Salmagundi: A Miscellaneous Combination of Original Poetry

Front matter

SALMAGUNDI

A

OF

Illusions of Fancy

ILLUSIONS OF FANCY.

TO RICHARD WYATT, ESQ.

ON LEAVING HIS MANSION, AFTER ASCOT RACES.

——ME LUDIT AMABILIS INSANIA. HOR. LIB. 3. CARM. 4.

ILLUSIONS OF FANCY.

Congenial to my pensive breast, O'ershadowing clouds the skies invest; Fast falling showers deform the glade, No cheering ray dispels the shade, No lark's clear carol wakes the morn That low'ring bids my steps forlorn Abandon Surry's smiling plains, Fly the Lov'd Roof where Friendship reigns, Circling whose hospitable hearth Fair Freedom, Sense, and liberal Mirth, Their heart-enlivening influence shed; Where Time throws off his wings of lead, And, clad in purple plumage light, Speeds swifter than the winds his flight.

Thence, as my devious course I steer, Fancy, in fairy visions clear, Bids, to beguile my 'tranced eyes, Past joys in sweet succession rise: Refreshing airs she bids me breathe Where, Ascot, thine enchanting Heath, Impregnated with mild perfume, Bares its broad bosom's purple bloom: Gives me to view the splendid croud, The high-born racer neighing loud, The manag'd steeds that side by side Precede the glittering chariot's pride, Within whose silken coverture Some peerless Beauty fits secure, And, fatal to the soul's repose, Around her thrilling glances throws.

Hence, Fancy, wing thy rapid flight O'er oaks in deepest verdure dight,

Whose writhed limbs of giant mould Wave to the breeze their umbrage bold; OrphanRhinev2ch13-1Bear me, embowering shades between, Through many a glade and vista green, Whence silver streams are seen to glide, And towering domes th' horizon hide, To Leonard's forest-fringed Mound;a Where lavish Nature spreads around OrphanRhinev2ch13-2Whate'er can captivate the sight, Elysian lawns, and prospects As visions of expiring saints, Or scenes that Harcourt's pencil paints. Bear me where, 'midst enamell'd meads, Redundant Thames his bounty sheds, Teeming with many a plenteous freight: Where o'er the vale, in antique ftate Imperial Windsor's turrets frown, And massy fanes of old renown. Give me to gaze with ardent eye On gorgeous spoils of Chivalry;

To ken aloft the radiant rows Of banners won from Britain's foes: Recall the glorious deeds of yore; Shew the dark mail that Edward wore; The falchion shew, whose thund'ring stroke Cressy's pale ranks impetuous broke; From whose fell glare appall'd with dread Proud Gallia's trembling chieftains fled, Or on its edge destruction found, And dyed with regal gore the ground.

OrphanRhinev2ch13-3 Give me, fair Fancy, to pervade Chambers in pictur'd pomp array'd! Peopling whose stately walls I view The godlike forms that Raffaelle drew; I seem to see his magic hand Wield the wondrous pencil-wand, Whose touches animation give, And bid th' insensate canvass live;

Glowing with many a deed divine Achiev'd in holy Palestine. The Passions feel its potent charm, And round the mighty master swarm; Lo, where Dismay with haggard gazeb The death-smote Hypocrite surveys; Beholds his eyes convulsive roll, And Fate arrest his sordid soul!—

Lo! Motionless Attention stands,c Where to the firmament his hands. Sublime the great Instructor rears! While Athens, rapt in wonder, hears Truth's energetic voice proclaim Her unknown God's tremendous name!—

Deep read in superstition's lore, Behold capricious Zeal adored

(In sublunary weeds array'd) The fabled Gods her fears have made! "Those pow'rful sounds," she cries, "I know: "Hark! from the honied lips they flow "Of Maia's Son!—Can Man dispense "Activity to impotence? "Can energy of mortal hand. "The shrunk, distorted limb expand? "Inveterate force of ills confound, "And bid the lame with transport bound?— Tis Jove's,—the unexampled deed! "To Jove th' Isaurian Steer shall bleed! "To Jove the rich libations pour! "Braid in bright wreaths each blooming flow'r, "Swell each loud strain of festive mirth, "To gratulate the Gods on earth!"—

