert, 
 Beyond the weak repair of modern toil; 
 These fractured arches, that the chiding stream 
 
222 LIBERTY. 
 
 No more delighted hear; these rich remains 
 Of marbles now unknown, where shines imbibed 
 Each parent ray; these massy columns, hew'd 
 From Afric's farthest shore; one granite all. 
 These obelisks high-towering to the sky, 
 Mysterious mark'd with dark Egyptian lore; 
 These endless wonders that this sacred* way 
 Illumine still, and consecrate to fame; 
 These fountains, vases, urns, and statues, charged 
 With the fine stores of art-completing Greece. 
 Mine is, besides, thy every later boast: 
 Thy Buonarotis, thy Palladios mine; 
 And mine the fair designs, which Raphael'sf soul 
 O'er the live canvas, emanating, breathed. 
 
 " What would you say, ye conquerors of earth ! 
 Ye Romans! could you raise the laurell'd head; 
 Could you the country see, by seas of blood, 
 And the dread toil of ages won so dear; 
 Your pride, your triumph, your supreme delight ! 
 For whose defence oft, in the doubtful hour, 
 You rush'd with rapture down the gulf of fate, 
 Of death ambitious ! till by awful deeds, 
 Virtues, and courage that amaze mankind, 
 The queen of nations rose; possess'd of all 
 Which nature, art, and glory could bestow: 
 What would you say, deep in the last abyss 
 Of slavery, vice, and unambitious want, 
 Thus to behold her sunk ? your crowded plains, 
 Void of her cities; unadorned your hills; 
 Ungraced your lakes; your ports to ships unknown; 
 Your lawless floods, and your abandon'd streams; 
 These could you know; these could you love again 
 Thy Tiber, Horace, could it now inspire, 
 
 
 * Via Sacra. 
 
 f Michael Angelo Buonaroti, Palladio, and Raphael d'Urbino; 
 the three great modern masters in sculpture, architecture, and 
 painting. 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED. 23 
 
 Content, poetic ease, and rural joy, 
 Soon bursting into song: while through the groves 
 Of headlong Anio, dashing to the vale, 
 In many a tortured stream, you mused along ? 
 Yon wild retreat,* where superstition dreams, 
 Could, Tull& you your Tusculum believe 1 
 And could you deem yon naked hills, that form, 
 Famed in old song, the ship-forsaken bay,t 
 Your Formian shore 1 Once the delight of earth, 
 Where art and nature, ever smiling, join'd 
 On the gay land to lavish all their stores. 
 How changed, how vacant, Viigil, wide around, 
 Would now your Naples seem ? disaster'd less 
 By Black Vesuvius thundering o'er the coast 
 His midnight earthquakes, and his mining fires, 
 Than by despotic rage:J that inward gnaws 
 A native foe; a foreign, tears without. 
 First from your flatter'd Caesars this began: 
 Tilt^doom'd to tyrants an eternal prey, 
 Thin peopled spreads, at last, the syren plain, 
 That the dire soul of Hannibal disarmed; 
 And wrapt in weeds the shore || of Venus lies. 
 There Baias sees no more the joyous throng; 
 Her bank all beaming with the pride of Rome: 
 No generous vines now bask along the hills, 
 Where sport the breezes of the Tyrrhene main: 
 With baths and temples mix'd, no villas rise; 
 
 * Tusculum is reckoned to have stood at a place now called 
 Grotta Ferrata, a convent of monks. 
 
 f The bay of Mola (anciently Formi^e) into which Homer 
 brings Ulysses and his companions. Near Formias Cicero had a 
 villa. 
 
 J Naples, then under the Austrian government. 
 
 Campagna Felice, adjoining to Capua. 
 
 || The coast of Baise, which was formerly adorned with the 
 works mentioned in the following lines; and where, amidst many 
 magnificent ruins, those of a temple erected to Venus are still to 
 be seen. 
 
224 LIBERTY. 
 
 Nor, art-sustain'd amid reluctant waves, 
 
 Draw the cool murmurs of the breathing deep: 
 
 No spreading ports their sacred arms extend: 
 
 No mighty moles the big intrusive storm, 
 
 From the calm station roll resounding back. 
 
 An almost total desolation sits, 
 
 A dreary stillness, saddening o'er the coast; 
 
 Where,* when soft suns and tepid winters rose, 
 
 Kejoicing crowds inhaled the balm of peace; 
 
 Where citied hill to hill reflected blaze; 
 
 And where with Ceres Bacchus wont to hold 
 
 A genial strife. Her youthful form, robust, 
 
 E'en Nature yields; by fire, and earthquake rent: 
 
 Whole stately cities in the dark abrupt 
 
 Swallow'd at once, or vile in rubbish laid, 
 
 A nest for serpents; from the red abyss 
 
 New hills, explosive, thrown; the Lucrine lake 
 
 A reedy pool: and all to Cuma's point, 
 
 The sea recovering his usurp'd domain, 
 
 And pour'd triumphant o'er the buried dome. 
 
 "Hence, Britain, learn; my best establish' d, last, 
 And more than Greece, or Rome, my steady reign; 
 The land where, King and People equal bound 
 Py guardian laws, my fullest blessings flow; 
 And where my jealous unsubmitting soul, 
 The dread of tyrants ! burns in every breast: 
 Learj^hence^iLsuch the miserable fate 
 Of an heroic race, the masters once 
 Of human-kind; what, when deprived of ME, 
 HIIW grievous must be thine ? in spite of climes, 
 Whose sim-eniiven'd ether wakes the soul 
 To higher powers; in spite of happy soils, 
 That, but by labour's slightest aid impell'd, 
 With treasures teem to thy cold clime unknown; 
 If there desponding fail the common arts, 
 
 * All along this coast the ancient Romans had their winter re- 
 treats; and several populous cities stood. 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED. 225 
 
 And sustenance of life: could life itself, 
 Far less a thoughtless tyrant's hollow pomp, 
 Subsist with thee ? against depressing skies, 
 Join'd to full-spread oppression's cloudy brow, 
 How could thy spirits hold ? where vigour find, 
 Forced fruits to tear from their unnative soil? 
 Or, storing every harvest in thy ports, 
 To plough the dreadful all-producing wave?" 
 
 Here paused the Goddess. By the cause assured, 
 In trembling accents thus I moved my prayer: 
 
 " Oh first, and most benevolent of powers ! 
 Come from eternal splendours, here on earth, 
 Against despotic pride, and rage, and lust, 
 To shield mankind: to raise them to assert 
 The^ native rights and honour of their race: 
 Teach" me, thy lowest subject, but in zeal 
 Yielding to none, the progress of thy reign. 
 And with a strain from THEE enrich the Muse. 
 As thee alone she serves, her patron THOU, 
 And great inspirer be ! then will she joy, 
 Though narrow life her lot, and private shade: 
 And when her venal voice she barters vile, 
 Or to thy open or thy secret foes; 
 May ne'er those sacred raptures touch her more, 
 By slavish hearts unfelt ! and may her song 
 Sink in oblivion with the nameless crew ! 
 Vermin of state ! to thy o'erflowing light 
 That owe their being, yet betray thy cause." 
 
 Then, condescending kind, the heavenly Power 
 Return'd: " What here, suggested by the scene, 
 I slight unfold, record and sing at home, 
 In that bless'd isle, where (so we spirits move) 
 With one quick effort of my will I am. 
 There Truth, unlicensed, walks; and dares accost 
 E'en kings themselves, the monarchs of the free ! 
 Fix'd on my rock, there, an indulgent race 
 O'er Britons wield the sceptre of their choice: 
 And there, to finish what his sires began, 
 
226 LIBERTY. 
 
 A Prince behold ! for me who burns sincere, 
 E'en with a subject's zeal. He my great work 
 Will parent-like sustain; and added give 
 The touch the Graces and the Muses owe. 
 For Britain's glory swells his panting breast; 
 And ancient arts he emulous revolves: 
 His pride to let the smiling heart abroad, 
 Through clouds of pomp, that but conceal the man; 
 To please his pleasure; bounty his delight; 
 And all the soul of Titus dwells in him." 
 
 Hail, glorious theme ! but how, alas ! shall verse, 
 From the crude stores of mortal language drawn, 
 How faint and tedious, sing, what, piercing deep, 
 The Goddess flash'd at once upon my soul. 
 For, clear precision all, the tongue of gods 
 Is harmony itself; to every ear 
 Familiar known, like light to every eye. 
 Meantime disclosing ages, as she spoke, 
 In long succession pour'd their empires forth; 
 Scene after scene the human drama spread; 
 And still the embodied picture rose to sight. 
 
 Oh THOU ! to whom the Muses owe their flame; 
 Who bidd'st, beneath the pole, Parnassus rise, 
 And Hippocren& tiow; with thy bold ease, 
 The striking force, the lightning of thy thought, 
 And thy strong phrase, that rolls profound and clear; 
 Oh, gracious Goddess ! reinspire my song; 
 While I, to nobler than poetic fame- 
 Aspiring, thy commands to Britons bear. 
 
LIBERTY, 
 
 PART II. 
 GREECE 
 
 Liberty traced from the pastoral ages, and the first uniting of neighbour- 
 ing families into civil government. The several establishments oi 
 Liberty, in Egypt, Persia, Phoenicia, Palestine, slightly touched upon, 
 down to her great establishment in Greece. Geographical description 
 of. Greece. Sparta and Athens, the two principal states of Greece, de- 
 scribed. Influence of Liberty overall the Grecian states; with regard 
 to their Government, their Politeness, their Virtues, their Arts and 
 Sciences. The vast superiority it gave them, in point of force and 
 bravery, over the Persians, exemplified by the action of Thermopylae, 
 the battle of Marathon, and the retreat of the Ten Thousand. Its full 
 exertion, and most beautiful effects in Athens. Liberty the source of 
 free Philosophy. The various schools which took their rise from So- 
 crates. Enumeration of Fine Arts: Eloquence, Poetry, Music, Sculpture, 
 Painting, and Architecture; the effects of Liberty in Greece, and brought 
 to their utmost perfection there. Transition to the modern state of 
 Greece. Why Liberty declined, and was at last entirely lost among the 
 Greeks. Concluding reflection. 
 
 THUS spoke the Goddess of the fearless eye; 
 And at her voice, renew'd, the Vision rose: 
 
 " First, in the dawn of time, with eastern swains, 
 In woods, and tents, and cottages, I lived; 
 While on from plain to plain they led their flocks, 
 In search of clearer spring, and fresher field. 
 These, as increasing families disclosed 
 The tender state, I taught an equal sway! 
 Few were offences, properties, and laws. 
 Beneath the rural portal, palm-o'erspread, 
 The father senate met. There Justice dealt, 
 
228 LIBERTY. 
 
 With reason then and equity the same, 
 
 Free as the common air, her prompt decree; 
 
 Nor yet had stain'd her sword with subjects' blood. 
 
 The simpler arts were all their simple wants 
 
 Had urged to light. But instant, these supplied, 
 
 Another set of fonder wants arose, 
 
 And other arts with them of finer ami; 
 
 Till, from refining want to want impell'd, 
 
 The mind by thinking push'd her latent powers 
 
 And life began to glow, and arts to shine. 
 
 "At first, on brutes alone the rustic war 
 Launch'd the rude spear; swift, as he glared along, 
 On the grim lion, or the robber wolf. 
 For then young sportive life was void of toil 
 Demanding little, and with little pleased: 
 But when to manhood grown, and endless joys, 
 Led on by equal toils, the bosom fired; 
 Lewd lazy rapine broke primeval peace, 
 And hid in caves and idle forests drear, 
 From the lone pilgrim, and the wandering swain, 
 Seized what he durst not earn. Then brother's blood 
 First, horrid, smoked on the polluted skies. 
 Awful in justice, then the burning youth, 
 Led by their temper'd sires, on lawless men, 
 The last worst monsters of the shaggy wood, 
 Turn'd the keen arrow, and the sharpen'd spear. 
 Then war grew glorious. Heroes then arose; 
 Who, scorning coward self, for others lived,, 
 Toil'd for their ease, and for their safety bled. 
 West, with the living day, to Greece I came: 
 Earth smiled beneath my beam: the Muse beJQjff 
 Sonorous flew, that low till then in woods 
 Had tuned the reed, and sigh'd the shepherd's pain; 
 But now, to sing heroic deeds, she s\\ ellM 
 A nobler note, and bade the banquet bum. 
 
 " For Greece my sons of Egypt I forsook; 
 A boastful race, that in the vain abyss 
 Of fabling ages loved to lose their source, 
 
GREECE. 229 
 
 And with their river traced it from the skies. 
 
 While there my laws alone despotic reign' d, 
 
 And king, as well as people, proud obey'd; 
 
 I taught them science, virtue, wisdom, arts; 
 
 By poets, sages, legislators sought; 
 
 The school of polish'd life, and human-kind. 
 
 But when mysterious Superstition came, 
 
 And, with her Civil Sister* leagued, involved 
 
 In studied darkness the desponding mind; 
 
 Then Tyrant Power the righteous scourge unloosed: 
 
 For yielded reason speaks the soul a slave. 
 
 Instead of useful works, like Nature's, great, 
 
 Enormous, cruel wonders crush'd the land; 
 
 And round a tyrant's tomb,t who none deserved. 
 
 For one vile carcase perish'd countless lives. 
 
 Then the great DragonJ couch'd amid his floods, 
 
 Swell'd his fierce heart, and cried, * This flood is mine, 
 
 'Tis I that bid it flow.' But, undeceived, 
 
 His frenzy soon the proud blasphemer felt; 
 
 Felt that, without my fertilising power, 
 
 Suns lost their force, and Niles o'erflow'd in vain. 
 
 Nought could retard me: nor the frugal state 
 
 Of rising Pejns^spber in extreme, 
 
 Beyond the pitch of man, and thence reversed 
 
 Into luxurious waste: nor yet the ports 
 
 Of old Phoenicia, first for letters famed, 
 
 That paint the voice, and silent speak to sight; 
 
 Of arts prime source, and guardian ! by fair stars, 
 
 First tempted out into the lonely deep; 
 
 To whom I first disclosed mechanic arts, 
 
 The winds to conquer, to subdue the waves, 
 
 With all the peaceful power of ruling trade; 
 
 Earnest of Britain. Nor by these retain'd; 
 
 Nor by the neighbouring land, whose palmy shore 
 
 The silver Jordan laves. Before me lay 
 
 * Civil Tyranny. t The Pyramids. 
 
 $ The Tyrants of Egypt. 
 
230 LIBERTY. 
 
 The promised Land of Arts, and urged my flight. 
 
 " Hail, Nature's utmost boast ! unrivall'd Greece ! 
 Mj fairest reign ! where every power benign 
 Conspired to blow the flower of human-kind, 
 And lavish'd all that genius can inspire. 
 Clear sunny climates, by the breezy main, 
 Ionian or ^Egean, temper'd kind: 
 Light, airy soils: a country rich, and gay; 
 Broke into hills with balmy odours crown'd, 
 And, bright with purple harvest, joyous vales; 
 Mountains, and streams, where verse spontaneous flow'd; 
 Whence deem'd by wondering men the seat of gods, 
 And still the mountains and the streams of song. 
 All that boon Nature could luxuriant pour 
 Of high materials, and my restless Arts 
 Frame into finish'd life. How many states, 
 And clustering towns, and monuments of fame, 
 And scenes of glorious deeds, in little bounds ? 
 From the rough tract of bending mountains, beat 
 By Adria's here, there by ^Egean waves; 
 To where the deep adorning Cyclade Isles 
 In shining prospect rise, and on the shore 
 Of farthest Crete resounds the Libyan main. 
 
 " O'er all two rival cities rear'd the brow, 
 And balanced all. Spread on Eurotas' bank, 
 Amid a circle of soft rising hills, 
 The patient Sparta one: the sober, hard, 
 And nian-subduingxitys which no shape 
 Of pain could conquer, nor of pleasure charm. 
 Lycurgus there built, on the solid base 
 Of equal life, so well a teinper'd state; 
 Where mixM each government, in such just poise; 
 Each power so checking, and supporting each; 
 That firm for ages, and unmoved, it stoocj, 
 The fort of Greece! without one pddy hour, 
 One shock of factioj^ or of party rage. 
 For, drain'd the springs of w-alth, Corruption there 
 Lay wither' d at jhe root. Thrice happy land 1 
 
GKEECE. 231 
 
 Had not neglected art, with weedy vice 
 Confounded, sunk. But if Athenian arts 
 Loved not the soil; yet there the calm abode 
 Of wisdom, virtue, philosophic ease, 
 Of manly sense and wit, in frugal phrase 
 Confined, and press'd into laconic force. 
 There, too, by rooting thence still treacherous self, 
 The Public and the Private grew the same. 
 The" children of the nursing Public all, 
 And at its table fed; for that they toil'd, 
 For that they lived entire, and even for that 
 The tender mother urged her son to die. 
 " Of softer genius, but not less intent 
 Tpjseize the palm of empire, Athens rose. 
 Where, with bright marbles big and future pomp, 
 Hymettus* spread, amid the scented sky, 
 His thymy treasures to the labouring bee, 
 And to botanic hand the stores of health; 
 Wrapt in a soul-attenuating clime, 
 Between Ilissus and Cephissust glow'd 
 This hive of science, shedding sweets divine, 
 Of active arts, and animated arms. 
 There, passionate for me, an easy moved, 
 A quick, refined, a delicate, humane, 
 Enlighten'd people reign' d. Oft on the brink 
 Of ruin, hurried by the charm of speech. 
 Enforcing hasty council, immature, 
 Totter'd the rash Democracy; unpoised, 
 And by the rage devour'd, that ever tears 
 A ppjmlace unequal: part too rich, 
 And part or fierce with' want or abject grown. 
 Solon at last, their mild restorer, rose: 
 Allay'd the tempest; to the calm of laws 
 Reduced the settling whole; and, with the weight 
 
 * A mountain near Athens, celebrated from the earliest time* 
 to the present day for its excellent honey. 
 
 f Two rivers, betwixt which Athens was situated. 
 
232 LIBERTY. 
 
 Which the two senates* to the public lent, 
 As with an anchor fix'd the driving state. 
 
 "Nor was my forming care to these confined. 
 For emulation through the whole I poured, 
 Noble contention! who should most excel 
 In government well poised, adjusted best 
 To public weal: in countries cultured high: 
 In ornamented towns, where order reigns, 
 Free social life, and polish'd manners fair: 
 In exercise, and arms; arms only drawn 
 For common Greece, to quell the Persian pride: 
 In moral science, and in graceful arts. 
 Hence, as for glory peacefully they strove, 
 The prize grew greater, and the prize of all, 
 By contest brighten'd, hence the radiant youth, 
 Pour'd every beam; by generous pride inflamed, 
 Felt every ardour burn: their great reward 
 The verdant wreath, which sounding Pisat gave. 
 
 "Hence flourished Greece; and hence a race of men, 
 As gods by conscious future times adored: 
 In whom each virtue wore a smiling air, 
 Each science shed o'er life a friendly light, 
 Each art was nature. Spartan valour hence, 
 At the famed pass,t firm as an isthmus stood; 
 And the whole eastern ocean, waving far 
 As eye could dart its vision, nobly check'd. 
 While in extended battle, at the field 
 Of Marathon, my keen Athenians drove 
 Before their ardent band a host of slaves. 
 
 "Hence through the continent ten thousand Greeks 
 
 * The Areopagus, or Supreme Court of Judicature, which 
 Solon reformed and improved: and the Council of Four Hundred, 
 by him instituted. In this council all affairs of state were deli- 
 berated, before they came to be voted in the assembly of the 
 people. 
 
 t Or Olympia, the city where the Olympic Games were cele- 
 brated. 
 
 J The Straits of Thermopylae. 
 
GREECE. 233 
 
 Urged a retreat, whose glory not the prime 
 Of victories can reach. Deserts, in vain, 
 Opposed their course; and hostile lands, unknown: 
 And deep rapacious floods, dire bank'd with death; 
 And mountains, in whose jaws destruction grirm'd; 
 Hunger, and toil; Armenian snows, and storms; 
 And circling myriads still of barbarous foes. 
 Greece in their view, and glory yet untouch'd, 
 Their steady column pierced the scattering herds, 
 Which a whole empire pour'd; and held its way 
 Triumphant, by the sage-exalted Chief* 
 Fired and sustain'd. Oh light and force of mind, 
 Almost almighty in severe extremes ! 
 The sea at last from Colchian mountains seen, 
 Kind-hearted transport round their captains threw 
 The soldiers' fond embrace; o'erflow'd their eyes 
 With tender floods, and loosed the general voice 
 To cries resounding loud ( The sea! The sea!' 
 
 " In Attic bounds hence heroes, sages, wits, 
 Shone thick as stars, the milky way of Greece ! 
 And though gay wit and pleasing grace was theirs, 
 All the soft modes of elegance and ease; 
 Yet was not courage less, the patient touch 
 Of toiling art, and disquisition deep. 
 
 " My spirit pours a vigour through the soul, 
 The unfettered thought with energy inspires, 
 Invincible in arts, in the bright field 
 Of nobler Science, as in that of Arms. 
 Athenians thus not less intrepid burst 
 The bonds of tyrant darkness, than they spurn'd 
 Tlie~Persiari cliamsT while" tnrough the city full 
 Of mirthful quarrel and of witty war, 
 Incessant struggled taste refining taste, 
 And friendly free discussion, calling forth 
 From the fair jewel Truth its latent ray. 
 O'er all shone out the great Athenian Sage,t 
 
 * Xenophon. f Socrates. 
 
234 LIBERTY. 
 
 And Father of Philosophy: the sun, 
 
 From whose white blaze emerged, each various sect 
 
 Took various tints, but with diminish' d beam. 
 
 Tutor of Athens ! he, in every street, 
 
 Dealt priceless treasure: goodness his delight, 
 
 Wisdom his wealth, and glory his reward. 
 
 Deep through the human heart, with playful art, 
 
 His simple question stole; as into truth, 
 
 And serious deeds, he smiled the laughing race; 
 
 Taught moral happy life, whate'er can bless, 
 
 Or grace mankind; and what he taught he was. 
 
 Compounded high, though plain, his doctrine broke 
 
 In different Schools: the bold poetic phrase 
 
 Of figured Plato; Xenophon's pure strain, 
 
 Like the clear brook that steals along the vale; 
 
 Dissecting truth, the Stagyrite's keen eye; 
 
 The exalted Stoic pride; the Cynic sneer; 
 
 The slow-consenting Academic doubt; 
 
 And, joining bliss to virtue, the_glad ease 
 
 Of Epicurus, seldom understood. 
 
 They, ever candid, reason still opposed 
 
 To reason; and, since virtue was their aim, 
 
 Each by sure practice tried to prove his way 
 
 The best. Then stood un touch' d the solid base 
 
 Of Liberty, the liberty of mind: 
 
 For systems yet, and soul-enslaving creeds, 
 
 Slept with the monsters of succeeding times. 
 
 From priestly darkness sprung the enlightening arts 
 
 Of fire, and sword, and rage, and horrid names. 
 
 "0 Greece ! thou sapient nurse of finer arts! 
 Which to bright science blooming fancy bore; 
 Be this thy praise, that thou, and thou alone, 
 In these hast led the way, in these excell'd, 
 Crown'd with the laurel of assenting Time. 
 
 "In thy full language, speaking mighty things; 
 Like a clear torrent close, or else diffused 
 A broad majestic stream, and rolling on 
 Through all the winding harmony of sound 
 
GREECE. 235 
 
 In it the power of Eloquence, at large, 
 Breathed the persuasive or pathetic soul; 
 Still'd by degrees the democratic storm, 
 Or bade it threatening rise, and tyrants shook, 
 Flush'd at the head of their victorious troops. 
 In it the Muse, her fury never quench'd. 
 By mean unyielding phrase, or jarring sound, 
 Her unconfined divinity displayed; 
 And, still harmonious, form'd it to her will: 
 Or soft depress'd it to the shepherd's moan, 
 Or raised it swelling to the tongue of gods. 
 
 "Heroic song was thine; the Fountain Bard,* 
 Whence^each poetic stream derives its course. 
 Thine the/dread moral scene, thy chief delight ! 
 Where idle Pahcy durst not mix her voice, 
 WEST Heason spoke august; the fervent heart 
 Or"plaiif d, or storm'd; and in the impassion'd man, 
 Concealing art with art, the poet sunk. 
 This" potent school of manners, but when left 
 To loose neglect, a land-corrupting plague, 
 Was not unworthy deem'd of public care, 
 And boundless cost, by thee; whose every son, 
 E'en last mechanic, the true taste possess'd 
 Of what had flavour to the nourish'd soul. 
 
 "The sweet enforcer of the poet's strain, 
 Thine was the meaning music .of the heart. 
 Not the vain trill, that, void of passion, runs 
 In giddy mazes, tickling idle ears; 
 Butjbhat deep-searching voice, and artful hand, 
 To which respondent shakes the varied soul. 
 
 ThyMr ideas, thy delightful forms, 
 By Love Imagined, by the Graces touch'd, 
 The boast of well-pleased Nature ! Sculpture seized, 
 And bade them ever smile in Parian stone. 
 Selecting Beauty's choice, and that agdn 
 Exalting, blending in a perfect whole, 
 
 * Homer. 
 
236 LIBERTY. 
 
 Thy workmen left e'en Nature's self behind. 
 From those far different, whose prolific hand 
 Peoples a nation; they for years on years, 
 By the cool touches of judicious toil, 
 Their rapid genius curbing, pour'd it all 
 Through the live features of one breathing stone. 
 There, beaming full, it shone; expressing gods: 
 Jove's awful brow, Apollo's air divine, 
 The fierce atrocious frown of sinew'd Mars, 
 Or the sly graces of the Cyprian Queen. 
 Minutely perfect all ! Each dimple sunk, 
 And every muscle swell' d, as Nature taught. 
 In tresses, braided gay, the marble waved; 
 FloVd in loose robes, or thin transparent veils; 
 Sprung into motion; soften'd into flesh; 
 Was fired to passion, or refined to soul. 
 
 " Nor less thy,pencil, with creative touch, 
 Shed mimic life, when all thy brightest dames, 
 AsseniDTeaTZeuxis in his Helen mix'd. 
 And when Apelles, who peculiar knew 
 To give a grace that more than mortal smiled, 
 The soul of beauty ! call'd the Queen of Love, 
 Fresh from the billows, blushing orient charms. 
 E'en such enchantment then thy pencil pour'd, 
 That cruel-thoughted War the impatient torch 
 Dash'd to the ground; and, rather than destroy 
 The patriot picture,* let the city 'scape. 
 
 " First, elder Sculpture taught her sister art 
 Correct design; where great ideas shone, 
 And in the secret trace expression spoke: 
 Taught her the graceful attitude; the turn, 
 And beauteous airs of head; the native act, 
 Or bold, or easy; and, cast free behind, 
 
 * "When Demetrius besieged Rhodes, and could have r- 
 the city, by setting fire to that quarter of it where stood the house 
 of the celebrated Protogencs, he chose rather to raise tli- 
 tlan hazard the burning of a famous picture called Jasylus, the 
 masterpiece of that painter. 
 
GREECE. 237 
 
 The swelling mantle's well-adjusted flow. 
 Then the bright Muse, their eldest sister, came; 
 And bade her follow where she led the way: 
 Bade earth, and sea, and air, in colours rise; 
 And copious action on the canvas glow: 
 Gave her gay Fable; spread Invention's store; 
 Enlarged her view; taught Composition high, 
 And just Arrangement, circling round one point, 
 That starts to sight, binds and commands the whole. 
 Caught from the heavenly Muse a nobler aim, 
 And scorning the soft trade of mere delight, 
 O'er all thy temples, porticoes, and schools, 
 Heroic deeds she traced, and warm display 3 d 
 Each moral beauty to the ravish'd eye. 
 Tnerepas T)he imagined presence of the god 
 Aroused the mind, or vacant hours induced 
 Calm contemplation, or assembled youth 
 Burn'd in ambitious circle round the sage, 
 The living lesson stole into the heart, 
 With more prevailing force than dwells in words. 
 These rouse to glory; while, to rural life, 
 The softer canvas oft reposed the soul. 
 There gaily broke the sun-illumined cloud; 
 The lessening prospect, and the mountain blue, 
 Vanish'd in air; the precipice frown'd, dire; 
 White, down the rock, the rushing torrent dash'd; 
 The sun shone, trembling, o'er the distant main; 
 The tempest foam'd, immense; the driving storm 
 Sadden'd the skies, and, from the doubling gloom, 
 On the scathed oak the ragged lightning fell; 
 In closing shades, and where the current strays, 
 With Peace, and Love, and Innocence around, 
 Piped the lone shepherd to his feeding flock: 
 Round happy parents smiled their younger selves; 
 And friends conversed, by death divided long. 
 
 " To public virtue thus the smiling arts, 
 Unblemish'd handmaids, served; the Graces they 
 To dress this fairest Yenus. Thus revered, 
 
238 LIBERTY. 
 
 And placed beyond the reach of sordid care. 
 The high awarders of immortal fame, 
 Alone for glory thy great masters strove; 
 Courted by kings, and by contending states 
 Assumed the boasted honour of their birth. 
 
 " In Architecture, too, thy rank supreme ! 
 That art where most magnificent appears 
 The little builder man; by thee refined, 
 And, smiling high, to full perfection brought. 
 Such thy sure rules, that Goths of every age, 
 Who scorn' d their aid, have only loaded earth 
 With labour'd heavy monuments of shame. 
 Not those gay domes that o'er thy splendid shore 
 Shot, all proportion, up. First unadorn'd, 
 And nobly plain, the manly Doric rose; 
 The Ionic then, with decent matron grace, 
 Her airy pillar heaved; luxuriant last, 
 The rich Corinthian spread her wanton wreath. 
 The whole so measured true, so lessen'd off 
 By fine proportion, that the marble pile, 
 Form'd to repel the still or stormy waste 
 Of rolling ages, light as fabrics look'd 
 That from the magic wand aerial rise. 
 
 " These were the wonders that illumined Greece, 
 
 From end to end " Here interrupting warm, 
 
 "Where are they now?" I cried; "say, goddess, 
 
 where? 
 
 And what the land, thy darling thus of old?" 
 " Sunk ! " she resumed, " deep in the kindred gloom 
 Of Superstition and of Slavery, sunk ! 
 No glory now can touch their hearts, bcnumbM 
 By loose dejected slutli and servile fear; 
 No science pierce to da r frflffgft rf tV ir minds; 
 N" ii"UcT art the quick ambitious soul 
 Of imitation in their breast awake. 
 E'en to supply the needful arts of life, 
 Mechanic toil denies the hopeless hand. 
 Scarce any trace remaining, vestige grey, 
 
GREECE. 239 
 
 Or nodding column on the desert shore, 
 To point where Corinth, or where Athens stood. 
 A faithless land of violence, and death ! 
 Where commerce parleys, dubious, on the shore; 
 And his wild impulse curious search restrains, 
 Afraid to trust the inhospitable clime. 
 Neglected nature fails; in sordid want 
 Sunk, and debased, then- beauty beams no more. 
 The sun himself seems, angry, to regard, 
 Of light unworthy, the degenerate race; 
 And fires them oft with pestilential rays: 
 While earth, blue poison steaming on the skies, 
 Indignant, shakes them from her troubled sides. 
 But as from man to man, Fate's first decree, 
 Impartial Death the tide of riches rolls, 
 So states must die, and Liberty go round. 
 
 " Fierce was the stand, ere Virtue, Valour, Arts, 
 And the soul fired by me (that often, stung 
 With thoughts of better times and old renown, 
 From hydra-tyrants tried to clear the land), 
 Lay quite extinct in Greece, then* works effaced, 
 And gross o'er all unfeeling bondage spread. 
 Sooner I moved my much reluctant flight, 
 Poised on the doubtful wing: w]biejx_j3reeee with 
 
 Greece 
 
 Embroil'd in foul contention fought no more 
 For common glory, and for common weal: 
 But false to Freedom, sought to quell the free; 
 Broke the firm band of Peace, and sacred Love, 
 That lent the whole irrefragable force; 
 And, as around the partial trophy blush' d, 
 Prepared the way for total overthrow. 
 Then to the Persian power, whose pride they scorn' d, 
 When Xerxes pour'd his millions o'er the land, 
 Sparta, by turns, and Athens, vilely sued; 
 Sued to be venal parricides, to spill 
 Then: country's bravest blood, and on themselves 
 To turn their matchless mercenary arms. 
 
240 LIBEHTY. 
 
 Peaceful in Susa, then, sat the Great King,* 
 
 And by the trick of treaties, the still waste 
 
 Of sly corruption, and barbaric gold, 
 
 Effected what his steel could ne'er perform. 
 
 Profuse he gave them the luxurious draught, 
 
 Inflaming all the land: unbalanced wide 
 
 Their tottering states; their wild assemblies ruled, 
 
 As the winds turn at every blast the seas: 
 
 And by their listed orators, whose breath 
 
 Still with a factious storm infested Greece, 
 
 Roused them to civil war, or dash'd them down 
 
 To sordid peace Peace !t that, when Sparta shook 
 
 AstonishM Artaxerxes on his throne, 
 
 Gave up, fair- spread o'er Asia's sunny shore, 
 
 Their kindred cities to perpetual chains. 
 
 "What could so base, so infamous a thought 
 
 In Spartan hearts inspire 1 Jealous, they saw 
 
 Respiring Athens! rear again her walls: 
 
 And the pale fury fired them, once again 
 
 To crush this rival city to the dust. 
 
 For now no more the noble social soul 
 
 Of Liberty my families combined; 
 
 But Iff short views, and selfish passions, broke, 
 
 Dire as when friends are rankled into foes, 
 
 They mix'd severe, and waged eternal war: 
 
 Nor felt they, furious, their exhausted force; 
 
 Nor, with false glory, discord, madness blind, 
 
 Saw how the blackening storm from Thracia came. 
 
 Long years roll'd on, by many a battle stain'd, 
 
 * So the Kings of Persia were called by the Greeks. 
 
 t The peace made by Antalcidas, the Lacedemonian admiral, 
 with the Persians; by which the Lacedemonians abandoned all 
 the Greeks established in the Lesser Asia to the dominion of the 
 King of Persia. 
 
 Athens had been dismantled by the Lacedemonians, at the 
 end of the First Peloponnesian War, and was at this time restored 
 by Conon to its former splendour. 
 
 The Peloponnesian War. 
 
GREECE. 241 
 
 The blush and boast of Fame ! where courage, art, 
 
 And military glory shone supreme: 
 
 But let detesting ages, from the scene 
 
 Of Greece self-mangled, turn the sickening eye. 
 
 At last, when bleeding from a thousand wounds, 
 
 She felt her spirits fail; and in the dust 
 
 Her latest heroes, Nicias, Conon, lay, 
 
 Agesilaus, and the Theban friends:* 
 
 The Macedonian vulture mark'd his time, 
 
 By the dire scent of Cheronseaf lured, 
 
 And, fierce descending, seized his hapless prey. 
 
 "Thus tame submitted to the victor's yoke 
 Greece, once the gay, the turbulent, the bold; 
 For every grace, and muse, and science, born; 
 With arts of War, of Government elate; 
 To tyrants dreadful, dreadful to the best; 
 Whom I myself could scarcely rule: and thus 
 The Persian fetters, that enthrall'd the mind, 
 Were turn'd to formal and apparent chains. 
 
 "Unless Corruption first deject the pride 
 And guardian vigour of the freeborn soul, 
 All crude attempts of Violence are vain; 
 For firm within, and while at. heart untouch'd, 
 Ne'er yet by force was Freedom overcome. 
 But soon as Independence stoops the head, 
 To Vice enslaved, and vice-created Wants; 
 Then to some foul corrupting hand, whose waste 
 These heightened wants with fatal bounty feeds; 
 From man to man the slackening ruin runs, 
 Till the whole state unnerved in Slavery sinks." 
 
 * Pelopidas and Epaminondas. 
 
 ^ The battle of Cheronaea, in which Philip of Macedon utterly 
 defeated the Greeks. 
 
L I B E E T Y. 
 
 PART III. 
 ROME. 
 
 As this part contains a description of the establishment of Liberty in Rome, 
 it begins with a view of the Grecian Colonies settled in the southern 
 parts of Italy, which with Sicily constituted the Great Greece of the 
 Ancients. With these colonies, the Spirit of Liberty, and of Republics, 
 spreads over Italy. Transition to Pythagoras and his philosophy, which 
 he taught through these free states and cities. Amidst the many small 
 Republics in Italy, Rome the destined seat of Liberty. Her establish- 
 ment there dated from the expulsion of the Tarquins. How differing 
 from that in Greece. Reference to a view of the Roman Republic given 
 in the First Part of this Poem: to mark its Rise and Fall, the peculiar 
 purport of this. During its first ages, the greatest force of Liberty and 
 Virtue exerted. The source whence derived. The Heroic Virtues of 
 the Romans. Enumeration of these Virtues. Thence their security at 
 home; their glory, success, and empire abroad. Bounds of the Roman 
 empire geographically described. The states of Greece restored to 
 Liberty, by Titus Quintns Flaminius, the highest instance of public 
 generosity and beneficence. The loss of Liberty in Rome. Its causes, 
 progress, and completion in the death of Brutus. Rome under the Em- 
 perors. From Rome the Goddess of Liberty goes among the Northern 
 Nations ; where, by infusing into them her Spirit and general principles, 
 she lays the groundwork of her future establishments ; sends them in 
 vengeance on the Roman Empire, now totally enslaved; and then, with 
 Arts and Sciences in her train, quits earth during the dark a^es. Tho 
 celestial regions, to which Liberty retired, not proper to be opened to 
 the view of mortals. 
 
 HERE melting mix'd with air the ideal forms 
 That painted still whate'er the goddess sung. 
 Then I, impatient. " From extinguish'd Greece, 
 To what new region stream'd the Human Day?" 
 She softly sighing, as when Zephyr leaves, 
 Resign'd to Boreas, the declining year, 
 Resumed. " Indignant, these last scenes I fled;* 
 
 * The last struggles of Liberty in Greece. 
 
HOME. 243 
 
 And long ere then Leucadia's cloudy cliff, 
 
 And the Ceraunian hills behind me thrown, 
 
 All Latium stood aroused. Ages before, 
 
 Gieat mother of republics! Greece had pour'd, 
 
 Swarm after swarm, her ardent youth around. 
 
 On Asia, Afric, Sicily, they stoop'd, 
 
 But chief on fair Hesperia's winding shore; 
 
 Where, from Lacinium* to Etrurian vales, 
 
 They roll'd increasing colonies along, 
 
 And lent materials for my Roman reign. 
 
 With them my spirit spread; and numerous states, 
 
 And cities rose, on Grecian models form'd; 
 
 As its parental policy and arts 
 
 Each had imbibed. Besides, to each assign'd 
 
 A guardian Genius, o'er the public weal, 
 
 Kept an unclosing eye; tried to sustain, 
 
 Or more sublime, the soul infused by me: 
 
 And strong the battle rose, with various wave, 
 
 Against the tyrant demons of the land. 
 
 Thus they their little wars and triumphs knew; 
 
 Their flows of fortune, and receding times; 
 
 But almost all below the proud regard 
 
 Of story vow'd to Rome, on deeds intent 
 
 That Truth beyond the flight of Fable bore. 
 
 "Not so the Samian Sage;t to him belongs 
 The brightest witness of recording Fame. 
 For these free states his native islej forsook, 
 And a vain tyrant's transitory smile, 
 He sought Crotona's pure salubrious air; 
 And through Great Greece his gentle wisdom taught; 
 Wisdom that calm'd for listening years] | the mind, 
 
 * A promonotory in Calabria, 
 f Pythagoras. 
 
 J Samos, over which then reigned the tyrant Polycrates. 
 The southern parts of Italy and Sicily, so called because of 
 the Grecian colonies there settled. 
 || His scholars were enjoined silence for five years. 
 
244 LIBERTY. 
 
 Nor ever heard amid the storm of zeal. 
 His mental eye first launch'd into the deeps 
 Of boundless ether; where unnumber'd orbs, 
 Myriads on myriads, through the pathless sky 
 Unerring roll, and wind their steady way. 
 There he the full consenting choir beheld; 
 There first discern'd the secret band of love, 
 The kind attraction, that to central suns 
 Binds circling earths, and world with world unites; 
 Instructed thence, he great ideas forin'd 
 Of the whole-moving, all-informing God, 
 The sun of beings ! beaming unconfined 
 Light, life, and love, and ever active power: 
 Whom nought can image, and who best approves 
 The silent worship of the moral heart, 
 That joys in bounteous Heaven, and spreads the joy. 
 Nor scora'd the soaring sage to stoop to life, 
 And bound his reason to the sphere of man. 
 He gave the four yet reigning virtues* name; 
 Inspired the study of the finer arts, 
 That civilise mankind, and laws devised 
 Where with enlighteri'd justice mercy mix'd, 
 He e'en into his tender system took 
 Whatever shares the brotherhood of life: 
 He taught that life's indissoluble flame, 
 From brute to man, and man to brute again, 
 For ever shifting, runs the eternal round; 
 Thence tried against the blood-polluted meal, 
 And limbs yet quivering with some kindred soul, 
 To turn the human heart. Delightful truth 1 
 Had he beheld the living chain ascend, 
 And not a circling form but rising whole. 
 "Amid these small republics one arose 
 On yellow Tiber's bank, almighty Rome, 
 Fated for me. A nobler spirit warm'd 
 Her sons; and, roused by tyrants, nobler still 
 
 * The four cardinal virtues. 
 