Artist supreme! by nature taught To clothe with life each glowing thought,

Too soon the Destinies conspire To quench thy pencil's glorious fire; Too soon the soul that warm'd thy clay Aspir'd to realms of endless day, On wings of ecstasy, to join Sages and saints, a band divine, Whose awful forms (ere death withdrew The veil that darkens mortal view) Heav'n bade thy penetrative eye Amid her dazzling courts descry; Thence bade thee trace the faultless line, Th' expressive grace, the chaste design, The mien that love and awe inspires, And wakes Devotion's purest fires. Thy memory, still to genius dear, Britain's enlighten'd sons revere; And grateful hail their Monarch's name, Whose liberal care thy labours claim: To heights impervious heretofore Who bids immortal science soar;

Far seen in venerable pride, Whose regal seat, expanding wide Its portals at his high behest, Hails ev'ry Art an honour'd guest: Beneath whose mild auspicious reign The Genius old of Greece again, Awaken'd from his deep repose, In Reynolds' living canvass glows; (Where Grace and Energy divine With Beauty truly blent combine) And braids his deathless bays around The British Raffaelle's brows renown'd. Lo! by his daring hand pourtray'd,e The sanguinary scene display'd Where martial peers, in glittering mail, Unfold their pennons to the gale; O'er Normandy's dismantled plains. Where iron-clad Contention reigns; And Havoc waits (his tresses wet With gore) thy nod, Plantagenet!

Wafted from Albion's Isle afar, Where wake her sons the storm of war; Where, ravish'd from the parent stem To grace the Victor's diadem, Thy Lilies, France, no more assume The splendour of their wonted bloom; No more with peerless lustre glow, But soil with blood their native snow!—

OrphanRhinev2ch5 Now o'er the braid from Fancy's loom The rich tints breathe a deeper gloom; While, consecrated domes beneath, Midst hoary shrines and caves of death, Secluded from the eye of day, She bids her pensive votary stray: Brooding o'er monumental cells, Where awe-diffusing Silence dwells; Save when along the lofty fane Devotion wakes her hallow'd strain,

When the vast Organ's breathing frame Echoes the voice of loud acclaim, And the deep diapason's sound Thunders the vaulted iles around. From the broad window's fretted height Streams the rich flood of mellow'd light, That bids the pav'd expanse below With hues of gold and crimson glow, Reflected from the gorgeous pane, Where picture holds her lasting reign: Where, in translucent glories dight, Celestial forms arrest the sight; Th' enraptur'd gazer's pow'rs control, And bathe in ecstasy the soul. While rang'd in reverend majesty, The taper shafts ascending high, To decorate the crisped roof, Their mingling branches shoot aloof; Where, blazon'd in projecting gold, Flame the proud crests of Barons bold.

Now beams on Fancy's eye no more The spangled roof, the polish'd floor, The speaking chrystal's various stain, Illumining the wondrous fane: Choirs, altars, shrines, illusive fade.— Enliv'ning Airs my sense invade; Encircled by the young and fair, The blithe Assembly's bliss I share; OrphanRhinev4ch12Swift o'er the lyre's harmonious strings His magic hand the minstrel flings; Obedient to the sprightly sound, The dancer's quivering feet rebound; Diffusing wide their silver rays, Aloft the sparkling lustres blaze; While milder emanations flow From love-enkindling orbs below. Here, peerless Cheshire, I behold Thy loose robe float in airy fold!

Tall as the pine's cerulean crest, Encircling plumes thy brows invest, Amid whose snowy summits high Insidious Cupids ambush'd lie. To each enchanting Grace allied, Here Fancy bids fair Bouverie glide, Light as the breath of opening morn O'er beds of unsunn'd violets borne; And every captive heart surprise, Unconscious of her victories. There Townshend threads the pleasing maze: Ah who can unenamour'd gaze! How shall my bosom freedom know Where Law's ingenuous beauties glow! Fresh as the spring, as Hebe fair, Where Egham sends a gentle Pair, And bids the charm'd affections hail The sister lilies of her Vale; Whose bloom disdains fictitious aid, Loveliest amid seclusion's shade.—