245 
 
 It burn'd in Brutus; the proud Tarquins chased, 
 With all their crimes; bade radiant eras rise, 
 And the long honours of the Consul-line. 
 
 " Here from the fairer, not the greater, plan 
 Of Greece 1.. varied; whose unmixing states, 
 By the keen soul of emulation pierced, 
 Long waged alone the bloodless war of arts, 
 And their best empire gain'd. But to diffuse 
 O'er men an empire was my purpose now: 
 To let my martial majesty abroad; 
 Into the vortex of one state to draw 
 The whole mix'd force, and liberty, on earth; 
 To conquer tyrants, and set nations free. 
 
 " Already have I given, with flying touch, 
 A broken view of this my amplest reign. 
 Now, while its first, last, periods you survey, 
 Mark how it labouring rose, and rapid fell. 
 
 " When Rome in noontide empire grasp' d the world, 
 And, soon as her resistless legions shone, 
 The nations stoop'd around; though then appear'd 
 Her grandeur most; yet in her dawn of power, 
 By many a jealous equal people pressed, 
 Then was the toil, the mighty struggle then; 
 Then for each Roman I a hero told; 
 And every passing sun, and Latian scene, 
 Saw patriot virtues then, and awful deeds, 
 That or 'surpass the faith of modern times, 
 Or, if believed, with sacred horror strike. 
 
 " For then, to prove my most exalted power, 
 I to the point of full perfection push'd, 
 To fondness and enthusiastic zeal, 
 The great, the reigning passion of the free; 
 That godlike passion! which, the bounds of self 
 Divinely bursting, the whole public takes 
 Into the heart, enlarged, and burning high 
 With the mix'd ardour of unnumber'd selves; 
 Of all who safe beneath the voted laws 
 Of the same parent state, fraternal, live. 
 
246 LIBERTY. 
 
 From this kind sun of moral nature flow*d 
 Virtues, that shine the light of human-kind, 
 And, ray'd through story, warm remotest tune. 
 These virtues too, reflected to their source. 
 Increased its flame. The social charm went round. 
 The fair idea, more attractive still, 
 As more by virtue mark'd; till Romans, all 
 One hand of friends, unconquerable grew. 
 
 " Hence, when their country raised her plaintive voice. 
 The voice of pleading Nature was not heard; 
 And in their hearts the fathers throbb'd no more; 
 Stem to themselves, but gentle to the whole. 
 Hence sweeten'd Pain, the luxury of toil; 
 Patience, that baffled fortune's utmost rage; 
 High-minded Hope, which at the lowest ebb, 
 When Brennus conquer'd, and when Cannae bled, 
 The bravest impulse felt, and scorn'd despair. 
 Hence Moderation a new conquest gain'd: 
 As on the vanquish'd, like descending heaven, 
 Then* dewy mercy dropp'd, the bounty beam'd, 
 And by the labouring hand were crowns bestow'd. 
 Fruitful of men, hence hard laborious life, 
 Which no fatigue can quell, no season pierce. 
 Hence, Independence, with his little pleased 
 Serene, aM^elf-stffiicient, like a god; 
 In whom Corruption could not lodge one charm, 
 While he his honest roots to gold preferred; 
 While truly rich, and by his Sabine field, 
 The man maintain'd, the Roman's splendour all 
 Was in the public wealth and glory placed: 
 Or ready, a rough swain, to guide the plough; 
 Or else, the purple o'er his shoulder thrown, 
 In long majestic flow, to rule the state, 
 With Wisdom's purest eye; or, clad in steel, 
 To drive the steady battle on the foe. 
 Hence every passion, e'en the proudest, stoop'd 
 To common good: Camillus, thy revenge; 
 Thy glory, Fabius. All submissive hence, 
 
ROME. 247 
 
 Consuls, Dictators, still resigned their rule, 
 
 The very moment that the laws ordain'd. 
 
 Though Conquest o'er them clapp'd her eagle-wings, 
 
 Her laurels wreathed, and yoked her snowy steeds 
 
 To the triumphal car; soon as expired 
 
 The latest hour of sway, taught to submit 
 
 (A harder lesson that than to command), 
 
 Into the private Roman sunk the chief: 
 
 If Rome was served, and glorious, careless they 
 
 By whpnj, Their country's fame they deem'd their own; 
 
 And above envy, in a rival's train, 
 
 Sung the loud I6s by themselves deserved. 
 
 Hence matchless courage. On Cremera's bank, 
 
 Hence fell the Fabii; hence the Deeii died; 
 
 And Curtius plunged into the flaming gulf. 
 
 Hence Regulus the wavering fathers firm'd, 
 
 By dreadful counsel never given before; 
 
 For Roman honour sued, and his own doom. 
 
 Hence he sustain'd to dare a death prepared 
 
 By Punic rage. On earth his manly look 
 
 Relentless fix'd, he from a last embrace, 
 
 By chains polluted, put his wife aside, 
 
 His little children climbing for a kiss; 
 
 Then dumb through rows of weeping, wondering friends, 
 
 A new illustrious exile ! press'd along. 
 
 Nor less impatient did he pierce the crowds 
 
 Opposing his return, than if, escaped 
 
 From long litigious suits, he glad forsook, 
 
 The noisy town awhile and city-cloud, 
 
 To breathe Venafrian, or Tarentine air. 
 
 Need I these high particulars recount ? 
 
 The meanest bosom felt a thirst for fame; 
 
 Flight their worst death, and shame their only fear. 
 
 Life had no charms, nor any terrors fate, 
 
 When Rome and glory call'd. But, in one view, 
 
 Mark the rare boast of these unequalTd times. 
 
 Ages revolved unsullied by a crime: 
 
 Astrca reign' d ; and scarcely needed laws 
 
248 LIBERT r. 
 
 To bind a race elated with the pride 
 Of virtue, and disdaining to descend 
 To meanness, mutual violence, and wrongs. 
 While war around them raged, in happy Rome 
 All peaceful smiled, all save the passing clouds 
 That often hang on Freedom's jealous brow; 
 And fair unblemished centuries elapsed, 
 JVTien not a Roman bled but in the field. 
 Their virtue such, that an unbalanced state, 
 Still between Noble and Plebeian tost, 
 As flow'd the wave of fluctuating power, 
 Was then kept firm, and with triumphant prow 
 JRode out the storms. Oft though the native feuds, 
 That from the first their constitution shook 
 (A latent ruin, growing as it grew), 
 Stood on the threatening point of civil war, 
 Ready to rush: yet could the lenient voice 
 Of wisdom, soothing the tumultuous soul, 
 Those sons of virtue calm. Their generous hearts 
 Unpetrified by self, so naked lay., 
 And sensible to Truth, that o'er the rage 
 Of giddj faction, by oppression swell' d, 
 Prevail'd a simple fable, and at once 
 To peace recovered the divided state. 
 But if their often cheated hopes refused 
 The soothing touch; still, in the love of Rome, 
 The dread Dictator found a sure resource. 
 Was she assaulted ? was her glory stain'd ? 
 One common quarrel wide inflamed the whole. 
 Foes in the forum, in the field were friends, 
 By social danger bound; each fond for each, 
 And for their dearest country all, to die. 
 
 " Thus up the hill of empire slow they toil'd: 
 Till, the bold summit gain'd, the thousand states 
 Of proud Italia blended into one; 
 Then o'er the nations they resistless mshM, 
 And touch'd the limits of the failing world. 
 
 " Let Fancy's eye the distant lines unite. 
 
ROME. 249 
 
 See that which borders wild the western main, 
 
 Where storms at large resound, and tides immense; 
 
 From Caledonia's dim cerulean coast, 
 
 And moist Hibernia, to where Atlas, lodged 
 
 Amid the restless clouds and leaning heaven, 
 
 Hangs o'er the deep that borrows thence its name. 
 
 Mark that opposed, where first the springing morn 
 
 Her roses sheds, and shakes around her dews: 
 
 From the dire deserts by the Caspian laved, 
 
 To where the Tigris and Euphrates, join'd, 
 
 Impetuous tear the Babylonian plain; 
 
 And bless'd Arabia aromatic breathes. 
 
 See that dividing far the watery north, 
 
 Parent of floods ! from the majestic Rhine, 
 
 Drunk by Batavian meads, to where, seven-mouth'd, 
 
 In Euxine waves the flashing Danube roars; 
 
 To where the frozen Tanais scarcely stirs 
 
 The dead Meotic pool, or the long Rha* 
 
 In the black Scythian seat his torrent throws. 
 
 Last, that beneath the burning zone behold: 
 
 See where it runs, from the deep-loaded plains 
 
 Of Mauritania to the Libyan sands, 
 
 Where Ammon lifts amid the torrid waste 
 
 A verdant isle, with shade and fountain fresh; 
 
 And farther to the full Egyptian shore, 
 
 To where the Nile from Ethiopian clouds, 
 
 His never drain'd ethereal urn, descends. 
 
 In this vast space what various tongues, and states ! 
 
 What bounding rocks, and mountains, floods, and seas ! 
 
 What purple tyrants quell'd, and nations freed ! 
 
 "O'er Greece, descended chief, with stealth divine, 
 The Roman bounty in a flood of day: 
 As at her Isthmian games, a fading pomp ! 
 Her full-assembled youth innumerous swarm' d. 
 On a tribunal raised, Flaminius sat: 
 A victor he, from the deep phalanx pierced 
 
 * The ancient name of the Volga. -f The Caspian Sea. 
 
250 LIBERTY. 
 
 Of iron-coated Macedon, and back 
 
 The Grecian tyrant* to his bounds repell'd. 
 
 In the high thoughtless gaiety of game, 
 
 While sport alone their unambitious hearts 
 
 Possess' d, the sudden trumpet, sounding hoarse, 
 
 Bade silence o'er the bright assembly reign. 
 
 Then thus a herald: 'To the states of Greece 
 
 The Roman people, unconfined, restore 
 
 Their countries, cities, liberties, and laws: 
 
 Taxes remit, and garrisons withdraw.' 
 
 The crowd, astonish'd half, and half inform'd, 
 
 Stared dubious round; some question'd, some exclaim'd 
 
 (Like one who, dreaming, between hope and fear, 
 
 Is lost in anxious joy), ' Be that again, 
 
 Be that again proclaim'd, distinct and loud.' 
 
 Loud, and distinct, it was again proclaim'd; 
 
 And still as midnight in the rural shade, 
 
 When the gale slumbers, they the words devour'd. 
 
 Awhile severe amazement held them mute, 
 
 Then, bursting broad, the boundless shout to Heaven 
 
 From many a thousand hearts ecstatic sprung. 
 
 On every hand rebellow'd to their joy 
 
 The swelling sea, the rocks, and vocal hills: 
 
 Through all her turrets stately Corintht shook; 
 
 And, from the void above of shattered air, 
 
 The flitting bird fell breathless to the ground. 
 
 What piercing bliss, how keen a sense of fame, 
 
 Did then, Flaminius, reach thy inmost soul ! 
 
 And with what deep-felt glory didst thou then 
 
 Escape the fondness of transported Greece? 
 
 Mix'd in a tempest of superior joy, 
 
 They left the sports; like Bacchanals they flew, 
 
 Each other straining in a strict embrace, 
 
 Nor strain'd a slave; and loud acclaims till night 
 
 Round the Proconsul's tent repeated rung. 
 
 Then crown'd with garlands came the festive hours; 
 
 * The King of Macedonia. 
 
 t The Isthmian Games were celebrated at Corinth. 
 
251 
 
 And music, sparkling wine, and converse warm, 
 
 Their raptures waked anew. ' Ye gods ! ' they cried, 
 
 ' Ye guardian gods of Greece ! and are we free ? 
 
 Was it not madness deem'd the very thought 1 
 
 And is it true ? How did we purchase chains] 
 
 At what a dire expense of kindred blood ? 
 
 And are they now dissolved 1 And scarce one drop 
 
 For the fair first of blessings have we paid ? 
 
 Courage, and conduct, in the doubtful field, 
 
 When rages wide the storm of mingling war, 
 
 Are rare indeed; but how to generous ends 
 
 To turn success, and conquest, rarer still: 
 
 That the great gods and Romans only know. 
 
 Lives there on earth, almost to Greece unknown. 
 
 A people so magnanimous, to quit 
 
 Then* native soil, traverse the stormy deep, 
 
 And by their blood and treasure, spent for us, 
 
 IU|leem our states, our liberties, and laws ! 
 
 rfteredoes! there does! Oh saviour, Titus ! Rome!' 
 
 Thus through the happy night they pour'd their souk 
 
 And in my last reflected beams rejoiced. 
 
 As when the shepherd, on the mountain-brow, 
 
 Sits piping to his flocks and gamesome kids; 
 
 Meantime the sun, beneath the green earth sunk, 
 
 Slants upward o'er the scene a parting gleam: 
 
 Short is the glory that the mountain gilds, 
 
 Plays on the glittering flocks, and glads the swain; 
 
 To western worlds irrevocable rolPd, 
 
 Rapid, the source of light recalls his ray." 
 
 Here interposing I " Oh, Queen of men ! 
 Beneath whose sceptre in essential rights 
 Equal they live; though placed for common good, 
 Various, of In subjection or command; 
 And that by common choice: alas ! the scene, 
 With virtue, freedom, and with glory bright, 
 Streams into blood, and darkens into wo." 
 Thus she pursued: " Near this great era, Rome 
 Began to feel the swift approach of fate, 
 s 
 
252 LIBERTY. 
 
 That now her vitals gain'd: still more and more 
 II er deep divisions kindling into rage, 
 And war with pains and desolation charged. 
 From an unequal balance of her sons 
 These fierce contentions sprung: and, as increased 
 This hated inequality, more fierce 
 They flamed to tumult. Independence fail'd; 
 Here by luxurious wants, by real there; 
 And with this virtue every virtue sunk, 
 As, with the sliding rock, the pile sustain'd. 
 A last attempt, too late, the Gracchi made, 
 To fix the flying scale, and poise the state. 
 On one side swell'd aristocratic Pride; 
 With Usury, the villain ! whose fell gripe 
 Bends by degrees to baseness the free soul; 
 And Luxury rapacious, cruel, mean, 
 Mother of vice ! While on the other crept 
 A populace in want, with pleasure fired; 
 Fit for proscriptions, for the darkest deeds, 
 As the proud feeder bade; inconstant, blind, 
 Deserting friends at need, and duped by foes; 
 Loud and seditious, when a chief inspired 
 Their headlong fury, but of him deprived, 
 Already slaves that lick'd the scourging hand. 
 te This firm republic, that against the blast 
 Of opposition rose; that (like an oak, 
 Nursed on ferocious Algidum,* whose boughs 
 Still stronger shoot beneath the rigid axe), 
 By loss, by slaughter, from the steel itself 
 E'en force and spirit drew; smit with the calm, 
 The dead serene of prosperous fortune, pined, 
 Nought now her weighty legions could oppose; 
 Hert terror once, on Afric's tawny shore, 
 Now smoked in dust, a stabling now for wolves; 
 And every dreaded power received the yoke. 
 Besides, destructive, from the con(jueiMJJast, 
 
 * A town of Latium, near Tusculuin. { Carthage. 
 

 253 
 
 In the soft plunder caine that worst cf plagues, 
 That pestilence of mind, a fever'd thirst 
 For "the false joys which Luxury prepares. 
 Unworthy joys ! that wasteful leave behind 
 No mark of honour, in reflecting hour, 
 No secret ray to glad the conscious soul; 
 At once involving in one ruin wealth, 
 And wealth-acquiring powers: while stupid self, 
 Of narrow gust, and hebetating sense, 
 Devour the nobler faculties of bliss. 
 Hence Roman virtue slacken'd into sloth; 
 Security relaxed the softening state; 
 And the broad eye of government lay closed. 
 No more the laws inviolable reign' d, 
 And public weal no more: but party raged; 
 And partial power, and license imrestrain'd, 
 Let Discord through the deathful city loose. 
 FifsT^'milcl Tiberius,* on thy sacred head 
 The fury's vengeance fell; the first, whose blood 
 Had since the consuls stain'd contending Rome. 
 Of precedent pernicious ! with thee bled 
 Three hundred Romans; with thy brother, next, 
 Three thousand more: till, into battles turn'd 
 Debates of peace, and forced the trembling laws, 
 The Forum and Comitia horrid grew, 
 A scene of barter'd power, or reeking gore. 
 When, half ashamed, Corruption's thievish arts 
 And ruffian force begin to sap the mounds 
 And majesty of laws; if not in time 
 Repress'd severe, for human aid too strong 
 The torrent turns, and overbears the whole. 
 "Thus LjixurVj Di^nsion^ a mix'd rage 
 Of boundless pleasure and of boundless wealth, 
 Want-"wlshing change, and waste-repairing war, 
 RapmTToTever lost to peaceful toil, 
 Guilt^unajxmed, profuse ,of blood Revenge, 
 
 * Tiberius Gracchus. 
 
254 LIBERTY. 
 
 Corruption all avow'd, and lawless Force, 
 Each heightening each, alternate shook the state. 
 Meantime Ambition, at the dazzling head 
 Of hardy legions, with the laurels heap'd 
 And spoil of nations, in one circling blast 
 Combined "in various storm, and from its base 
 The broad republic tore. By Virtue built, 
 It touch'd the skies, and spread o'er sheltered earth 
 An ample roof: by Virtue too sustain'd, 
 And balanced steady, every tempest sung 
 Innoxious by, or bade it firmer stand. 
 But when, with sudden and enormous change, 
 The first of mankind sunk into the last, 
 As once in Virtue, so in Vice extreme, 
 This universal fabric yielded loose, 
 Before Ambition still; and thundering down, 
 At last beneath its ruins crush'd a world. 
 A conquering people, to themselves a prey, 
 .Must ever fall; when their victorious troops, 
 [ In blood and rapine savage grown, can find 
 \ No land to sack and pillage but their own. 
 "By brutal Marius, and keen Sy.Ua, first 
 Effused the deluge dire of civil blood, 
 Unceasing woes began, and this, or that, 
 Deep-drenching their revenge, nor virtue spared , 
 Nor sex, nor age, nor quality, nor name; 
 Till Rome, into a human shambles turn'd, 
 Made deserts lovely. Oh, to well-earn'd chains, 
 Devoted race ! If no true Roman then, 
 No Scaevola there was, to raise for me 
 A vengeful hand: was there no father, robb'd 
 Of blooming youth to prop his withered age ? 
 No son, a witness to his hoary sire 
 In dust and gore defiled? no friend, forlorn? 
 No wretch that doubtful trembled for himself ? 
 None brave, or wild, to pierce a monster's heart, 
 Who, heaping horror round, no more deserved 
 The sacred shelter of the laws he spurn'd ? 
 
ROME. 255 
 
 No: Sad o'er all profound dejection sat; 
 
 And nerveless fear. The slave's asylum theirs. 
 
 Or flight, ill-judging, that the timid back 
 
 Turns weak to slaughter; or partaken guilt. 
 
 In vain from SyJJa^s vanity I drew 
 
 An unexampled deed. The power resigned, 
 
 And all unhoped the commonwealth restored, 
 
 Amazed the public, and effaced his crimes. 
 
 Through streets yet streaming from his murderous hand 
 
 Unarm'd he stray'd, unguarded, unassail'd, 
 
 And on the bed of peace his ashes laid; 
 
 A grace, which I to his demission gave. 
 
 But with him died not the despotic soul. 
 
 Ambition saw that stooping Rome could bear 
 
 A master, ,nor had virtue to be free. 
 
 Hence for succeeding years my troubled reign 
 
 No certain peace, no spreading prospect knew. 
 
 Destruction gathered round. Still the black soul, 
 
 Or of a Catiline, or Rullus,* swell'd 
 
 With fell designs; and all the watchful art 
 
 Of Qjcggg, demanded, all the force, % 
 
 All the state-wielding magic of his tongue; 
 
 And all the thunder of my Cato's zeal. 
 
 With these I lingered; till the flame anew 
 
 Burst* out, in blaze immense, and wrapt the world. 
 
 The shameful contest sprung; to whom mankind 
 
 Should yield the neck: to Pompey, who conceal'd 
 
 A rage_ impatient of an equal name; 
 
 Or to the nobler Cassar, on whose brow 
 
 O'er daring vice deluding virtue smiled, 
 
 And who no less a vain superior scorn'd. 
 
 Both bled, but bled in vain. New traitors rose. 
 
 The venal will be bought, the base have lords. 
 
 To these vile wars I left ambitious slaves; 
 
 * Publius Servilius Rullus, tribune of the people, proposed 
 an Agrarian Law, in appearance very advantageous for the 
 people, but destructive of their liberty: and which was de- 
 feated by the eloquence of Cicero, in his speech against Rullus. 
 
256 LIBERTY. 
 
 And from Philippi's field, from where in dust 
 The last of Romans, matchless Brutus ! lay, 
 Spread to the north untamed a rapid wing. 
 
 "What though the first smooth Caesars arts caress'd, 
 Merit, and virtue, stimulating me 
 Severely tender ! cruelly humane ! 
 The chain to clinch, and make it softer sit 
 On the new-broken still ferocious state. 
 From the dark Third,* succeeding, I beheld 
 The imperial monsters all. A race on earth 
 Vindictive, sent the scourge of human-kind ! 
 Whose blind profusion drain'd a bankrupt world; 
 Whose lust to forming nature seems disgrace; 
 And whose infernal rage bade every drop 
 Of ancient blood, that yet retain'd my flame, 
 To that of Paetus,t in the peaceful bath, 
 Or Rome's affrighted streets, inglorious flow. 
 But almost just the meanly patient death, 
 That waits a tyrant's unprevented stroke. 
 Titus indeed gave one short evening gleam; 
 More cordial felt, as in the midst it spread 
 Of storm, and horror. The delight of men ! 
 He who the day, when his o'erflowing hand 
 Had made no happy heart, concluded lost; 
 Trajan and he, with the mild sire^ and son, 
 His son of virtue ! eased awhile mankind; 
 And arts revived beneath their gentle beam. 
 Then was their last effort: what sculpture raised 
 To Trajan's glory, following triumphs stole; 
 
 * Tiberius. 
 
 t Thrasea Psetus, put to death by Nero. Tacitus introduces 
 the account he gives of his death, thus: "After having inhu- 
 manly slaughtered so many illustrious men, he (Nero) burned at 
 last with a desire of cutting off virtue itself in the person of 
 Thrasea/' &c. 
 
 Antoninus Pius, and his adopted son, Marcus Aurelius, after- 
 words called Antoninus Philosophus. 
 
ROME. 257 
 
 And mix'd with Gothic forms (the chisel's shame), 
 On that triumphal arch,* the forms of Greece. 
 
 "Meantime o'er rocky Thrace, and the deep vales 
 Of gelid Haeinus, I pursued my flight; 
 And, piercing farthest Scythia, westward swept 
 Sarmatia,t traversed by a thousand streams, 
 A sullen land of lakes, and fens immense, 
 Of rocks, resounding torrents, gloomy heaths, 
 And cruel deserts black with sounding pine; 
 Where nature frowns: though sometimes into smiles 
 She softens; and immediate, at the touch 
 Of southern gales, throws from the sudden glebe 
 Luxuriant pasture, and a waste of flowers. 
 But, cold-compress'd, when the whole loaded heaven 
 Descends in snow, lost in one white abrupt, 
 Lies undistinguished earth; and, seized by frost, 
 Lakes, headlong streams, and floods, and oceans sleep. 
 Yet there life glows; the furry millions there 
 Deep dig their dens beneath the sheltering snows: 
 And there a race of men prolific swarms, 
 To various pain, to little pleasure used; 
 On whom, keen-parching, beat Riphaean winds; 
 Hard like their soil, and like their climate fierce, 
 Thejmrsery of nations ! These I roused, 
 Drove land on land, on people people pour'd; 
 Till, from almost perpetual night they broke, 
 As jfjn search of clay; and o'er the banks 
 Of yielding empire, only slave-sustain' d, 
 Resistless raged; in vengeance urged by me. 
 
 " Long in the barbarous heart the buried seeds 
 Of Freedom lay, for many a wintry age; 
 And'tliough my spirit work'd, by slow degrees, 
 Nought but its pride and fierceness yet appear*d. 
 
 * Constantino's Arch, to build which, that of Trajan was de- 
 stroyed, sculpture having been then almost entirely lost. 
 
 t The ancient Sarmatia contained a vast tract of country run- 
 ning all along the north of Europe and Asia. 
 
258 LIBERTY. 
 
 Then was the night of time, that parted worlds. 
 I quitted earth the while. As when the tribes 
 Aerial, warn'd of rising winter, ride 
 Autumnal winds, to warmer climates borne; 
 So, arts and each good genius in my train, 
 I cut the closing gloom, and soar'd to heaven. 
 " In the bright regions there of purest day, 
 Far other scenes, and palaces, arise, 
 Adorn'd profuse with other arts divine. 
 All beauty here below, to them compared, 
 Would, like a rose before the mid-day sun, 
 Shrink up its blossom; like a bubble break 
 The passing poor magnificence of kings, 
 For there the King of Nature, in full blaze, 
 Calls every splendour forth; and there his court, 
 Amid ethereal powers, and virtues, holds: 
 Angel, archangel, tutelary gods, 
 Of cities, nations, empires, and of worlds. 
 But sacred be the veil, that kindly clouds 
 A light too keen for mortals; wraps a view 
 Too softening fair, for those that here in dust 
 Must cheerful toil out their appointed years. 
 A sense of higher life would only damp 
 The schoolboy's task, and spoil his playful hours. 
 Nor could the child of Reason, feeble man, 
 With vigour through this infant-being drudge; 
 Did brighter worlds, then: unimagined bliss 
 Disclosing, dazzle and dissolve his mind." 
 
LIBERTY. 
 
 PART IV. 
 BRITAIN. 
 
 Difference betwixt the Ancients and Moderns slightly touched upon. 
 Description of the dark ages. -The Goddess of Liberty, who during 
 these is supposed to have left earth, returns, attended with Arts and 
 Science. She first descends on Italy. Sculpture, Painting, and Archi- 
 tecture fix at Rome, to revive their several arts by the great models of 
 antiquity there, which many barbarous invasions had not been able to 
 destroy. The revival of these arts marked out. That sometimes arts 
 may flourish for awhile under despotic governments, though never the 
 natural and genuine production of them. Learning begins to dawn. 
 The Muse and Science attend Liberty, who in her progress towards Great 
 Britain raises several free states and cities. These enumerated. 
 Author's exclamation of joy, upon seeing the British seas and coasts rise 
 in the vision, which painted whatever the Goddess of Liberty said. She 
 resumes her narration. The Genius of the Deep appears, and address- 
 ing Liberty, associates Great Britain into his dominion. Liberty re- 
 ceived and congratulated by Britannia, and the native Genii or Virtues of 
 the island. These described. Animated by the presence of Liberty, 
 they begin their operations. Their beneficent influence contrasted 
 with the works and delusions of opposing Demons. Concludes with an 
 abstract of the English history, marking the several Advances of 
 Liberty, down to her complete establishment at the Kevolution. 
 
 STRUCK with the rising scene, thus I amazed: 
 " Ah, Goddess, what a change 1 is earth the same ? 
 Of the same kind the ruthless race she feeds'? 
 And does the same fair sun and ether spread 
 Round this vile spot their all-enlivening soul 1 
 Lo ! beauty fails; lost in unlovely forms 
 Of little pomp, magnificence no more 
 
260 LIBERTY. 
 
 Exalts the mind, and bids the public smile, 
 While to rapacious interest Glory leaves 
 Mankind, and every grace of life is gone." 
 
 To this the Power, whose vital radiance calls 
 From the brute mass of man an order'd world: 
 
 " Wait till the morning shines, and from the depth 
 Of Gothic darkness springs another day. 
 True, Genius droops; the tender ancient taste 
 Of Beauty, then fresh blooming in her prime, 
 But faintly trembles through the callous soul; 
 And Grandeur, or of morals, or of life, 
 Sinks into safe pursuits, and creeping cares. 
 E'en cautious Virtue seems to stoop her flight, 
 And aged life to deem the generous deeds 
 Of youth romantic. Yet hi cooler thought 
 Well reason'd, in researches piercing deep 
 Through nature's works, in profitable arts, 
 And all that calm Experience can disclose 
 (Slow guide, but sure), behold the world anew 
 Exalted rise; with other honours crow'nd; 
 And, where my Spirit wakes the finer powers, 
 Athenian laurels still afresh shall bloom. 
 
 " Oblivious ages pass'd; while earth, forsook 
 By her best Genii, lay to Demons foul, 
 And unchain'd Furies, an abandon'd prey. 
 Contention led the van; first small of size, 
 But soon dilating to the skies she towers: 
 Then, wide as ah-, the livid Fury spread, 
 And high her head above the stormy clouds, 
 She blazed in omens, swcll'd the groaning winds 
 With wild surmises, battlings, sounds of war: 
 From land to land the maddening trumpet blew, 
 And pour'd her venom through the heart of man. 
 Shook to the pole, the North obey*d her call. 
 Forth rush'd the bloody power of Gothic war, 
 War against human-kind: Rapine, that led 
 Millions of raging robbers in his train: 
 Unlistening, barbarous Force, to whom thesword 
 
2Gi 
 
 Is reason, honour, law: the foe of arts 
 
 By monsters follow' d, hideous to behold, 
 
 That claim d ineir place. Outrages mix'd with these 
 
 Another .species of tyrannic* rule; 
 
 Unknown before, whose cankerous shackles seized 
 
 The envenom'd soul; a wilder Fury, she 
 
 Eve^ojer her Elder Sistert tyrannised; 
 
 Or, if perchance agreed, inflamed her rage. 
 
 Dire was her train, and loud: the sable band, 
 
 Thundering: ' Submit, ye Laity ! ye profane ! 
 
 Earth is the Lord's, and therefore ours; let kings 
 
 Allow the common claim, and half be theirs; 
 
 If not, behold, the sacred lightning flies !' 
 
 Scholastic Discord, with a hundred tongues, 
 
 For science uttering jangling words obscure, 
 
 Where frighted reason never yet could dwell: 
 
 Of peremptory feature, cleric Pride, 
 
 Whose reddening cheek no contradiction bears; 
 
 And holy Slander, his associate firm, 
 
 On whom the lying Spirit still descends: 
 
 Mother of tortures! persecuting Zeal; 
 
 High flashing in her hand the ready torch, 
 
 Or poniard bathed in unbelieving blood; 
 
 Hell's fiercest fiend ! of saintly brow demure, 
 
 Assuming a celestial seraph's name, 
 
 While she, beneath the blasphemous pretence 
 
 Of pleasing Parent Heaven, the'Source of Love ! 
 
 Hasjvvrought more horrors, more detested deeds, 
 
 Than all the rest combined. Led on by her, 
 
 And wild of head to work her fell designs, 
 
 Came idiot Superstition; round with ears 
 
 Innumerous strow'd, ten thousand monkish forms 
 
 With legends ply'd them, and with tenets, meant 
 
 To charm or scare the simple into slaves, 
 
 Arictrpoison reason; gross, she swallows all, 
 
 * Church power, or ecclesiastical tyranny, 
 f Civil Tyranny. 
 
262 LIBERTY. 
 
 The most absurd believing ever most. 
 Broad o r er the whole her universal night, 
 The gloom still doubling, Ignorance diffused. 
 "Nought to be seen, but visionary monks 
 To councils strolling, and embroiling creeds; 
 Banditti Saints,* disturbing distant lands; 
 And unknown nations, wandering for a home. 
 All lay reversed: the sacred arts of rule 
 Turn'd to flagitious leagues against mankind, 
 And arts of plunder more and more avow'd; 
 Pure plain Devotiont to a solemn farce; 
 To^Iioly dotage Virtue, even to guile, 
 To murder, and a mockery of oaths; 
 Brave ancient Freedom to the rage of slaves,J 
 Proud of their state, and righting for their chains; 
 Dishonoured Courage to the bravo's trade, 
 To civil broil; and Glory to romance. 
 ; Thus human life, unhinged, to ruin reel'd, 
 And giddy Reason totter'd on her throne. 
 
 " At last Heaven's best inexplicable scheme, 
 Disclosing, bade new brightening eras smile. 
 The high command" gone forth, Arts in my train, 
 And azure-mantled Science, swift we spread 
 A sounding pinion. Eager pity, mix'd 
 With indignation, urged her downward flight. 
 On Latium first we stoop'd, for doubtful life 
 That panted, sunk beneath unnumber'd woes. 
 Ah, poor Italia! what a bitter cup 
 Of vengeance hast thou drain'd ? Goths, Vandals, Huns, 
 Lombards, barbarians broke from every land, 
 How many a ruffian form hast thou beheld ? 
 What horrid jargons heard, where rage alone 
 Was all thy frighted ear could comprehend ? 
 
 * Crusades. 
 
 t The corruptions of the Church of Rome. 
 
 J Vassalage, whence the attachment of clans to their chief. 
 
 $ Duelling. 
 
BRITAIN. 263 
 
 How frequent by the red inhuman hand, 
 Yet warm with brother's, husband's, father's blood, 
 Hast thou thy matrons and thy virgins seen 
 To violation dragg'd, and mingled death ? 
 What conflagrations, earthquakes, ravage, floods, 
 Have turn'd thy cities into stony wilds; 
 And succourless, and bare, the poor remains 
 Of wretches forth to Nature's common cast ? 
 Added to these the still continued waste 
 Of inbred foes that on thy vitals prey,* 
 And, double tyrants, seize the very soul. 
 Where hadst thou treasures for this rapine all ? 
 These hungry myriads, that thy bowels tore, 
 Heap'd sack on sack, and buried in their rage 
 Wonders of art; whence this grey scene, a mine 
 Of more than gold becomes and orient gems, 
 Where Egypt, Greece, and Rome united glow. 
 
 "Here Sculpture, Painting, Architecture, bent 
 Prom ancient models to restore their arts, 
 Remain'd. A little trace we how they rose. 
 
 "Amid the hoary ruins, Sculpture first, 
 Deep digging, from the cavern dark and damp, 
 Their grave for ages, bid her marble race 
 Spring to new light. Joy sparkled in her eyes, 
 And old remembrance thrill'd in every thought, 
 As she the pleasing resurrection saw. 
 In leaning site, respiring from his toils, 
 The well-known Hero,t who deliver'd Greece, 
 His ample chest, all tempested with force, 
 Unconquerable rear'd. She saw the head, 
 Breathing the hero, small, of Grecian size, 
 Scarce more extensive than the sinewy neck: 
 The spreading shoulders, muscular, and broad; 
 The whole a mass of swelling sinews, touch'd 
 Into harmonious shape; she saw, and joy'd. 
 The yellow hunter, Meleager, raised 
 
 * The Hierarchy. f The Hercules of Farnese. 
 
284 LIBERTY. 
 
 His beauteous front, and through the finish' d whole 
 
 Shows what ideas smiled of old in Greece. 
 
 Of raging aspect, rush'd impetuous forth 
 
 The Gladiator:* pitiless his look, 
 
 And each keen sinew braced, the storm of war, 
 
 Ruffling, o'er all his nervous body frowns. 
 
 The dying othert from the gloom she drew: 
 
 Supported on his shorten'd arm he leans, 
 
 Prone, agonising; with incumbent fate, 
 
 Heavy declines his head; yet dark beneath 
 
 The suffering feature sullen vengeance lours, 
 
 Shame, indignation, unaccomplished rage, 
 
 And still the cheated eye expects his fall. 
 
 All conquest-flush' d, from prostrate Python, came 
 
 The quivered god.J In graceful act he stands, 
 
 His arm extended with the slacken'd bow: 
 
 Light flows his easy robe, and fair displays 
 
 A manly soften'd form. The bloom of gods 
 
 Seems youthful o'er the beardless cheek to wave: 
 
 His features yet heroic ardour warms; 
 
 And sweet subsiding to a native smile, 
 
 Mix'd with the joy elating conquest gives, 
 
 A scatter^ frown exalts his matchless air. 
 
 On Flora moved; her full proportioned limbs 
 
 Rise through the mantle fluttering in the breeze. 
 
 The Queen of Love arose, as from the deep 
 
 She sprung in all the melting pomp of charms. 
 
 Bashful she bends, her well taught look aside 
 
 Turns in enchanting guise, where dubious mix 
 
 Vain conscious beauty, a dissembled sense 
 
 Of modest shame, and slippery looks of love. 
 
 The gazer grows enamour'd, and the stone, 
 
 As if exulting in its conquest, smiles. 
 
 So tunvd each limb, so swell'd with softening art, 
 
 That the deluded eye the marble doubts. 
 
 * Fighting Gladiator. t Dying Gladiator. 
 
 J Apollo of Belviderc. Venus of AlcJici. 
 

 BRITAIN. 2G5 
 
 At last her utmost masterpiece* she found, 
 That Maro fired ;t the miserable sire, 
 Wrapt with his sons in fate's severest grasp: 
 The serpents, twisting round, their stringent folds 
 Inextricable tie. Such passion here, 
 Such agonies, such bitterness of pain, 
 Seem so to tremble through the tortured stone, 
 That the touch'd heart engrosses all the view. 
 Almost unmark'd the best proportions pass, 
 That ever Greece beheld; and, seen alone, 
 On the rapt eye the imperious passions seize: 
 The father's double pangs, both for himself 
 And sons convulsed; to heaven his rueful look, 
 Imploring aid, and half accusing, cast; 
 His fell despair with indignation mix'd, 
 As the strong curling monsters from his side 
 His full extended fury cannot tear. 
 More tender touch'd, with varied art, his sons 
 All the soft rage of younger passions show. 
 In a boy's helpless fate one sinks oppress'd; 
 While, yet unpierced, the frighted other tries 
 His foot to steal out of the horrid twine. 
 
 " She,. bore no more, but straight from Gothic rust 
 Her_cM.el clear' d, and dustj and fragments drove 
 Imnejtuous round. Successive as it went 
 From son to son. with more enlivening touch, 
 From the brute rock it call'd the breathing form; 
 Till, in a legislator's awful grace 
 Dress' d, Buonaroti bid a Moses rise, 
 And, looking love immense, a Saviour God. 
 
 * The group of Laocoon and his two sons, destroyed by two 
 serpents. 
 
 t See ^Ineid II. ver. 199-227. 
 
 J It is reported of Michael Angelo Buonaroti, the most cele- 
 brated master of modern sculpture, that he wrought with a 
 kind of inspiration, or enthusiastical fury, which produced the 
 effect here mentioned. 
 
 Esteemed the two finest pieces of modern sculpture. 
 
266 LIBERTY. 
 
 " Of these observant, gaiating felt the fire 
 Burn inward. Then ecstatic she diffused 
 The canvas, seized the pallet, with quick hand 
 The colours brew*d; and on the void expanse 
 Her gay creation pour'd, her mimic world. 
 Poor was the manner of her eldest race, 
 Barren, and dry; just struggling from the taste, 
 That had for ages scared in cloisters dim 
 The superstitious herd: yet glorious then 
 Were deem'd their works; where undeveloped lay 
 The future wonders that enrich'd mankind, 
 And a new light and grace o'er Europe cast. 
 Arts gradual gather streams. Enlarging this, 
 To each his portion of her various gifts 
 The Goddess dealt, to none indulging all; 
 No, not to Raphael. At kind distance still 
 Perfection stands, like Happiness, to tempt 
 The eternal chase. In elegant design, 
 Improving nature: in ideas fair, 
 Or great, extracted from the fine antique; 
 In attitude, expression, airs divine; 
 Her sons of Rome and Florence bore the prize. 
 To those of Venice she the magic art 
 Of colours melting into colours gave. 
 Theirs too it was by one embracing mass 
 Of light and shade, that settles round the whole, 
 Or varies tremulous from part to part, 
 O'er all a binding harmony to throw, 
 To raise the picture, and repose the sight. 
 The Lombard school,* succeeding, mingled both. 
 
 " Meantime dread fanes, and palaces, around, 
 Rear'd the magnific front. Music again 
 Her universal language of tHeHeart 
 Renew*d; and, rising from the plaintive vale, 
 To the full concert spread, and solemn quire. 
 
 "E'en bigots-smiled^, to their protection took 
 
 * The school of the Caracci. 
 
BRITAIN. 267 
 
 Arts not their own, and from them borrow'd pomp: 
 
 For in a tyrant's garden these awhile 
 
 May bloom, though Freedom be their parent soil. 
 
 "And now confess' d, with gently growing gleam 
 The morning shone, and westward stream'd its light. 
 TheJIuse_awo^e. Not sooner on the wing 
 Is the gay bird of dawn. Artless her voice, 
 Untaught and wild, yet warbling through the woods 
 Romantic lays. But as her northern course 
 She, with her tutor Science in my train, 
 Ardent pursued, her strains more noble grew: 
 While Reason drew the plan, the Heart inform'd 
 The moral Jpage, and Fancy lent it grace. 
 
 " Rome and her circling deserts cast behind, 
 I pass'd not idle to my great sojourn. 
 
 "On Arno's*- fertile plain, where the rich vine 
 Luxuriant o'er Etrurian mountains roves, 
 Safe in the lap reposed of private bliss, 
 I small republicst raised. Thrice happy they ! 
 HacTsocIal Freedom bound their peace, and arts, 
 Instead of ruling Power, ne'er meant for them, 
 Employ'd their little cares, and saved their fate. 
 
 " Beyond the rugged Apennines, that roll 
 Far through Italian bounds their wavy tops, 
 My path, too, I with public blessings strew'd: 
 Free states and cities, where the Lombard plain, 
 In spite of culture negligent and gross, 
 From her deep bosom pours unbidden joys, 
 And green o'er all the land a garden spreads. 
 
 " The barren rocks themselves beneath my foot, 
 Relenting, bloom'd on the Ligurian shore. 
 Thick swarming people* there, like emmets, seized 
 
 * The river Arno runs through Florence. 
 
 f The republics of Florence, Pisa, Lucca, and Sienna. 
 
 * The Genoese territory is reckoned very populous; but the towns 
 and villages for the most part lie hid among the Apennine rocks 
 and mountains. 
 
 T 
 
268 LIBERTY. 
 
 Amid surrounding cliffs, the scatter'd spots, 
 Which Nature left in her destroying rage;* 
 Made their own fields, nor sigh'd for other lands. 
 There, in white prospect from the rocky hill 
 Gradual descending to the shelter'd shore, 
 By ine proud Genoa's marble turrets rose. 
 And while my genuine spirit warin'd her sons, 
 Beneath her Dorias, not unworthy, she 
 Vied for the trident of the narrow seas, 
 Ere Britain yet had open'd all the main. 
 
 "Nor be the then triumphant state forgot ;t 
 Where,! push'd from plunder'd earth, a remnant still 
 Inspired by me, through the dark ages kept 
 Of my old Roman flame some sparks alive: 
 The seeming god-built city ! which my hand 
 Deep in the bosom fix'd of wondering seas. 
 Astonish'd mortals sail'd, with pleasing awe, 
 Around the sea-girt walls, by Neptune fenced, 
 And down the briny street; where on each hand, 
 Amazing seen amid unstable waves, 
 The splendid palace shines; and rising tides, 
 The green steps marking, murmur at the door. 
 To this fair Queen of Adria's stormy gulf, 
 The mart of nations ! long, obedient seas 
 Roll'd all the treasure of the radiant East. 
 But now no more. Than one great tyrant worse 
 (Whose shared oppression lightens, as diffused), 
 Each subject tearing, many tyrants rose. 
 The least the proudest. Join'd in dark cabal, 
 They jealous, watchful, silent, and severe, 
 
 * According to Dr Burnet's system of the Deluge. 
 
 f Venice was the most flourishing city in Europe, with regard 
 to trade, before the passage to the East Indies by the Cape of 
 Good Hope and America was discovered. 
 
 Those who fled to some marshes in the Adriatic Gulf, from tli.- 
 desolation spread over Itiily by an irruption of the II ui, 
 founded there this famous city, about the beginning of the fifth 
 century. 
 
BRITAIN. 269 
 
 Cast o'er the whole indissoluble chains: 
 
 The softer shackles of luxurious ease 
 
 They likewise added, to secure their sway. 
 
 Thus Venice fainter shines; and Commerce thus, 
 
 Of toil impatient, flags the drooping sail. 
 
 Bursting, besides, his ancient bounds, he took 
 
 A larger circle:* found another seat,t 
 
 Opening a thousand ports, and charm'd with toil, 
 
 Whom nothing can dismay, far other sons. 
 
 "The mountains then, clad with eternal snow, 
 Confess'd my power. Deep as the rampant rocks, 
 By Nature thrown insuperable round, 
 I planted there a league of friendly states,! 
 And bade plain Freedom their ambition be. 
 There in the vale, where rural plenty fills, 
 From lakes, and meads, and furrow'd fields, her horn, 
 Chief, where the Leman pure emits the Rhone, 
 Rare to be seen ! unguilty cities rise, 
 Cities of brothers forrn'd: while equal life, 
 Accorded gracious with revolving power, 
 Maintains them free; and, in their happy streets, 
 Nor cruel deed, nor misery, is known. 
 For valour, faith, and innocence of life, 
 Renown'd, a rough laborious people, there, 
 Not only give the dreadful Alps to smile, 
 And press their culture on retiring snows; 
 But, to firm order train'd and patient war, 
 They likewise know, beyond the nerve remiss 
 Of mercenary force, how to defend 
 The tasteful little their hard toil has earn'd, 
 And the proud arm of Bourbon to defy. 
 
 " E'en, cheer'd by me, their shaggy mountains charm, 
 More than or Gallic or Italian plains; 
 And sickening Fancy oft, when absent long, 
 
 * The Main Ocean. f Great Britain. J Swiss Cantons. 
 
 Geneva, situated on Lacus Lemanus, a small state, but noble 
 example of the blessings of civil and religious liberty. 
 
270 LIBERTY. 
 
 Pines* to behold their Alpine views again: 
 
 The hollow-winding stream: the vale, fair spread 
 
 Amid an amphitheatre of hills; 
 
 Whence, vapour-whig' d, the sudden tempest springs. 
 
 From steep to steep ascending, the gay train 
 
 Of fogs, thick-rolTd into romantic shapes; 
 
 The flitting cloud, against the summit dash'd; 
 
 And, by the sun illumined, pouring bright 
 
 A gemmy shower; hung o'er amazing rocks, 
 
 The mountain ash, and solemn sounding pine: 
 
 The snow -fed torrent, hi white mazes tost, 
 
 Down to the clear ethereal lake below: 
 
 And high o'ertopping all the broken scene, 
 
 The mountain fading into sky; where shines 
 
 On winter, winter shivering, and whose top 
 
 Licks from then* cloudy magazine the snows. 
 
 "From these descending, as I waved my course 
 O'er vast Germania, the ferocious nurse 
 Of hardy men, and hearts affronting death, 
 I gave some favour 5 d citiest there to lift 
 A nobler brow, and through their swarming streets, 
 More busy, wealthy, cheerful, and alive, 
 In each contented face to look my soul. 
 
 "Thence the loud Baltic passing, black with storm, 
 To wintry Scandinavia's utmost bound; 
 There I the manly race,t the parent hive 
 Of the mix'd kingdoms, forrn'd into a state 
 More regularly free. By keener air 
 Their genius purged, and temper'd hard by frost, 
 Tempest, and toil their nerves, the sons of those 
 Whose only terror was a bloodless death, 
 They, wise and dauntless, still sustain my cause. 
 
 * The Swiss, after having been long absent from their native 
 country, are seized with such a violent desire of seeing it air. 
 affects them with a kind of languishing indisposition called the 
 Swiss sickness. 
 
 i The Hans Towns. J The Swedes. 
 
BRITAIN. 271 
 
 Yet there I fix'd not. Turning to the south, 
 The whispering zephyrs sigh'd at my delay." 
 
 HQI-C, with the shifted vision, burst my joy: 
 " the dear prospect ! majestic view ! 
 See Britain's empire ! lo ! the watery vast 
 Wide waves, diffusing the cerulean plain. 
 And now, methinks, like clouds at distance seen, 
 Emerging white from deeps of ether, dawn 
 My kindred cliffs; whence wafted in the gale, 
 Ineffable, a secret sweetness breathes. 
 Goddess, forgive ! My heart, surprised, overflows 
 With filial fondness for the land you bless." 
 As parents to a child complacent deign 
 Appro van ce, the celestial brightness smiled; 
 Then thus. " As o'er the wave resounding deep, 
 To my near reign, the happy isle, I steer'd 
 With easy whig; behold! from surge to surge, 
 Stalk'd the tremendous Genius of the Deep. 
 Around him clouds, in mingled tempest, hung; 
 Thick flashing meteors crown'd his starry head; 
 And ready thunder redden'd in his hand, 
 Or from it stream' d, compress'd, the gloomy cloud. 
 Where'er he look'd, the trembling waves recoil'd. 
 He needs but strike the conscious flood, and shook 
 From shore to shore, in agitation dire, 
 It works his dreadful will. To me his voice 
 (Like that hoarse blast that round the cavern howls, 
 Mix'd with the murmurs of the falling main), 
 Address' d, began ' By Fate commission'd, go, 
 My Sister-Goddess, now, to yon blessed isle, 
 Henceforth the partner of my rough domain. 
 All. my .dread walks to Britons open lie. 
 Those that refulgent, or with rosy morn, 
 Or yellow evening, flame; those that, profuse, 
 Drunk by equator suns, severely shine; 
 Or those that, to the poles approaching, rise 
 In billows rolling into Alps of ice. 
 E'en, yet untouch'd by daring keel, be theirs 
 
272 LIBERTY. 
 
 The vast Pacific: that on other worlds, 
 
 Their future conquest, rolls resounding tides. 
 
 Long I maintain'd inviolate my reign; 
 
 Nor Alexanders me, nor Caesars braved. 
 
 Still, in the crook of shore, the coward sail 
 
 Till now low crept; and peddling commerce ply'd 
 
 Between near joining lands. For Britons, chief, 
 
 It was reserved, with star-directed prow, 
 
 To dare the middle deep, and drive assured 
 
 To distant nations through the pathless main. 
 
 Chief, for their fearless hearts the glory waits, 
 
 Long months from land, while the black stormy night 
 
 Around them rages, on the groaning mast 
 
 With unshook knee to know their giddy way; 
 
 To sing, unquelTd, amid the lashing wave; 
 
 To laugh at danger. Theirs the triumph be, 
 
 By deep Invention's keen pervading eye, 
 
 The heart of Courage, and the hand of Toil, 
 
 Each conquer'd ocean staining with their blood, 
 
 Instead of treasure robb'd by ruffian war, 
 
 Round social earth to circle fair exchange^ 
 
 And bind the nations in .a golden chain. 
 
 To these I honour' d stoop. Rushing to light 
 
 A race of men behold ! whose daring deeds 
 
 Will in renown exalt my nameless plains 
 
 O'er those of fabling earth, as hers to mine 
 
 In terror yield. Nay, could my savage heart 
 
 Such glories check, their unsubmitting soul 
 
 Would all my fury brave, my tempest climb, 
 
 And might in spite of me my kingdom force.' 
 
 Here, waiting no reply, the shadowy power 
 
 Eased the dark sky, and to the deeps return'd: 
 
 While the loud thunder rattling from his hand, 
 
 Auspicious, shook opponent Gallia's shore. 
 
 " Of this encounter glad, my way to land 
 I quick pursued, that from the smiling sea 
 Received me joyous. Loud acclaims were heard; 
 And music, more than mortal, warbling, lill'd 
 
BRITAIN. 273 
 
 With pleased astonishment the labouring hind, 
 Who for awhile the unfinish'd furrow left, 
 And let the listening steer forget his toil. 
 Unseen by grosser eye, Britannia breathed, 
 And her aerial train, these sounds of joy. _ 
 For of old time, since first the rushing flood, ( 
 Urged by almighty power, this favour'd isle | 
 Turn'd flashing from the continent aside, / 
 Indented shore to shore responsive still, 
 Its guardian she the Goddess, whose staid eye 
 Beams the dark azure of the doubtful dawn. 
 Her tresses, like a flood of soften'd light 
 Through clouds embrown'd, in waving circles play. 
 Warm on her cheek sits Beauty's brightest rose, 
 Of high demeanour, stately, shedding grace 
 With every motion. Full her rising chest; 
 And new ideas, from her finished shape, 
 Charm'd Sculpture taking might improve her art. 
 Such the fair Guardian of an isle that boasts, 
 Profuse as vernal blooms, the fairest dames. 
 High shining on the promontory's brow, 
 Awaiting me, she stood; with hope inflamed, 
 By my mix'd spirit burning in her sons, 
 To firm, to polish, and exalt the state. 
 
 " The native Genii, round her, radiant smiled. 
 Courage, of soft deportment, aspect calm, 
 UnboasSul, suffering long, and, till provoked, 
 As mild and harmless as the sporting child; 
 But, on just reason, once his fury roused, 
 No lion springs more eager to his prey: 
 Blood is a pastime; and his heart, elate, 
 Knows no depressing fear. That Virtue known 
 By4he relenting look, whose equal heart 
 For-others feels, as for another self: 
 Of various name, as various objects wake, 
 Warm into action, the kind sense within: 
 Whether the blameless poor, the nobly maiin'd, 
 The lost to reason, the declined in life, 
 
274 LIBERTY. 
 
 The helpless young that kiss no mother's hand, 
 And the grey second infancy of age, 
 She gives in public families to live, 
 A sight to gladden Heaven ! whither she stands 
 Fair beckoning at the hospitable .gate, 
 And bids the stranger take repose and joy: 
 Whether, to solace honest labour, she 
 Rejoices those that make the land rejoice: 
 Or whether to Philosophy and Arts 
 (At once the basis and the finished pride 
 Of government and life), she spreads her hand; 
 Nor knows her gift profuse, nor seems to know, 
 Doubling her bounty, that she gives at all 
 Justice to these her awful presence join'd, 
 The mother of the state ! no low revenge, 
 No turbid passions in her breast ferment: 
 Tender., serene, compassionate of vice, 
 As the last wo that can afflict mankind, 
 She punishment awards; yet of the good 
 More piteous still, and of the suffering whole, 
 Awards it firm. So fair her just decree, 
 That, in his judging peers, each on himself 
 Pronounces his own doom. happy land ! 
 'Where reigns alone this justice of the fjee ! 
 'Mid the bright group Sincgrjty^ his front, 
 Diffusive, rear'd; his pure untroubled eye 
 The fount of truth. The thpjigktfulJPfiKejr, apart, 
 Now, pensive, cast on earthhis fixM regard. 
 Now, touch'd celestial, launch' d it on the sky. 
 The Genius he whence Britain shines supreme, 
 The land of light, and rectitude of mind. 
 
 ', the tire of fancy feeds intense, 
 With all the train of passions thence derived: 
 Not kindling quick, a noisy transient bl;r/.e, 
 But gradual, silent, last in <;, and profound. 
 Nrar him Retirement, pointing to the shade, 
 And Independence stood: the generous }>ai'-, 
 That simple life, the quiet-whispering grove. 
 
BRITAIN. 275 
 
 And the still raptures of the free-born soul, 
 To cates prefer by Virtue bought, not earn'd, 
 Proudly prefer them to the servile pomp, 
 And to the heart-embitter'd joys of slaves. 
 Or should the latter, to the public scene 
 Demanded, quit his sylvan friend awhile; 
 Italgkiujaa. bis firmness shake, nothing seduce 
 His zeal, still active for the commonweal; 
 Nor stormy tyrants, nor corruption's tools, 
 Foul ministers, dark-working by the force 
 Of secret-sapping gold. All their vile arts, 
 Their shameful honours, their perfidious gifts, 
 He greatly scorns; and, if he must betray 
 His plunder'd country, or his power resign, 
 A moment's parley were eternal shame: 
 Illustrious into private life again, 
 From dirty levees he unstain'd ascends, 
 And firm in senates stands the patriot's ground, 
 Or draws new vigour in the peaceful shade. 
 Aloof the bashful virtue hover'd coy, 
 Proving by sweet distrust distrusted worth. 
 Rough Labour closed the train: and in his hand, 
 Rude, callous, sinew-swell'd, and black with toil, 
 Came manly Indignation. Sour he seems, 
 And more than seems, By lawless pride assail'd; 
 Yet kind at heart, and just, and generous, there 
 No vengeance lurks, no pale insidious gall: 
 Even in the very luxury of rage, 
 He softening can forgive a gallant foe; 
 The nerve, support,, and glory of the land! 
 Nor be Religion, rational and free, 
 Here pass'd in silence; whose enraptured eye 
 See^JIea^ai^itK^earth connected, human things 
 Link'd tp divine: who not"^b1m^eTyiIel^r7 ~ 
 By.iightsJbr some weak tyrant incense fit, 
 ThejGrod of Love adores, but from a heart 
 Effusing gladness, mTo pleasing awe 
 That now astonish' d swells, now in a calm 
 
276 LIBERTY. 
 
 Of fearless confidence that smiles serene; 
 
 That lives devotion, one continual hymn, 
 
 And then most grateful, when Heaven's bounty most 
 
 Is right enjoy'd. This ever cheerful Power 
 
 O'er the raised circle ray'd superior day. 
 
 "I joy'd to join the Virtues, whence my reign 
 O'er Albion was to rise. Each cheering each, 
 And, like the circling planets from the sun, 
 All borrowing beams from me, a heightened zeal 
 Impatient fired us to commence our toils, 
 Or pleasures rather. Long the pungent time 
 Pass'd not in mutual hails; but, through the land 
 Darting our light, we shone the fogs away. 
 
 "The Virtues conquer with a single look. 
 Such grace, such beauty, such victorious light, 
 Live in their presence, stream in every glance 
 That the soul won, enamour'd, and refined, 
 Grows then* own image, pure ethereal flame. 
 Hence the foul Demons, that oppose our reign, 
 Would still from us deluded mortals wrap: 
 Or in gross shades they drown the visual ray, 
 Or by the fogs of prejudice, where mix, 
 Falsehood and truth confounded, foil the sense 
 With vain refracted images of bliss. 
 But chief around the court of flattered kings 
 They roll the dusky rampart, wall o'er wall 
 Of darkest pile, and with then* thickest shade 
 Secure the throne. No savage Alp, the den 
 Of wolves, and bears, and monstrous things obscene, 
 That vex the swain, and waste the country round, 
 Protected lies beneath a deeper cloud. 
 Yet there we sometimes send a searching ray, 
 As, at the sacred opening of the morn, 
 The prowling race retire; so, pierced severe, 
 Before our potent blaze these Demons fly, 
 
 And all their works dissolve the whisper*d tale, 
 
 That, like the fabling Nile, no fountain knows. 
 Fair-faced Deceit, whose wily conscious eye 
 
BRITAIN. 277 
 
 Ne'er looks direct. The tongue that licks the dust, 
 But, when it safely dares, as prompt to sting: 
 Smoojh crocodile Destruction, whose fell tears 
 Ensnare. The Janus-face of courtly Pride; 
 One to superiors heaves submissive eyes, 
 On hapless worth the other scowls disdain,: 
 Cheeks that for some weak tenderness, alone, 
 Some virtuous slip, can wear a blush. The laugh 
 Profane, when midnight bowls disclose the heart, 
 At starving Virtue, and at Virtue's fools. 
 Determined to be broke, the plighted faith; 
 Nay more, the godless oath, that knows no ties. 
 Soft-buzzing Slander; silky moths, that eat 
 An honest name. The harpy hand, an<f maw, 
 Of avaricious Luxury; who makes 
 The throne his shelter, venal laws his fort, 
 And, his service, who betrays his king. 
 
 <T Sow turn your view, and mark from Celtic* night 
 To present grandeur how my Britain rose. 
 
 "Bold were those Britons, who, the careless sons 
 Of Nature, roam'd the forest-bounds, at once 
 Their verdant city, high-embowering fane, 
 And the gay circle of their woodland wars: 
 For by the Druidt taught, that death but shifts 
 The vital scene, they that prime fear despised; 
 And, prone to rush on steel, disdain'd to spare 
 An ill-saved life that must again return. 
 Erect from Nature's hand, by tyrant force, 
 And still more tyrant custom, unsubdued, 
 Man knows no master save creating Heaven, 
 Or such as choice and common good, ordain. 
 This general sense with which the nations I 
 Promiscuous fire, in Britons burn'd intense, 
 Of future times prophetic. Witness, Rome, 
 
 * Great Britain was peopled by the Celtae or Gauls, 
 f The Druids, among the ancient Gauls and Britons, had the 
 care and direction of all religious matters. 
 
278 LIBERTY. 
 
 Who saw*st thy Caesar, from the naked land, 
 
 Whose only fort was British hearts, repell'd, 
 
 To seek Pharsalian wreaths. Witness, the toil, 
 
 The blood of ages, bootless to secure, 
 
 Beneath an empire's* yoke, a stubborn isle, 
 
 Disputed hard, and never quite subdued. 
 
 The Northt remain'd untouch'd, where those who scorn'd 
 
 To stoop retired; and, to their keen effort 
 
 Yielding at last, recoiTd the Roman power. 
 
 In vain, unable to sustain the shock, 
 
 From sea to sea desponding legions raised 
 
 The wall immense,! and yet, on summer's eve, 
 
 While sport his lambkins round, the shepherd's gaze. 
 
 Continual o'er it burst the northern storm, 
 
 As often check'd, receded; threatening hoarse 
 
 A swift return. But the devouring flood 
 
 No more endured control, when, to support 
 
 The last remains of empire,! | was recall'd 
 
 The weary Roman, and the Briton lay 
 
 Unnerved, exhausted, spiritless, and sunk. 
 
 Great proof ! how men enfeeble into slaves. 
 
 The swordlT behind him flash'd; before him roar'd, 
 
 Deaf to his woes, the deep. Forlorn, around 
 
 * The Roman Empire. 
 
 p" Caledonia, inhabited by tlie Scots and Picts; whither a great 
 many Britons who would not submit to the Romans retired. 
 
 J The Wall of Severus, built upon Adrian's rampart, which 
 ran for eighty miles quite across the country, from the mouth of 
 the Tyneto Sol way Frith. 
 
 Irruptions of the Scots and Picts. 
 
 || The Roman Empire being miserably torn by the northern 
 nations, Britain was for ever abandoned by the Romans in the 
 year 426 or 427. 
 
 U The Britons, applying to Mtius the Roman general for as- 
 sistance, thus expressed their miserable condition:" We 
 not which way to turn us. The Barbarians drive us to sea, and 
 the sea forces us back to the Barbarians; between wliioli v 
 only the choice of two deaths either to be swallowed up by the 
 waves, or butchervd by the sword. 
 
BRITAIN. 279 
 
 He roll'd his eye, not sparkling ardent flame, 
 As when Caractacus* to battle led 
 Silurian swains, and Boadiceat taught 
 Her raging troops the miseries of slaves. 
 
 "Then (sad relief !) from the bleak coast, that hears 
 The German Ocean roar, deep-blooming, strong, 
 And yellow-hair'd, the blue-eyed Saxon came. 
 He came implored, but came with other aim 
 Than to protect: for conquest and defence 
 Suffices the same arm. With the fierce race 
 Pour'd in a fresh invigorating stream, 
 Blood, where unquell'd a mighty spirit glow'd. 
 Rash war, and perilous battle, then* delight; 
 And immature, and red with glorious wounds, 
 Unpeaceful death their choice: deriving thence 
 to feast, and drain immortal bowls, 
 
 _ whose blazing roof resounds 
 
 The genial uproar of those shades, who fall 
 
 * King of the Silures, famous for his great exploits, and ac- 
 counted the best general Great Britain had ever produced. The 
 Silures were esteemed the bravest and most powerful of all the 
 Britons: they inhabited Herefordshire, Radnorshire, Brecknock- 
 shire, Monmouthshire, and Glamorganshire. 
 
 t Queen of the Iceni. 
 
 J It is certain that an opinion was fixed and general among 
 them (the Goths), that death was but the entrance into another 
 life: that all men who lived lazy and inactive lives, and died na- 
 tural deaths, by sickness or by age, went into vast caves under 
 ground, all dark and miry, full of noisome creatures usual to 
 such places, and there for ever grovelled in endless stench and 
 misery. On the contrary, all who gave themselves to warlike 
 actions and enterprises, to the conquest of their neighbours and 
 the slaughter of their enemies, and died in battle, or of violent 
 deaths upon bold adventures or resolutions, Avent immediately to 
 the vast hall or palace of Odin, their god of war, who eternally 
 kept open house for all such guests, where they were entertained 
 at infinite tables, in perpetual feasts and mirth, carousing in 
 bowls made of the skulls of their enemies they had slain; ac- 
 cording to the number of whom, every one in these mansions of 
 pleasure was the most honoured and best entertained. Sir 
 William Temple's Essay on Heroic Virtue. 
 
280 LIBERTY. 
 
 In desperate fight, or by some brave attempt; 
 
 And though more polish* d times the martial creed 
 
 Disown, yet still the fearless habit lives. 
 
 Nor were the surly gifts of war their all. 
 
 Wisdom was likewise theirs, indulgent laws, 
 
 The calm gradations of art-nursing peace, 
 
 And matchless orders, the deep basis still 
 
 On which ascends my British reign. Untamed 
 
 To the refining subtleties of slaves, 
 
 They brought a happy government along; 
 
 Form'd by that freedom which, with secret voice, 
 
 Impartial Nature teaches all her sons, 
 
 And which of old through the whole Scythian mass 
 
 I strong inspired. Monarchical their state, 
 
 But prudently confined, and mingled wise 
 
 Of each harmonious power: only, too much, 
 
 Imperious war into their rule infused, 
 
 Prevail'd then* General-King, and Chieftain-Thanes. 
 
 " In many a field, by civil fury stain'd, 
 Bled the discordant Heptarchy;* and long 
 (Educing good from ill) the battle groan'd; 
 Ere, blood-cemented, Anglo-Saxon saw 
 Egbert t and peace on one united throne. 
 " "No sooner dawn'd the fair disclosing calm 
 Of brighter days, when lo ! the North anew, 
 With stormy nations black, on England pour'd 
 Woes the severest e'er a people felt. 
 The DanjskJiayen,:j: lured by annual prey, 
 
 * The seven kingdoms of the Anglo-Saxons, considered as being 
 united into one common government, under a general-in -chief or 
 monarch, and by the means of an assembly general, or witte- 
 nagemot. 
 
 f Egbert, king of Wessex, who, after having reduced all tho 
 other kingdoms of the Heptarchy under his dominion, was the 
 first King of England. 
 
 A famous Danish standard was called Reafen, or Raven. 
 The Danes imagined that, before a battle, the Raven wrought 
 upon this standard clapped its wings or hung down its head, iu 
 token of victory or defeat. 
 
BRITAIN. 28] 
 
 Hung o'er the land incessant. Fleet on fleet 
 
 Of barbarous pirates unremitting tore 
 
 The miserable coast. Before them stalk'd, 
 
 Far seen, the Demon of devouring Flame; 
 
 Rapine, and Murder, all with blood besmear' d, 
 
 Without or ear, or eye, or feeling heart; 
 
 While close behind them march'd the sallow Power 
 
 Of desolating Famine, who delights 
 
 In grass-grown cities, and in desert fields; 
 
 And purple-spotted Pestilence, by whom 
 
 E'en Friendship scared, in sickening horror sinks 
 
 Each social sense and tenderness of life. 
 
 Fixing at last, the sanguinary race 
 
 Spread, from the Humberts loud-resounding shore, 
 
 To where the Thames devolves his gentle maze, 
 
 And with superior arm the Saxon awed. 
 
 But Superstition first, and monkish dreams, 
 
 And monk-directed cloister-seeking kings, 
 
 Had eat away his vigour^ eat away 
 
 His edge of Courage, and depressed the soul 
 
 Of conquering Freedom, which he once respired. 
 
 Thus cruel ages pass'd; and rare appear'd 
 
 White-mantled Peace, exulting o'er the vale, 
 
 As when, with 43fe$U* fr m tne wi ^s sne came 
 
 To policed cities and protected plains. 
 
 Thii_bj degrees the Saxon. empire sunk, 
 
 Then set entire in Hastings't bloody field. 
 
 " Compendious war! (on Britain's glory bent, 
 So fate ordain' d) in that decisive day, 
 The haughty Norman seized at once an isle, 
 For which, through many a century, in vain, 
 
 * Alfred the Great, renowned in war, and no less famous in 
 peace for his many excellent institutions, particularly that of 
 juries. 
 
 f The battle of Hastings, in which Harold II., the last of the 
 Saxon kings, was slain, and William the Conqueror made him- 
 self master of England. 
 
282 LIBERTY. 
 
 The Roman, Saxon, Dane, had toil'd and bled 
 Of Gothic nations this the final burst; 
 And, mix'd the genius of these people all, 
 Their virtues mix'd in one exalted stream, 
 Here the rich tide of English blood grew full 
 
 " Awhile my Spirit slept; the land awhile, 
 Affrighted, droop'd beneath despotic rage. 
 Instead of Edward's* equal gentle laws, 
 The furious victor's partial will prevail'd. 
 All prostrate lay; and, in the secret shade, 
 Deep stung but fearful Indignation gnash'd 
 His teeth. Of freedom, property despoil'd, 
 And of their bulwark, arms; with castles crush'd, 
 With ruffians quartered o'er the bridled land; 
 The shivering wretches, at the curfewt sound, 
 Dejected shrunk into their sordid beds, 
 And, through the mournful gloom of ancient tunes, 
 Mused sad, or dreamt of better. E'en to feed 
 A tyrant's idle sport, the peasant starved: 
 To the wild herd, the pasture of the tame, 
 The cheerful hamlet, spiry town, was given, 
 And the brown forestj roughen'd wide around. 
 
 " But this so dead, so vile submission, long 
 Endured not. Gathering force, my gradual flame 
 Shook off the mountain of tyrannic sway. 
 Unused to bend, impatient of control, 
 Tyrants themselves the common tyrant check'd. 
 The Church, by kings intractable and fierce, 
 
 * Edward III., the Confessor, who reduced the West Saxon, 
 Mercian, and Danish laws into one body; which from that time 
 became common to all England, under the name of " The Laws 
 of Edward." 
 
 f The Curfew-bell (from the French Couvrefcu), which was run- 
 every night at eight of the clock, to warn the English to put r.ut 
 their fires and candles, under the penalty of a severe fine. 
 
 t The New Forest in Hampshire; to make which, the country 
 for above thirty miles in compass was laid waste. 
 
BRITAIN. 283 
 
 Denied her portion of the plunder'd state, 
 
 Or tempted, by the timorous and. weak, 
 
 To gain new ground, first taught their rapine law. 
 
 The Barons next a nobler league began, 
 
 Botli ffiose of English and of Norman race, 
 
 In one fraternal nation blended now, 
 
 The nation of the Free ! press'd by a band* 
 
 Of Patriots, ardent as the summer's noon 
 
 That looks delighted on, the tyrant see ! 
 
 Mark ! how with feign' d alacrity he bears 
 
 His strong reluctance down, his dark revenge, 
 
 And gives the Charter, by which life indeed 
 
 Becomes of price, a glory to be man. 
 
 " Through this, and through succeeding reigns affirra'd 
 These long-contested rights, the wholesome winds 
 Of Oj)j3ositiont hence began to blow, 
 And often since have lent the country life. 
 Before their breath Corruption's insect-bliglits, 
 The darkening clouds of evil counsel fly; 
 Or should they sounding swell, a putrid court, 
 A pestilential ministry, they purge, 
 And ventilated states renew their bloom. 
 
 " Though with the temper'd Monarchy here mix'd 
 Aristocratic sway, the People still, 
 Flatter'd by this or that, as interest lean'd, 
 No full protection knew. For me reserved, 
 And for my Commons, was that glorious turn. 
 They crowu'd my first attempt, hi senates^ rose 
 The fort of Freedom ! Slow tiU then, alone, 
 Had work'd that general liberty, that soul 
 
 * On the 5th of June, 1215, King John, met by the Barons 
 on Runnemede, signed the Great Charter of Liberties, or Magna 
 Charta. 
 
 t The league formed by the Barons, during the reign of John, 
 in the year 1213, was the first confederacy made in England in 
 defence of the nation's interests against the king. 
 
 J The commons are generally thought to have been first re- 
 presented in Parliament towards the end of Henry the Third's 
 U 
 
284 LIBERTY. 
 
 Which generous nature breathes, and which, when left 
 By me to bondage, was corrupted Rome, 
 I through the northern nations wide diffused. 
 Hence many a people, fierce with freedom, rush'd 
 From the rude iron regions of the North, 
 To Libyan deserts swarm protruding swarm, 
 And pour'd new spirit through a slavish world. 
 Yet, o'er these Gothic states, the King and Chiefs 
 Retain'd the high prerogative of war, 
 And with enormous property engross' d 
 The mingled power. But on Britannia's shore 
 Now present, I to raise my reign began 
 By raising the Democracy, the third 
 And broadest bulwark of the guarded state. 
 Then was the full, the perfect plan disclosed 
 Of Britain's matchless constitution, mix'd 
 . Of mutual checking and supporting powers, 
 King, Lords, and Commons ; nor the name of free 
 Deserving, while the vassal-many droop'd: 
 For since the moment of the whole they form, 
 So, as depress'd or raised, the balance they 
 Of public welfare and of glory cast. 
 Mark from this period the continual proof. 
 ~ " When Kings of narrow genius, minion-rid, 
 Neglecting faithful worth for fawning slaves; 
 Proudly regardless of their people's plaints, 
 And poorly passive of insulting foes; 
 Double, not prudent, obstinate, not firm, 
 Their mercy fear, necessity their faith; 
 Instead of generous fire, presumptuous, hot, 
 
 reign. To a parliament called in the year 12(54, each county \s 
 ordered to send four knights, as representatives of their respc 
 tive shires: and to a parliament called in the year following, eai 
 county was ordered to send, as their representatives, two knight 
 and each city and borough as many citizens and burgesses. T 
 then, history makes no mention of them; whence a very strong 
 argument may be drawn, to fix the original of the House oi 
 Commons to that era. 
 
BRITAIN. 285 
 
 Rash to resolve, and slothful to perform: 
 Tyrants at once and slaves, imperious, mean, 
 To want rapacious joining shameful waste; 
 By counsels weak and wicked, easy roused 
 To paltry schemes of absolute command, 
 To seek their splendour in their sure disgrace, 
 And in a broken ruin'd people wealth: 
 When such o'ercast the state, no bond of love, 
 No heart, no soul, no unity, no nerve, 
 Combined the loose disjointed public, lost 
 To fame abroad, to happiness at home. 
 
 "But when an Edward,* and a Ilenryt breathed 
 Through the charm'd whole one all-exerting soul: 
 Drawn sympathetic from his dark retreat, 
 When wide-attracted merit round them glow'd: 
 Then counsels just, extensive, generous, firm, 
 Amid the maze of state, determined kept 
 Some ruling point in view: when on the stock 
 Of public good and glory grafted, spread 
 Their palms, their laurels; or if thence they stray'd, 
 Swift to return, and patient of restraint: 
 When regal state, pre-eminence of place, 
 They scorn'd to deem pre-eminence of ease, 
 To be luxurious drpnes, that only rob 
 The busy hive: as in distinction, power, 
 rnSulgence, honour, and advantage, first; 
 When they too claim'd in virtue, danger, toil, 
 Superior rank; with equal hand, prepared 
 To guard the subject, and to quell the foe: 
 When such with me their vital influence shed, 
 No mutter'd grievance, hopeless sigh, was heard; 
 No foul distrust through wary senates ran, 
 Confined their bounty, and their ardour quench'd: 
 On aid, unquestioned liberal aid was given: 
 Safe in their conduct, by their valour fired, 
 Fond where they led victorious armies rush'd; 
 
 * Edward III. f Henry V. 
 
286 LIBERTY. 
 
 And Cressy, Poitiers, Agincourt* proclaim 
 What kings supported by almighty Love, 
 And people fired with Liberty, can do. 
 
 "Be veil'd the savage reigns,t when kindred rage 
 The numerous once Plantagenets devoured, 
 A race to vengeance vow'd ! and when, oppressed 
 By private feuds, almost extinguished lay 
 My quivering flame. But, in the next, behold ! 
 A cautious tyrant! lend it oil anew. 
 
 "Proud, dark, suspicious, brooding o'er his gold, 
 As how to fix his throne he jealous cast 
 His crafty views around; pierced with a ray, 
 Which on his timid mind I darted full, 
 He mark'd the Barons of excessive sway, 
 At pleasure making and unmaking kings ; 
 ; And hence, to crush these petty tyrants, plann'd 
 A law,|| that let them, by the silent waste 
 Of luxury, their landed wealth diffuse, 
 And with that wealth their implicated power. 
 By soft degrees a mighty change ensued, 
 E'en working to this day. With streams, de luced 
 From these diminished floods, the country smiled. 
 As when impetuous from the snow-heap'd Alps, 
 To vernal suns relenting, pours the Rhine; 
 While, undivided, oft, with wasteful sweep, 
 He foams along; but through Batavian meads, 
 Branch'd into fair canals, indulgent flows; 
 Waters a thousand fields; and culture, trade, 
 Towns, meadows, gliding ships, and villas mix'd, 
 A rich, a wondrous landscape rises round. 
 
 * The famous battles, gained by the English over the French. 
 
 f During the civil wars betwixt the families of York and 
 Lancaster. 
 
 $ Henry VII. 
 
 The famous Earl of Warwick, during the reigns of Henry VI. 
 and Edward IV., was called the " King Maker." 
 
 [ Permitting the Barons to alienate their lands. 
 
BRITAIN. 287 
 
 His furious son* the soul-enslaving chain,t 
 
 Which many a doating venerable age 
 
 Had link by link strong twisted round the land, 
 
 Sh"ooK off. No longer could be borne a power, 
 
 l?hSfHeaven pretended, to deceive, to void 
 
 Each solemn tie, to plunder without bounds, 
 
 To curb the generous soul, to fool mankind; 
 
 And, wild at last, to plunge into a sea 
 
 Of blood and horror. The returning light, 
 
 That first through WickliffJ streak'd the priestly gloom, 
 
 Now burst in open day. Bared to the blaze, 
 
 Forth from the haunts of Superstition crawl'd 
 
 Her motley sons, fantastic figures all; 
 
 And. wide dispersed, their useless fetid wealth 
 
 In graceful labour bloom' d ; and fruits of peace. 
 
 "Trade, join'd to these, on every sea display'd 
 A daringfcanvas, pour'd with every tide 
 A golden flood. From other worlds|| were roU'dTj 
 The guilty glittering stores, whose fatal charms, } 
 By the plain Indian happily despised, 
 Yet work'd his wo; and to the blissful groves, 
 Where Nature lived herself among her sons, 
 And Innocence and Joy for ever dwelt, 
 Drew rage unknown to pagan climes before 
 The worst the zeal-inflamed barbarian drew. ~J* 
 Be no such horrid commerce, Britain, thine ! 
 But want for want, with mutual aid, supply. 
 
 " The -Commons thus enrich'd, and powerful grown, 
 Against the Barons weigh'd. Eliza then, 
 
 * Henry VIII. t Of papal dominion. 
 
 John Wickliff, doctor of divinity, who, towards the close of 
 the fourteenth century, published doctrines very contrary to 
 those of the Church of Rome, and particularly denying the papal 
 authority. His followers grew very numerous, and were called 
 Lollards. 
 
 Suppression of monasteries. 
 
 |j The Spanish West Indies. 
 
283 LIBERTY. 
 
 Amid these doubtful motions, steady, gave 
 
 The beam to fix. She ! like the secret Eye, 
 
 That never closes on a guarded world, 
 
 So sought, so mark'd, so seized the public good* 
 
 That self-supported, without one ally, 
 
 She awed her inward, quell'd her circling foes. 
 
 Inspired by me, beneath her sheltering arm, 
 
 In spite of raging universal sway,t 
 
 And raging seas repress'd, the Belgic states, 
 
 My bulwark on the Continent, arose. 
 
 Matchless in all the spirit of her days ! 
 
 With confidence, unbounded, fearless love 
 
 Elate, her fervent people waited gay, 
 
 Cheerful demanded the long threateu'd fleet,* 
 
 And dash'd the pride of Spain around their isle. 
 
 Nor ceased the British thunder here to rage: 
 
 The deep, reclaim'd, obe/d its awful call; 
 
 In fire and smoke Iberian ports involved, 
 
 The trembling foe even to the centre shook 
 
 Of their new conquer'd world, and, skulking, stolo 
 
 By veering winds their Indian treasure home. 
 
 Meantime, Peace, Plenty, Justice, Science, Arts, 
 
 With softer laurels crown'd her happy reign. 
 
 As yet uncircumscribed the regal power, 
 
 And wild and vague prerogative remain'- 1; 
 
 A wide voracious gulf, where swalluw'd oft 
 
 The helpless subject lay. This to reduce 
 
 To the just limit, was my great effort* 
 
 "By means that evil seem to narrow man, 
 Superior Beings work their mystic will: 
 From storm and trouble thus a settled calm, 
 At last, effulgent, o'er Britannia smiled. 
 