The measures cease—her tempting stores Around prolific Fancy pours; The sumptuous board, extended wide, Her visionary viands hide: Beauty and youth the banquet share— Hence to the winds intrusive Care! Fly, haggard Spleen, the glad abode Where holds his state the Rosy God! Where Cytherea, hand in hand, The Graces leads, a blissful band; Where Comus to his festive rites, To joy and genial cheer, invites; Where Frolic, Sport, and Jollity, Await their queen, Euphrosyne; And Love, around her hovering, Beats the light air with sapphire wing; With lustre shed from Beauty's eyes Gilds his gay vest of thousand dyes, Whose undulating folds dispense Cassia's ambrosial redolence.

Crown'd with each lovely charmer's name, I see the ruddy nectar flame! Latent amid th' inspiring draught Speeds the blind God his subtle shaft; And, while the flask his votary drains, Despotic in his bosom reigns; Whence, for the Nymph his soul admires, Th' involuntary sigh expires, And languor steals through every vein.— Now to the sprightly dance again! Wing'd with delight and melody, Swift let the jocund moments fly, Startling the sombrous reign of Night; 'Till, heav'n's blue arch ascending bright, Aurora the wide welkin streaks With roses, such as Chloe's cheeks Amid encircling snows reveal, When her soft palms love's pressure feel. Till Sol his steeds of golden hoof Drives through revolving spheres aloof;

And wakes the blooms that odours breathe, Enliv'ning earth and air beneath; And o'er old Ocean's boundless deeps His regal robe of glory sweeps. Then home they hie, and, warm with wine, Still, as they press the couch supine, See fairy-visions round them float, Lift the soft lyre's imperfect note, Exhaust th' imaginary vase, Fair forms in faultering measures chase, Catch from bright eyes the melting beam, And of Ideal Transports dream.

O Fancy! blest Enchantress, deign Still to prolong thy blissful reign! Frequent to sooth my languid sense, Thy visionary balm dispense! Invest in varying colours bright Each grateful scene of past delight!

Sweet dalliance let me hold with Thee, Eftrang'd from sad reality!

O deign to cheer my humble cell! Thence grave Parochial Cares expel: Shield me from Swathed Infants' scream, And clouds of suffocating steam That from the Gossip's bowl exhale, Mix'd with Tobacco's potent gale! From Undertakers' gloomy brows, From Overseers' important bows, From ruthless Sexton's lethal face, And Beadles bristled o'er with lace! Shield me from puritanic cant Of faded Maids, who matins haunt;f And, lowering o'er each lonely pew, At once their sins and wrinkles rue! My trembling ears, O Fancy, save From Sternhold's inharmonious stave!

From the sad Brief's unpitied tale, From Exposition trite and stale, And many an opiate Inference! Shield me from sounds at strife with sense! From Pedantry of formal port, And Consequence in Cassoc short!—

So, Goddess, thy propitious Shall Time's ungenial flight beguile; Wake into joy my torpid hours, And strew life's barren path with flow'rs. Nor shall the kindred Muse decline To blend her simple blooms with thine; Blest, if the wreath by Fancy wove Kind Friendship's partial voice approve; Nor sigh for unsubstantial bays If Wyatt's plaudit crown her lays.

Errata

Amatory Odes: Ode I.

AMATORY ODES.

ODE I.

Let the sons of Lucre pine For glittering heaps of golden ore, To swell th' accumulated store Contemn the terrors of the mine; Explore the caverns dark and drear Mantled around with deadly dew; Where congregated vapours blue, Fir'd by the taper glimmering near, Bid dire explosion the deep realms invade,

Pride, on thy vesture's purple fold Let the sky-tinctured sapphire blaze, The emerald shed its milder rays, And rubies blush in circling gold:

Low at thy nod let suppliants bow, And crested chiefs precedence yield; Thy hand the rod of empire wield, And wreaths of triumph grace thy brow.— A nobler aim let my ambition own,

Where into rage the wintry blast Awakes old Ocean's Let Commerce urge her busy slave; And elevate his trembling mast Above the billowy precipice, To meet the forked light'ning's flash; Then down th' advent'rous vessel dash, Found'ring within the black abyss: Or let his freight secure the surges sweep,