 " The gathering tempest Heaven-comnrisijion'd came, 
 
 f The dominion of the house of Austria. 
 
 * The Spanish Armada. Rapin says, that after proper mea- 
 sures had been taken, the enemy was expected with uncommou 
 alacrity. 
 
BRITAIN. 289 
 
 Camn in the prince,* who, drunk with flattery, dreamt 
 
 His vain pacific counsels ruled the world; 
 
 Though scorn'd abroad, bewilder'd in a maze 
 
 Of fruitless treaties; while at home enslaved, 
 
 And by a worthless crew insatiate drain'd, 
 
 He lost his people's confidence and love: 
 
 Irreparable loss ! whence crowns become 
 
 An anxious burden. Years inglorious pass'd: 
 
 Triumphant Spain the vengeful draught enjoyM: 
 
 Abandon'd Frederickt pined, and Raleigh bled. 
 
 But nothing that to these internal broils, 
 
 That rancour, he began ; while lawless sway 
 
 He, with his slavish Doctors, tried to rear 
 
 On metaphysic, on enchanted ground, 
 
 And all the mazy quibbles of the schools: 
 
 As if fcr one, and sometimes for the worst, 
 
 Heaven had mankind in vengeance only made. 
 
 Vam 'the pretence ! not so the dire effect, 
 
 The fierce, the foolish discord thence derived, 
 
 That tears the country still, by party rage 
 
 And ministerial clamour kept alive. 
 
 In action weak, and for the wordy war 
 
 Best fitted, faint this prince pursued his claim: 
 
 Content to teach the subject herd, how great, 
 
 How sacred he ! how despicable they ! 
 
 "But his unyielding son|| these doctrines drank, 
 With all a bigot's rage (who never damps 
 By reasoning his fire); and what they taught, 
 Warm, and tenacious, into practice push'd. 
 
 * James I. 
 
 + Elector Palatine, and who had been chosen King of 
 Bohemia, but was stripped of all his dominions and dignities by 
 the Emperor Ferdinand, while James the First, his father-in- 
 law, being amused from time to time, endeavoured to mediate a 
 peace. 
 
 $ The monstrous and till then unheard-of doctrines of divine 
 indefeasible hereditary right, passive obedience, &c. 
 
 The parties of Whig and Tory. || Charles I. 
 
290 LIBERTY. 
 
 Senates, in vain, their kind restraint applied: 
 The more they struggled to support the laws, 
 His justice-dreading ministers the more 
 Drove him beyond their bounds. Tired with the check 
 Of faithful Love, and with the flattery pleased 
 Of false designing Guilt, the fountain* he 
 Of Public Wisdom and of Justice shut. 
 Wide mourn'd the land. Straight to the voted aid 
 Free, cordial, large, of never-failing source, 
 The illegal imposition follow*d harsh, 
 With execration given, or ruthless squeezed 
 From an insulted people, by a band 
 Of the worst ruffians, those of tyrant power. 
 Oppression walk'd at large, and pour*d abroad 
 Her unrelenting train: informers, spies, 
 Bloodhounds, that sturdy Freedom to the grove 
 Pursue; projectors of aggrieving schemes, 
 Commerce to load for unprotected seas,t 
 To sell the starving many to the few,t 
 And drain a thousand ways the exhausted land, 
 E'en from that place, whence healing Peace should flow, 
 And Gospel truth, inhuman bigots shed 
 Their poison round; and on tJio veaal bench, 
 Instead of justice, party held the scale, 
 And violence the sword. Afflicted years, 
 Too patient, felt at last their vengeance full. 
 u 'Mid the low murmurs of submissive fear 
 And mingled rage, my Hampden raised his voice, 
 And to the laws apBfiaCd; the laws no more 
 In judgment sat, behoved some other ear. 
 When instant from the keen resentive North, 
 By long oppression, by religion roused, 
 The guardiagjftnpycame. Beneath its wing 
 
 * Parliaments. f Ship-money. Monopolies. 
 The raging High-Church sermons of these times, ins]ir' 
 spirit of slavish submission to the court, and of bitter persecution 
 against those whom they call Church aud State Puritans. 
 
BRITAIN. 291 
 
 Was call'd, though meant to furnish hostile aid, 
 The more than Roman senate. There a flame 
 Broke out, that clear'd, consumed, renew' d the land. 
 In deep emotion hurl'd, nor Greece, nor Rome, 
 Indignant bursting from a tyrant's chain, 
 While, full of me, each agitated soul 
 Strung every nerve and flamed in every eye, 
 Had e'er beheld such light and heat combined ! 
 Such heads and hearts ! such dreadful zeal, led ou 
 By calm majestic wisdom, taught its course 
 What nuisance to devour; such wisdom fired 
 With unabating zeal, and aim'd sincere 
 To clear the weedy state, restore the laws, 
 And for the future to secure their sway t 
 
 " This then the purpose of my mildest sons. 
 But man is blind. A nation once inflamed 
 (CnTef, should the breath of factious fury blow, 
 With the wild rage of mad enthusiast swell' d) 
 Fot easy cools again. From breast to breast, 
 From eye to eye, the kindling passions mix 
 In height en' d blaze; and, ever wise and just, 
 High Heaven to gracious ends directs the storm. 
 Thus in one conflagration Britain, wrapt, 
 And by Confusion's lawless sons despoil' d, 
 King, Lords, and Commons, thundering to the ground, 
 Successive, rush'd Lo ! from their ashes rose, 
 Gay beaming radiant youth, the Phoenix State.* 
 
 " The grievous yoke of vassalage, the yoke 
 Of private life, lay by those flames dissolved; 
 And, from the wasteful, the luxurious king,f 
 Was purchased^ that which taught the young to bend. 
 Stronger restored, the Commons tax' d the whole, 
 And built on that eternal rock their power. 
 ThlLCrjojYn^of its hereditary wealth 
 Despoil' d, on senates more dependent grew, 
 
 * At the Restoration. t Charles II. J Court of Ward?. 
 
292 LIBERTY. 
 
 And they more frequent^ more assured. Ytt lived, 
 
 And in full vigour spread that bitter root, 
 
 The passive doctrines, by their patrons first, 
 
 Opposed ferocious, when they touch themselves. 
 "This wild delusive cant; the rash cabal 
 
 Of hungry courtiers, ravenous for prey; 
 
 The bigot, restless in a double chain 
 
 To bind anew the land; the constant need 
 
 Of finding faithless means, of shifting forms, 
 . And flattering senates, to supply his waste; 
 
 These tore some moments from the careless prince, 
 
 And in his breast awaked the kindred plan. 
 
 By dangerous softness long he mined his way; 
 
 By subtle arts, dissimulation deep; 
 
 By sharing what corruption shower'd, profuse; 
 
 By breathing wide the gay licentious plague, 
 
 And pleasing manners, fitted to deceive. 
 " At last subsided the delirious joy, 
 
 On whose high billow, from the saintly reign, 
 
 The nation drove too far. A pensioned king, 
 
 Against his country bribed by Gallic gold, 
 
 The Port* pernicious sold, the Scylla since 
 
 And fell Charybdis of the British seas; 
 
 Freedom attack'd abroad,t with surer blow 
 
 To cut it off at home; the saviour league! 
 
 Of Europe broke; the progress e'en advanced 
 
 Of universal sway, which to reduce, 
 
 Such seas of blood and treasure Britain cost; 
 
 The millions, by a generous people given, 
 
 Or squander'd vile, or to corrupt, disgrace, 
 f And awe the land with forces] | not their own 
 ^Employ'd; the darling church herself betray 'd; 
 
 All these, broad glaring, oped the general eye, 
 
 Dunkirk. 
 
 f The war in conjunction with France, against the Put -h. 
 J The Triple Alliance. Under Louis XIV. 
 
 || A standing army, raised without the consent of Parl'iaim nt. 
 
UiL in. 
 
 3fs 
 
 rar, 
 
 m.i 
 
 BRITAIN. 293 
 
 And waked my spirit, the resisting soul. 
 
 "Mild was, at first, and half-ashamed the check 
 Of senates, shook from the fantastic dream 
 Of absolute submission, tenets vile ! 
 Which slaves would blush to own, and which reduced 
 To practice, always honest nature shock. 
 Not e'en the mask removed, and the fierce front 
 Of tyranny disclosed; nor trampled laws; 
 Nor seized each badge of freedom* through the land: 
 Nor Sidney bleeding for the unpublish'd page; 
 Nor on the bench avow'd corruption placed, 
 And murderous rage itself, in Jeflferies* form;t 
 Nor endless acts of arbitrary power, 
 Cruel and false, could raise the public arm. 
 Distrustful, scatter'd, of combining chiefs 
 Devoid, and dreading blind rapacious war, 
 The patient public turns not, till impell'd - 
 To the near verge of ruin. HcnceJ roused^ 
 The bigot king,! and hurried fated on 
 EKsTneastires immature. But chief his zeal, 
 OiiFHaming Rome herself, portentous scared 
 The troubled nation: Mary's horrid days 
 To fancy bleeding rose, and the dire glare 
 Of Smithfield lighten'd in its eyes anew. 
 Yet silence reign' d. Each on another scowl'd 
 Rueful amazement, pressing down his rage: 
 As, mustering vengeance, the deep thunder frowns, 
 Awfully still, waiting the high command 
 To spring. Straight from his country Europe saved, 
 To save Britannia, lo ! my darling son, 
 Than hero more ! the patriot of mankind ! 
 Immortal Nassau came. I hush'd the deep, 
 By demons roused, and bade the listed winds, 
 
 * The charters of corporations. 
 
 f Judge Jefferies. J James II. 
 
 The Prince of Orange, in his passage to England, though his 
 fleet had been at first dispersed by a storm, was afterwards ex- 
 tremely favoured by several changes of wind. 
 
294 LIBERTY. 
 
 Still shifting as behoved, with various breath, 
 Waft the deliverer to the longing shore. 
 See ! wide alive, the foaming channel* bright 
 With swelling sails, and all the pride of war, 
 Delightful view ! when Justice draws the sword: 
 And mark ! diffusing ardent soul around, 
 And sweet contempt of death, My streaming flag,t 
 E'en adverse naviesj bless'd the binding gale, 
 Kept down the glad acclaim, and silent joy'd. 
 Arrived, the pomp, and not the waste, of arms 
 His progress mark'd. The faint opposing host 
 For once, in yielding then* best victory found, 
 And by desertion proved exalted faith: 
 While his the bloodless conquest of the heart, 
 Shouts without groan, and triumph without war. 
 
 " Then dawn'd the period destined to confine 
 The surge of wild prerogative, to raise 
 A mound restraining its imperious rage. 
 And bid the raving deep no farther flow. 
 Nor where, without that fence, the swallowed stnte 
 Better than Belgian plains without their dykes, 
 Sustaining weighty seas. This, often saved 
 By more than human hand, the public saw, 
 
 * Rapin, in his " History of England," says, "On the third of 
 November, the fleet entered the Channel, and lay by between 
 Calais and Dover, to stay for the ships that were behind. Here 
 the Prince called a council of war. It is easy to imagine what 
 a glorious show the fleet made. Five or six hundred snips in 
 BO narrow a channel, and both the English and French s* 
 covered with numberless spectators, are no common sight, 
 my part, who was then on board the fleet, I own it struck me ex- 
 tremely. " 
 
 f The Prince placed himself in the main body, carrying a flag 
 with English colours, and their highnesses' arras surrounded with 
 this motto, " The Protestant Religion and the Liberties of 
 land;" and underneath, the motto of the house of Nassau, " Je 
 maintiendrai," I will maintain. Rui>in. 
 
 The English fleet. The king's army. 
 
BRITAIN. 295 
 
 And seized the white-wing'd moment. Pleased* to yield 
 Destructive power, a wise heroic princet 
 Ejen lent his aid Thrice happy ! did they know 
 Their Happiness, Britannia's bounded kings. 
 What though not theirs the boast, in dungeon glooms, 
 To plunge bold freedom; or, to cheerless wilds, 
 To drive him from the cordial face of friend; 
 Or fierce to strike him at the midnight hour, 
 By mandate blind, not justice, that delights 
 To dare the keenest eye of open day. 
 What though no glory to control the laws, 
 And make injurious will their only rule, 
 They deem it. What though, tools of wanton power, 
 Pestiferous armies swarm not at their call. 
 What though they give not a relentless crew 
 Of civil furies, proud oppression's fangs ! 
 To tear at pleasure the dejected laud, 
 With starving labour pampering idle waste. 
 To clothe the naked, feed the hungry, wipe 
 The guiltless tear from lone affliction's eye; 
 To raise hid merit, set the alluring light 
 Of virtue high to view; to nourish arts, 
 Direct the thunder of an injured state, 
 Make a whole glorious people sing for joy, 
 Bless human-kind, and through the downward depth 
 Of future times to spread that better sun 
 Which lights up British soul: for deeds like these, 
 The dazzling fair career unbounded lies: 
 While (still superior bliss !) the dark abrupt 
 Is kindly barr*d, the precipice of ill. 
 luxury divine ! poor to this, 
 Ye giddy glories of despotic thrones ! 
 By this, by this indeed, is imaged Heaven, 
 By^bpundless good without the power of ill. 
 " And now behold ! exalted as the cope 
 
 * By the Bill of Eights and the Act of Succession. 
 f Williani III. 
 
296 LIBERTY. 
 
 That swells immense o'er many-peopled eai th, 
 And like it free, my fabric stands complete, 
 The palace of the laws. To the four heavens 
 Four gates impartial thrown, unceasing crowds, 
 With kings themselves the hearty peasant mix'<], 
 Pour urgent in. And though to different ranks 
 Responsive place belongs, yet equal spreads 
 The sheltering roof o'er all; while plenty flows, 
 And glad contentment echoes round the whole. 
 Ye floods, descend ! Ye winds, confirming, blow ! 
 Nor outward tempest, nor corrosive time, 
 Nought but the felon undermining hand 
 Of dark Corruption, can its frame dissolve, 
 And lay the toil of ages in the dust." 
 
LIBERTY, 
 
 PART V. 
 THE PR OSPECT. 
 
 The author addresses the Goddess of Liberty, marking the happiness and 
 grandeur of Great Britain, as arising from her influence. She resumes 
 her discourse, and points out the chief Virtues which are necessary to 
 maintain her establishment there. Recommends, as its last ornament 
 and finishing, Sciences, Fine Arts, and Public works. The encourage- 
 ment of these urged from the example of France, though under a de- 
 spotic government. The whole concludes with a prospect of future times, 
 given by the Goddess of Liberty: this described by the author, as it 
 passes in vision before him. 
 
 HERE interposing, as the Goddess paused: 
 " bless'd Britannia ! in thy presence bless'd, 
 Thou guardian of mankind ! whence spring, alone, 
 All human grandeur, happiness, and fame; 
 For toil, by thee protected, feels no pain; 
 The poor man's lot with milk and honey flows; 
 And, gilded with thy rays, even death looks gay. 
 Let other lands the potent blessings boast 
 Of more exalting suns. Let Asia's woods, 
 Untended, yield the vegetable fleece: 
 And let the little insect-artist form, 
 On higher life intent, its silken tomb. 
 Let wondering rocks, in radiant birth, disclose 
 The various tinctured children of the sun. 
 From the prone beam let more delicious fruits, 
 A flavour drink, that in one piercing taste 
 Bids each combine. Let Gallic vineyards burst 
 With floods of joy; with mild balsamic juice 
 
298 LIBERTY. 
 
 The Tuscan olive. Let Arabia breathe 
 
 Her spicy gales, her vital gums distil. 
 
 Turbid with gold, let southern rivers flow; 
 
 And orient floods draw soft, o'er pearls, their maze. 
 
 Let Afric vaunt her treasures; let Peru 
 
 Deep in her bowels her own ruin breed, 
 
 The yellow traitor that her bliss betrayM 
 
 Unequall'd bliss and to unequall'd rage ! 
 
 Yet nor the gorgeous East, nor golden South, 
 
 Nor, in full prime, that new discovered world, 
 
 Where flames the falling 4ay, in wealth and praise. 
 
 Shall with Britannia vie; while, Goddess, she 
 
 Derives her praise from thee, her matchless charms. 
 
 Her hearty fruits the hand of freedom own; 
 
 And warm with culture, her thick clustering fields 
 
 Prolific teem. Eternal verdure crowns 
 
 Her meads; her gardens smile eternal spring. 
 
 She gives the hunter-horse, unquell'd by toil, 
 
 Ardent, to rush into the rapid chase: 
 
 She, whitening o'er her downs, diffusive, pours 
 
 Unnumber'd flocks: she weaves the fleecy robe, 
 
 That wraps the nations: she, to lusty droves, 
 
 The richest pasture spreads; and, hers, deep-wave 
 
 Autumnal seas of pleasing plenty round. 
 
 These are delights: and by no baneful herb, 
 
 No darting tiger, no grim lion's glare, 
 
 No fierce-descending wolf, no serpent roll'd 
 
 In spires immense progressive o'er the land, 
 
 Disturb'd. Enlivening these, add cities, full 
 
 Of wealth, of trade, of cheerful toiling crowds; 
 
 Add thriving towns; add villages and farms, 
 
 Innumerous sow'd along the lively vale, 
 
 Where bold unrivall'd peasants happy dwell-; 
 
 Add ancient seats, with venerable oaks 
 
 Einbosom'd high, while kindred floods below 
 
 Wind through the mead; and those of modern band, 
 
 More pompous, add, that splendid shine afar. 
 
 Need I her limpid lakes, her rivers name 
 
THE PROSPECT. 299 
 
 Where swarm the finny race? Thee, chief, Thames 1 
 
 On whose each tide, glad with returning sails, 
 
 Flows in the mingled harvest of mankind ! 
 
 And thee, thou Severn, whose prodigious swell, 
 
 And waves, resounding, imitate the main ! 
 
 Why need I name her deep capacious ports, 
 
 That point around the world 1 and why her seas 1 
 
 All ocean is her own, and every land 
 
 To whom her ruling thunder ocean bears. 
 
 She too the mineral feeds: the obedient lead, 
 
 The warlike iron, nor the peaceful less, 
 
 Forming of life art-civilised the bond; 
 
 And that* the Tyrian merchant sought of old, 
 
 Not dreaming then of Britain's brighter fame. 
 
 She rears to freedom an undaunted race: 
 
 Compatriot zealous, hospitable, kind, 
 
 Hers the warm Cambrian: hers the lofty Scot, 
 
 To hardship tamed, active in arts and arms, 
 
 Fired with a restless, an impatient flame, 
 
 That leads him raptured where ambition calls: 
 
 And English merit hers; where meet, combined, 
 
 Whate'er high fancy, sound judicious thought, 
 
 An ample generous heart, undrooping soul, 
 
 And firm tenacious valour can bestow. 
 
 Great nurse of fruits, of flocks, of commerce, she ! 
 
 Great nurse of men ! by thee, Goddess, taught, 
 
 Her old renown I trace, disclose her source 
 
 Of wealth, of grandeur, and to Britons sing 
 
 A strain the Muses never touched before. 
 
 " But how shall this thy mighty kingdom stand ? 
 On what unyielding base 1 how finished shine ?" 
 
 At this her eye, collecting all its fire, 
 Beam'd more than human; and her awful voice, 
 Majestic thus she raised: " To Britons bear 
 This closing strain, and with intenser note 
 Loud let it sound in their awaken'd ear: 
 
 Tin. 
 
300 LIBERTY. 
 
 " On virtue can alone my kingdom stand, 
 On public virtue, every virtue join'd. 
 For, lost tliis social cement of mankind, 
 The greatest empires, by scarce-felt degrees, 
 Will moulder soft away; till, tottering loose, 
 They, prone at last, to total ruin rush. 
 Unbless'd by virtue, government a league 
 Becomes, a circling junto of the great, 
 To rob by law; religion mild, a yoke 
 To tame the stooping soul, a trick of state 
 To mask their rapine, and to share the prey. 
 What are, without it, senates; save a face 
 Of consultation deep and reason free, 
 While the determined voice and heart are sold ? 
 What boasted freedom, save a sounding name 1 
 And what election, but a market vile 
 Of slaves self-barter'd ? Virtue ! without thee, 
 There is no ruling eye, no nerve, in states; 
 War has no vigour, and no safety peace: 
 E'en justice warps to party, laws oppress, 
 Wide through the land their weak protection fails, 
 First broke the balance, and then scorn'd the sword. 
 Thus nations sink, society dissolves; 
 Rapine, and guile, and violence break loose, 
 Everting life, and turning love to gall; 
 Man hates the face of man, and Indian woods 
 And Libya's hissing sands to him are tame. 
 
 " By those three virtues be the frame sustain'd 
 Of British freedom: independent life; 
 Integrity in office; and, o'er all 
 Supreme, a passion for the eommonuval. 
 
 "Hail! Independence, hail! Heaven's next best gift, 
 To that of life and an immortal soul ! 
 The life of life ! that to the banquet high 
 And sober meal gives taste; to the bow'd roof 
 Fair-dream'd repose, and to the cottage charms. 
 Of public freedom, hail, thou secret source ! 
 Whose streams, from every quarter confluent, form 
 
THE PROSPECT. 301 
 
 My better Nile, that nurses human life. 
 By rills from thee deduced, irriguous, fed, 
 The private field looks gay, with nature's wealth 
 Abundant flows, and blooms with each delight 
 That nature craves. Its happy master there, 
 The only freeman, walks his pleasing round: 
 Sweet-featured peace attending; fearless truth; 
 Firm resolution; goodness, blessing all 
 That can rejoice; contentment, surest friend; 
 And, still fresh stores from nature's book derived, 
 Philosophy, companion ever new. 
 These cheer his rural, and sustain or fire, 
 When into action call'd, his busy hours. 
 Meantime true judging moderate desires, 
 Economy and taste, combined, direct 
 His clear affairs, and from debauching fiends 
 Secure his little kingdom. Nor can those 
 Whom fortune heaps, without these virtues reach 
 That truce with pain, that animated ease, 
 That self-enjoyment springing from within; 
 That independence, active or retired, 
 Which make the soundest bliss of man below: 
 But, lost beneath the rubbish of their means, 
 And drain'd by wants to nature all unknown, 
 A wandering, tasteless, gaily wretched train, 
 Though rich, are beggars, and though noble, slaves. 
 " Lo ! damn'd to wealth, at what a gross expense 
 They purchase disappointment, pain, and shame. 
 Instead of hearty, hospitable cheer, 
 See ! how the hall with brutal riot flows; 
 While in the foaming flood, fermenting, steep d, 
 The country maddens into party rage. 
 Mark ! those disgraceful piles of wood and stone; 
 Those parks and gardens, where, his haunts betrimm'd, 
 And nature by presumptuous art oppress' d, 
 The woodland genius mourns. See ! the full board 
 That steams disgust, and bowls that give no joy; 
 No truth invited there, to feed the mind; 
 
302 LIBERTY. 
 
 Nor wit, the wine-rejoicing reason quaffs. 
 
 Hark ! how the dome with insolence resounds, 
 
 With those retain' d by vanity to scare 
 
 Repose and friends. To tyrant fashion, mark ! 
 
 The costly worship paid, to the broad gaze 
 
 Of fools. From still delusive day to day, 
 
 Led an eternal round of lying hope, 
 
 See ! self-abandon'd, how they roam adrift, 
 
 Dash'd o'er the town, a miserable wreck ! 
 
 Then to adore some warbling eunuch turn'd, 
 
 With Midas' ears they crowd; or to the buzz 
 
 Of masquerade unblushing: or, to show 
 
 Their scorn of nature, at the tragic scene 
 
 They mirthful sit, or prove the comic true. 
 
 But, chief, behold ! around the rattling board, 
 
 The civil robbers ranged; and e'en the fair, 
 
 The tender fair, each sweetness laid aside, 
 
 As fierce for plunder as all-licenced troops 
 
 In some sack'd city. Thus dissolved their wealth, 
 
 Without one generous luxury dissolved, 
 
 Or quarter'd on it many a needless want, 
 
 At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe; 
 
 With fair but faithless smiles each varnish'd o'er, 
 
 Each smooth as those that mutually deceive, 
 
 And for their falsehood each despising each; 
 
 Till shook their patron by the wintry winds, 
 
 Wide flies the wither'd shower, and leaves him bare. 
 
 far superior Afric's sable sons, 
 
 By merchant pilfered, to these willing slaves ! 
 
 And rich, as unsqueezed favourite, to them, 
 
 Is he who can his virtue boast alone. 
 
 " Britons ! be firm ! nor let corruption s'y 
 Twine round your heart indissoluble chains ! 
 The steel of Brutus burst the grosser bonds 
 By Caesar cast o'er Rome; but still remainM 
 The soft enchanting fetters of the mind, 
 And other Caesars rose. Determined, hold 
 Your independence; for, that once destroy'*!, 
 
THE PROSPECT. 303 
 
 Unfounded, Freedom is a morning dream, 
 That flits aerial from the spreading eye. 
 
 " Forbid it, Heaven ! that ever I need urge 
 Integrity in office on my sons ! 
 
 Inculcate common honour not to rob 
 
 And whom ? the gracious, the confiding hand, 
 That lavishly rewards ? the toiling poor, 
 Whose cup with many a bitter drop is mix'd; 
 The guardian public; every face they see, 
 And every friend; nay, in effect themselves. 
 As in familiar life, the villain's fate 
 Admits no cure; so, when a desperate age 
 At this arrives, I the devoted race 
 Indignant spurn, and hopeless soar away. 
 
 "But, ah too little known to modern times! 
 Be not the noblest passion past unsung; 
 That ray peculiar, from unbounded love 
 Effused, which kindles the heroic soul; 
 Devotion to the. public. Glorious flame ! 
 Celestial ardour ! in what unknown worlds, 
 Profusely scattered through the blue immense, 
 Hast thou been blessing myriads, since in Rome, 
 Old virtuous Rome, so many deathless names 
 From thee their lustre drew: since, taught by thee, 
 Their poverty put splendour to the blush, 
 Pain grew luxurious, and e'en death delight 1 
 wilt thou ne'er, in thy long period, look, 
 With blaze direct, on this my last retreat ? , 
 
 "'Tis not enough, from self right understood 
 Reflected, that thy rays inflame the heart: 
 Though virtue not disdains appeals to self, 
 Dreads not the trial; all her joys are true, 
 Nor is there any real joy save hers. 
 Far less the tepid, the declaiming race, 
 Foes to corruption, to its wages friends, 
 Or those whom private passions, for awhiJe, 
 Beneath my standard list; can they suffice 
 To raise and fix the glory of my reign ? 
 
304 LIBERTY. 
 
 "An active flood of universal love 
 Must swell the breast. First, hi effusion wide, 
 The restless spirit roves creation round, 
 And seizes every being: stronger then 
 It tends tc life, whatever the kindred search 
 Of bliss allies: then, more collected, still, 
 It urges human-kind; a passion grown, 
 At last, the central parent public calls 
 Its utmost effort forth, awakes each sense, 
 The comely, grand, and tender. Without this, 
 This awful pant, shook from sublimer powers 
 Than those of self, this heaven-infused delight, 
 This moral gravitation, rushing prone 
 To press the public good, my system soon, 
 Traverse, to several selfish centres drawn, 
 Will reel to ruin: while for ever shut 
 Stand the bright portals of desponding fame. 
 
 "From sordid self shoot up no shining deeds 
 None of those ancient lights, that gladden earth, 
 Give grace to being, and arouse the brave 
 To just ambition, virtue's quickening fire ! 
 Life tedious grows, an idly bustling round, 
 Fill'd up with actions animal and mean, 
 A dull gazette ! The impatient reader scorns 
 The poor historic page; till kindly comes 
 Oblivion, and redeems a people's shame. 
 Not so the times when, emulation-stung, 
 Greece shone in genius, science, and in arts. 
 And Rome in virtues dreadful to be told ! 
 To live was glory then ! and charm'd mankind 
 Through the deep periods of devolving time, 
 Those, raptured, copy; these, astonish' d, read. 
 
 "True, a corrupted state, with every vice 
 And every meanness foul, this passion damps. 
 Who can, unshock'd, behold the cruel eye I 
 The pale inveigling smile ! the ruffian front ! 
 The wretch abandoned to relentless self, 
 vile if miser or profuse? 
 
THE PROSPECT. 305 
 
 Powers not of God, assiduous to corrupt ? 
 
 The fell deputed tyrant, who devours 
 
 The poor and weak, at distance from redress ? 
 
 Delirious faction bellowing loud my name ? 
 
 The false fair-seeming patriot's hollow boast? 
 
 A race resolved on bondage, fierce for chains, 
 
 My sacred rights a merchandise alone 
 
 Esteeming, and to work their feeder's will 
 
 By deeds, a horror to mankind, prepared, 
 
 As were the dregs of Romulus of old ? 
 
 Who these indeed can undetesting see ? 
 
 But who unpitying 1 to the generous eye 
 
 Distress is virtue; and, though self-betrayM, 
 
 A people struggling with their fate must rouse 
 
 The hero's throb. Nor can a land, at once, 
 
 Be lost to virtue quite. How glorious then ! 
 
 Fit luxury for gods ! to save the good, 
 
 Protect the feeble, dash bold vice aside, 
 
 Depress the wicked, and restore the frail. 
 
 Posterity, besides ! the young are pure, 
 
 And sons may tinge their father's cheek with shame. 
 
 " Should then the times arrive (which Heaven avert !) 
 That Britons bend unnerved, not by the force 
 Of arms, more generous and more manly, quell'd, 
 But by corruption's soul-dejecting arts, 
 Arts impudent ! and gross ! by their own .gpltj, 
 In part bestow'd, to bribe them to give all, 
 With party raging, or immersed in sloth, 
 Should they Britannia's well-fought laurels yield 
 To slily conquering Gaul; e'en from her brow 
 Let her own naval oak be basely torn, 
 By such as tremble at the stiffening gale, 
 And nerveless sink while others sing rejoiced: 
 Or (darker prospect ! scarce one gleam behind 
 Disclosing) should the broad corruptive plague 
 Breathe from the city to the farthest hut, 
 That sits serene within the forest shade; 
 The fever'd people fire, inflame their wants. 
 
306 LIBERTY. 
 
 And their luxurious thirst, so gathering rage, 
 That, were a buyer found, they stand prepared 
 To sell their birthright for a cooling draught. 
 Should shameless pens for plain corruption plead; 
 The hired assassins of the commonweal ! 
 Deem'd the declaiming rant of Greece and Rome, 
 Should public virtue grow the public scoff, 
 Till private, failing, staggers through the land: 
 Till round the city loose mechanic want, 
 Dire prowling nightly, makes the cheerful haunts 
 Of men more hideous than Numidian wilds, 
 Nor from its fury sleeps the vale in peace; 
 And murders, horrors, perjuries abound: 
 Nay, till to lowest deeds the highest stoop; 
 The rich, like starving wretches, thirst for gold; 
 And those, on whom the vernal showers of Heaven 
 All-bounteous fall, and that prime lot bestow, 
 A power to live to nature and themselves, 
 In sick attendance wear their anxious days, 
 With fortune, joyless, and with honours, mean. 
 Meantime, perhaps, profusion flows around, 
 The waste of war, without the works of peace; 
 No mark of millions in the gulf absorpt 
 Of uncreating vice, none but the rage 
 Of roused corruption still demanding more. 
 That very portion, which (by faithful skill 
 Employed) might make the smiling public rear 
 Her ornamented head, drill'd through the hands 
 Of mercenary tools, serves but to nurse 
 A locust band within, and in the bud 
 Leaves starved each work of dignity and use. 
 
 "I paint the worst. But should these times arrive, 
 If any nobler passion yet remain, 
 Let all my sons all parties fling aside, 
 Despise their nonsense, and together join; 
 Let worth and virtue scorning low despair, 
 Exerted full, from every quarter shine, 
 Commix'd in heighten'd blaze. Light flash'd to light, 
 
THE PROSPECT. 307 
 
 Moral, or intellectual, more intense 
 By giving glows. As on pure winter's eve, 
 Gradual, the stars effulge; fainter, at first, 
 They, straggling, rise; but when the radiant host, 
 In thick profusion pour'd, shine out immense, 
 Each casting vivid influence on each, 
 From pole to pole a glittering deluge plays, 
 And worlds above rejoice, and men below. 
 
 "But why to Britons this superfluous strain 1 
 Good nature, honest truth e'en somewhat blunt, 
 Of crooked baseness an indignant scorn, 
 A zeal unyielding in their country's cause, 
 And ready bounty, wont to dwell with them 
 Nor only wont wide o'er the land diffused, 
 In many a bless'd retirement still they dwell. 
 
 "To softer prospect turn we now the view, 
 To laurell'd science, arts, and public works, 
 That lend my finish' d fabric comely pride, 
 Grandeur, and grace. Of sullen genius he ! 
 Cursed by the Muses ! by the Graces loathed ! 
 Who deems beneath the public's high regard 
 These last enlivening touches of my reign. 
 However puff d with power, and gorged with wealth, 
 A nation be; let trade enormous rise, 
 Let East and South their mingled treasure pour, 
 Till, swell'd impetuous, the corrupting flood 
 Burst o'er the city, and devour the land: 
 Yet these neglected, these recording arts, 
 Wealth rots, a nuisance; and, oblivious sunk, 
 That nation must another Carthage lie. 
 If not by them, on monumental brass, 
 On sculptured marble, on the deathless page, 
 Impress'd, renown had left no trace behind: 
 In vain, to future times, the sage had thought, 
 The legislator plann'd, the hero found 
 A beauteous death, the patriot toil'd in vain. 
 The awarders they of Fame's immortal wreath 
 They rouse ambition, they the mind exalt, 
 
308 LIBERTY. 
 
 Give great ideas, lovely forms infuse, 
 Delight the general eye, and, dress'd by them, 
 The moral Yenus glows with double charms. 
 " Science, my close associate, still attends 
 Where'er I go. Sometimes, in simple guise, 
 She walks the furrow with the consul-swain, 
 Whispering unlettered wisdom to the heart, 
 Direct; or, sometimes, in the pompous robe 
 Of fancy dress'd, she charms Athenian wits, 
 And a whole sapient city round her burns. 
 Then o'er her brow Minerva's terrors nod: 
 With Xenophon, sometimes in dire extremes, 
 She breathes deliberate soul, and makes retreat* 
 Unequall'd glory: with the Theban sage, 
 Epaminondas, first and best of men ! 
 Sometimes she bids the deep-embattled host, 
 Above the vulgar reach, resistless form'd, 
 March to sure conquest never gain'd before !t 
 Nor on the treacherous seas of giddy state 
 Unskilful she: when the triumphant tide 
 Of high-swoln empire wears one boundless smile, 
 And the gale tempts to new pursuits of fame, 
 Sometimes, with Scipio, she collects her sail, 
 And seeks the blissful shore of rural ease, 
 Where, but the Aonian maids, no syrens sing; 
 Or should the deep-brew'd tempest muttering rise, 
 While rocks and shoals perfidious lurk around, 
 With Tully she her wide-reviving light 
 To senates holds; a Catiline confounds, 
 
 * The famous Retreat of the Ten Thousand was chiefly con- 
 ducted by Xenophon. 
 
 t Epaminondas, after having beau the Lacedaemonians and 
 their allies, in the battle of Leuctra, made an incursion, at the 
 head of a powerful army, into Laconia. It was now six In 
 years since the Dorians had possessed this country, and in all that 
 time the face of an enemy had not been seen within their terri- 
 tories. Plviarch in Agettiaut. 
 
THE PROSPECT. 309 
 
 And saves awhile from Caesar sinking Rome. 
 Such the kind power, whose piercing eye dissolves 
 Each mental fetter, and sets reason free; 
 For me inspiring an enlighten'd zeal, 
 The more tenacious as the more convinced 
 How happy freemen, and how wretched slaves. 
 To Britons not unknown, to Britons full 
 The Goddess spreads her stores, the secret soul 
 That quickens trade, the breath unseen that wafts 
 To them the treasures of a balanced world. 
 But finer arts (save what the Muse has sung 
 In daring flight, above all modern wing) 
 Neglected droop the head; and public works, 
 Broke by corruption into private gain, 
 Not ornament, disgrace; not serve, destroy. 
 
 Shall Britons, by their own joint wisdom ruled 
 Beneath one Royal Head, whose vital power 
 Connects, enlivens, and exerts the whole; 
 In finer arts, and public works, shall they 
 To Gallia yield ? yield to a land that bends 
 Depressed, and broke, beneath the will of one ? 
 Of one who, should the unkingly thirst of gold, 
 Or tyrant passions, or ambition, prompt, 
 Calls locust-armies o'er the blasted land: 
 Drains from its thirsty bounds the springs of wealth, 
 His own insatiate reservoir to fill: 
 To the lone desert patriot-merit frowns, 
 Or into dungeons arts, when they their chains, 
 Indignant, bursting; for their nobler works 
 All other license scorn but truth's and mine. 
 Oh, shame to think ! shall Britons, in the field 
 Unconquer'd still, the better laurel lose ? 
 E'en in that monarch's reign,* who vainly dreamt, 
 By giddy power, betray'd, and flatter'd pride, 
 To grasp unbounded sway; while, swarming round, 
 His armies dared all Europe to the field; 
 
 * Louis XIV. 
 
310 LIBERTY. 
 
 To hostile hands while treasure flow'd profuse, 
 And, that great source of treasure, subjects' blood, 
 Inhuman squander' d, sicken'd every land; 
 From Britain, chief, while my superior sons, 
 In vengeance rushing, dash'd his idle hopes, 
 And bade his agonising heart be low: 
 E'en then, as in the golden calm of peace, 
 What public works, at home, what arts arose ! 
 What various science shone ! what genius glow'd ! 
 
 "'Tis not for me to paint, diffusive shot 
 O'er fair extents of land, the shining road; 
 The flood-compelling arch; the long canal,* 
 Through mountains piercing and uniting seas: 
 The domet resounding sweet with infant joy, 
 From famine saved , or cruel-handed shame; 
 And thatt where valour counts his noble scars, 
 The land where social pleasure loves to dwell, 
 Of the fierce demon, Gothic duel, freed; 
 The robber from his farthest forest chased; 
 The turbid city clear'd, and, by degrees, 
 Into sure peace the best police refined; 
 Magnificence, and grace, and decent joy. 
 Let Gallic bards record, how honour'd arts, 
 And science, by despotic bounty bless'd, 
 At distance flourished from my parent-eye. 
 Restoring ancient taste, how Boileau rose: 
 
 The trembling stage. In elegant Racine, 
 How the more powerful, though more humble voice 
 Of nature-painting Greece, resistless, breathed 
 The whole awaken'd heart. How Molicre's scene, 
 Chastised and regular, with well-judged wit, 
 Not scatterM wild, and native humour, graced, 
 Was life itself. To public honours raised, 
 
 * The Canal of Languedoc. 
 
 f The Hospitals for Foundlings and Invalids. 
 
THE PROSPECT. 311 
 
 How learning in warm seminaries* spread; 
 
 And~m6re for glory than the small reward, 
 
 How emulation strove. How their pure tongue 
 
 Almost obtain'd what was denied their arms. 
 
 From Rome, awhile, how Painting, courted long, 
 
 With Poussin came; ancient design that lifts 
 
 A fairer front^ and looks another soul. 
 
 How the kind art,f that, of unvalued price, 
 
 The famed and only picture, easy, gives, 
 
 Refined her touch, and, through the shadow'd piece, 
 
 All the live spirit of the painter pour d. 
 
 Coyest of arts, how Sculpture northward deign' d 
 
 A look, and bade her Girardon arise. 
 
 How lavish grandeur blazed; the barren waste, 
 
 Astonish'd saw the sudden palace swell, 
 
 And fountains spout amid its arid shades. 
 
 For leagues, bright vistas opening to the view, 
 
 How forests in majestic gardens smiled. 
 
 How menial arts, by their gay sisters taught, 
 
 Wove the deep flower, the blooming foliage train'd 
 
 In joyous figures o'er the silky lawn, 
 
 The palace cheer* d, illumed the storied wall, 
 
 And with the pencil vied the glowing loom.J 
 
 " These laurels, Louis, by the droppings raised 
 Of thy profusion, its dishonour shade, 
 And, green through future times, shall bind thy brow; 
 While the vain honours of perfidious war 
 Wither abhorr'd, or in oblivion lost. 
 With what prevailing vigour had they shot, 
 And stole a deeper root, by the full tide 
 Of war-sunk millions fed 1 Superior still, 
 How had they branch'd luxuriant to the skies, 
 In Britain planted, by the potent juice 
 Of Freedom swell'd ? Forced is the bloom of arts, 
 
 * The Academies of Sciences, of the Belles Lettres, and of 
 Painting. 
 
 t Engraving. J The tapestry of the Gobelins. 
 
312 LIBERTY. 
 
 A false uncertain spring, when Bounty gives, 
 Weak without me, a transitory gleam. 
 Fair shine the slippery days, enticing skies 
 Of favour smile, and courtly breezes blow; 
 Till arts, betray'd, trust to the flattering air 
 Their tender blossom: then malignant rise 
 The blights of Envy, of those insect clouds, 
 That, blasting merit, often cover courts: 
 Nay, should, perchance, some kind Maecenas aid 
 The doubtful beamings of his prince's soul, 
 His wavering ardour fix, and unconfined 
 Diffuse his warm beneficence around; 
 Yet death, at last, and wintry tyrants come, 
 Each sprig of genius killing it the root. 
 But when with me imperial Bounty joins, 
 Wide o'er the public blows eternal spring; 
 While mingled autumn every harvest pours 
 Of every land; whate'er Invention, Art, 
 Creating Toil, and Nature can produce." 
 
 Here ceased the Goddess; and her ardent wings, 
 Dipt in the colours of the heavenly bow, 
 Stood waving radiance round, for sudden flight 
 Prepared, when thus, impatient, burst my prayer: 
 
 " forming light of life ! better sun ! 
 Sun of mankind ! by whom the cloudy North, 
 Sublimed, not envies Languedocian skies, 
 That, unstain'd ether all, diffusive smile: 
 When shall we call these ancient laurels ours ? 
 And when thy work complete?" Straight with her haivl, 
 Celestial red, she touch'd my darkcu'd eyes. 
 As at the touch of day the shades dissolve, 
 So quick, methought, the misty circle clear'd, 
 That dims the dawn of being here below: 
 The future shone disclosed, and, in long view, 
 Bright rising eras instant rush'd to light. 
 
 " They come ! great Goddess ! I the times behold ! 
 The times our fathers, in the bloody field, 
 Have earn'd so dear, and, not with less renown, 
 
THE PROSPECT. 313 
 
 In the warm struggles of the senate fight. 
 The tunes I see ! whose glory to supply, 
 For toiling ages, Commerce round the world 
 Has wing'd unnumber'd sails, and from each land 
 Materials heap'd, that, well employ'd, with Rome 
 Might vie our grandeur, and with Greece our art. 
 
 "Lo! Princes I behold! contriving still, 
 And still conducting firm some brave design; 
 Kings ! that the narrow joyless circle scorn, 
 Burst the blockade of false designing men, 
 Of treacherous smiles, of adulation fell, 
 And of the blinding clouds around them thrown: 
 Their court rejoicing millions; Worth, alone, 
 And Virtue dear to them; their best delight, 
 In just proportion, to give general joy; 
 Their jealous care thy kingdom to maintain; 
 The public glory theirs; unsparing love 
 Their endless treasure; and their deeds their praise. 
 With thee they work. Nought can resist your force: 
 Life feels it quickening in her dark retreats: 
 Strong spread the blooms of Genius, Science, Art; 
 His bashful bounds disclosing Merit breaks; 
 And, big with fruits of glory, Virtue blows 
 Expansive o'er the land. Another race 
 Of generous youth, of patriot sires, I see ! 
 Not those vain insects fluttering in the blaze 
 Of court, and ball, and play; those venal souls, 
 Corruption's veteran unrelenting bands, 
 That, to their vices slaves, can ne'er be free. 
 
 " I see the fountains purged ! whence life derives 
 A clear or turbid flow; see the young mind 
 Not fed impure by .chance, by flattery fool'd, 
 Or by scholastic jargon bloated proud, 
 But fill'd and nourish'd by the light of Truth. 
 Then beam'd through fancy the refining ray, 
 And pouring on the heart, the passions feel 
 At once informing light and moving flame; 
 Till moral, public, graceful action crowns 
 
314 LIBERTY. 
 
 The whole. Behold ! the fair contention glows, 
 In all that mind or body can adorn, 
 And form to life. Instead of barren heads, 
 Barbarian pedants, wrangling sons of pride, 
 And truth-perplexing metaphysic wits, 
 Men, patriots, chiefs, and citizens are form'd. 
 
 " Lo ! Justice, like the liberal light of heaven, 
 Unpurchased shines on all; and from her beam, 
 Appalling guilt, retire the savage crew, 
 That prowl amid the darkness they themselves 
 Have thrown around the laws. Oppression grieves; 
 See ! how her legal furies bite the lip, 
 While Yorkes and Talbots their deep snares detect, 
 And seize swift justice through the clouds they raise 
 
 " See ! social Labour lifts his guarded head, 
 And men not yield to government in vain. 
 From the sure land is rooted ruffian force, 
 And the lewd nurse of villains, idle waste; 
 Lo ! razed their haunts, down dash'd their maddening bowl, 
 A nation's poison ! beauteous order reigns ! 
 Manly submission, unimposing toil, 
 Trade without guile, civility that marks 
 From the foul herd of brutal slaves thy sons, 
 And fearless peace. Or should affronting war 
 To slow but dreadful vengeance rouse the just, 
 Unfailing fields of freemen I behold f 
 That know, with their own proper arm, to guard 
 Their own bless'd isle against a leaguing world. 
 Despairing Gaul her boiling youth restrains, 
 Dissolved her dream of universal sway: 
 The winds and seas are Britain's wide domain; 
 And not a sail, but by permission, spreads. 
 
 " Lo ! swarming southward on rejoicing suns, 
 Gay colonies extend; the calm retreat 
 Of undeserved distress, the better home 
 Of those whom bigots chase from foreign lands. 
 Nor built on rapine, servitude, and wo, 
 And in their turn some petty tyrant's prey; 
 
THE PROSPECT. 315 
 
 But, bound by social Freedom^ firm they rise; 
 
 Such as, of late, an Oglethorpe has form'd, 
 
 And, crowding round, the charni'd Savannah sees. 
 
 " Horrid with want and misery, no more 
 Our streets the tender passenger afflict. 
 Nor shivering age, nor sickness without friend, 
 Or home, or bed to bear his burning load; 
 Nor agonising infant, that ne'er earn'd 
 Its guiltless pangs; I see ! the stores, profuse, 
 Which British bounty has to these assigned, 
 No more the sacrilegious riot swell 
 Of cannibal devourers ! right applied, 
 No starving wretch the land of freedom stains: 
 If poor, employment finds; if old, demands, 
 If sick, if maim'd, his miserable due; 
 And will, if young," repay the fondest care. 
 Sweet sets the sun of stormy life; and sweet 
 The morning shines, in Mercy's dews airay'd. 
 Lo ! how they rise ! these families of Heaven ! 
 That ! chief* (but why, ye bigots ! why so late ?) 
 Where blooms and warbles glad a rising age; 
 What smiles of praise ! and, while their song ascends. 
 The listening seraph lays his lute aside. 
 
 " Ha v k ! the gay Muses raise a nobler strain, 
 With active nature, warm impassion'd truth, 
 Engaging fable, lucid order, notes 
 Of various string, and heartfelt image fill'cL 
 Behold ! I see the dread delightful school 
 Of temper' d passions, and of polish'd life, 
 Restored: behold ! the well-dissembled scene 
 Calls from embellish' d eyes the lovely tear, 
 Or lights up mirth in modest cheeks again. 
 Lo ! vanish'd monster land. Lo ! driven away 
 Those that Apollo's sacred walks profane: 
 Their wild creation scattered, where a world 
 Unknown to nature, Chaos more cpnfused, 
 
 * The Foundling Hospital. 
 
316 LIBERTY. 
 
 O'er the brute scene its Ourang-Outangs pours; 
 Detested forms ! that, on the mind impressed, 
 Corrupt, confound, and barbarise an age. 
 
 " Behold ! all thine again the Sister- Arts, 
 Thy graces they, knit in harmonious dance. 
 Nursed by the treasure from a nation drain'd 
 Their works to purchase, they to nobler rouse 
 Their untamed genius, their unfetter'd thought; 
 Of pompous tyrants, and of dreaming monks, 
 The gaudy tools, and prisoners, no more. 
 
 " Lo ! numerous domes a Burlington confess: 
 For kings and senates fit, the palace see ! 
 The temple breathing a religious awe; 
 E'en framed with elegance the plain retreat, 
 The private dwelling. Certain in his aim, 
 Taste, never idly working, saves expense. 
 
 " See ! sylvan scenes, where Art alone pretends 
 To dress her mistress, and disclose her charms: 
 Such as a Pope in miniature has shown;* 
 A Bathurst o'er the widening forestt spreads; 
 And such as form a Richmond, Chiswick, Stowe. 
 
 " August, around, what public works I see ! 
 Lo ! stately streets; lo ! squares that court the breeze, 
 In spite of those to whom pertains the care, 
 Ingulfing more than founded Roman ways; 
 Lo ! ray'd from cities o'er the brighten'd land, 
 Connecting sea to sea, the solid road. 
 Lo ! the proud arch (no vile exactor's stand) 
 With easy sweep bestrides the chasing flood. 
 See ! long canals, and deepen'd rivers join 
 Each part with each, and with the circling main 
 The whole enliven'd isle. Lo ! ports expand, 
 Free as the winds and waves, their sheltering arms. 
 Lo ! streaming comfort o'er the troubled deep, 
 On every pointed coast the lighthouse towe**^- 
 
 * At his Twickenham Villa, f Okely woods, near Cirencester. 
 
THE PROSPECT. 317 
 
 And, by the broad imperious mole repell'd, 
 Hark ! how the baffled storm indignant roars." 
 As thick to view these varied wonders rose, 
 Shook all my soul with transport, unassured, 
 The Vision broke ; and, on my waking eye, 
 Rush'd the still ruins of dejected Rome. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 THE HAPPY MAN. 
 
 [FIRST PRINTED 1729.] 
 
 HE'S not the happy man, to whom is given 
 
 A plenteous fortune by indulgent Heaven; 
 
 Whose gilded roofs on shining columns rise, 
 
 And painted walls enchant the gazer's eyes: 
 
 Whose table flows with hospitable cheer, 
 
 And all the various bounty of the year; 
 
 Whose valleys smile, whose gardens breathe the spring. 
 
 Whose carved mountains bleat, and forests sing? 
 
 For whom the cooling shade hi summer twines, 
 
 While his full cellars give their generous wines; 
 
 From whose wide fields unbounded autumn pours 
 
 A golden tide into his swelling stores: 
 
 Whose winter laughs; for whom the liberal gales 
 
 Stretch the big sheet, and toiling commerce sails; 
 
 When yielding crowds attend, and pleasure serves; 
 
 While youth, and health, and vigour string his nerves. 
 
 E'en not all these, in one rich lot combined, 
 
 Can make the happy man, without the mind: 
 
 Where judgment sits clear-sighted, and surveys 
 
 The chain of reason with unerring gaze; 
 
 Where fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes, 
 
 His fairer scenes, and bolder figures rise; 
 
 Where social love exerts her soft command, 
 
 And lays the passions with a tender hand, 
 
 Whence every virtue flows, in rival strife, 
 
 And all the moral harmony of life. 
 
 Nor canst thou, Dodington, this truth decline 
 Thine is the fortune, and the mind is thine. 
 
320 
 
 ON BOLUS'S HARP. 
 
 Ethereal race, inhabitants of air, 
 
 Who hymn your God amid the secret grove; 
 Ye unseen beings, to my harp repair, 
 
 And raise majestic strains, or melt in love. 
 Those tender notes, how kindly they upbraid ! 
 
 With what soft wo they thrill the lover's heart ! 
 Sure from the hand of some unhappy maid, 
 
 Who died for love, these sweet complainings part. 
 But hark ! that strain was of a graver tone, 
 
 On the deep strings his hand some hermit throws; 
 Or he, the sacred Bard,* who sat alone 
 
 In the drear waste, and wept his people's woes. 
 
 Such was the song which Zion's children sung, 
 
 When by Euphrates' stream they made their plaint; 
 And to such sadly solemn notes are strung 
 
 Angelic harps, to soothe a dying saint. 
 Methinks I hear the full celestial choir, 
 
 Through heaven's high dome their awful anthem raise 
 Now chanting clear, and now they all conspire 
 
 To swell the lofty hymn from praise to praise. 
 Let me, ye wandering spirits of the wind, 
 
 Who, as wild fancy prompts you, touch the string, 
 Smit with your theme, be in your chorus join'd, 
 
 For, till you cease, my Muse forgets to sing. 
 
 HYMN ON SOLITUDE. 
 
 [FIRST PRINTED 1729.] 
 
 Hail, mildly pleasing Solitude, 
 Companion of the wise and good; 
 But from whose holy, piercing eye, 
 The herd of fools and villains fly. 
 
 * Jeremiah. 
 
IIYMN ON SOLITUDE. 321 
 
 Oh t how I love with thee to walk, 
 And listen to thy whisper'd talk, 
 Which innocence and truth imparts, 
 And melts the most obdurate hearts. 
 
 A thousand shapes you wear with ease, 
 And still in every shape you please. 
 Now wrapt in some mysterious dream, 
 A lone philosopher you seem; 
 Now quick from hill to vale you fly, 
 And now you sweep the vaulted sky; 
 A shepherd next, you haunt the plain, 
 And warble forth your oaten strain. 
 A lover now, with all the grace 
 Of that sweet passion hi your face; 
 Then, calm'd to friendship, you assume 
 The gentle-looking Hertford's bloom. 
 As, with her Musidora, she 
 (Her Musidora fond of thee), 
 Amid the long-withdrawing vale, 
 Awakes the rivall'd nightingale. 
 
 Thine is the balmy breath of morn, 
 Just as the dew-bent rose is born; 
 And while meridian fervours beat, 
 Thine is the woodland dumb retreat; 
 But chief, when evening scenes decay, 
 And the faint landscape swims away, 
 Thine is the doubtful soft decline, 
 And that best hour of musing thine. 
 
 Descending angels bless thy train, 
 The virtues of the sage, and swain; 
 Plain innocence in white arrayed 
 Before thee lifts her fearless head; 
 Religion's beams around thee shine, 
 And cheer thy glooms with light divine: 
 
322 PARAPHRASE ON MATTHEW VI. 
 
 About thee sports sweet Liberty; 
 And rapt Urania sings to thee. 
 
 Oh, let me pierce thy secret cell ! 
 And in thy deep recesses dwell; 
 Perhaps from Norwood's oak-clad hill, 
 When meditation has her fill, 
 I just may cast my careless eyes, 
 Where London's spiry turrets rise, 
 Think of its crimes, its cares, its pain, 
 Then shield me in the woods again. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LATTER PART OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OP 
 ST MATTHEW. 
 
 [FIRST PRINTED 1729.] 
 
 When my breast labours with oppressive care, 
 And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear; 
 While all my warring passions are at strife, 
 0, let me listen to the words of life ! 
 Raptures deep-felt His doctrine did impart, 
 And thus he raised from earth the drooping heart. 
 
 " Think not, when all your scanty stores afford 
 Is spread at once upon the sparing board; 
 Think not, when worn the homely robe appears, 
 While on the roof the howling tempest bears; 
 What further shall this feeble life sustain, 
 And what shall clothe these shivering limbs again 1 
 Say, does not life its nourishment exceed ? 
 And the fair body its investing weed ? 
 
 " Behold ! and look away your low despair 
 See the light tenants of the barren air : 
 
ON THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 323 
 
 To them, nor stores, nor granaries belong, 
 Nought but the woodland and the pleasing song; 
 Yet your kind heavenly Father bends his eye 
 On the least wing that flits along the sky; 
 To Him they sing, when Spring renews the plain, 
 To him they cry, in Winter's pinching reign; 
 Nor is then: music, nor their plaint in vain; 
 He hears the gay and the distressful call, 
 And with unsparing bounty fills them all. 
 " Observe the rising lily's snowy grace, 
 Observe the various vegetable race; 
 They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow, 
 Yet see how warm they blush ! how bright they glow ! 
 What regal vestments can with them compare ? 
 What king so shining? or what queen so fair? 
 If ceaseless thus the fowls of heaven he feeds, 
 If o'er the fields such lucid robes he spreads: 
 Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say ? 
 Is he unwise? or are ye less than they? 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 
 
 Ye fabled Muses, I your aid disclaim, 
 Your airy raptures, and your fancied flame: 
 True genuine wo my throbbing breast inspires 
 Love prompts my lays, and filial duty fires; 
 My soul springs instant at the warm design, 
 And the heart dictates every flowing line. 
 See ! where the kindest, best of mothers lies, 
 And Death has closed her ever watching eyes; 
 Has lodged at last in peace her weary breast, 
 And lull'd her many piercing cares to rest. 
 No more the orphan train around her stands, 
 While her full heart upbraids her needy hands! 
 No more the widow's lonely fate she feels, 
 The shock severe that modest want conceals, 
 
324 ON THE DEATH OP HIS MOTHER. 
 
 The oppressor's scourge, the scorn of wealthy pride, 
 And poverty's unnumber'd ills beside. 
 For see ! attended by the angelic throng, 
 Through yonder worlds of light she glides along, 
 And claims the well-earn'd raptures of the sky: 
 Yet fond concern recalls the mother's eye; 
 She seeks the helpless orphans left behind: 
 So hardly left ! so bitterly resign'd ! 
 Still, still ! is she my soul's diurnal theme, 
 The waking vision, and the wailing dream: 
 Amid the ruddy sun's enlivening blaze 
 O'er my dark eyes her dewy image plays, 
 And hi the dread dominion of the night 
 Shines out again the sadly pleasing sight. 
 Triumphant virtue all around her darts, 
 And more than volumes every look imparts 
 Looks, soft, yet awful; melting, yet serene; 
 Where both the mother and the saint are seen. 
 But ah ! that night that torturing night remains; 
 May darkness dye it with the deepest stains, 
 May joy on it forsake her rosy bowers, 
 And streaming sorrow blast its baleful hours, 
 When on the margin of the briny flood, 
 Chill'd with a sad presaging damp, I stood, 
 Took the last look, ne'er to behold her more, 
 And mix'd our murmurs with the wavy roar; 
 Heard the last words fall from her pious tongue, 
 Then wild into the bulging vessel flung, 
 Which soon, too soon, convey'd me from her sight, 
 Dearer than life, and liberty, and light ! 
 Why was I then, ye powers, reserved for this? 
 Nor sunk that moment in the vast abyss ] 
 Devour'd at once by the relentless wave, 
 And whelm'd for ever in a watery grave ? 
 Down, ye wild wishes of unruly wo ! 
 I see her with immortal beauty glow; 
 The early wrinkle, care-contracted, gone, 
 Her tears all wiped, and all her sorrows flown ; 
 
EPITAPH ON MISS STANLEY. 325 
 
 The exalting voice of Heaven I hear her breathe, 
 To soothe her soul in agonies of death. 
 I see her through the mansions blest above, 
 And now she meets her dear expecting Love. 
 Heart-cheering sight ! but yet, alas ! overspread 
 By the dark gloom of Grief's uncheerful shade. 
 Come then, of reason the reflecting hour, 
 And let me trust the kind o'erruling Power, 
 Who from the right commands the shining day, 
 The poor man's portion, and the orphan's stay. 
 
 EPITAPH ON MISS STANLEY, 
 
 IN HOLYROOD CHURCH, SOUTHAMPTON. 
 
 E. S. 
 
 Once a lively image of human nature, 
 
 Such as God made it 
 When he pronounced every work of his to be good. 
 
 To the memory of Elizabeth Stanley, 
 
 Daughter of George and Sarah Stanley; 
 
 Who to all the beauty, modesty, 
 
 And gentleness of nature, 
 
 That ever adorned the most amiable woman, 
 
 Joined all the fortitude, elevation, 
 
 And vigour of mind, 
 
 That ever exalted the most heroical man; 
 
 Who, having lived the pride and delight of her parents, 
 
 The joy, the consolation, and pattern of her friends, 
 
 A mistress not only of the English and French, 
 
 But hi a high degree of the Greek and Roman learning, 
 
 Without vanity or pedantry, 
 
 At the age of eighteen, 
 
 After a tedious, painful, desperate illness, 
 
 Which, with a Roman spirit, 
 
 And a Christian resignation, 
 
326 EPITAPH ON MISS STAlfLET. 
 
 She endured so calmly, that she seemed insensible 
 To all pain and suffering, except that of her friends, 
 
 Gave up her innocent soul to her Creator, 
 
 And left to her mother, who erected this monument, 
 
 The memory of her virtues for her greatest support; 
 
 Virtues which, in her sex and station of life, 
 
 Were all that could be practised, 
 
 And more than will be believed, 
 
 Except by those who know what this inscription relates. 
 
 Here, Stanley, rest ! escaped this mortal strife, 
 Above the joys, beyond the woes of life, 
 Fierce pangs no more thy lively beauties stain, 
 And sternly try thee with a year of pain; 
 No more sweet patience, feigning oft relief, 
 Lights thy sick eye, to cheat a parent's grief: 
 With tender art to save her anxious groan, 
 No more thy bosom presses down its own: 
 Now well-earn'd peace is thine, and bliss sincere: 
 Ours be the lenient, not unpleasing tear! 
 
 born to bloom, then sink beneath the storm; 
 To show us virtue in her fairest form; 
 To show us artless reason's moral reign, 
 What boastful science arrogates in vain; 
 The obedient passions knowing each their part; 
 Calm light the head, and harmony the heart ! 
 
 Yes, we must follow soon, will glad obey; 
 When a few suns have roll'd their cares away, 
 Tired with vain life, will close the willing eye: 
 'Tis the great birthright of mankind to die. 
 Bless'd be the bark, that wafts us to the shore, 
 Where death-divided friends shall part no more: 
 To join thee there, here with thy dust repose, 
 Is all the hope thy hapless mother knows. 
 
327 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF MR AIRMAN. 
 
 [Mr Aikman was born in Scotland, and was designed for the profession 
 of the law ; but went to Italy, and returned a painter. He was patronised 
 in Scotland by the Duke of Argyle, and afterwards met with encourage- 
 ment to settle in London ; but falling into a long and languishing disease, 
 he died at his house in Leicester Fields, June 1731, aged 50. Boyse wrote 
 a panegyric upon him, and Mallet an epitaph. See " Walpole's Anec- 
 dotes," voL iv. p. 41.] 
 
 Oh, could I draw, my friend, thy genuine mind, 
 Just as the living forms by thee design'd; 
 Of Raphael's figures none should fairer shine, 
 Nor Titian's colours longer last than mine. 
 A mind in wisdom old, in lenience young, 
 From fervent truth where every virtue sprung; 
 Where all was real, modest, plain, sincere; 
 Worth ahove show, and goodness unsevere: 
 Viewed round and round, as lucid diamonds throw 
 Still as you turn them a revolving glow, 
 So did his mind reflect with secret ray, 
 In various virtues, Heaven's internal day; 
 Whether in high discourse it soar'd sublime, 
 And sprung impatient o'er the bounds of Time, 
 Or wandering nature through with raptured eye, 
 Adored the Hand that turn'd yon azure sky: 
 Whether to social life he bent his thought, 
 And the right poise of mingling passions sought, 
 Gay converse bless'd; or in the thoughtful grove 
 Bid the heart open every source of love: 
 New varying lights still set before your eyes 
 The just, the good, the social, or the wise. 
 For such a death who can, who would, refuse 
 The friend a tear, a verse the mournful muse ? 
 Yet pay we just acknowledgment to Heaven, 
 Though snatch'd so soon, that Aikman e'er was given. 
 A friend, when dead, is but removed from sight, 
 Hid hi the lustre of eternal light: 
 
328 WOODEN BRIDGE AT WESTMINSTER. 
 
 Oft with the mind he wonted converse keeps 
 In the lone walk, or when the body sleeps 
 Lets in a wandering ray, and all elate 
 Wings and attracts her to another state; 
 And, when the parting storms of life are o'er, 
 May yet rejoin him in a happier shore. 
 As those we love decay, we die in part, 
 String after string is sever'd from the heart; 
 Till loosen'd life at last but breathing clay 
 Without one pang, is glad to fall away. 
 Unhappy he who latest feels the blow, 
 Whose eyes have wept o'er every friend laid low, 
 Dragg*d lingering on from partial death to death; 
 And dying, all he can resign is breath. 
 
 ON THE REPORT THAT A WOODEN BRIDGE 
 
 WAS TO BE BUILT AT WESTMINSTER. 
 
 By Rufus' hall, where Thames polluted flows, 
 Provoked, the Genius of the river rose, 
 And thus exclaim'd: " Have I, ye British swains. 
 Have I for ages laved your fertile plains ? 
 Given herds, and flocks, and villages increase, 
 And fed a richer than a golden fleece ? 
 Have I, ye merchants, with each swelling tide, 
 Pour*d Afric's treasure in, and India's pride ? 
 Lent you the fruit of every nation's toil ? 
 Made every climate yours, and every soil ? 
 Vet, pilfer'd from the poor, by gaming base, 
 Yet must a wooden bridge my waves disgrace? 
 Tell not to foreign streams the shameful tale, 
 And be it publish'd in no Gallic vale." 
 lie said; and plunging to his crystal dome, 
 While o'er his head the circling waters foam. 
 
329 
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE SOPORIFIC DOCTOR. 
 
 [FIRST PRINTED 1729.] 
 
 Sweet, sleeky Doctor ! dear pacific soul ! 
 I<ay at the beef, and suck the vital bowl ! 
 Still let the involving smoke around thee fly, 
 And broad-look'd dulness settle in thine eye. 
 Ah ! soft in down these dainty limbs repose, 
 And in the very lap of slumber doze; 
 But chiefly on the lazy day of grace, 
 Call forth the lambent glories of thy face; 
 If aught the thoughts of dinner can prevail, 
 And sure the Sunday's dinner cannot fail. 
 To the thin church in sleepy pomp proceed, 
 And lean on the lethargic book thy head. 
 These eyes wipe often with the hallow'd lawn, 
 Profoundly nod, immeasurably yawn. 
 Slow let the prayers by thy meek lips be sung, 
 Now let thy thoughts be distanced by thy tongue; 
 If e'er the lingerers are within a call, 
 Or if on prayers thou deign'st to think at all. 
 Yet only yet the swimming head we bend; 
 But when serene, the pulpit you ascend, 
 Through every joint a gentle horror creeps, 
 And round you the consenting audience sleeps. 
 So when an ass with sluggish front appears, 
 The horses start, and prick their quivering ears; 
 But soon as e'er the sage is heard to bray, 
 The fields all thunder, and they bound away. 
 
 TO SERAPHINA. 
 
 The wanton's charms, however bright, 
 Are like the false illusive light, 
 Whose flattering unauspicious blaze 
 To precipices oft betrays: 
 
330 VERSES ADDRESSED TO AMANDA. 
 
 But that sweet ray your beauties dart, 
 
 Which clears the mind, and cleans the heart, 
 
 Is like the sacred queen of night, 
 
 Who pours a lovely gentle light 
 
 Wide o'er the dark, by wanderers blest, 
 
 Conducting them to peace and rest. 
 
 A vicious love depraves the mind. 
 
 J Tis anguish, guilt, and folly join'd; 
 
 But Seraphina's eyes dispense 
 
 A mild and gracious influence; 
 
 Such as in visions angels shed 
 
 Around the heaven-illumined head. 
 
 To love thee, Seraphina, sure 
 
 Is to be tender, happy, pure; 
 
 'Tis from low passions to escape, 
 
 And woo bright virtue's fairest shape; 
 
 'Tis ecstacy with wisdom join'd; 
 
 And heaven infused into the mind. 
 
 VERSES ADDRESSED TO AMANDA. 
 
 Ah, urged too late ! from beauty's bondage free, 
 
 Why did I trust my liberty with thee? 
 
 And thou, why didst thou, with inhuman heart, 
 
 If not resolved to take, seduce my heart? 
 
 Yes, yes, you said, for lovers' ejes speak true; 
 
 You must have seen how fast my passion grew: 
 
 And, when your glances chanced on me to shine, 
 
 How my fond soul ecstatic sprung to thine ! 
 
 But mark me, fair one what I now declare, 
 
 Thy deep attention claims and serious care: 
 
 It is no common passion fires my breast; 
 
 I must be wretched or I must be blest ! 
 
 My woes all other remedy deny; 
 
 Or, pitying, give me hope, or bid me die ! 
 
VEKSES ADDRESSED TO AMANDA. 331 
 
 TO THE SAME, 
 
 WITH A COPY OP " THE SEASONS." 
 
 Accept, loved Nymph, this tribute due 
 
 To tender friendship, love, and you: 
 
 But with it take what breathed the whole 
 
 take to thine the poet's soul. 
 
 If Fancy here her power displays, 
 
 And if a heart exalts these lays 
 
 You, fairest, in that fancy shine, 
 
 And all that heart is fondly thine. 
 
SONGS. 
 
 A NUPTIAL SONG. 
 
 Come, gentle Venus ! and assuage 
 A warring world, a bleeding age. 
 For nature lives beneath thy ray, 
 The wintry tempests haste away, 
 A lucid calm invests the sea, 
 Thy native deep is full of thee: 
 The flowering earth where'er you fly, 
 Is all o'er spring, all sun the sky. 
 A genial spirit warms the breeze; 
 Unseen among the blooming trees, 
 The feathered lovers tune their throat, 
 The desert growls a soften'd note, 
 Glad o'er the meads the cattle bound, 
 And love and harmony go round. 
 
 But chief into the human heart 
 You strike the dear delicious dart; 
 You teach us pleasing pangs to know, 
 To languish in luxurious wo, 
 To feel the generous passions rise, 
 Grow good by gazing, mild by sighs; 
 Each happy moment to improve, 
 And fill the perfect year with love. 
 
 Come, thou delight of heaven and earth ! 
 To whom all creatures owe their birth; 
 Oh, come, sweet smiling ! tender, come 1 
 And yet prevent our final doom. 
 For long the furious god of war 
 Has crush'd us with his iron cai 
 
SONGS. 333 
 
 Has raged along our ruin'd plains, 
 Has foil'd them with his cruel stains, 
 Has sunk our youth in endless sleep, 
 And made the widow'd virgin weep. 
 Now let him feel thy wonted charms, 
 Oh, take him to thy twining arms! 
 And, while thy bosom heaves on his, 
 While deep he prints the humid kiss, 
 Ah, then ! his stormy heart control, 
 And sigh thyself into his soul. 
 
 TO AMANDA. 
 
 Unless with my Amanda bless'd, 
 In vain I twine the woodbine bower; 
 
 Unless to deck her sweeter breast, 
 In vain I rear the breathing flower. 
 
 Awaken'd by the genial year, 
 In vain the birds around me sing; 
 
 In vain the freshening fields appear: 
 Without my love, there is no Spring. 
 
 TO FORTUNE. 
 
 For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove 
 An unrelenting foe to love, 
 And when we meet a mutual heart, 
 Come in between, and bid us part: 
 
 Bid us sigh on from day to day, 
 And wish, and wish the soul away; 
 Till youth and genial years are flown, 
 And all the love of life is gone 1 
 
 But busy, busy still art thou, 
 To bind the loveless, joyless vow, 
 
334 SONGS. 
 
 The heart from pleasure to delude, 
 And join the gentle to the rude. 
 
 For pomp, and noise, and senseless show, 
 To make us Nature's joys forego, 
 Beneath a gay dominion groan, 
 And put the golden fetter on ! 
 
 For once, Fortune, hear my prayer, 
 And I absolve thy future care; 
 All other blessings I resign, 
 Make but the dear Amanda mine. 
 
 COME, GENTLE GOD. 
 
 Come, gentle God of soft desire, 
 Come and possess my happy breast, 
 
 Not fury-like in flames and fire, 
 Or frantic folly's wildness drest; 
 
 But come in friendship's angel-guise; 
 
 Yet dearer thou than friendship art, 
 More tender spirit in thy eyes, 
 
 More sweet emotions at thy heart. 
 
 0, come with goodness in thy train, 
 With peace and pleasure void of storm; 
 
 And wouldst thou me for ever gain, 
 Put on Amanda's winning form. 
 
 TO HER I LOVE. 
 
 Tell me, thou soul of her I love, 
 Ah ! tell me, whither art thou fled; 
 
 To what delightful world above, 
 Appointed for the happy dead? 
 
 
SONGS. 335 
 
 Or dost thou, free, at pleasure roam, 
 And sometimes share thy lover's wo; 
 
 Where, void of thee, his cheerless home 
 Can now, alas ! no comfort know ! 
 
 Oh ! if thou hover*st round my walk, 
 While, under every well-known tree, 
 
 I to thy fancied shadow talk, 
 And every tear is full of thee: 
 
 Should then the weary eye of grief, 
 
 Beside some sympathetic stream, 
 In slumber find a short relief, 
 
 Oh, visit thou my soothing dream ! 
 
 TO THE GOD OF FOND DESIRE. 
 
 One day the God of fond desire, 
 On mischief bent, to Damon said, 
 
 " Why not disclose your tender fire, 
 Not own it to the lovely maid!" 
 
 The shepherd mark'd his treacherous art, 
 And, softly sighing, thus replied: 
 
 "'Tis true, you have subdued my heart, 
 But shall not triumph o'er my pride. 
 
 The slave, in private only bears 
 Your bondage, who his love conceals; 
 
 But when his passion he declares, 
 You drag him at your chariot-wheels." 
 
 THE LOVER'S FATE. 
 
 Hard is the fate of him who loves, 
 Yet dares not tell his trembling pain, 
 
 But to the sympathetic groves, 
 But to the lonely listening plain, 
 
336 SONGS. 
 
 Oh ! when she blesses next your shade, 
 Oh ! when her footsteps next are seen 
 
 In flowery tracts along the mead, 
 In fresher mazes o'er the green: 
 
 Ye gentle spirits of the vale, 
 
 To whom the tears of love are dear, 
 
 From dying lilies waft a gale, 
 And sigh my sorrows in her ear. 
 
 Oh ! tell her what she cannot blame, 
 Though fear my tongue must ever bind : 
 
 Oh, tell her, that my virtuous flame 
 Is, as her spotless soul, refined. 
 
 Not her own guardian-angel eyes 
 With chaster tenderness his care, 
 
 Not purer her own wishes rise, 
 Not holier her own sighs in prayer. 
 
 But if at first her virgin fear 
 
 Should start at love's suspected name, 
 
 With that of friendship soothe her ear 
 True love and friendship are the same. 
 
 TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 nightingale, best poet of the grove, 
 
 That plaintive strain can ne'er belong to thee, 
 Bless'd in the full possession of thy love: 
 
 lend that strain, sweet Nightingale, to me ! 
 
 'Tis mine, alas ! to mourn my wretched fate: 
 
 1 love a maid who all my bosom charms, 
 Yet lose my days without this lovely mate; 
 
 Inhuman fortune keeps her from my arms. 
 
 You, happy birds ! by nature's simple laws 
 Lead your soft lives, sustain'd by nature's fare; 
 
SONGS FROM ALFRED. 337 
 
 You dwell wherever roving fancy draws, 
 And love and song is all your pleasing care: 
 
 But we, vain slaves of interest and of pride, 
 Dare not be bless' d, lest envious tongues should blame: 
 
 And hence, in vain, I languish for my bride ! 
 mourn with me, sweet bird, my hapless flame. 
 
 TO MYRA. 
 
 thou, whose tender serious eyes 
 Expressive speak the mind I love; 
 
 The gentle azure of the skies, 
 The pensive shadows of the grove: 
 
 mix their beauteous beams with mine, 
 And let us interchange our hearts; 
 
 Let all their sweetness on me shine; 
 
 Pou/d through my soul be all their darts. 
 
 Ah ! 'tis too much ! I cannot bear 
 
 At once so soft, so keen a ray: 
 In pity then, my lovely fair, 
 
 turn those killing eyes away ! 
 
 But what avails it to conceal 
 
 One charm, where nought but charms I see ] 
 Their lustre then again reveal, 
 
 And let me, Myra, die of thee ! 
 
 SONGS IN THE MASQUE OF "ALFEED,"* 
 
 TO PEACE. 
 
 peace ! the fairest child of Heaven, 
 To whom the sylvan reign was given, 
 
 * The Masque of Alfred was the joint composition of Thomson 
 and Mallet; hence the authorship of the following songs is some- 
 what doubtful. 
 
338 SONGS PROM ALFRED. 
 
 The vale, the fountain, and the grove, 
 
 With every softer scene of love: 
 Return, sweet Peace ! and cheer the weeping swain 1 
 Return, with Ease and Pleasure in thy train. 
 
 TO ALFRED. 
 
 FIRST SPIRIT. 
 
 Hear, Alfred, father of the state, 
 Thy genius Heaven's high will declare ! 
 
 What proves the hero truly great, 
 Is never, never to despair: 
 Is never to despair. 
 
 SECOND SPIRIT. 
 
 Thy hope awake, thy heart expand, 
 With all its vigour, all its fires. 
 
 Arise ! and save a sinking land ! 
 
 Thy country calls, and Heaven inspires, 
 
 BOTH SPIRITS. 
 
 Earth calls, and Heaven inspires. 
 
 "SWEET VALLEY, SAY." 
 
 Sweet valley, say, where, pensive lying, 
 For me, our children, England, sighing, 
 
 The best of mortals leans his head. 
 Ye fountains, dimpled by my sorrow, 
 Ye brooks that my complainings borrow, 
 lead me to his lonely bed: 
 Or if my lover, 
 Deep woods, you cover, 
 Ah whisper where your shadows o'er him spread. 
 
SONGS PROM ALFRED. 339 
 
 'Tis not the loss of pomp and pleasure, 
 Of empire or of tinsel treasure, 
 
 That drops this tear, that swells this groan: 
 No; from a nobler cause proceeding, 
 A heart with love and fondness bleeding, 
 I breathe my sadly pleasing moan, 
 With other anguish, 
 I scorn to languish, 
 For love will feel no sorrows but his own. 
 
 "FROM THOSE ETERNAL REGIONS." 
 
 From those eternal regions bright, 
 Where suns, that never set in night, 
 
 Diffuse the golden day: 
 Where Spring, unfading, pours around, 
 O'er all the dew-impearl'd ground, 
 
 Her thousand colours gay: 
 whether on the fountain's flowery side, 
 
 Whence living waters glide, 
 
 Or in the fragrant grove, 
 Whose shade embosoms peace and love, 
 New pleasures all our hours employ, 
 And ravish every sense with every joy ! 
 
 Great heirs of empire ! yet unborn, 
 
 Who shall this island late adorn; 
 A monarch's drooping thought to cheer, 
 
 Appear! appear! appear! 
 
 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 If those who live in shepherd's bower, 
 Press not the rich and stately bed; 
 
 The new-mown hay and breathing flower 
 A softer couch beneath them spread. 
 
340 SONGS FROM ALFRED. 
 
 If those who sit at shepherd's board, 
 Soothe not their taste by wanton art; 
 
 They take what Nature's gift afford, 
 And take it with a cheerful heart. 
 
 If those who drain the shepherd's bowl, 
 No high and sparkling wines can boast; 
 
 With wholesome cups they cheer the soul, 
 And crown them with the village toast. 
 
 If those who join in shepherd's sport, 
 Gay dancing on the daisied ground, 
 
 Have not the splendour of a court: 
 Yet love adorns the merry round. 
 
 RULE, BRITANNIA! 
 
 WITH VARIATIONS. 
 
 When Britain first, at Heaven's command, 
 
 Arose from out the azure main, 
 This was the charter of the land, 
 And guardian angels sung this strain: 
 " Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; 
 Britons never will be slaves." 
 
 The nations not so bless'd as thee 
 Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall; 
 
 While thou shalt flourish great and free, 
 The dread and envy of them all. 
 "Rule,"&c. 
 
 Still more majestic shalt thou rise, 
 More dreadful from each foreign stroke; 
 
 As the loud blast that tears the skies 
 Serves but to root thy native oak. 
 " Rule," &c. 
 
 Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: 
 All their attempts to bend thee down 
 
PROLOGUE TO TANCRED AND SIGISMUNDA. 341 
 
 Will but arouse thy generous flame, 
 But work their wo, and thy renown. 
 "Rule,"&c. 
 
 To thee belongs the rural reign; 
 
 Thy cities shall with commerce shine: 
 All thine shall be the subject main: 
 
 And every shore it circles thine. 
 " Rule," &c. 
 
 The Muses, still with freedom found, 
 
 Shall to thy happy coast repair: 
 Bless'd isle ! with matchless beauty crown'd, 
 And manly hearts to guard the fair: 
 " Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; 
 Britons never will be slaves." 
 
 PROLOGUE TO TANCRED AND SIGISMUNDA. 
 