My bark the tide of young desire, O Venus, to thy happy realm Shall waft, fair Hope direct the helm, Love's sighs the swelling sails inspire: To Thee, bright Offspring of the wave, I'll many an amorous vow prefer: From storms of hate thy mariner And blast of chill indiff'rence save! So to thy pow'r I'll frame the votive lay,

Amid ensanguin'd fields of War, Valour, be thy Votary found; Where crimson banners wave around The martial clarion, echoing far; In vain gigantic Terror calls His spectre shapes, a ghastly band:— Nor Discord, hurling high his brand, Nor Danger's horrid front appals;

Nor Death his fierce unconquer'd soul can tame,

But let me wander far away From the loud drum and neighing steed, Thro' many a pansie-painted mead, Where Isis' bright-hair'd Naiads stray; High o'er my head a pendant bow'r Let the broad elm and branching pine With intermingling umbrage twine; There Love's impassion'd song I'll pour, And summon every wave that dances near,

Where the pale lamp's waining eye At eve, from out the cloyster'd nook Casts a lingering look, There let the Sage his labours ply;

And many a feat of Champion bold, And many a legendary rhime Snatch from the Sepulchre of Time; And frequent, as the night grows old, At fear-engender'd forms recoil aghast,

But o'er my haunts with influence bland Let ev'ning fling her welcome shade: Then mid the dance, O beauteous maid! Let me thine un-reluctant hand Enraptur'd seize:—or let the Lyre, Obedient to thy soft control, Bind in harmonious chains my soul, And ecstasy and bliss inspire; While to the charmed ear in heav'nly strains,

Then, Fairest, let my bosom feel Thy smile's exhilarating pow'r, Grateful as, mid noon's sultry hour, The Grot where trickling dews congeal: And, in the rich grape's purple tide When Joy and genial Pleasure swim, Do Thou but kiss its chrystal brim, And, to thy bard the goblet guide; So shall my song exalt thy praise above

Errata

Amatory Odes: Ode II.

ODE II.

Now hath the Sun his evanescent fires Quench'd in the billows of the western main; Cease their soft carols all the feather'd choirs, And gloomy solitude usurps the plain.

Rife, ye deep shades, ye waves in darkness roll, Ye feather'd choirs to silence yield the grove, For Lesbia sleeps:—nor cheers my pensive soul The glance of rapture, nor the voice of love.

Ye Winds, whose havoc-spreading pinions ply Their furious speed, and with dire yell invade This nether world, whose wasteful tyranny Pale Dryads mourn in many a ruin'd shade;

Wake not my Love:—Let not your thund'ring cry With dread alarm the haunt of peace infest; Here breathe in soft Æolian melody Each cadence sweet that charms the soul to rest.

Ye Spectres (whom belated pilgrims fear, Issuing in throngs from charnel, vault, or tomb, What time deep-shadowing clouds thy radiant sphere, Cynthia, involve in night's meridian gloom,)

Hence to deserted fane or mouldering hall, Or the gaunt felon's ruthless course control; With monitory shriek the wretch appal, And to compunction wake his torpid soul.

But walk not near the couch where Lesbia lies Like some rich pearl in its enamell'd shell, Or sainted relic, from profaner eyes Secluded in the dim shrine's silver cell.

Wanton, ye Fairies, round her tranquil bow'r, With blissful elves fantastic measures tread; O'er her soft eyelids dews of opiate pow'r, Cull'd from choice blooms, in show'rs of fragrance shed:

Let your bright tapers' visionary ray The raven-tinctur'd robe of Night illume; And, streaming o'er your spangled crests, display The wave-enamour'd halcyon's emerald plume.

And bid your Minstrel-Fays, a shadowy choir, That charm the planets from their sphere sublime,

Celestial songs, that love and joy inspire, Chant to their golden harmonious chime.

And, when morn's purple streaks th' horizon stain, And Fairies fly the peal of Chanticleer, Let Fancy still your glittering hues retain, Still let your wild notes tremble on her ear.—

Then, Lesbia, wake thy beauties, fresher far Than Galatea boasted when she lav'd In the smooth Deep her coral-axled car, And the stern heart of Neptune's son enslav'd.