 Bold is the man ! who, in this nicer age, 
 Presumes to tread the chaste corrected stage. 
 Now, with gay tinsel arts, we can no more 
 Conceal the want of Nature's sterling ore. 
 Our spells are vanished, broke our magic wand, 
 That used to waft you over sea and land. 
 Before your light the fairy people fade, 
 The demons fly the ghost itself is laid. 
 In vain of martial scenes the loud alarms, 
 The mighty prompter thundering out, to arms, 
 The playhouse posse clattering from afar, 
 The close- wedged battle, and the din of war. 
 Now, e'en the senate seldom we convene: 
 The yawning fathers nod behind the scene. 
 Your taste rejects the glittering false sublime, 
 To sigh in metaphor, and die in rhyme. 
 High rant is tumbled from his gallery throne: 
 Description dreams nay, similes are gone. 
 
342 EPILOGUE TO TANCRED AND SIGISMUNDA. 
 
 What shall we then ? to please you how devise, 
 Whose judgment sits not in your ears and eyes? 
 Thrice happy ! could we catch great Shakspere's art, 
 To trace the deep recesses of the heart; 
 His simple plain sublime, to which is given 
 To strike the soul with darted flame from heaven; 
 Could we awake soft Otway's tender wo, 
 The pomp of verse and golden lines of Rowe. 
 
 We to your hearts apply; let them attend; 
 Before their silent candid bar we bend. 
 If warm'd, they listen, 'tis our noblest praise; 
 If cold, they wither all the Muse's bays. 
 
 EPILOGUE TO TANCRED AND SIGISMUNDA. 
 
 Cramm'd to the throat with wholesome moral stuff, 
 
 Alas ! poor audience ! you have had enough. 
 
 Was ever hapless heroine of a play 
 
 In such a piteous plight as ours to-day ] 
 
 Was ever woman so by love betra/d 1 
 
 Match'd with two husbands, and yet die a maid. 
 
 But bless me ! hold What sounds are these I hear ! 
 
 I see the Tragic Muse herself appear. 
 
 [The back scene opens, and discovers a romantic sylvan land- 
 scape; from which Mrs Gibber, in the character of the 
 Tragic Muse, advances slowly to music, and speaks the 
 following lines: 
 
 Hence with your flippant epilogue, that tries 
 To wipe the virtuous tear from British eyes: 
 That dares my moral, tragic scene profane, 
 With strains at best, unsuiting, light and vain. 
 Hence from the pure unsullied beams that play 
 In yon fair eyes where virtue shines Away ! 
 
 Britons, to you from chaste Castalian groves, 
 Where dwell the tender, oft unhappy loves 1 
 
EPILOGUE TO AGAMEMNON. 343 
 
 Where shades of heroes roam, each mighty name, 
 And court my aid to rise again to fame; 
 To you I come, to Freedom's noblest seat, 
 And in Britannia fix my last retreat. 
 
 In Greece and Rome, I watch'd the public weal, 
 The purple tyrant trembled at my steel: 
 Nor did I less o'er private sorrows reign, 
 And mend the melting heart with softer pain. 
 On France and you then rose my brightening star, 
 With social ray The arts are ne'er at war. 
 0, as your fire and genius stronger blaze, 
 As yours are generous Freedom's bolder lays, 
 Let not the Gallic taste leave yours behind, 
 In decent manners and in life refined; 
 Banish the motley mode to tag low verse, 
 The laughing ballad to the mournful hearse. 
 When through five acts your hearts have learnt to glow, 
 Touch'd with the sacred force of honest wo; 
 keep the dear impression on your breast, 
 Nor idly lose it for a wretched jest. 
 
 EPILOGUE TO AGAMEMNON. 
 
 Our bard, to modern epilogue a foe, 
 
 Thinks such mean mirth but deadens generous wo; 
 
 Dispels in idle air the moral sigh, 
 
 And wipes the tender tear from Pity's eye: 
 
 No more with social warmth the bosom burns; 
 
 But all the unfeeling selfish man returns. 
 
 Thus he began: And you approved the strain; 
 Till the next couplet sunk to light and vain. 
 You check'd him there. To you, to reason just, 
 He owns he triumph'd in your kind disgust. 
 Charm'd by your frown, by your displeasure graced, 
 He hails the rising virtue of your taste 
 
344 PROLOGUE TO MUSTAPHA. 
 
 Wide will its influence spread as soon as known: 
 
 Truth, to be loved, needs only to be shown: 
 
 Confirm it, once, the fashion to be good 
 
 (Since fashion leads the fool, and awes the rude): 
 
 No petulance shall wound the public ear; 
 
 No hand applaud what honour shuns to hear; 
 
 No painful blush the modest cheek shall stain; 
 
 The worthy breast shall heave with no disdain. 
 
 Chastised to decency, the British stage 
 
 Shall oft invite the fair, invite the sage: 
 
 Both shall attend well pleased, well pleased depart; 
 
 Or, if they doom the verse, absolve the heart. 
 
 PROLOGUE TO MALLET'S MUSTAPHA. 
 
 Since Athens first began to draw mankind, 
 
 To picture life, and show the impassion'd mind, 
 
 The truly wise have ever deem'd the stage 
 
 The moral school of each enlightened age. 
 
 There, in full pomp, the Tragic Muse appears. 
 
 Queen of soft sorrows, and of useful fears. 
 
 Faint is the lesson reason's rules impart: 
 
 She pours it strong, and instant through the heart. 
 
 If virtue is her theme, we sudden glow 
 
 With generous flame; and what we feel, we grow. 
 
 If vice she paints, indignant passions rise; 
 
 The villain sees himself with loathing eyes. 
 
 His soul starts, conscious, at another's groan, 
 
 And the pale tyrant trembles on his throne. 
 
 To-night, our meaning scene attempts to show 
 What fell events from dark suspicion flow; 
 Chief when it taints a lawless monarch's mind, 
 To the false herd of flattering slaves confined, 
 The soul sinks gradual to so dire a state; 
 E'en excellence but serves to feed its hate; 
 
TO THE REV. PATRICK MURDOCH. 345 
 
 To hate remorseless cruelty succeeds, 
 And every worth, and every virtue bleeds. 
 Behold, our author at your bar appears, 
 His modest hopes depress' d by conscious fears. 
 Faults he has many but to balance those, 
 His verse with heartfelt love of virtue glows: 
 All slighter errors let indulgence spare, 
 And be his equal trial full and fair. 
 For this best British privilege we call, 
 Then, as he merits, let him stand or fall. 
 
 TO THE REVEREND PATRICK MURDOCH, 
 
 RECTOR OP STRADISHALL, IN SUFFOLK. 1738. 
 
 Thus safely low, my friend, thou canst not fall: 
 Here reigns a deep tranquillity o'er all: 
 No noise, no care, no vanity, no strife; 
 Men, woods, and fields, all breathe untroubled life. 
 Then keep each passion down, however dear; 
 Trust me, the tender are the most severe. 
 Guard, while 'tis thine, thy philosophic ease, 
 And ask no joy but that of virtuous peace; 
 That bids defiance to the storms of fate- 
 High bliss is only for a higher state ! 
 
 TO 
 HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 While secret-leaguing nations frown around, 
 Ready to pour the long-expected storm; 
 
 While she, who wont the restless Gaul to bound, 
 Britannia, drooping, grows an empty form; 
 
 While on our vitals selfish parties prey, 
 
 And deep corruption eats our soul away: 
 
346 TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 
 
 Yet in the Goddess of the main appears 
 A gleam of joy, gay-flushing every grace, 
 
 As she the cordial voice of millions hears, 
 Rejoicing, zealous, o'er thy rising race: 
 
 Straight her rekindling eyes resume then* fire, 
 
 The Virtues smile, the Muses tune the lyre. 
 
 But more enchanting than the Muses' song, 
 
 United Britons thy dear offspring hail: 
 The city triumphs through her glowing throng, 
 
 The shepherd tells his transport to the dale; 
 The sons of roughest toil forget then: pain, 
 And the glad sailor cheers the midnight mam. 
 
 Can aught from fair Augusta's gentle blood, 
 And thine, thou friend of Liberty ! be born: 
 
 Can aught save what is lovely, generous, good; 
 What will at once defend us, and adorn ? 
 
 From thence prophetic joy new Edwards eyes, 
 
 New Henries, Annas, and Elizas rise. 
 
 May fate my fond devoted days extend, 
 To sing the promised glories of thy reign ! 
 
 What though, by years depress'd, my Muse might bend; 
 My heart will teach her still a nobler strain: 
 
 How, with rccover'd Britain, will she soar, 
 
 When France insults, and Spain shall rob no more. 
 
 TO THB 
 
 MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HON. LORD TALBOT, 
 
 LATE CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN, 
 
 Addressed to his Son. 
 [FIRST PRINTED IN 1737.] 
 
 While with the public, you, my lord, lament 
 A friend and father lost, permit the Muse 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 347 
 
 The Muse assign'd of old a double, theme 
 
 To praise dead worth and humble living pride, 
 
 Whose generous task begins where interest ends; 
 
 Permit her on a Talbot's tomb to lay 
 
 This cordial verse sincere, by truth inspired, 
 
 Which means not to bestow but borrow fame. 
 
 Yes, she may sing his matchless virtues now 
 
 Unhappy that she may. But where begin 1 
 
 How from the diamond single out each ray, 
 
 Where all, though trembling with ten thousand hues, 
 
 Effuse one dazzling undivided light 1 
 
 Let the low-minded of these narrow days 
 No more presume to deem the lofty tale 
 Of ancient times, in pity to their own, 
 Romance. In Talbot we united saw 
 The piercing eye, the quick enlighten'd soul, 
 The graceful ease, the flowing tongue of Greece, 
 Join'd to the virtues and the force of Rome. 
 
 Eternal Wisdom, that all-quickening sun, 
 Whence every life, hi just proportion, draws 
 Directing life and actuating flame, 
 Ne'er with a larger portion of its beams 
 Awaken'd mortal clay. Hence steady, calm. 
 Diffusive, deep, and clear, his reason saw, 
 With instantaneous view, the truth of things; 
 Chief what to human life and human bliss 
 Pertains, that noblest science, fit for man: 
 And hence, responsive to his knowledge, glow'd 
 His ardent virtue. Ignorance and vice, 
 In consort foul, agree; each heightening each; 
 While virtue draws from knowledge brighter fire. 
 
 What grand, what comely, or what tender sense, 
 What talent, or what virtue was not his ] 
 What that can render man or great, or good, 
 Give useful worth, or amiable grace 1 
 Nor could he brook in studious shade to lie, 
 In soft retirement, indolently pleased 
 With selfish peace. The Syren of the wise 
 2A 
 
348 TO THE MEMORY OP LORD TALBOT. 
 
 (Who steals the Aoniau song, and, in the shape 
 Of Virtue, woos them from a worthless world), 
 Though deep he felt her charms, could never melt 
 His strenuous spirit, recollected, calm, 
 As silent night, yet active as the day. 
 The more the bold, the bustling, and the bad, 
 Press to usurp the reins of power, the more 
 Behoves it virtue, with indignant zeal, 
 To check their combination. Shall low views 
 Of sneaking interest or luxurious vice, 
 The villain's passions quicken more to toil, 
 And dart a livelier vigour through the soul, 
 Than those that mingled with our truest good, 
 "With present honour and immortal fame, 
 Involve the good of all ? An empty form 
 Is the weak Virtue, that amid the shade 
 Lamenting lies, with future schemes amused, 
 While Wickedness and Folly, kindred powers, 
 Confound the world. A Talbot's, different far. 
 Sprung ardent into action: action, that disdain'd 
 To lose in death-like sloth one pulse of life 
 That might be saved; disdain'd for coward ease. 
 And her insipid pleasures, to resign 
 The prize of glory, the keen sweets of toil, 
 And those high joys that teach the truly great 
 To live for others, and for others die. 
 
 Early, behold ! he breaks benign on life. 
 Not breathing more beneficence, the spring 
 Leads in her swelling train the gentle airs: 
 While gay, behind her, smiles the kindling waste 
 Of ruffian storms and Winter's lawless rage. 
 In him Aslrea, to this dim abode 
 Of ever wandering men, returned again: 
 To bless them his delight, to bring them back 
 From thorny error, from unjoyous wrong, 
 Into the paths of kind primeval faith, 
 Of happiness and justice. All his parts, 
 His virtues all, collected, sought the good 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF LOKD TALBOT. 349 
 
 Of human-kind. For that he, fervent, felt 
 The throb of patriots, when they model states: 
 Anxious for that, nor needful sleep could hold 
 His still-awaken'd soul; nor friends had charms 
 To steal, with pleasing guile, one useful hour; 
 Toil knew no languor, no attraction joy. 
 Thus with unwearied steps, by Virtue led, 
 He gain'd the summit of that sacred hill, 
 Where, raised above black Envy's darkening clouds, 
 Her spotless temple lifts its radiant front. 
 Be named, victorious ravagers, no more ! 
 Vanish, ye human comets ! shrink your blaze ! 
 Ye that your glory to your terrors owe, 
 As, o'er the gazing desolated earth, 
 You scatter famine, pestilence, and war; 
 Vanish ! before this vernal sun of fame; 
 Effulgent sweetness ! beaming life and joy. 
 
 How the heart listen'd while he, pleading, spoke ! 
 While on the enlighten'd mind, with winning art, 
 His gentle reason so persuasive stole, 
 That the charm'd hearer thought it was his own. 
 Ah ! when, ye studious of the laws, again 
 Shall such enchanting lessons bless your ear ! 
 When shall again the darkest truths, perplex'd, 
 Be set in ample day ! when shall the harsh 
 And arduous open into smiling ease ? 
 The solid mix with elegant delight ? 
 His was the talent with the purest light 
 At once to pour conviction on the soul, 
 And warm with lawful flame the impassion'd heart. 
 That dangerous gift with him was safely lodged 
 By Heaven He, sacred to his country's cause, 
 To trampled want and worth, to suffering right, 
 To the lone widow's and her orphan's woes, 
 Reserved the mighty charm. With equal brow, 
 Despising then the smiles or frowns of power, 
 He all that noblest eloquence effused, 
 Which generous passion, taught by reason, breathes: 
 
350 TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 
 
 Then spoke the man; and over barren art, 
 PrevaiTd abundant nature. Freedom then 
 His client was, humanity and truth. 
 
 Placed on the seat of justice, there he reign' d, 
 In a superior sphere of cloudless day, 
 A pure intelligence. No tumult there, 
 No dark emotion, no intemperate heat, 
 No passion ere disturb'd the clear serene 
 That round him spread. A zeal for right alone, 
 The love of justice, like the steady sun, 
 Its equal ardour lent; and sometimes raised 
 Against the sons of violence, of pride, 
 And bold deceit, his indignation gleain'd, 
 Yet still by sober dignity restrained 
 As intuition quick, he snatch'd the truth, 
 Yet with progressive patience, step by step, 
 Self-diffident, or to the slower kind, 
 He through the maze of falsehood traced it on, 
 Till, at the last, evolved, it full appeared, 
 And e'en the loser own'd the just decree. 
 
 But when, in senates, he, to freedom firm, 
 Enlighten'd Freedom, plann'd salubrious laws, 
 His various learning, his wide knowledge, then, 
 His insight deep into Britannia's weal, 
 Spontaneous seern'd from simple sense to flow, 
 And the plain patriot smoothed the brow of law. 
 To specious swell, no frothy pomp of words 
 Fell on the cheated ear; no studied maze 
 Of declamation, to perplex the right, 
 He darkening threw around: safe in itself, 
 In its own force, all-powerful Reason spoke; 
 While on the great, the ruling point, at once, 
 He stream'd decisive day, and show'd it vain 
 To lengthen further out the clear debate. 
 Conviction breathes conviction; to the heart, 
 Pour'd ardent forth in eloquence unbid, 
 The heart attends: for let the venal try 
 Their every hardening stupifying art 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 351 
 
 Truth must prevail, zeal will enkindle zeal, 
 And Nature, skilful touch'd, is honest still. 
 
 Behold him in the councils of his prince. 
 What faithful light he lends ! How rare, in courts, 
 Such wisdom ! such abilities ! and join'd 
 To virtue so determined, public zeal, 
 And honour of such adamantine proof, 
 As e'en corruption, hopeless, and o'erawed, 
 Durst not have tempted ! yet of manners mild, 
 And winning every heart, he knew to please, 
 Nobly to please; while equally he scorn'd 
 Or adulation to receive, or give. 
 Happy the state, where wakes a ruling eye 
 Of such inspection keen, and general care I 
 Beneath a guard o vigilant, so pure, 
 Toil may resign his careless head to rest, 
 And ever jealous freedom sleep in peace. 
 Ah ! lost untimely ! lost in downward days ! 
 And many a patriot council with him lost ! 
 Counsels, that might have humbled Britain's toe, 
 Her native foe, from eldest time by fate 
 Appointed, as did once a Talbot's arms. 
 
 Let learning, arts, let universal worth, 
 Lament a patron lost, a friend and judge, 
 Unlike the sons of vanity, that veil'd 
 Beneath the patron's prostituted name, 
 Dare sacrifice a worthy man to pride, 
 And flush confusion o'er an honest cheek. 
 When he conferred a grace, it seem'd a debt 
 Which he to merit, to the public, paid, 
 And to the great all-bounteous Source of good ! 
 His sympathising heart itself received 
 The generous obligation he bestow'd. 
 This, this indeed, is patronising worth. 
 Their kind protector him the Muses own, 
 But scorn with noble pride the boasted aid 
 Of tasteless vanity's insulting hand. 
 The gracious stream, that cheers the letter' d world, 
 
352 TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 
 
 Is not the noisy gift of summer's noon, 
 Whose sudden current, from the naked root, 
 Washes the little soil which yet remain'd, 
 And only more dejects the blushing flowers: 
 No, 'tis the soft-descending dews at eve, 
 The silent treasures of the vernal year, 
 Indulging deep their stores, the still night long; 
 Till, with returning morn, the freshen'd world, 
 Is fragrance all, all beauty, joy, and song. 
 
 Still let me view him in the pleasing light 
 Of private life, where pomp forgets to glare, 
 And where the plain unguarded soul is seen. 
 There, with that truest greatness he appear'd, 
 Which thinks not of appearing; kindly veil'd 
 In the soft graces of the friendly scene, 
 Inspiring social confidence and ease. 
 As free the converse of the wise and good, 
 As joyous, disentangling every power, 
 And breathing mix'd improvement with delight, 
 As when amid the various-blossomed spring, 
 Or gentle beaming autumn's pensive shade. 
 The philosophic mind with nature talks. 
 Say ye, his sons, his dear remains, with whom 
 The father laid superfluous state aside, 
 Yet raised your filial duty thence the more, 
 With friendship raised it, with esteem, with love, 
 Beyond the ties of love, oh ! speak the joy, 
 The pure serene, the cheerful wisdom mild, 
 The virtuous spirit, which his vacant hours, 
 In semblance of amusement, through the breast 
 Infused. And thou, Rundle !* lend thy strain, 
 Thou darling friend ! thou brother of his soul ! 
 In whom the head and heart their stores unite: 
 Whatever fancy paints, invention pours, 
 Judgment digests, the well-tuned bosom feels, 
 Truth natural, moral, or divine, has taught, 
 
 * Dr Bundle, bishop uf Derry in Ireland. 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 353 
 
 The Virtues dictate, or the Muses sing. 
 Lend me the plaint, which to the lonely main, 
 With memory conversing, you will pour, 
 As on the pebbled shore you, pensive, stray, 
 Where Derry's mountains a bleak crescent form, 
 And 'mid their ample round receive the waves, 
 That from the frozen pole, resounding, rush, 
 Impetuous. Though from native sunshine driven, 
 Driven from your friends, the sunshine of the soul, 
 By slanderous zeal, and politics infirm, 
 Jealous of worth ; yet will you bless your lot, 
 Yet will you triumph in your glorious fate, 
 Whence Talbot's friendship glows to future times, 
 Intrepid, warm; of kindred tempers born; 
 Nursed, by experience, into slow esteem, 
 Calm confidence unbounded, love not blind, 
 And the sweet light from mingled minds disclosed, 
 From mingled chymic oils as bursts the fire. 
 
 I too remember well that cheerful bowl, 
 Which round his table flow'd. The serious there 
 Mix'd with the sportive, with the learn'd the plain; 
 Mirth soften'd wisdom, candour temper'd mirth; 
 And wit its honey lent, without the sting. 
 Not simple nature's unaffected sons, 
 The blameless Indians, round their forest-cheer, 
 In sunny lawn or shady covert set, 
 Hold more unspotted converse; nor, of old, 
 Rome's awful consuls, her dictator swains, 
 As on the product of their Sabine farms 
 They fared, with stricter virtue fed the soul; 
 Nor yet in Athens, at an Attic meal, 
 Where Socrates presided, fairer truth, 
 More elegant humanity, more grace, 
 Wit more refined, or deeper science reign'd. 
 
 But far beyond the little vulgar bounds 
 Of family, or friends, or native land, 
 By just degrees, and with proportion'd flame, 
 Extended his benevolence: a friend 
 
354 TO THE MEMORY OF LORD TALBOT. 
 
 To human-kind, to parent nature's works. 
 
 Of free access, and of engaging grace, 
 
 Such as a brother to a brother owes, 
 
 He kept an open judging ear for all, 
 
 And spread an open countenance, where smiled 
 
 The fair effulgence of an open heart; 
 
 While on the rich, the poor, the high, the low, 
 
 With equal ray, his ready goodness shone: 
 
 For nothing human foreign was to him. 
 
 Thus to a dread inheritance, my lord, 
 And hard to be supported, you succeed: 
 But, kept by virtue, as by virtue gain'd, 
 It will, through latest time, enrich your race, 
 When grosser wealth shall moulder into dust, 
 And with their authors in oblivion sunk 
 Vain titles lie, the servile badges oft 
 Of mean submission, not the meed of worth. 
 True genuine honour its large patent holds 
 Of all mankind, through every land and age, 
 Of universal reason's various sons, 
 And e'en of God himself, sole perfect Judge ! 
 Yet know these noblest honours of the mind 
 On rigid terms descend: the high-placed heir, 
 Scann'd by the public eye, that, with keen gaze, 
 Malignant seeks out faults, cannot through life, 
 Amid the nameless insects of a court, 
 Unheeded steal: but, with his sure compared, 
 He must be glorious, or he must be scorn'd. 
 This truth to you, who merit well to bear 
 A name to Britons dear, the officious Muse 
 May safely sing, and sing without reserve. 
 
 Vain were the plaint, and ignorant the tear, 
 That should a Talbot mourn. Ourselves, indeed, 
 Our country robb'd of her delight and strength, 
 We may lament. Yet let us, grateful, joy 
 That we such virtues knew, such virtues felt, 
 And feel them still, teaching our views to rise 
 Through ever brightening scenes of future worlds. 
 
TO THE MEMORY OP LORD TALBOT. 355 
 
 Be dumb, ye worst of zealots ! ye that, prone 
 To thoughtless dust, renounce that generous hope, 
 Whence every joy below its spirit draws, 
 And every pain its balm: a Talbot's light, 
 A Talbot's virtues claim another source 
 Than the blind maze of undesigning blood; 
 Nor when that vital fountain plays no more, 
 Can they be quench'd amid the gelid stream. 
 
 Methinks I see his mounting spirit, freed 
 From tangling earth, regain the realms of day, 
 Its native country: whence to bless mankind, 
 Eternal Goodness on this darksome spot 
 Had ra/d it down awhile. Behold ! approved 
 By the tremendous Judge of heaven and earth, 
 And to the Almighty Father's presence join'd, 
 He takes his rank, in glory, and in bliss, 
 Amid the human worthies. Glad around 
 Crowd his compatriot shades, and point him out, 
 With joyful pride, Britannia's blameless boast. 
 Ah ! who is he, that with a fonder eye 
 Meets thine enraptured 1 'Tis the best of sons ! 
 
 The best of friends ! Too soon is realised 
 
 That hope, which once forbade thy tears to flow ! 
 
 Meanwhile the kindred souls of every land 
 
 (Howe'er divided in the fretful days 
 
 Of prejudice and error), mingled now, 
 
 In one selected never-jarring state, 
 
 Where God himself their only monarch reigns, 
 
 Partake the joy; yet, such the sense that still 
 
 Remains of earthly woes, for us below, 
 
 And for our loss, they drop a pitying tear. 
 
 But cease, presumptuous Muse, nor vainly strive 
 
 To quit this cloudy sphere, that binds thee down: 
 
 'Tis not for mortal hand to trace these scenes 
 
 Scenes, that our gross ideas grovelling cast 
 
 Behind, and strike our boldest language dumb. 
 
 Forgive, immortal shade ! if aught from earth, 
 From dust low warbled, to those groves can rise, 
 
3f>6 TO TUB MEMORY OP SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 Where flows celestial harmony, forgive 
 
 Tliis fond superfluous verse. With deep-felt voice, 
 
 On every heart impress' d, thy deeds themselves 
 
 Attest thy praise. Thy praise the widow's sighs, 
 
 And orphan's tears embalm. The good, the bad, 
 
 The sons of justice and the sons of strife, 
 
 All who or freedom or who interest prize, 
 
 A deep-divided nation's parties all, 
 
 Conspire to swell thy spotless praise to Heaven. 
 
 Glad Heaven receives it, and seraphic lyres 
 
 With songs of triumph thy arrival hail 
 
 How vain this tribute then ! this lowly lay ! 
 
 Yet nought is vain that gratitude inspires. 
 
 The Muse, besides, her duty thus approves 
 
 To virtue, to her country, to mankind, 
 
 To ruling nature, that, in glorious charge, 
 
 As to her priestess, gives it her to hymn 
 
 ^'hatever good and excellent she forms. 
 
 TO THE 
 MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE' BIGHT HON. SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 
 
 [FIRST PRINTED 1727.] 
 
 Shall the great soul of Newton quit this earth, 
 
 To mingle with his stars; and every Muse, 
 
 Astonish'd into silence, shun the weight 
 
 Of honours due to his illustrious name ? 
 
 But what can man ? E'en now the sons of light, 
 
 In strains high warbled to seraphic lyre, 
 
 Hail his arrival on the coast of bliss. 
 
 Yet am not I deterr*d, though high the theme, 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 357 
 
 And sung to harps of angels, for with you, 
 Ethereal flames ! ambitious, I aspire 
 In Nature's general symphony to join. 
 
 And what new wonders can ye show your guest ? 
 Who, while on this dim spot, where mortals toil 
 Clouded in dust, from Motion's simple laws, 
 Could trace the secret hand of Providence, 
 Wide working through this universal frame. 
 
 Have ye not listen'd while he bound the suns 
 And planets to their spheres ! the unequal task 
 Of human-kind till then. Oft had they roll'd 
 O'er erring man the year, and oft disgraced 
 The pride of schools, before their course was known 
 Full in its causes and effects to him, 
 All-piercing sage ! Who sat not down and dream'.d 
 Romantic schemes, defended by the din 
 Of specious words, and tyranny of names; 
 But, bidding his amazing mind attend, 
 And with heroic patience years on years 
 Deep-searching, saw at last the system dawn, 
 And shine, of all his race, on him alone. 
 
 What were his raptures then ! how pure ! how strong ! 
 And what the triumphs of old Greece and Rome, 
 By his diminish'd, but the pride of boys 
 In some small fray victorious ! when, instead 
 Of shalter'd parcels of this earth usurp'd 
 
 By violence unmanly, and sore deeds 
 
 Of cruelty and blood, Nature herself 
 
 Stood all-subdued by him, and open laid 
 
 Her every latent glory to his view. 
 All intellectual eye, our solar round 
 
 First gazing through, he, by the blended power 
 
 Of gravitation and projection, saw 
 
 The whole in silent harmony revolve. 
 
 From unassisted vision hid, the moons, 
 
 To cheer remoter planets numerous form'd, 
 
 By him in all their mingled tracts were seen. 
 
 He also fix'd our wandering Queen of Night, 
 
358 TO THE MEMORY OF SIR, ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 Whether she wanes into a scanty orb, 
 
 Or, waxing broad, with her pale shadowy light, 
 
 In a soft deluge overflows the sky. 
 
 Her every motion clear-discerning, he 
 
 Adjusted to the mutual main, and taught 
 
 Why now the mighty mass of waters swells 
 
 Resistless, heaving on the broken rocks, 
 
 And the full river turning: till again 
 
 The tide revertive, unattracted, leaves 
 
 A yellow waste of idle sands behind. 
 
 Then breaking hence, he took his ardent flight 
 Through the blue infinite: and every star, 
 Which the clear concave of a winter's night 
 Pours on the eye, or astronomic tube, 
 Far stretching, snatches from the dark abyss; 
 Or such as further in successive skies 
 To fancy shine alone, at his approach 
 Blazed into suns, the living centre each 
 Of an harmonious system: all combined, 
 And ruled unerring by that single power, 
 Which draws the stone projected to the ground. 
 
 unprofuse magnificence divine ! 
 wisdom truly perfect ! thus to call 
 From a few causes such a scheme of things, 
 Effects so various, beautiful, and great, 
 A universe complete!. And 0, beloved 
 Of Heaven ! whose well-purged penetrating eye 
 The mystic veil transpiercing, inly scann'd 
 The rising, moving, wide-establish'd frame. 
 
 He, first of men, with awful wing pursued 
 The Comet through the long elliptic curve, 
 As round innumerous worlds he wound his way; 
 Till, to the forehead of our evening sky 
 Return'd, the blazing wonder glares anew, 
 And o'er the trembling nations shakes dismay. 
 
 The heavens are all his own; from the wide rule 
 Of whirling vortices, and circling spheres, 
 To their first great simplicity restored. 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 359 
 
 The sctioois astonish'd stood; but found it vain 
 To combat still with demonstration strong, 
 And unawaken'd dream beneath the blaze 
 Of truth. At. once their pleasing visions fled, 
 With the gay shadows of the morning mix'd, 
 When Newton rose, our philosophic sun! 
 
 The aerial flow of Sound was known to him, 
 From whence it first in wavy circles breaks, 
 Till the touch'd organ takes the message in. 
 Nor could the darting beam of speed immense 
 Escape his swift pursuit, and measuring eye. 
 E'en light itself, which everything displays, 
 Shone undiscover'd, till his brighter mind 
 Untwisted all the shining robe of day; 
 And from the whitening undistinguished blaze, 
 Collecting every ray into his kind, 
 To the charm'd eye educed the gorgeous train 
 Of parent colours. First the flaming red 
 Sprung vivid forth; the tawny orange next; 
 And next delicious yellow; by whose side 
 Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green. 
 Then the pure blue, that swells autumnal skies, 
 Ethereal play'd; and then, of sadder hue, 
 Emerged the deepen' d indigo, as when 
 The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost. 
 While the last gleamings of refracted light 
 Died in the fainting violet away. 
 These, when the clouds distil the rosy shower, 
 Shine out distinct adown the watery bow; 
 While o'er our heads the dewy vision bends 
 Delightful, melting on the fields beneath. 
 Myriads of mingling dyes from these result, 
 And myriads still remain; infinite source 
 Of beauty, ever blushing, ever new. 
 
 Did ever poet image aught so fair, 
 Dreaming in whispering groves, by the hoarse brook 1 
 Or prophet, to whose rapture heaven descends ? 
 E'en now the setting sun and shifting clouds, 
 
3fiO TO THE MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 Seen, Greenwich, from thy lovely heights, declare 
 How just, how beauteous the refractive law. 
 
 The noiseless tide of Time, all bearing down 
 To vast eternity's unbounded sea, 
 Where the green islands of the happy shine, 
 He stemm'd alone; and to the source (involved 
 Deep in primeval gloom) ascending, raised 
 Uis lights at equal distances, to guide 
 Historian, wilder'd on his darksome way. 
 
 But who can number up his labours ? who 
 His high discoveries sing ? but when a few 
 Of the deep-studying race can stretch their minds 
 To what he knew: in fancy's lighter thought, 
 How shall the Muse then grasp the mighty theme? 
 
 What wonder thence that his devotion swell'd 
 Responsive to his knowledge ? For could he. 
 Whose piercing mental eye diffusive saw 
 The finish'd university of things, 
 In all its order, magnitude, and parts, 
 Forbear incessant to adore that Power 
 Who fills, sustains, and actuates the whole ? 
 
 Say ye, who best can tell, ye happy few, 
 Who saw him in the softest lights of life, 
 All unwithheld, indulging to his friends 
 The vast unborrow'd treasures of his mind, 
 Oh, speak the wondrous man ! how mild, how calm, 
 How greatly humble, how divinely good; 
 How firmly stablish'd on eternal truth; 
 Fervent in doing well, with every nerve 
 Still pressing on, forgetful of the past, 
 And panting for perfection: far above 
 Those little cares, and visionary joys, 
 That so perplex the fond impassion' d heart 
 Of ever-cheated, ever-trusting man. 
 
 And you, ye hopeless, gloomy-minded tribe, 
 You who, unconscious of those nobler flights 
 That reach impatient at immortal life, 
 Against the prime endearing privilege 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 361 
 
 Of being dare contend say, can a soul 
 
 Of such extensive, deep, tremendous powers, 
 
 Enlarging still, be but a finer breath 
 
 Of spirits dancing through their tubes awhile, 
 
 And then for ever lost in vacant air 1 
 
 But hark ! methinks I hear a warning voice, 
 Solemn as when some awful change is come, 
 Sound through the world " 'Tis done ! The measure's full; 
 And I resign my charge." Ye mouldering stones, 
 That build the towering pyramid, the proud 
 Triumphal arch, the monument effaced 
 By ruthless ruin, and whate'er supports 
 The worshipped name of hoar antiquity, 
 Down to the dust ! what grandeur can ye boast, 
 While Newton lifts his column to the skies, 
 Beyond the waste of time 1 Let no weak drop 
 Be shed for him. The virgin in her bloom 
 Cut off, the joyous youth, and darling child, 
 These are the tombs that claim the tender tear, 
 And elegiac song. But Newton calls 
 For other notes of gratulation high; 
 That now he wanders through those endless worlds 
 lie here so well descried, and wondering talks, 
 And hymns their Author with his glad compeers. 
 Britain's boast ! whether with angels thou 
 Sittest in dread discourse, or fellow-bless'd, 
 Who joy to see the honour of their kind; 
 Or whether, mounted on cherubic wing, 
 Thy swift career is with the whirling orbs, 
 Comparing things with things, in rapture lost, 
 And grateful adoration, for that light 
 So plenteous ray'd into thy mind below, 
 From light himself; oh, look with pity down 
 On human-kind, a frail erroneous race ! 
 Exalt the spirit of a downward world ! 
 O'er thy dejected Country chief preside, 
 And be her Genius call'd ! her studies raise, 
 Correct her manners, and inspire her youth. 
 
362 TO THE MEMORY OP SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 
 
 For, though depraved and sunk, she brought thee forth, 
 And glories hi thy name: she points thee out 
 To all her sons, and bids them eye thy star: 
 While in expectance of the second life, 
 When time shall be no more, thy sacred dust 
 Sleeps with her kings, and dignifies the scene. 
 
POETICAL WORKS 
 
 THOMAS GRAY, 
 
 2n 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. ELsTinr WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD ... ... 367 
 
 II. ODES. 
 
 - 
 ring/^ 
 
 On the Spring ... ... ... ... ... 372 
 
 Oft^ne Death of a Favourite Cat^ ... ... ... 373 
 
 On a Distant Prospect of EtkHSollege ... ... 375 
 
 To Adversity ... ... ... ... ... 378 
 
 The Progress oO^oesy ... ... ... ... 379 
 
 TheB*fl ... ... ... ... 384 
 
 The Fatal Sisters ... ... ... ... ... 389 
 
 The Descent of Odin ... ... ... ... 392 
 
 The Triumphs of Owen ... ... ... ... 395 
 
 The Death of Hoel ... ... ... ... 397 
 
 For Music ... ... ... ... ... 398 
 
 III. POSTHUMOUS POEMS AND FRAGMENTS. 
 
 A Long Story ... ... ... ... ... 402 
 
 Alliance of Education and Government ... ... 407 
 
 The Tragedy of " Agrippina;" a Fragment ... ... 410 
 
 ^^Vicissitude ... ... ... ... ... 416 
 
 An Imitation from the Gododin ... ... ... 417 
 
 Translation of a Passage from Statius ... ... ... 418 
 
 Hymn to Ignorance ... ... ... ... 419 
 
 Sonnet on the Death of Mr. Richard West ... ... 420 
 
 Epitaph on Mrs. Clarke ... ... ... ... 421 
 
 Epitaph on Sir William Peere Williams ... ... 421 
 
 Stanzas to Mr. Bentley ... ... ... ... 422 
 
 Song ... ... ... ... ... ... 423 
 
 Amatory Lines ... ... ... ... ... 423 
 
 Tophet ... ... ... ... ... ... 424 
 
 Impromptu, suggested by a View, in 1766, of the Seat and 
 
 Ruins of a Deceased Nobleman, at Kingsgate, Kent ... 424 
 
GRAY'S POETICAL WORKS. 
 
 ELEGY. 
 
 WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 
 
 THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 
 The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, 
 
 The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, 
 And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 
 
 Now shades the glimmering landscape on the sight, 
 And all the air a solemn stillness holds, 
 
 Save where the heetle wheels his droning flight, 
 And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds; 
 
 Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower, 
 The moping owl does to the moon complain 
 
 Of such as, wand'ring near her secret bower, 
 Molest her ancient solitary reign. 
 
 Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, 
 Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, 
 
 Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, 
 The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 
 
 The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn, 
 The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, 
 
 The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, 
 No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 
 
 For them no more the blazing hearth shall bum, 
 Or busy housewife ply her evening care; 
 
 No children run to lisp their sire's return, 
 Or climb his knees, the envied kiss to share. 
 
368 ELEGY. 
 
 Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, 
 
 Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; 
 
 How jocund did they drive their team afield ! 
 How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! 
 
 , Let not ambition mock their useful toil, 
 
 Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; 
 
 Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, 
 
 The short aod simple annals of the poor: 
 
 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave, 
 
 Await alike the inevitable hour 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 
 
 Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, 
 If memory o'er the tomb no trophies raise, 
 
 Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, 
 The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 
 
 Can storied urn or animated bust 
 
 Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? 
 
 Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, 
 Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death? 
 
 Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 
 Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire, 
 
 Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, 
 Or waked to ecstacy the living lyre. 
 
 But knowledge to their eyes her ample rape, 
 
 Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll; 
 Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, 
 And froze the genial current of the soul 
 
 Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
 
 The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; 
 
 Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 
 
 Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast 
 The little tyrant of his fields withstood, 
 
ELEGY. 369 
 
 Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, 
 Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. 
 
 Th' applause of listening senates to command, 
 The threats of pain and ruin to despise, 
 
 To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, 
 And read their history in a nation's eyes 
 
 Their lot forbade, nor circumscribed alone 
 Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined; 
 
 Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, 
 And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, 
 
 The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, 
 To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 
 
 Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride 
 With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. 
 
 f Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 
 Their sober wishes never learn'd tc stray; 
 
 Along the cool sequestered vale of life 
 They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 
 
 Yet ev*n these bones from insult to protect 
 Some frail memorial still erected nigh, 
 
 With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, 
 Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 
 
 * Between this and the preceding stanza, in the first MS. of 
 the poem, were the four following: 
 
 The thoughtless world to majesty may bow, 
 
 Exalt the brave, and idolise success; 
 But more to innocence their safety owe, 
 
 Than pow'r or genius e'er conspired to bless. 
 And thou who, mindful of the unhonour'd Dead, 
 
 Dost in these notes their artless tales relate, 
 By night and lonely contemplation led 
 
 To wander in the gloomy walks of fate: 
 Hark! how the sacred calm, that breathes around, 
 
 Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease; 
 In still small accents whispering from the ground, 
 
 A grateful earnest of eternal peace. 
 
370 ELEGY. 
 
 Their name, their years, spelt by th' unlettered Muse, 
 
 The place of fame and elegy supply; 
 And many a holy text around she strews, 
 
 That teach the rustic moralist to die. 
 
 For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey 
 This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, 
 
 Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
 Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind ? 
 
 On some fond breast the parting soul relies, 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires; 
 
 Ev*n from the tomb the voice of nature cries, 
 Ev*n in our ashes live their wonted fires. 
 
 For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd Dead, 
 Dost in these lines their artless tale relate, 
 
 If chance, by lonely contemplation led, 
 Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, 
 
 Haply some hoary-headed swain may say 
 " Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn, 
 
 Brushing with hasty step the dews away, 
 To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.* 
 
 There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, 
 That wreaths its old fantastic roots so high, 
 
 No more, with reason and thyself at strife, 
 
 Give anxious cares and endless wishes room; 
 But through the cool sequester'd vale of life 
 
 Pursue the silent tenor of thy doom. 
 
 And here the poem was. originally intended to conclude, before 
 the happy idea of the hoary-headed swain, &c., suggested itself 
 to him. 
 
 * Variation: "On the high brow of yonder hanging lawn." 
 After which, in the first manuscript, followed this stanza: 
 Him have we seen the greenwood side along, 
 
 While o'er the heath we hied, our labour done, 
 Oft as the woodlark piped her farewell song, 
 With wistful eyes pursue the setting sun. 
 