Wake at His Call, to sooth whose soul in vain Morn sheds her radiant beam, her od'rous airs, Save when, attentive to his artless strain, That radiant beam, those odours Lesbia shares.

He asks no laureate wreath to deck his brows, No golden meed his bounded wishes claim, Blest if the Object of his tenderest vows Smile on his lay—for Lesbia's smile is Fame.

Errata

Amatory Odes: Ode III.

ODE III.

Fate gave with unrelenting speed to fly The genial hours that Love and Lesbia bless'd; Sad, on her ear I pour'd the parting sigh, Sad, on her hand the parting kiss impress'd.

Nor Lesbia, generous maid, her hand withdrew, Nor did her ear disdain the parting sigh; Swift to her check the living crimson flew, Soft pity fill'd her breast and sympathy.

There all the gentle Charities reside With liberal Sentiment and chaste Desire, And banish cold Reserve and ruthless Pride, That bid Affection's trembling flame expire.

"Farewell the Bard,"—she cried—"whose grateful Muse "Bade many a vocal shade my name resound: "And, rich in Fancy's visionary hues, "With many a fairy wreath my tresses bound:

"Still on those artless wreaths shall Lesbia smile, "Still shall her partial voice applaud thy lay, "Bid unexpected joy thy cares beguile, "And Hope's pure radiance gild each rising day."—

Ah! far from Love, from Lesbia, doom'd to fly, Cheerless and sad I trace life's gloomy scene, And saintly Hope's far distant ray descry, While clouds and darkness fill the void between!

The seaman thus the Beacon's friendly fires Dejected views, while the black billows swell, And from the haven that his soul desires Remorseless winds his labouring bark repel.

What lenitive can ease the bosom's pain, What charm the fever of the mind remove? Can Solitude, can Silence, break the chain That's forg'd by friendship, sympathy, and love?

Then let me shun the Day-star's glittering beam And seek in solitary glens repose: O'er the rush'd margin of some lingering stream, Where the broad oak his grateful umbrage throws.

Or thro' some Cloyster's dim recesses rove, O'er hollow sounding vaults and cells of death;

To all the soft anxieties of love Insensible as those that sleep beneath.

Delusive hope!—Say, where the solitude That to intrusive Love access denies? Say, where the hallow'd haunt whose glooms exclude Lesbia's enchanting form from Fancy's eyes?—

Then bid the flood that swells the wanton vine O'erflow the lucid vase with roses crown'd; Prepare the feast—and let the God of wine Bathe with his purple balm my amorous wound!

Let the ripe cluster's animating tide Pervade with genial flow my languid frame, Till Passion's sad solicitudes subside, Till fades, all pow'rful Love, thy fatal flame.

Ah! midst the Sons of Revelry in vain Thy captive, Lesbia, struggles to be free! God of the grape, thy goblets while I drain, Still sways my breast Love's mightier Deity!—

Let Harmony from her enchanting shell Pour the sweet Note that sooths affliction's sigh: Now the full chord's deep modulation swell, Now wake the joy-inspiring symphony;

Such as resounding from thy golden strings, Divine Alcæus, charm'd Hell's shadowy throng; While combatants renown'd and vanquish'd kings Fir'd the bold strains of thine immortal song.g

Say, could the voice of melody subdue The pangs that tortur'd Ghosts were doom'd to bear, And lull to strange repose the Serpent-crew That hiss, Alecto, in thine iron hair?

Then let the cares that rend a Lover's breast The magic of that voice resistless prove.— Still breathes th' enamour'd Bard his fond request In vain—for Music is the food of Love.

OrphanRhinev3ch7-1In each wild song that wakes the vale around My Fair-one's fascinating voice I hear; And Fancy bids the soft lute's silver sound Waft her mild accents to my ravish'd ear.

Sweet the wild song that wakes the valley,—Sweet Warbles the soft lute's melancholy note:

But with richer melody replete From Lesbia's lips on gales of fragrance float.—

Not Music, Wine, nor Solitude, can quell The tumults that this bleeding bosom knows. Then visit, God of Sleep, my pensive cell, And to my soul restore its lost repose!