ELEGY. 37X 
 
 His listless length at noontide would he stretch, 
 And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 
 
 Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, 
 Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove: 
 
 Now drooping, woful wan, like one forlorn, 
 Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. 
 
 One morn I miss'd him on the 'custom'd hill, 
 Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree: 
 
 Another came; nor yet beside the rill, 
 Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. 
 
 The next, with dirges due, in sad array,- 
 
 Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne- 
 Approach and read (for thoii canst read) the lay, 
 
 Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." 
 
 THE EPITAPH.* 
 
 Here rests his head upon the lap of earth 
 A youth to fortune and to fame unknown; 
 
 Fair science frown' d not on his humble birth, 
 And melancholy mark'd him for her own. 
 
 Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, 
 Eeav*n did a recompense as largely send: 
 
 He gave to misery all he had a tear; 
 He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. 
 
 *No farther seek his merits to disclose, 
 
 Or draw his frailties from their dread abode; 
 
 There they alike in trembling hope repose, 
 The bosom of his Father and his God. 
 
 * Before the epitaph, was originally inserted a very beau- 
 tiful stanza, which was printed in some of the first editions, but 
 afterwards omitted, because he thought that it was too long a pa- 
 renthesis in this place. The lines, however, are in themselves 
 exquisitely fine, and demand preservation: 
 
 There scatter 'd oft, the earliest of the year, 
 
 By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; 
 The redbreast loves to build and warble there, 
 And little footsteps lightly print the ground. 
 
ODES, 
 
 ON THE SPRING. 
 
 Lo ! where the rosy-bosom'd hours, 
 
 Fair Venus' train, appear, 
 Disclose the long-expecting flowers, 
 
 And wake the purple year; 
 The Attic warbler pours her throat, 
 Responsive to the cuckoo's note, 
 
 The untaught harmony of spring; 
 While, whisp'ring pleasure as they fly, 
 Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky 
 
 Their gathered fragrance fling. 
 
 Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch 
 
 A broader, browner shade, 
 Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech 
 
 O'er-canopies the glade, 
 Beside some water's rushy brink 
 With me the Muse shall sit, and think 
 
 (At ease reclined in rustic state) 
 How vain the ardour of the crowd ! 
 How low, how little, are the proud ! 
 
 How indigent tbe great ! 
 
 Still is the toiling hand of care, 
 
 The panting herds repose 
 Yet hark ! how through the peopled air 
 
 The busy murmur glows ! 
 The insect youth are on the wing, 
 Eager to taste the honied spring, 
 
 And float amid the liquid noon ; 
 Some lightly o'er the current skim, 
 Some show their gaily-gilded trim, 
 
 Quick-glancing to the sun. 
 
ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT. 373 
 
 To contemplation's sober eye 
 
 Such is the race of man: 
 And they that creep, and they that fly, 
 
 Shall end where they began. 
 Alike the busy and the gay 
 But flutter through life's little day, 
 
 In fortune's varying colours drest: 
 Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, 
 Or chill'd by age, their airy dance 
 
 They leave, in dust to rest. 
 
 Methinks I hear, in accents low, 
 
 The sportive kind reply: 
 Poor moralist ! and what art thou? 
 
 A solitary fly ! 
 
 Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets, 
 No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, 
 
 No painted plumage to display; 
 On hasty wings thy youth is flown, 
 Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone 
 
 We frolic while 'tis May. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, 
 
 DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES. 
 
 'Twas on a lofty vase's side, 
 Where China's gayest art had dyed 
 
 The azure flowers that blow 
 Demurest of the tabby kind, 
 The pensive Selima reclined, 
 
 Gazed on the lake below. 
 
 Her conscious tail her joy declared; 
 The fair round face, the snowy beard, 
 The velvet of her paws, 
 
374 ON THE DEATH OP A FAVOURITE CAT. 
 
 Her coat, that with the tortoise vies, 
 Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, 
 She saw; and purr'd applause. 
 
 Still had she gazed; but 'midst the tid.; 
 Two angel forms were seen to glide, 
 
 The genii of the stream: 
 Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue 
 Through richest purple to the view 
 
 Betrayed a golden gleam. 
 
 The hapless nymph with wonder saw: 
 A whisker first, and then a claw, 
 
 With many an ardent wish, 
 She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize. 
 What female heart can gold despise 1 
 
 What cat's averse to fish ? 
 
 Presumptuous maid ! with looks intent 
 Again she stretch'd, again she bent, 
 
 Nor knew the gulf between 
 (Malignant fate sat by, and smiled): 
 The slipp'ry verge her feet beguiled 
 
 She tumbled headlong in. 
 
 Eight times emerging from the flood, 
 She mew'd to every watery god 
 
 Some speedy aid to send: 
 No Dolphin came, no Nereid stuVd; 
 Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard 
 
 A favorite has no friend ! 
 
 From hence, ye beauties undeceived, 
 Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved, 
 
 And be with caution bold. 
 Not all that tempts your wandering eyes 
 And heedless hearts, is lawful prize; 
 
 Nor all that glisters gold. 
 
375 
 
 ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE. 
 els rb Svsvxeiv. MENANDER. 
 
 Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, 
 
 That crown the watery glade, 
 Where grateful science still adores 
 
 Her Henry's* holy shade; 
 And ye, that from the stately brow 
 Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below 
 
 Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, 
 Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among, 
 Wanders the hoary Thames along 
 
 His silver- winding way ! 
 
 Ah, happy hills ! ah, pleasing shade ! 
 
 Ah, fields beloved in vain, ' 
 Where once my careless childhood stray'd, 
 
 A stranger yet to pain ! 
 I feel the gales that from ye blow, 
 A momentary bliss bestow, 
 
 As waving fresh their gladsome wing, 
 My weary soul they seem to soothe, 
 And, redolent of joy and youth, 
 
 To breathe a second spring. 
 
 Say, Father Thames for thou hast seen 
 
 Full many a sprightly race, 
 Disporting on thy margin green, 
 
 The paths of pleasure trace 
 Who foremost now delight to cleave 
 With pliant arm thy glassy wave ? 
 
 The captive linnet which inthral 1 
 What idle progeny succeed 
 To chase the rolling circle's speed, 
 
 Or urge the flying ball ? 
 
 * King Henry VI., founder of the college. 
 
376 ODE ON ETON COLLEGE. 
 
 While some, on earnest business bent, 
 
 Their murm'ring labours ply 
 'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint 
 
 To sweeten liberty; 
 Some bold adventurers disdain 
 The limits of their little reign, 
 
 And unknown regions dare descry: 
 Still as they run they look behind, 
 They hear a voice in every wind, 
 
 And snatch a fearful joy. 
 
 Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, 
 
 Less pleasing when possest; 
 The tear forgot as soon as shed, 
 
 The sunshine of the breast: 
 Theirs buxom health of rosy hue, 
 Wild wit, invention ever new, 
 
 And lively cheer of vigour born; 
 The thoughtless day, the easy night, 
 The spirits pure, the slumbers light, 
 
 That fly the approach of morn. 
 
 Alas ! regardless of their doom, 
 
 The little victims play: 
 No sense have they of ills to come, 
 
 Nor care beyond to-day. 
 Yet see how all around them wait 
 The ministers of human fate, 
 
 And black misfortune's baleful train ! 
 Ah, show them where in ambush stand 
 To seize their prey the murd'rous band ! 
 
 Ah, tell them they are men ! 
 
 These shall the fury passions tear, 
 
 The vultures of the mind, 
 Disdainful anger, pallid fear, 
 
 And shame that skulks behind; 
 Or pining love shall waste their youth, 
 Or jealousy with rankling tooth, 
 
 That inly gnaws the secret heart, 
 
ODE ON ETON COLLEGE. 377 
 
 And envy wan, and faded care, 
 Grim-visaged comfortless despair, 
 And sorrow's piercing dart. 
 
 Ambition this shall tempt to rfse, 
 
 Then whirl the wretch from high, 
 To bitter scorn a sacrifice, 
 
 And grinning infamy. 
 The stings of falsehood those shall try, 
 And hard unkindness' alter'd eye, 
 
 That mocks the tear it forced to flow; 
 And keen remorse with blood denied, 
 And moody madness laughing wild 
 
 Amid severest wo. 
 
 Lo ! in the vale of years beneath 
 
 A grizzly troop are seen, 
 The painful family of Death, 
 
 More hideous than their queen: 
 This racks the joints, this fires the veins, 
 That every labouring sinew strains, 
 
 Those in the deeper vitals rage: 
 Lo ! poverty, to fill the band, 
 That numbs the soul with icy hand, 
 
 And slow-consuming age. 
 
 To each his suff'rings: all are men 
 
 Condemned alike to groan 
 The tender for another's pain, 
 
 Th' unfeeling for his own. 
 Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate ? 
 Since sorrow never comes too late, 
 
 And happiness too swiftly flies, 
 Thought would destroy their paradise. 
 No more ; where ignorance is bliss, 
 
 'Tis folly to be wise. 
 
378 
 
 TO ADVERSITY. 
 
 TOP <f>poveu> Bporous 66w- 
 <raJTo, rip ira6ei naOwv 
 Qevra Kvpiws exeiv. 
 
 JiscHYLUs, in "Agamemnon" 
 
 Daughter of Jove, relentless power, 
 
 Thou tamer of the human breast, 
 Whose iron scourge and torturing hour. 
 
 The bad affright, afflict the best ! 
 Bound in thy adamantine chain, 
 The proud are taught to taste of pain, 
 
 And purple tyrants vainly groan 
 With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. 
 
 When first thy sire to send on earth 
 
 Virtue, his darling child, design'd, 
 To thee he gave the heaVnly birth, 
 
 And bade to form her infant mind. 
 Stem rugged nurse ! thy rigid lore, 
 With patience many a year she bore: 
 
 What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, 
 And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' wo. 
 
 Scared at thy frown terrific, fly 
 
 Self-pleasing folly's idle brood 
 Wild laughter, noise, and thoughtless joy 
 
 And leave us leisure to be good. 
 Light they disperse, and with them go 
 The summer friend, the flatt'ring foe: 
 
 By vain prosperity received, 
 To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. 
 
 Wisdom, in sable garb array'd, 
 
 Immersed in rapturous thought profound, 
 And Melancholy, silent maid 
 
 With leaden eye, that loves the ground, 
 
THE PROGRESS OF POESY. 379 
 
 Still on thy solemn steps attend, 
 Warm Charity, the general friend, 
 With Justice to herself severe, 
 And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear 
 
 Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head, 
 
 Dread goddess, lay thy ehast'ning hand ! 
 
 Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, 
 Nor circled with the vengeful band 
 
 (As by the impious thou art seen), 
 
 With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien, 
 
 With screaming horror's funeral cry, 
 Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. 
 
 Thy form benign, oh goddess, wear 
 
 Thy milder influence impart 
 Thy philosophic train be there 
 
 To soften, not to wound my heart. 
 The generous spark extinct revive 
 Teach me to love and to forgive 
 
 Exact my own defects to scan 
 What others are to feel, and know myself a man. 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF POESY. 
 
 PINDARIC. 
 
 PINDAR, Olymp. 2. 
 
 Awake, ^Eolian lyre, awake, 
 
 And give to rapture all thy trembling strings ! 
 
 From Helicon's harmonious springs* 
 
 A thousand rills their mazy progress take: 
 
 * The subject and simile, as usual with Pindar, are united. 
 The various sources of poetry, which give life and lustre to all 
 its touches, are here described; its quiet majestic progress enrich- 
 20 
 
380 THE PROGRESS OF POESY. 
 
 The laughing flowers that round them blow, 
 
 Drink life and fragrance as they flow. 
 
 Now the rich stream of music winds along 
 
 Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, 
 
 Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign; 
 
 Now rolling down the steep amain, 
 
 Headlong, impetuous, see it pour: 
 
 The rocks and nodding groves, re-bellow to the roar. 
 
 Oh ! sovereign of the willing soul,* 
 Parent of sweet and solemn -breathing airs, 
 Enchanting shell ! the sullen cares, 
 And frantic passions hear thy soft crontrol. 
 On Thracia's hills the Lord of War 
 Has curb'd the fury of his car, 
 And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command. 
 Perching on the sceptred hand 
 Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feathered king 
 With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing: 
 Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie 
 The terror of his beak, and light'nings of his eye. 
 
 Thee the voice, the dance obey,t 
 Tempered to thy warbled lay. 
 O'er Idalia's velvet-green 
 The rosy-crowned loves are seen 
 On Cytherea's day 
 
 With antic sport, and blue-eyed pleasures, 
 Frisking light in frolic measures; 
 Now pursuing, now retreating, 
 Now hi circling troops they meet; 
 
 ing every subject (otherwise dry and barren) with a pomp of 
 diction and luxuriant harmony of numbers; and its more rapid 
 and irresistible course, when swollen and hurried away by the 
 conflict of tumultuous passions. 
 
 * Power of harmony to calm the turbulent sallies of the soul. 
 The thoughts arc borrowed from the first Pythian of Pindar. 
 
 t Power of harmony to produce all the graces of motion in the 
 body. 
 
THE PROGRESS OF POESY. 381 
 
 To brisk notes in cadence beating 
 
 Glance their many-twinkling feet. 
 
 Slow melting strains their queen's approach declare: 
 
 Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay. 
 
 With arms sublime, that float upon the air, 
 
 In gliding state she wins her easy way: 
 
 O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move 
 
 The bloom of young desire and purple light of love. 
 
 Man's feeble race what ills await * 
 Labour, and penury, the racks of pain, 
 Disease, and sorrow's weeping train, 
 And death, sad refuge from the storms of fate ! 
 The fond complaint, my song, disprove, 
 And justify the laws of Jove. 
 Say, has he given in vain the heav'nly Muse ? 
 Night, and all her sickly dews, 
 Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, 
 He gives to range the dreary sky; 
 Till down the eastern cliffs afar 
 Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war. 
 
 In climes beyond the solar road,t 
 Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, 
 The Muse has broke the twilight gloom, 
 To cheer the shiv'ring native's dull abode. 
 And oft, beneath the odorous shade 
 Of Chili's boundless forests laid, 
 She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, 
 In loose numbers wildly sweet, 
 Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves. 
 Her track, where'er the goddess roves, 
 
 * To compensate the real and imaginary ills of life, the Muse 
 was given to mankind by the same Providence that sends the 
 day by its cheerful presence to dispel the gloom and terrors of 
 the night. 
 
 f Extensive influence of poetic genius over the remotest and 
 most uncivilised nations: its connection with liberty, and the 
 virtues that naturally attend on it. 
 
382 TUB PROGRESS OF POESY. 
 
 Glory pursue, and generous Shame, 
 
 Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. 
 
 Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,* 
 Isles, that crown th' JEgean deep, 
 Fields, that cool Ilissus laves, 
 Or where Maeander's amber waves 
 In lingering lab'rinths creep 
 How do your tuneful echoes languish, 
 Mute, but to the voice of anguish ] 
 Where each old poetic mountain 
 Inspiration breathed around, 
 Ev'ry shade and hallow'd fountain 
 Murmur'd deep a solemn sound; 
 Till the sad Nine in Greece's evil hour 
 Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. 
 Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power, 
 And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. 
 When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, 
 They sought, oh Albion ! next thy sea-encircled coast 
 
 Far from the sun and summer-gale, 
 In thy green lap was nature's darlingt laid, 
 What time, where lucid Avon stray'd, 
 To him the mighty mother did unveil 
 Her awful face: the dauntless child 
 Stretch' d forth his little arms and smiled. 
 This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear 
 Richly paint the vernal year: 
 Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal boy ! 
 This can unlock the gates of joy, 
 
 * Progress of poetry from Greece to Italy, and from Italy t" 
 England. Chaucer was not unacquainted with the writings of 
 Dante or of Petrarch. The Earl of Surrey and Sir Thomas 
 Wyatt had travelled in Italy, and formed their taste ; 
 Spenser imitated the Italian writers; Milton improved on them: 
 but this school expired soon after the .Restoration, and a new one 
 arose on the French model, which subsisted almost to our own time. 
 
 f Shakspere. 
 
THE PROGRESS OP POESY. 383 
 
 Of horror that, and thrilling fears, 
 
 Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears. 
 
 Nor second he,* that rode sublime 
 Upon the seraph-wings of ecstacy, 
 The secrets of the abyss to spy. 
 He pass'd the flaming bounds of Place and Time; 
 The living throne, the sapphire blaze, 
 Where angels tremble while they gaze, 
 He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, 
 Closed his eyes in endless night. 
 Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car, 
 Wide o'er the fields of glory bear 
 Two coursers of ethereal race, 
 With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding 
 pace. 
 
 Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! 
 Bright-eyed fancy, hovering o'er, 
 Scatters from her pictured urn 
 Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. 
 
 But ah ! 'tis heard no more 
 
 Oh ! lyre divine, what daring spirit 
 
 Wakes thee now ? though he inherit 
 
 Nor the pride nor ample pinion, 
 
 That the Theban Eaglet bear, 
 
 Sailing with supreme dominion, 
 
 Through the azure deep of air: 
 
 Yet oft before his infant eyes would run 
 
 Such forms, as glitter in the Muse's ray, 
 
 With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun: 
 
 Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way 
 
 Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, 
 
 Beneath the good how far but far above the great. 
 
 * Milton. f Pindar. 
 
384 
 THE BARD. 
 
 PINDARIC.* 
 
 " Ruin seize thee, ruthless king ! 
 
 Confusion on thy banners wait, 
 
 Though, fann'd by conquest's crimson wing, 
 
 They mock the air with idle state ! 
 
 Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, 
 
 Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant, shall avail 
 
 To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, 
 
 From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears ! " 
 
 Such were the sounds, that o'er the crested pride 
 
 Of the first Edward scatter' d wild dismay, 
 
 As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side 
 
 He wound with toilsome march his Ion:* arr*y. 
 
 Stout Glo'stert stood aghast in speechless trance: 
 
 To arms ! cried Mortimer,! and couch'd his quiv'ring lance. 
 
 On a rock, whose haughty brow 
 Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, 
 Robed in the sable garb of wo, 
 With haggard eyes the poet stood 
 (Loose his beard, and hoary hair 
 Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air), 
 And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, 
 Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. 
 " Hark, how each giant oak, and desert cave, 
 Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath ! 
 
 * This ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that 
 Edward the First, when he completed the conquest of that coun- 
 try, ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to 
 death. 
 
 t Gilbert de Clare, sumamed the Red, Earl of Gloucester and 
 Hertford, son-in-law to King Edward. 
 
 Edmond de Mortimer, lord of Wigmore. Both of these 
 were Lords- Marchers, whose lands lay on the borders of Wales, 
 and who both probably accompanied the king in this expedition. 
 
THE BARB. 385 
 
 O'er thoe, king ! their hundred arms they wave, 
 Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe; 
 Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, 
 To high-born Iloel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. 
 
 "Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, 
 That hush'd the stormy main: 
 Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: 
 Mountains, ye mourn in vain 
 Modred, whose magic song 
 Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topp'd head. 
 On dreary Arvon's shore* they lie, 
 Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale: 
 Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail; 
 The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. 
 Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, 
 Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes, 
 Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, 
 Ye died amidst your dying country's cries ! 
 No more I weep. They do not sleep: 
 On yonder cliffs, a grizzly band, 
 I see them sit, they linger yet, 
 Avengers of their native land: 
 With me in dreadful harmony they join, 
 Andt weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. 
 
 " Weave the warp, and weave the woof, 
 The winding-sheet of Edward's race: 
 Give ample room, and verge enough 
 The characters of hell to trace. 
 Mark the year, and mark the night, 
 When Severn shall re-echo with affright 
 The shrieks of death through Berkley's roofs that ring, 
 Shrieks of an agonising king !J 
 
 * The shores of Caernarvonshire opposite to the Isle of Angle- 
 sea. 
 
 f See the Norwegian ode, that follows. 
 Edward the Second. 
 
386 THE BARD. 
 
 She- wolf of France,* with unrelenting fangs 
 
 That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, 
 
 From thee be born,t who o'er thy country hangs 
 
 The scourge of Heav*n ! What terrors round him wait ! 
 
 Amazement in his van, with flight combined, 
 
 And sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind. 
 
 " Mighty victor, mighty lord, 
 Low on his funeral couchj he lies! 
 No pitying heart, no eye, afford 
 A tear to grace his obsequies. 
 Is the sable Warrior fled ? 
 Thy son is gone: he rests among the dead. 
 The swarm, that in thy noontide beam were born ? 
 Gone to salute the rising morn. 
 Fair laughs the morn,|| and soft the zephyr blows, 
 While proudly riding o'er the azure realm 
 In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes 
 Youth on the prow, and pleasure at the helm 
 Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, 
 That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey. 
 
 " Fill high the sparkling bowl, IT 
 The rich repast prepare, 
 Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast ! 
 Close by the regal chair 
 
 * Isabel of France, Edward the Second's adulterous Queen. 
 
 f Triumphs of Edward the Third of France. 
 
 Death of Edward III., abandoned by his children, and even 
 robbed in his last moments b> his courtiers and his mistress. 
 
 Edward the Black Prince, dead some time before his father. 
 
 H Magnificence of Richard the Second's reign. See Froissart, 
 and other contemporary writers. 
 
 ^1 Richard the Second (as we are told by Archbishop Scroop 
 and the confederate Lords in their manifesto, by Thomas of W:il- 
 singham, and all the older writers) was starved to death. The 
 story of his assassination by Sir Piers of Exon is of much later 
 date. 
 
THE BARD. 387 
 
 Fell Thirst and FamiDe scowl 
 
 A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. 
 
 Heard ye the din of battle bray* 
 
 Lance to lance, and horse to horse ? 
 
 Long years of havoc urge their destined course, 
 
 And through the kindred squadrons mow their way. 
 
 Ye towers of Julius,t London's lasting shame, 
 
 With many a foul and midnight murder fed, 
 
 Revere his consort's! faith, his father's fame, 
 
 And spare the meek usurper's! | holy head! 
 
 Above, below, the rose of snow, 
 
 Twined with her blushing foe, we spread*. 
 
 The bristled BoarlF in infant gore 
 
 Wallows beneath the thorny shade. 
 
 Now, brothers, bending o'er th' accursed loom, 
 
 Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his doom. 
 
 " Edward, lo ! to sudden fate 
 (Weave the woof: the thread is spun !) 
 Half of thy heart we consecrate:** 
 (The web is wove: the work is done !) 
 Stay, stay ! nor thus forlorn, 
 Leave me unbless'd, unpitied, here to mourn: 
 In yon bright track, that fires the western skies, 
 They melt, they vanish from my eyes. 
 But oh ! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height, 
 Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll ? 
 
 * Ruinous civil wars of York and Lancaster. 
 
 f The oldest part of tlie Tower of London is vulgarly attributed 
 to Julius Caesar. 
 
 J Margaret of Anjou. Henry the Fifth. 
 
 || Henry the Sixth was very near being canonised. 
 
 U The silver Boar was the badge of Richard the Third, whence 
 he was usually known in his own time by the name of the Boar. 
 
 ** Eleanor of Castile died a few years after the conquest of 
 Wales . The heroic proof she gave of her affection for her husband 
 is well known. The monuments of his regret, and sorrow for the 
 loss of her, are still to be seen at Northampton, Geddington, 
 Waltham, and other places. 
 
388 THE BARD. 
 
 Visions of glory, spare my aching sight; 
 
 Ye unborn ages, crowd not on niy soul ! 
 
 No more our long-lost Arthur* we bewail: 
 
 All hail, ye genuine kings,t Britannia's issue, hail. 
 
 " Girt with many a baron bold, 
 Sublime their starry fronts they rear; 
 And gorgeous dames, and statesmen old 
 In bearded majesty, appear. 
 In the midst a form divine 
 Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line; 
 Her lion-port, J her awe-commanding face, 
 Attemper'd sweet to virgin grace. 
 What strings symphonious tremble in the air ! 
 What strains of vocal transport round her play ! 
 Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear; 
 They breathe a soul to animate thy clay. 
 Bright Rapture calls, and soaring, as she sings, 
 Waves in the eye of heav'n her many-colour'd wings. 
 
 " The verse adorn again, 
 Fierce war, and faithful love, 
 And truth severe, by fairy fiction dress'd ! 
 In buskin'd measures move,|| 
 
 * It was the common belief of the Welsh, that King Arthur was 
 still alive in Fairyland, and should return again to reign over 
 Britain. 
 
 f Both Merlin and Taliessin had prophesied, that the Welsh 
 should regain their sovereign! ty over this island, which seemed 
 to be accomplished in the house of Tudor. 
 
 t Speed, relating an audience given by Queen Elizabeth to Paul 
 Dzialinski, Ambassador of Poland, says, " And thus she, lion- 
 like rising, daunted the malapert orator no less with her stately 
 port and majestical deporture, than with the tartnesse of her 
 princelie checkes." 
 
 Taliessin, Chief of the Bards, flourished in the sixth cci 
 His works are still preserved, and his memory held in high vene- 
 ration, among his countrymen. 
 
 || Shakspere. 
 
THE FATAL SISTERS. 389 
 
 Pale Grief, and pleasing Pain, 
 
 "With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast I 
 
 A voice as of the cherub-choir* 
 
 Gales from blooming Eden bear; 
 
 And distant warblings lessen on my ear,t 
 
 That lost in long futurity expire. 
 
 Fond impious Man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud, 
 
 Raised by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day] 
 
 To-morrow he repairs the golden flood, 
 
 And warms the nations with redoubled ray. 
 
 Enough for me: With joy I see 
 
 The different doom our fates assign: 
 
 Be thine despair, and sceptred care, 
 
 To triumph, and to die, are mine." 
 
 He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height 
 
 Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night. 
 
 THE FATAL SISTERS. 
 
 FROM THE NORSE TONGUE.! 
 
 Now the storm begins to lower 
 (Haste, the loom of hell prepare), 
 
 * Milton. 
 
 f The succession of poets after Milton's time, 
 
 J To be found in the " Orcades of Thormodus Torfaeus; 
 Hafnise," 1697, folio; and also in " Bartholinus." 
 
 In the eleventh century, Sigurd, Earl of Orkney, went with a 
 fleet of ships, and a considerable body of troops, into Ireland, to 
 the assistance of Sictryg of the Silken Beard, who was then 
 making war on his father-in-law, Brian, King of Dublin. The 
 earl and all his forces were cut to pieces, and Sictryg was in 
 danger of a total defeat; but the enemy had a greater loss by the 
 death of Brian, their king, who fell in the action. On Christmas- 
 day (the day of battle), a native of Caithness, in Scotland, saw, at 
 a distance, a number of persons on horseback, riding full speed 
 
390 THE FATAL SISTERS. 
 
 Iron sleet of arrow shower* 
 Hurtles in the darken' d air.t 
 
 Glitt'ring lances are the loom, 
 
 Where the dusky warp we strain; 
 Weaving many a soldier's doom, 
 
 Orkney's wo, and Raudver's bane. 
 
 See the grizzly texture grow 
 
 (*Tis of human entrails made), 
 And the weights, that play below, 
 
 Each a gasping warrior's head. 
 
 Shafts for shuttles, dipp'd in gore, 
 
 Shoot the trembling cords along. 
 Sword, that once a monarch bore, 
 
 Keep the tissue close and strong ! 
 
 Mista black, terrific maid, 
 
 Sangrida, and Hilda see, 
 Join the wayward work to aid: 
 
 'Tis the woof of victory. 
 
 towards a hill, and seeming to enter into it. Curiosity led him 
 to follow them, till, looking through an opening in the rocks, he 
 saw twelve gigantic figures resembling women: they were all em- 
 ployed about a loom; and as they wove, they sung the following 
 dreadful song; which, when they had finished, they tore the web 
 into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped six to 
 the north, and as many to the south. These were the Valkyriur, 
 female divinities, servants of Odin (or Woden) in the Gothic 
 mythology. Their name signifies Choosers of the slain. Thoy 
 were mounted on swift horses, with drawn swords in their hands; 
 and in the throng of battle selected such as were destir, 
 slaughter, and conducted them to Valhalla, the hall of Odin, or 
 paradise of the brave; where they attended the banquet, ami 
 served the departed heroes with horns of mead and ale. 
 
 * " How quick they wheel'd, and flying, behind them shot 
 Sharp sleet of arrowy show'r." Paradise Regained. 
 
 f " The noise of battle hurtled in the air/' 
 
 SHAKSPERE'S Julius Catsar. 
 
THE FATAL SISTERS. 391 
 
 Ere the ruddy sun be set, 
 
 Pikes must shiver, javelins sing, 
 Blade with clattering buckler meet, 
 
 Hauberk crash, and helmet ring. 
 
 (Weave the crimson web of war) 
 
 Let us go, and let us fly, 
 Where our friends the conflict share, 
 
 Where they triumph, where they die. 
 
 As the paths of fate we tread, 
 
 Wading through th' ensanguined field; 
 
 Gondula, and Geira, spread 
 O'er the youthful king your shield. 
 
 We the reins to slaughter give, 
 
 Ours to kill, and ours to spare: 
 Spite of danger he shall live. 
 
 (Weave the crimson web of war.) 
 
 They, whom once the desert-beach 
 
 Pent within its bleak domain, 
 Soon their ample sway shall stretch 
 
 O'er the plenty of the plain. 
 
 Low the dauntless earl is laid, 
 
 Gored with many a gaping wound: 
 Fate demands a nobler head; 
 
 Soon a king shall bite the ground. 
 
 Long his loss shall Erin weep, 
 
 Ne'er again his likeness see; 
 Long her strains in sorrow steep, 
 
 Strains of immortality ! 
 
 Horror covers all the heath, 
 
 Clouds of carnage blot the sun. 
 Sisters, weave the web of death; 
 
 Sisters, cease, the work is done ! 
 
 Hail the task, and hail the hands ! 
 Songs of joy and triumph sing! 
 
392 THE DESCENT OF 
 
 Joy to the victorious bands; 
 Triumph to the younger king. 
 
 Mortal, thou that hear'st the tale, 
 Learn the tenor of our'song: 
 
 Scotland, through each winding vale 
 Far and wide the notes prolong. 
 
 Sisters, hence with spurs of speed; 
 
 Each her thundering falchion wield; 
 Each bestride her sable steed 
 
 Hurry, hurry to the field ! 
 
 THE DESCENT OF ODIN* 
 
 PROM THE NORSE TONGUE. 
 
 Uprose the king of men with speed, 
 And saddled straight his coal-black steed: 
 Down the yawning steep he rode 
 That leads to Hela'st drear abode. 
 Him the dog of darkness spied 
 His shaggy throat he open'd wide, 
 While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd, 
 Foam and human gore distill'd: 
 
 Hoarse he bays with hideous din, 
 Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin; 
 And long pursues, with fruitless yell, 
 The father of the powerful spell. 
 Onward still his way he takes 
 (The groaning earth beneath him shakes), 
 
 * The original is to be found in " Bartholinus, De causis cor 
 temnendce mortis; Hafniae," 1689, quarto. 
 
 " Upreis Odinn allda gautr," &c. 
 
 t Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothic nations, consisted of nin 
 worlds, to which were devoted all such as died of sickness, ol 
 age, or by any other means than in battle: over it presided IK !. 
 the Goddess of Death. 
 
THE DESCENT OF ODIN. 393 
 
 Till full before his fearless eyes 
 The portals nine of hell arise. 
 
 Right against the eastern gate, 
 By the moss-grown pile he sate, 
 Where long of yore to sleep was laid 
 The dust of the prophetic maid. 
 Facing to the northern clime, 
 Thrice he traced the Runic rhyme, 
 Thrice pronounced, in accents dread, 
 The thrilling verse that wakes the dead, 
 Till from out the hollow ground 
 Slowly breathed a sullen sound. 
 
 PROPHETESS. 
 
 What call unknown, what charms presume 
 To break the quiet of the tomb / 
 Who thus afflicts my troubled sprite, 
 And drags me from the realms of night 'I 
 Long on these mould'ring bones have beat 
 The winter's snow, the summer's heat, 
 The drenching dews, and driving rain ! 
 Let me, let me sleep again. 
 Who is he, with voice unblest, 
 That calls me from the bed of rest ? 
 
 ODIN. 
 
 A traveller, to thee unknown, 
 
 Is he that calls, a warrior's son. 
 
 Thou the deeds of light shalt know; 
 
 Tell me what is done below, 
 
 For whom yon glitt'ring board is spread ? 
 
 Drest for whom yon golden bed ? 
 
 PROPHETESS. 
 
 Mantling in the goblet see 
 The pure beVrage of the bee; 
 O'er it hangs the shield of gold 
 'Tis the drink of Balder bold. 
 Balder's head to death is given: 
 Pain can reach the sons of Heaven ! 
 
394 THE DESCENT OF ODIN, 
 
 Unwilling I my lips unclose: 
 Leave me, leave me to repose. 
 
 ODIN. 
 
 Once again my call obey ! 
 Prophetess, arise, and say, 
 What dangers Odin's child await 
 Who the author of his fate 1 
 
 PROPHETESS. 
 
 In Hoder's hand the hero's doom: 
 His brother sends him to the tomb. 
 Now my weary lips I close: 
 Leave me, leave me to repose. 
 
 ODIN. 
 
 Prophetess, my spell obey 
 Once again, arise, and say, 
 Who th' avenger of his guilt 1 
 By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt ? 
 
 PROPHETESS. 
 
 In the caverns of the west, 
 By Odin's fierce embrace comprest, 
 A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear, 
 Who ne'er shall comb his raven hair, 
 Nor wash his visage in the stream, 
 Nor see the sun's departing beam, 
 Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile 
 Flaming on the fim'ral pile. 
 Now my weary lips I close: 
 Leave me, leave me to repose. 
 
 ODIN. 
 
 Yet awhile my call obey ! 
 Prophetess, awake, and say, 
 What virgins these, in speechless wo, 
 That bend to earth their solemn brow, 
 That their flaxen tresses tear, 
 And snowy veils, that float in air ? 
 Tell me whence their sorrows rose: 
 Then I leave thee to repose. 
 
THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN. 395 
 
 PROPHETESS. 
 
 Ha ! no traveller art thou 
 King of men, I know thee now, 
 Mightiest of a mighty line 
 
 ODIN. 
 
 No boding maid of skill divine 
 Art thou, nor prophetess of good; 
 But mother of the giant-brood ! 
 
 PROPHETESS. 
 
 Hie thee hence, and boast at home, 
 That never shall inquirer come 
 To break my iron-sleep again 
 Till Lok* has burst his tenfold chain: 
 Never, till substantial Night 
 Has re-assumed her ancient right; 
 Till warp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd, 
 Sinks the fabric of the world. 
 
 THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN.t 
 
 FROM THE WELSH. 
 
 Owen's praise demands my song, 
 Owen swift, and Owen strong, 
 Fairest flower of Roderic's stem, 
 Gwyneth'sJ shield, and Britain's gem. 
 
 * Lok is the evil being, who continues in chains till the Twilight 
 of the Gods approaches, when he shall break his bonds; the hu- 
 man race, the stars, and sun, shall disappear; the earth sink in 
 the seas, and fire consume the skies: even Odin himself and his kin- 
 dred deities shall perish. See Mallet's "Northern Antiquities.' 
 
 f From Mr Evans* "Specimens of the Welsh Poetry, 1764." 
 Owen succeeded his father Griffin in the principality of North 
 Wales, A.D. 1120. This battle was fought nearly forty years after- 
 wards. 
 
 J North Wales. 
 2 D 
 
396 THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN. 
 
 He nor heaps his brooded stores, 
 Nor on all profusely pours; 
 Lord of every regal art, 
 Liberal hand, and open heart. 
 
 Big with hosts of mighty name, 
 Squadrons three against him came; 
 This the force of Erin hiding, 
 Side by side as proudly riding, 
 On her shadow long and gay 
 Lochlin* ploughs the wat'ry way; 
 There the Norman sails afar 
 Catch the winds, and join the war: 
 Black and huge along they sweep, 
 Burdens of the angry deep. 
 
 Dauntless on his native sands 
 The Dragon-son t of Mona stands; 
 In glitt'ring arms and glory drest, 
 High he rears his ruby crest. 
 There the thund'ring strokes begin, 
 There the press, and there the din; 
 Talymalfra's rocky shore 
 Echoing to the battle's roar. 
 Check'd by the torrent-tide of blood 
 Backward Menai rolls his flood; 
 While, heap'd his master's feet around, 
 Prostrate warriors gnaw the ground. 
 Where his glowing eyeballs turn, 
 Thousand banners round him burn: 
 Where he points his purple spear, 
 Hasty, hasty Rout is there, 
 Marking with indignant eye 
 Fear to stop, and Shame to fly. 
 
 * Denmark. 
 
 t The Red- Dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all his 
 descendants bore on their banners. 
 
THE DEATH OF HOEL. 397 
 
 There Confusion, Terror's child, 
 Conflict fierce, and Ruin wild, 
 Agony, that pants for breath, 
 Despair and honourable Death. 
 
 THE DEATH OF HOEL. 
 
 FROM THE WELSH.* 
 
 Had I but the torrent's might, 
 
 With headlong rage and wild affright 
 
 Upon Deira's squadrons hurl'd, 
 
 To rush, and sweep them from the world ! 
 
 Too, too secure in youthful pride 
 By them my friend, my Hoel, died, 
 Great Cian's son: of Madoc old 
 He ask'd no heaps of hoarded gold; 
 Alone in Nature's wealth array'd, 
 He ask'd, and had the lovely maid. 
 
 To Cattraeth's vale in glitt'ring row- 
 Twice two hundred warriors go; 
 Every warrior's manly neck 
 Chains of regal honour deck, 
 Wreath'd in many a golden link: 
 From the golden cup they drink 
 Nectar, that the bees produce, 
 Or the grape's ecstatic juice. 
 Flush'd with mirth and hope they burn: 
 But none from Cattraeth's vale return, 
 Save Aeron brave, and Conan strong 
 (Bursting through the bloody throng), 
 And I, the meanest of them all, 
 That live to weep, and sing their fall. 
 
 * Of Aneurim, styled the Monarch of the Bards. He flourished 
 about the time of Taliessin, A.D. 570. This ode is extracted 
 from the Gododin (See Mr Evans* " Specimens," p. 71 and 73). 
 
398 
 
 FOR MUSIO.* 
 
 IRREGULAR. 
 
 Air. 
 
 " Hence, avaunt ftis holy ground), 
 Comus and his midnight crew; 
 And Ignorance with looks profound, 
 And dreaming Sloth of pallid hue, 
 Mad Sedition's cry profane, 
 Servitude that hugs her chain ! 
 Nor in these consecrated bowers 
 Let painted Flatt'ryhide her serpent-train in flowers; 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Nor Envy hase, nor creeping Gain, 
 Dare the Muse's walk to stain, 
 While bright-eyed Science watches round; 
 Hence, away, 'tis holy ground!" 
 
 Recitative. 
 
 From yonder realms of empyrean day 
 Bursts on my ear th' indignant lay: 
 There sit the sainted sage, the bard divine, 
 The few, whom genius gave to shine 
 Through every unborn age, and undiscovered clime. 
 Rapt in celestial transport they: 
 Yet hither oft a glance from high 
 They send of tender sympathy 
 To bless the place, whereon their opening soul 
 First the genuine ardour stole. 
 'Twas Milton struck the deep-toned shell, 
 And as the choral warblings round him swell, 
 Meek Newton's self bends from his state sublime, 
 And nods his hoary head, and listens to the rhyme. 
 
 * This ode was performed in the Senate-house at Cambridge, 
 July 1, 1769, at the Installation of his Grace Augustus Henry 
 Fitzroy, Duke of Qraftou Chancellor of the University. 
 
ON THE INSTALLATION. 399 
 
 Air. 
 
 "Ye brown o'er-arching groves, 
 That contemplation loves, 
 Where willowy Camus lingers with delight ! 
 Oft at the blush of dawn 
 I trod your level lawn, 
 Oft woo'd the gleam of Cynthia silver bright 
 In cloisters dim, far from the haunts of folly, 
 With freedom by my side, and soft-eyed melancholy." 
 
 Recitative. 
 
 But hark ! the portals sound, and pacing forth 
 With solemn steps and slow. 
 High potentates, and dames of royal birth, 
 And mitred fathers in long order go: 
 Great Edward* with the lilies on his brow 
 From haughty Gallia torn, 
 And sad Chatillon,t on her bridal morn 
 That wept her bleeding love, and princely Clare,t 
 And Anjou's heroine, and the paler Rose,|| 
 The rival of her crown, and of her woes, 
 
 * Edward the Third, who added the fleur de lys of France to 
 the arms of England. He founded Trinity College. 
 
 f Mary de Valentia, Countess of Pembroke, daughter of Guy 
 de Chatillon, Comte de St Paul in France: of whom tradition 
 says, that her husband Audemar de Valentia, Earl of Pembroke, 
 was slain at a tournament on the day of his nuptials. She was 
 the foundress of Pembroke College or Hall, under the name of 
 Aula Marise de Valentia. 
 
 J Elizabeth de Burg, Countess of Clare, was wife of John de 
 Burg, son and heir of the Earl of Ulster, and daughter of Gilbert 
 de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, by Joan of Acres, daughter of 
 Edward the First. Hence the poet gives her the epithet of 
 " princely." She founded Clare Hall. 
 
 Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry the Sixth, foundress of 
 Queen's College. The poet has celebrated her conjugal fidelity 
 in "The Bard." 
 
 || Elizabeth Widville, wife of Edward the Fourth (hence called 
 the paler rose, as being the House of York). She added to the 
 foundation of Margaret of Anjou. 
 
400 ON TUB INSTALLATION. 
 
 And either Henry* there, 
 
 The murder'd saint, and the majestic lord, 
 
 That broke the bonds of Rome 
 
 (Their tears, their little triumphs o'er, 
 
 Their human passions now no more, 
 
 Save charity, that glows beyond the tomb). 
 
 Recitative accompanied. 
 All that on Granta's fruitful plain 
 Rich streams of regal bounty pourM, 
 And bade these awful fanes and turrets rise, 
 To hail their Fitzroy's festal morning conic; 
 And thus they speak in soft accord 
 The liquid language of the skies. 
 
 Quartette. 
 
 " What is grandeur, what is power ? 
 Heavier toil, superior pain: 
 What the bright reward we gain ] 
 The grateful memory of the good. 
 Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, 
 The bee's collected treasures sweet, 
 Sweet music's melting fall, but, sweeter yet, 
 The still small voice of gratitude." 
 
 Recitative. 
 
 Foremost, and leaning from her golden cloud, 
 The venerable Marg'rett see ! 
 " Welcome, my noble son (she cries aloud), 
 To this, thy kindred train, and me: 
 Pleased in thy lineaments we trace 
 A Tudor's fire, a Beaufort's* grace. 
 
 * Henry the Sixth and Eighth, the former the founder of 
 King's, the latter the greatest benefactor to Trinity College. 
 
 f Countess of Richmond and Derby, the mother of Henry the 
 Seventh, foundress of St John's and Christ's Colleges. 
 
 The Countess was a Beaufort, and married to a Tudor: 
 hence the application of this line to the Duke of Graftou, \\ Lo 
 claims descent from both these families. 
 
ON THE INSTALLATION. 401 
 
 Air. 
 
 Thy liberal heart, thy judging eye, 
 The flower unheeded shall descry, 
 And bid it round heaven's altars shed 
 The fragrance of its blushing head; 
 Shall raise from earth the latent gem 
 To glitter on the diadem. 
 
 Recitative. 
 
 " Lo, Granta waits to lead her blooming band ! 
 Not obvious, not obtrusive, she 
 No vulgar praise, no venal incense flings; 
 Nor dares, with courtly tongue refined, 
 Profane thy inborn royalty of mind; 
 She reveres herself and thee. 
 With modest pride to grace thy youthful brow, 
 The laureate wreath that Cecil* wore, she brings, 
 And to thy just, thy gentle hand, 
 Submits the fasces of her sway, 
 While spirits blest above and men below 
 Join with glad voice the loud symphonious lay. 
 
 Grand Chorus. 
 
 " Through the wild waves as they roar, 
 . With watchful eye and dauntless mien 
 Thy steady course of honour keep, 
 Nor fear the rocks, nor seek the shore: 
 The star of Brunswick smiles serene, 
 And gilds the horrors of the deep." 
 
 * Lord Treasurer Burleigh was Chancellor of the University 
 in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
POSTHUMOUS POEMS AND FRAGMENTS. 
 
 A LONG STORY* 
 
 In Britain's isle, no matter where, 
 An ancient pile of building stands ;t 
 
 The Huntingdons and Hattons there 
 Employ'd the power of fairy hands 
 
 To raise the ceiling's fretted height, 
 Each pannel in achievements clothing, 
 
 Rich windows that exclude the light, 
 And passages that lead to nothing. 
 
 Full oft within the spacious walls, 
 When he had fifty winters o'er him, 
 
 My grave Lord-keepert led the brawls; 
 The seal and maces danced before him. 
 
 * The poet has thus spoken of the origin of these verses: 
 " The ' Elegy,' previous to its publication, was handed about 
 in MS., and had amongst other admirers the Lady Cobham; 
 who resided in the mansionhouse at Stoke-Pogeis. The perfor- 
 mance inducing her to wish for the author's acquaintance, Lady 
 Schaub and Miss Speed, then at her house, undertook to intro- 
 duce her to it. These two ladies waited upon the author at his 
 aunt's solitary habitation, where he at that time resided, and not 
 finding him at home, they left a card behind them. Mr Gray, 
 surprised at such a compliment, returned the visit; and, as the 
 beginning of this intercourse bore some appearance of romance, 
 he gave the humorous and lively account of it which the ' Long 
 Story' contains." 
 
 f- The mansionhouse at Stoke- Pogeis, then in the possession of 
 Viscountess Cobham. The house formerly belonged to the Earls 
 of Huntingdon and the family of Hatton. 
 
 $ Sir Christopher Hatton, promoted by Queen Elizabeth for hig 
 graceful person and fine dancing. Brawls were a sort of fipuv- 
 dance then in vogue, and probably deemed as elegant as our mo- 
 dern cotillons, or still more modern quadrilles. 
 
A LONG STORY. 403 
 
 His bushy beard and shoe-strings green, 
 His high-crown' d hat and satin doublet, 
 
 Moved the stout heart of England's queen, 
 Though Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it. 
 
 What, hi the very first beginning ! 
 
 Shame of the versifying tribe ! 
 Your history whither are you spinning ? 
 
 Can you do nothing but describe ? 
 
 A house there is (and that's enough) 
 From whence one fatal morning issues 
 
 A brace of warriors, not in buff, 
 
 But rustling in their silks and tissues. 
 
 The first came cap-a-pie from France, 
 
 Her conquering destiny fulfilling, 
 Whom meaner beauties eye askance, 
 
 And vainly ape her art of killing 
 
 The other Amazon kind Heaven 
 
 Had arm'd with spirit, wit, and satire; 
 
 But Cobham had the polish given, 
 And tipp'd her arrows with good-nature. 
 
 To celebrate her eyes, her hair, 
 
 Coarse panegyrics would but teaze her; 
 
 Melissa is her nom de guerre; 
 
 Alas ! who would not wish to please her \ 
 
 With bonnet blue and capuchine, 
 
 And aprons long, they hid then* armour, 
 
 And veil'd then* weapons bright and keen, 
 In pity to the country farmer. 
 
 Fame in the shape of Mr P 1* 
 
 (By this time all the parish know it) 
 
 Had told that thereabouts there lurk'd 
 A wicked imp they call a poet, 
 
 * Mr Robert Purt, Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, 
 neighbour of Mr Gray's when the latter resided at Stoke. 
 
404 A LONG STOEY. 
 
 Who prowl'd the country far and near, 
 Bewitch'd the children of the peasants, 
 
 Dried up the cows and lamed the deer, 
 And suck'd the eggs and kill'd the pheasants. 
 
 My lady heard their joint petition, 
 
 Swore by her coronet and ermine, 
 She'd issue out her high commission 
 
 To rid the manor of such vermin. 
 
 The heroines undertook the task; 
 
 Through lanes unknown, o'er stiles, they ventured, 
 Rapp'd at the door, nor staid to ask, 
 
 But bounce into the parlour enter'd. 
 
 The trembling family they daunt 
 
 They flirt, they sing, they laugh, they tattle, 
 
 Rummage his mother, pinch his aunt, 
 And up-stairs in a whirlwind rattle. 
 
 Each hole and cupboard they explore, 
 Each creek and cranny of his chamber, 
 
 Run hurry-skurry round the floor, 
 And o'er the bed and tester clamber; 
 
 Into the drawers and china pry, 
 
 Papers and books, a huge imbroglio ! 
 
 Under a tea-cup he might lie, 
 Or creased like dogVears in a folio. 
 
 On the first marching of the troops, 
 The Muses, hopeless of his pardon, 
 
 Convey'd him underneath their hoops 
 To a small closet hi the garden; 
 
 (So rumour says; who will believe ?) 
 
 But that they left the door ajar, 
 Where safe, and laughing in his sleeve, 
 
 He heard the din of distant war. 
 
 Short was his joy: he little knew 
 The power of magic was no fable; 
 
A LONG STORY. 405 
 
 Out of the window whisk they flew, 
 But left a spell upon the table. 
 
 The words too eager to unriddle, 
 
 The poet felt a strange disorder; 
 Transparent bird-lime form'd the middle, 
 
 And chains invisible the border. 
 80 cunning was the apparatus, 
 
 The powerful pot-hooks did so move him, 
 That will-he nill-he to the great house 
 
 He went as if the devil drove him. 
 
 Yet on his way (no sign oi grace, 
 
 For folks in fear are apt to pray) 
 To Phoebus he preferr'd his case, 
 
 And begg'd his aid that dreadful day. 
 
 The Godhead would have back'd his quarrel, 
 
 But with a blush, on recollection, 
 Own'd that his quiver and his laurel 
 
 'Gainst four such eyes were no protection. 
 
 The court was sat, the culprit there- 
 
 Forth from their gloomy mansions creeping, 
 
 The Lady Janes and Joans repair, 
 And from the gallery stand peeping: 
 
 Such as in silence of the night 
 
 Come (sweep) along some winding entry 
 
 (Styack* has often seen the sight), 
 Or at the chapel-door stand sentry, 
 
 In peaked hoods and mantles tarnish' d, 
 
 Sour visages enough to scare ye, 
 High dames of honour once that garnish' d 
 
 The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary ! 
 
 The peeress comes: the audience stare, 
 And doff their hats with due submission; 
 
 She curtseys as she takes her chair 
 To all the people of condition. 
 
 * The housekeeper. 
 
406 A LONG STORY. 
 
 The bard with many an artful fib 
 
 Had in imagination fenced him, 
 Disproved the arguments of Squib,* 
 
 And all that Groomt could urge against him. 
 But soon his rhetoric forsook him, 
 
 When he the solemn hall had seen; 
 A sudden fit of ague shook him; 
 
 He stood as mute as poor Macleane.t 
 
 Yet something he was heard to mutter 
 u How in the park beneath an old tree 
 
 (Without design to hurt the butter, 
 Or any malice to the poultry) 
 
 He once or twice had penn'd a sonnet, 
 Yet hoped that he might save his bacon; 
 
 Numbers would give their oaths upon it. 
 He ne'er was for a conj'rer taken." 
 
 The ghostly prudes with hagged face 
 Already had condemn'd the sinner: 
 
 My lady rose, and with a grace 
 She smiled, and bid him come to dinner. 
 
 " Jesu-Maria ! Madam Bridget, 
 Why, what can the viscountess mean ? " 
 
 Cried the square hoods in woful fidget, 
 " The times are alter'd quite and clean ! 
 
 Decorum's turn'd to mere civility; 
 
 Her air and all her manners show it: 
 Commend me to her affability ! 
 
 Speak to a commoner and poet ! " 
 
 [Here 500 Stanzas are lost.] 
 And so God save our noble king, 
 
 And guard us from long-winded lubbers, 
 That to eternity would sing, 
 
 And keep my lady from her rubbers. 
 
 * The steward. t Groom of the cliamber. 
 
 A famous highwayman, hanged the week before. 
 
407 
 ALLIANCE OF EDUCATION AND GOVERNMENT 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 ; rdv ydp &oi8av 
 Qtiri TTW els Aldap ye rbv ^/cXeXatfojra 0iAae?s. THEOCRITUS. 
 
 As sickly plants betray a niggard earth, 
 
 Whose barren bosom starves her gen'rous birth, 
 
 Nor genial warmth, nor genial juice retains 
 
 Their roots to feed and fill their verdant veins; 
 
 And, as in climes where Winter holds his reign, 
 
 The soil though fertile will not teem in vain, 
 
 Forbids her gems to swell, her shades to rise, 
 
 Nor trusts her blossoms to the churlish skies; 
 
 So draw mankind in vain the vital airs, 
 
 UnformM, unfriended, by those kindly cares 
 
 That health and vigour to the soul impart, 
 
 Spread the young thought, and warm the op'ning heart; 
 
 So fond instruction on the growing powers 
 
 Of nature idly lavishes her stores, 
 
 If equal justice with unclouded face 
 
 Smile not indulgent on the rising race, 
 
 And scatter with a free though frugal hand 
 
 Light golden showers of plenty o'er the land: 
 
 But tyranny has fix'd her empire there, 
 
 To check their tender hopes with chilling fear, 
 
 And blast the blooming promise of the year. 
 
 This spacious animated scene survey, 
 From where the rolling orb that gives the day 
 His sable sons with nearer course surrounds, 
 To either pole and life's remotest bounds, 
 How rude soe'er th' exterior form we find, 
 Howe'er opinion tinge the varied mind, 
 Alike to all the kind impartial Heaven 
 The sparks of truth and happiness has given. 
 With sense to feel, with mem'ry to retain, 
 They follow pleasure and they fly from pain; 
 
408 EDUCATION AND GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Their judgment mends the plan their fancy draws, 
 The event presages, and explores the cause; 
 The soft returns of gratitude they know, 
 By fraud elude, by force repel the foe; 
 While mutual wishes mutual woes endear, 
 The social smile and sympathetic tear. 
 
 Say, then, through ages by what fate confined 
 To different climes seem different souls assign'd ? 
 Here measured laws and philosophic ease 
 Fix and improve the polish' d arts of peace; 
 There industry and gain their vigils keep, 
 Command the winds, and tame th' unwilling deep; 
 Here force and hardy deeds of blood prevail, 
 There languid pleasure sighs in every gale. 
 Ofo o'er the trembling nations from afar 
 Has Scythia breathed the living cloud of war, 
 And where the deluge bursts with sweepy sway, 
 Their arms, their kings, their gods, were roll'd away. 
 As oft have issued, host impelling host, 
 The blue-eyed myriads from the Baltic coast: 
 The prostrate south to the destroyer yields 
 Her boasted titles and hd golden fields: 
 With grim delight the brood of Winter view 
 A brighter day, and heavens of azure hue, 
 Scent the new fragrance of the breathing rose, 
 And quaff the pendant vintage as it grows. 
 Proud of the yoke, and pliant to the rod, 
 Why yet does Asia dread a monarch's nod, 
 While European freedom still withstands 
 Th' encroaching tide that drowns her less'ning lands, 
 And sees far off, with an indignant groan, 
 Her native plains and empires once her own ? 
 Can opener skies and suns of fiercer flame 
 O'erpower the fire that animates our frame, 
 As lamps that shed at eve a cheerful ray 
 Fade and expire beneath the eye of day ? 
 Need we the influence of the northern star 
 To string our nerves, and steel our hearts to war? 
 
EDUCATION AND GOVERNMENT. 409 
 
 And where the face of nature laughs around, 
 Must sick'ning Virtue fly the tainted ground 
 Unmanly thought ! what seasons can control, 
 What fancied zone can circumscribe the soul, 
 Who conscious of the source from whence it springs 
 By Reason's light on Resolution's wings, 
 Spite of her frail companion, dauntless goes 
 O'er Lybia's deserts and through Zembla's snows 1 
 She bids each slumbering energy awake, 
 Another touch, another temper take, 
 Suspends th' inferior laws that rule our day: 
 The stubborn elements confess her sway, 
 Their little wants their low desires refine, 
 And raise the mortal to a height divine. 
 
 Not but the human fabric from the birth 
 Imbibes a flavour of its parent earth: 
 As various tracks enforce a various toil, 
 The manners speak the idiom of their soil. 
 An iron race the mountain-cliffs maintain, 
 Foes to the gentler genius of the plain; 
 For where unwearied sinews must be found 
 With sidelong plough to quell the flinty ground, 
 To turn the torrent's swift descending flood, 
 To brave the savage rushing from the wood, 
 What wonder if to patient valour train'd, 
 They guard with spirit what by strength they gain' J ? 
 And while their rocky ramparts round they see, 
 The rough abode of want and liberty 
 (As lawless force from confidence will grow), 
 Insult the plenty of the vales below ? 
 What wonder in the sultry climes that spread 
 Where Nile redundant o'er his summer-bed 
 From his broad bosom life and verdure flings, 
 And broods o'er Egypt with his wat'ry wings, 
 If with adventurous oar and ready sail 
 The dusky people drive before the gale, 
 Or on frail floats to neighbouring cities ride, 
 That rise and glitter o'er the ambient tide] 
 
410 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF "AGRIPPINA:" A FRAGMENT. 
 ACT i. SCENE i. 
 
 PERSONS. Agrippina, the Empress-Mother, and Aceronia, 
 her confidante. 
 
 AGRIPPINA. 
 
 'Tis well, begone ! your errand is performed: 
 
 [Speaks as to Anicetus entering. 
 The message needs no comment. Tell your master 
 His mother shall obey him. Say you saw her 
 Yielding due reverence to his high command: 
 Alone, unguarded, and without a lictor, 
 As fits the daughter of Germanicus, 
 Say, she retired to Antium, there to tend 
 Her household cares, a woman's best employment. 
 What if you add, how she turn'd pale, and trembled; 
 You think you spied a tear stand in her eye, 
 And would have dropp'd, but that her pride restrain'd it ? 
 (Go ! you can paint it well) 'twill profit you 
 And please the stripling. Yet 'twould dash his joy 
 To hear the spirit of Britannicus 
 Yet walks on earth: at least, there are who know 
 Without a spell to raise, and bid it fire 
 A thousand haughty hearts, unused to shake 
 When a boy frowns, nor to be lured with smiles, 
 To taste of hollow kindness, or partate 
 His hospitable board: they ate, aware* 
 Of the unpledged bowl they love not aconite. 
 
 ACERONIA. 
 
 He's gone; and much I hope these walls alone 
 And the mute air are privy to your passion! 
 Forgive your servant's fears, who sees the danger 
 Which fierce resentment cannot fail to raise 
 In haughty youth, and irritated power. 
 
THE TRAGEDY OP AGRIPPINA. 411 
 
 AGKIPPINA. 
 
 And dost thou talk to me, to me, of danger, 
 Of haughty youth, and irritated power ? 
 To her that gave it being, her that arm'd 
 This painted Jove, and taught his novice hand 
 To aim the fork'd bolt, whilst he stood trembling, 
 Scared at the sound, and dazzled at its brightness? 
 'Tis like, thou hast forgot, when yet a stranger 
 To adoration, to the grateful steam 
 Of flattery's incense and obsequious vows 
 From voluntary realms, a puny boy, 
 Deck'd with no other lustre than the blood 
 Of Agrippina's race, he lived unknown 
 To fame or fortune; haply eyed at distance 
 Some edileship, ambitious of the power 
 To judge of weights and measures; scarcely dared 
 On Expectation's strongest wing to soar 
 High as the consulate, that empty shade jf S 
 
 Of long forgotten liberty, when I 
 Oped his young eye to bear the blaze of greatness, 
 Show'd him where empire tower'd, and bade him strike 
 The noble quarry^ Gods ! then was the time 
 To shrink from danger; Fear might then have worn 
 The mask of Prudence: but a heart like mine, 
 A heart that glows with the pure Julian fire, 
 If bright Ambition from her craggy seat 
 Display the radiant prize, will mount undaunted, 
 Gain the rough heights, and grasp the dangerous honour 
 
 ACEROJTIA. 
 
 Through various life I have pursued your steps, 
 Have seen your soul, and wondered at its daring; 
 Hence rise my fears. Nor am I yet to learn 
 How vast the debt of gratitude which Nero 
 To such a mother owes: the world you gave him, 
 Suffices not to pay the obligation. 
 I well remember too (for I was present), 
 When in a secret and dead hour of night, 
 2 E 
 
412 THE TRAGEDY OP AQRIPPINA. 
 
 Due sacrifice performed with barbarous rites 
 
 Of muttered charms and solemn invocation, 
 
 You bade the magi call the dreadful Powers, 
 
 That read futurity, to know the fate 
 
 Impending o'er your son. Their answer was, 
 
 If the son reign, the mother perishes. 
 
 " Perish," you cried, " the mother ! reign the son ! w 
 
 He reigns; the rest is Heaven's, which oft has bade, 
 
 Even when its will seem'd wrote in lines of blood, 
 
 Th* unthought event disclose a whiter meaning. 
 
 Think, too, how oft in weak and sickly minds 
 
 The sweets of kindness, lavishly indulged, 
 
 Rankle to gall; and benefits too great 
 
 To be repaid sit heavy on the soul 
 
 As unrequited wrongs. The willing homage 
 
 Of prostrate Rome, the senate's joint applause, <- 
 
 The riches of the earth, the train of pleasures 
 
 That wait on youth and arbitrary sway 
 
 These were your gift, and with them you bestow'd 
 
 The very power he has to be ungratefuL 
 
 AGRIPPINA. 
 
 Thus ever grave and undisturbed Reflection 
 Pours its cool dictates in the madding ear 
 Of Rage, and thinks to quench the fire it feels not. 
 Say*st thou, I must be cautious, must be silent 
 And tremble at the phantom I have raised ? 
 Carry to him thy timid counsels: he 
 Perchance may heed 'em. Tell him, too, that one. 
 Who had such liberal power to give, may still 
 With equal power resume that gift,*nd raise 
 A tempest that shall shake its own creation 
 To its original atoms. Tell me ! say, 
 This mighty emperor, this dreaded hero, 
 Has he beheld the glittering front^f war? 
 Knows his soft ear the trumpet's thrilling voice, 
 And outcry of the battle 1 1 lave his limbs 
 Sweat under iron harness ? Is he not 
 
THE TRAGEDY OF AGRIPPINA. 413 
 
 The silken son of dalliance, nursed in ease 
 And pleasure's flowery lap ? Rubellius lives, 
 And Sylla has his friends, though school'd by fear 
 To bow the supple knee, and court the times 
 With shows of fair obeisance: and a call 
 Like mine, might serve belike to wake pretensions 
 Drowsier than theirs, who boast the genuine blood 
 Of our imperial house. 
 
 ACERONIA. 
 
 Did I not wish to check this dangerous passion, 
 I might remind my mistress that her nod 
 Can rouse eight hardy legions, wont to stem 
 With stubborn nerves the tide, and face the rigour 
 Of bleak Gerrnania's snows. Four, not less bravo, 
 .That in Armenia quell the Parthian force 
 Under the warlike Corbulo, by 3 r ou 
 Mark'd for their leader these, by ties confirmed, 
 Of old respect and gratitude, are yours. 
 Surely the Masians too, and those of Egypt, 
 Have not forgot your sire: The eye of Rome, 
 And the praetorian camp have long revered, 
 With custom'd awe, the daughter, sister, wife, 
 And mother of their Caesars. 
 
 AGRIPPINA. 
 
 Ha ! by Juno, 
 
 It bears a noble semblance. On this base 
 My great revenge shall rise; or say we sound 
 The trump of liberty; there will not want, 
 Even in the servile senate, ears to own 
 Her spirit-stirring voice; Soranus there, 
 And Cassius; Vetus too, and Thrasea, 
 Minds of the antique cast, rough, stubborn souls, 
 That struggle with the yoke. How shall the spark 
 Unquenchable, that glows within their breasts, 
 Blaze into freedom, when the idle herd 
 (Slaves from the womb, created but to stare 
 And bellow in the circus) yet will start, 
 
414 TUB TRAGEDY OF AGRIPPINA. 
 
 And shake 'em at the name of liberty, 
 Stung by a senseless word, a vain tradition, 
 As there were magic in it 1 Wrinkled beldames 
 Teach it then: grandchildren as somewhat rare 
 That anciently appeared; but when, extends 
 Beyond their chronicle. Oh ! 'tis a cause 
 To arm the hand of childhood, and rebrace 
 The slacken'd sinews of time-wearied age. 
 Yes, we may meet, ungrateful boy, we may 
 Again the buried Genius of old Rome 
 Shall from the dust uprear his reverend head, 
 Boused by the shout of millions: there before 
 His high tribunal thou and I appear. 
 Let majesty sit on thy awful brow, 
 And lighten from thy eye: around thee call 
 The gilded swarm that wantons in the sunshine 
 Of thy full favour: Seneca be there, 
 In gorgeous phrase of labour'd eloquence 
 To dress thy plea, and Burrhus strengthen it 
 With his plain soldier's oath, and honest seeming. 
 Against thee liberty and Agrippina: 
 The world, the prize; and fair befall the victors. 
 But soft ! why do I waste the fruitless hours 
 In threats unexecuted ? Haste thee, fly 
 These hated walls, that seem to mock my shame, 
 And cast me forth in duty to their lord ! 
 ACERONIA. 
 
 'Tis time we go; the sun is high advanced, 
 And, ere mid-day, Nero will come to Baia. 
 AGRIPPINA. 
 
 My thought aches at him; not the basilisk 
 More deadly to the sight, than is to me 
 The cool injurious eye of frozen kindness. 
 I will not meet its poison. Let him feel 
 Before he sees me. 
 
 ACERONIA. 
 
 Why then stays my sovereign, 
 Where he so soon may ? 
 
THE TRAGEDY OF AGRIPPINA. 415 
 
 AGRIPPINA. 
 
 Yes, I will be gone, 
 
 But not to Antium all shall be confessed, 
 Whatever the frivolous tongue of giddy fame 
 Has spread among the crowd; things that but whispered, 
 Have arch'd the hearer's brow, and riveted 
 His eyes in fearful ecstacy ! No matter 
 What, so J t be strange and dreadful sorceries, 
 Assassinations, poisoning the deeper 
 My guilt, the blacker his ingratitude. 
 And you, ye manes of ambition's victims, 
 Enshrined Claudius, with the pitied ghosts 
 Of Syllani, doom'd to early death 
 (Ye unavailing horrors, fruitless crimes !), 
 If from the realms of night my voice ye hear, 
 In lieu of penitence and vain remorse 
 Accept my vengeance ! Though by me ye bled, 
 He was the cause. My love, my fears for him, 
 Dried the soft springs of pity in my heart, 
 And froze them up with deadly cruelty. 
 Yet, if your injured shades demand my fate, 
 If murder cries for murder, blood for blood, 
 Let me not fall alone; but crush his pride, 
 And sink the traitor in his mother's ruin. 
 
 [ExewU. 
 
 SCENE n. 
 Ofho. Poppaea. 
 
 OTHO. 
 
 Thus far we're safe ! Thanks to the rosy queen 
 Of amorous thefts: and had her wanton son 
 Lent us his wings, we could not have beguiled 
 With more elusive speed the dazzled sight 
 Of wakeful jealousy. Be gay securely; 
 Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim'rous cloud 
 That hangs on thy clear brow. So Helen look'd, 
 So her white neck reclined, so was she borne 
 
416 ON VICISSITUDE. 
 
 By the young Trojan to his gilded bark 
 With fond reluctance, yielding modesty, 
 And oft reverted eye, as if she knew not 
 Whether she feared, or wish'd to be pursued. 
 
 ON VICISSITUDE. 
 
 Now the golden morn aloft 
 
 Waves her dew bespangled wing, 
 With vermeil cheek, and whisper soft, 
 
 She woos the tardy spring; 
 Till April starts, and calls around 
 The sleeping fragrance from the ground, 
 And lightly o'er the living scene 
 Scatters his freshest, tenderest green. 
 New-born flocks, in rustic dance, 
 
 Frisking ply then: feeble feet; 
 Forgetful of their wintry trance, 
 
 The birds his presence greet: 
 But chief the skylark warbles high 
 His trembling thrilling ecstacy, 
 And, lessening from the dazzled sight, 
 Melts into air and liquid light. 
 Yesterday the sullen year 
 
 Saw the snowy whirlwind fly; 
 Mute was the music of the air, 
 
 The herd stood drooping by: 
 Their raptures now that wildly flow, 
 No yesterday, nor morrow know; 
 *Tis man alone that joy descries 
 With forward and reverted eyes. 
 Smiles on past Misfortune's brow 
 
 Soft Reflection's hand can trace, 
 And o'er the cheek of Sorrow throw 
 
 A melancholy grace; 
 
AN IMITATION FROM THE GODODIN. 41"; 
 
 While Hope prolongs our happier hour, 
 Or deepest shades, that dimly lower 
 And blacken round our weary way, 
 Gilds with a gleam of distant day. 
 
 Still, where rosy Pleasure leads, 
 
 See a kindred Grief pursue; 
 Behind the steps that Misery treads 
 
 Approaching Comfort view: 
 The hues of bliss more brightly glow, 
 Chastised by sabler tints of wo; 
 And blended form, with artful strife, 
 The strength and harmony of Me. 
 
 See the wretch, that long has tost 
 
 On the thorny bed of pain, 
 At length repair his vigour lost, 
 
 And breathe, and walk again: 
 The meanest flowret of the vale, 
 The simplest note that swells the gale, 
 The common sun, the air, the skies, 
 To him are sweetest Paradise. 
 
 Humble Quiet builds her cell 
 Near the course where Pleasure flows; 
 
 She eyes the clear crystalline well, 
 And tastes it as it goes. 
 
 AN IMITATION FROM THE GODODIN.* 
 Have ye seen the tusky boar, 
 Or the bull with sullen roar, 
 On surrounding foes advance ? 
 So Caradoc bore his lance. 
 Conan's name, my lay rehearse, 
 Build to him the lofty verse, 
 
 * See " The Death of Hoel," p. 497. 
 
418 TRANSLATION OP A PASSAGE FROM STATIUS. 
 
 Sacred tribute of the bard, 
 Verse, tho hero's sole reward ! 
 As the flame's devouring force, 
 As the whirlwind in its course, 
 As the thunder's fiery stroke 
 Glancing on the shiver'd oak, 
 Did the sword of Conan mow 
 The crimson harvest of the foe. 
 
 TRANSLATION OF A PASSAGE FROM STATIUS.* 
 
 Third hi the labours of the Disc came on, 
 With sturdy step and slow, Hippomedon ; 
 Artful and strong, he poised the well-known weight, 
 By Phlegyas warn'd, and fired by Mnestheus 1 fate, 
 That to avoid, and this to emulate. 
 His vigorous arm he tried before he flung, 
 Braced all his nerves, and every sinew strung; 
 Then, with a tempest's whirl, and wary eye, 
 Pursued his cast, and hurl'd the orb on high. 
 The orb on high, tenacious of its course, 
 True to the mighty arm that gave it force, 
 Far overleaps all bound, and joys to see 
 Its ancient lord secure of victory. 
 The theatre's green height and woody wall 
 Tremble ere it precipitates its fall; 
 . The ponderous mass sinks in the cleaving ground, 
 While vales, and woods, and echoing hills rebound: 
 As when from ^Etna's smoking summit broke, 
 The eyeless Cyclops heaved the craggy rock, 
 Where Ocean frets beneath the dashing oar, 
 And parting surges round the vessel roar : 
 
 This was made by Mr Gray while at Cambridge, in the year 
 1786, and at the age of twenty. Mr Mason expressed his belief 
 that it was Gray's first attempt in English verae. 
 
HYMN TO IGNORANCE. 419 
 
 'Twas there he aim'd the meditated harm, 
 And scarce Ulysses 'scaped his giant arm. 
 A tiger's pride the victor bore away, 
 With native sports and artful labour gay: 
 A shining border round the margin roll'd, 
 And calm'd the terrors of his claws in gold. 
 
 HYMN TO IGNORANCE* 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 Hail, horrors, hail ! ye ever gloomy bowers, 
 Ye gothic fanes, and antiquated towers, 
 Where rushy Camus' slowly-winding flood 
 Perpetual draws his humid train of mud: 
 Glad I revisit thy neglected reign, 
 Oh, take me to thy peaceful shade again ! 
 
 But chiefly thee, whose influence breathed from high, 
 Augments the native darkness of the sky; 
 Ah, Ignorance ! soft salutary Power ! 
 Prostrate with filial reverence I adore. 
 Thrice hath Hyperion roll'd his annual race, 
 Since weeping I forsook thy fond embrace. 
 Oh say, successful dost thou still oppose 
 Thy leaden segis 'gainst our ancient foes ? 
 Still stretch, tenacious of thy right divine, 
 The massy sceptre o'er thy slumbering line ? 
 And dews Lethean through the land dispense, 
 To steep in slumbers each benighted sense 2 
 If any spark of wit's delusive ray 
 Break out, and flash a momentary day, 
 With damp, cold touch forbid it to aspire, 
 And huddle up in fogs the dangerous fire. 
 
 Oh say she hears me not, but, careless grown, 
 Lethargic nods upon her ebon throne. 
 
 * This is supposed to have been written about the year 1742, 
 the time when Mr Gray returned to Cambridge. 
 
420 SONNET. 
 
 Goddess ! awake, arise, alas my fears ! 
 Can powers immortal feel the force of years ? 
 Not thus of old, with ensigns wide unfurl'd, 
 She rode triumphant o'er the vanquish'd world; 
 Fierce nations own'd her unresisted might, 
 And all was Ignorance, and all was Night. 
 
 Oh ! sacred ages ! times for ever lost ! 
 (The Schoolman's glory, and the Churchman's boast), 
 For ever gone yet still to Fancy new, 
 Her rapid wings the transient scene pursue, 
 And bring the buried ages back to view. 
 
 High on her car, behold the Grandam ride 
 Like old Sesostris with barbaric pride; 
 * * * a team of harness'd monarchs bend 
 
 SONNET 
 
 ON THE DEATH OP MB RICHARD WEST.* 
 
 In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine, 
 
 And redd'ning Phoebus lifts his golden fire; 
 The birds in vain their amorous descant join, 
 
 Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. 
 These ears, alas ! for other notes repine, 
 
 A different object do these eyes require: 
 My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; 
 
 And in my breast th' imperfect joys expire. 
 Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer, 
 
 And new-born pleasures bring to happier men: 
 The fields to all their wonted tribute bear: 
 
 To warm their little loves the birds complain. 
 I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, 
 
 And weep the more, because I weep in vain. 
 
 Only son of the Right Hon. Richard West, Lord Chancellor 
 of Ireland. He died June 1, 1742, in the 26th year of his age. 
 
421 
 EPITAPH 
 
 ON MRS CLARKE.* 
 
 Lo ! where this silent marble weeps, 
 
 A Friend, a Wife, a Mother sleeps: 
 
 A heart within whose sacred cell 
 
 The peaceful Virtues loved to dwell. 
 
 Affection warm, and Faith sincere^ 
 
 And soft Humanity were there. 
 
 In agony, in death resigned, 
 
 She felt the wound she left behind. 
 
 Her infant Image here below 
 
 Sits smiling on a father's wo: 
 
 Whom what awaits, while yet he strays 
 
 Along the lonely vale of days 1 
 
 A pang, to secret sorrow dear; 
 
 A sigh; an unavailing tear; 
 
 Till Time shall every grief remove, 
 
 With life, with memory, and with love 
 
 EPITAPH 
 ON SIR WILLIAM PEBRE WILLIAMS, 
 
 CAPTAIN IN BURGOYNE'S DRAGOONS. 
 Here, foremost in the dangerous paths of fame, 
 
 Young Williams fought for England's fair renown; 
 His mind each Muse, each Grace adorn'd his frame, 
 Nor Envy dared to view him with a frown. 
 
 At Aix, his voluntary sword he drewit 
 There first in blood his infant honour seal'd; 
 
 From fortune, pleasure, science, love, he flew, 
 And scorn'd repose when Britain took the field. 
 
 * The wife of Dr Clarke, physician at Epsom, died April 27, 
 1757, and is buried in the church of Beckenham, Kent. 
 
 t In the expedition to Aix, he was on board the Magnanime, 
 with Lord Howe; and was deputed to receive the capitulation. 
 
422 STANZAS TO MB BENTLEY. 
 
 With eyes of flame, and cool undaunted breast, 
 Victor he stood on Bell isle's rocky steeps 
 
 Ah, gallant youth ! this marble tells the rest, 
 Where melancholy Friendship bends and weeps. 
 
 STANZAS TO ME BENTLEY* 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 In silent gaze the tuneful choir among, 
 
 Half pleased, half blushing, let the Muse admire, 
 While Bentley leads her Sister- Art along, 
 
 And bids the pencil answer to the lyre. 
 See, in their course, each transitory thought 
 
 Fix'd by his touch a lasting essence take; 
 Each dream, in Fancy's airy colouring wrought, 
 
 To local symmetry and life awake ! 
 
 The tardy rhymes that used to linger on, 
 To censure cold, and negligent of fame, 
 
 In swifter measures animated run, 
 And catch a lustre from his genuine flame. 
 
 Ah ! could they catch his strength, his easy grace, 
 His quick creation, his unerring line; 
 
 The energy of Pope they might efface, 
 And Dryden's harmony submit to mine. 
 
 But not to one in this benighted age 
 
 Is that diviner inspiration given 
 That burns in Shakspere's or in Milton's page 
 
 The pomp and prodigality of heaven: 
 
 As when conspiring in the diamond's blaze, 
 The meaner gems, that singly charm the sight, 
 
 Together dart their intermingled rays, 
 And dazzle with a luxury of light. 
 
 * Mr Bentley had made a set of designs for Mr Gray's poems. 
 
AMATORY LINES. 423 
 
 Enough for me, if to some feeling breast 
 
 My lines a secret sympathy impart; 
 And as their pleasing influence flows confessed* 
 
 A sigh of soft reflection heave the heart* 
 
 S N G.t 
 
 Thyrsis, when he left me, swore 
 In the spring he would return 
 
 Ah ! what means the opening flower, 
 And the bud that decks the thorn. 
 
 'Twas the nightingale that sung ! 
 
 'Twas the lark that upward sprung ! 
 
 Idle notes ! untimely green ! 
 
 Why such unavailing haste ? 
 Gentle gales and sky serene 
 
 Prove not always whiter past. 
 Cease, my doubts, my fears to move, 
 Spare the honour of my love. 
 
 AMATORY LINES.! 
 
 With Beauty, with Pleasure surrounded, to languish 
 To weep, without knowing the cause of my anguish 
 To start from short slumbers, and wish for the morning 
 To close my dull eyes when I see it returning 
 Sighs sudden and frequent, looks ever dejected, 
 Words that steal from my tongue, by no meaning connected- 
 Ah, say, fellow-swains, how these symptoms befell me ? 
 They smile, but reply not sure DELIA CAN TELL ME ! 
 
 * The words in italic were supplied by Mr Mason. 
 
 f Written, at the request of Miss Speed, to an old air of Ge- 
 miniani: the idea is from the French. 
 
 J This jeu d'esprit was found among the MSS. of Gray, and 
 printed in a note in the second volume of Warton's edition of 
 Pope. 
 
424 
 TOPIIET* 
 
 AN EPIGRAM. 
 
 Thus Tophet look'd; so grinn'd the brawling fiend, 
 Whilst frighted prelates bow'd, and calTd him friend. 
 Our Mother- Church, with half-averted sight, 
 Blush'd as she bless'd her grizzly proselyte; 
 Hosannas rung through hell's tremendous borders, 
 And Satan's self had thoughts of taking orders. 
 
 IMPROMPTU, 
 
 Suggested by a View, in 1766, of the Seat and Ruins of a 
 Deceased Nobleman, at Kingsgate, Kent. 
 
 Old, and abandon'd by each venal friend, 
 Here H dt form'd the pious resolution 
 
 To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend 
 A broken character and constitution. 
 
 On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice: 
 
 Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring sand; 
 
 Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice, 
 And mariners, though shipwreck'd, dread to lan-1. 
 
 Here reign the blustering North and blighting East, 
 No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing; 
 
 Yet nature could not furnish out the feast, 
 Art he invokes new horrors still to bring. 
 
 * Mr Etough, of Cambridge University, the person satirised, 
 was as remarkable for the eccentricities of his character, as for 
 his personal appearance. A Mr Tyson, of Benet College, made 
 an etching of his head, and presented it to Mr Gray, who at- 
 1 to it the above lines. Some information respecting Mr 
 Etough (who was rector of Therfield, Herts, and of Colm- 
 worth, Bedfordshire), may be found in the " Gentleman's Ma- 
 gazine," Vol. Ivi., pp. 25, 281. 
 
 t Henry Fox, first Lord Holland. 
 
IMPROMPTU. 425 
 
 Here mouldering fanes and battlements arise, 
 Turrets and arches nodding to their fall, 
 
 Unpeopled monasteries delude our eyes, 
 And mimic desolation covers all. 
 
 "Ah ! " said the sighing peer, "had B te been true,* 
 Nor M 's, R 's, B 's friendship vain, 
 
 Far better scenes than these had bless'd our view, 
 And realised the beauties which we feign: 
 
 Purged by the sword, and purified by fire, 
 Then had we seen proud London's hated walls: 
 
 Owls would have hooted in St Peter's choir, 
 And foxes stunk and litter'd in St PaulV 
 
 * Lord Bute. The other names are probably those of Murray, 
 Rigby, and Bedford. 
 
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