Auspicious to my pray'r the gloomy God Bids the deep shadows of the Night arise; O'er my lone couch extends his sable rod, And seals with opiate charm his suppliant's eyes.

Ah! whence That Virgin Bloom, on night's dun pall Whose glance with pity's mild effulgence beams? Fair Sov'reign of my soul, at Fancy's call, 'Tis Lesbia comes to bless her Poet's dreams!

(Dazzling the Phrygian Boy's enraptur'd sight Not Venus 'self with charms that rivall'd thine, 'Mid the broad shades of Ida's piny height To beauty's meed preferr'd her claim divine!)

She beckons me thro' Fairy glades to stray, O'er sands of gold where liquid chrystal roves; Where drinks unclouded Summer's genial ray Incense exhal'd from aromatic Groves:

Where, o'er each shadowy dell and oak-crown'd steep, Celestial forms in bright succession glide; Where light-train'd Nymphs th' unbending blossoms sweep, Or rise in radiance from the tranquil tide:

Where, Lesbia, as I raise the song to Thee, The list'ning Fauns their antic dance refrain, And dulcet sounds of airy minstrelsy From harps unseen accompany the strain.

And while th' impassion'd lay thy praises breathes Each ruder gale subsides, th' expanding flow'rs More lavish sweets dispense, and living wreaths Of brighter green array the magic bow'rs.

And Love, light hovering in the balmy air, Fires his proud torch and nerves his golden bow, And braids his roseate bands for Thee, my Fair, And bids thy breast his gentlest transports know.

Thine eyes confess his pow'r:—Stay waining Night! Start not, Hyperion, from thine orient goal!

Ye blisful dreams, ye visions of delight, Ye dear delusions, still possess my soul!

Dissolving at th' unwelcome gleam of dawn, The Spell that sway'd my captive sense expires.— No liquid chrystal laves the fairy lawn; No viewless Minstrels wake celestial lyres;

No spicy groves unfading foliage spread; Beneath their nectarine freight no branches bend; No Sylvan bands fantastic measures tread; No pearl-crown'd Sisters from the wave ascend.

The laughing meads where flow'rs spontaneous grew, The landscape's various grace, the genial skies, In cloudless azure dress'd, elude my view; And glowing Fancy's fair creation dies.

But thou, blest Object of my hopes and fears, Still shall the Muse's living meed be thine, While Grace enchants, while Gentleness endears, While admiration bends at Beauty's shrine:

OrphanRhinev3ch7-2Deep grav'n by Love thine image ne'er shall fade While Memory in my breast maintains her seat; And when for Thee it beats not, Lovely Maid! Each trembling pulse of life shall cease to beat.

Erratum

Amatory Odes: Ode IV. To Lesbia's Lute.

ODE IV.

TO LESBIA'S LUTE.

Ye trembling strings, from whose vibration flows Joy's thrilling tide and sadly pleasing woe: Soothing the sense, yet to the soul's repose Destructive as the Nerve of Cupid's Bow!

With gentlest melody in Lesbia's ear (If any mortal sounds have pow'r to tell) Whisper how much I hope—how much I fear— The pity I implore—the pains I feel.

When her fleet touch calls forth th' enlivening strain Bid rapture float upon the charmed air: Tell her, when sad th' expressive notes complain: "So breathes thy bard the sigh of deep despair."

Of yore such sounds, as thrill th' enamour'd breast When Lesbia's hands the silver chords embrace, Could lull th' embattled elements to rest, Bend knotted oaks, and tame a ruthless race;

Yet, Lesbia! like thy lute tho' Orpheus strung His lyre to strains divine, its amorous lord For Thee had left Euridice unsung, And Pluto's gloomy confines unexplor'd.

Amatory Odes: Ode V. To the Naiad of Glympton Brook

ODE V.

TO THE NAIAD OF GLYMPTON BROOK.

Naiad, unseen of mortal eyes, Whose light steps haunt this current lone, Where gentle Zephyr's balmy sighs, With thy wild wave in unison, Blend their aërial melodies;

Let me to thy deserted shades Reveal the never-dying flame That all my pensive soul pervades, And teach thine echoes Lesbia's name E'er the soft light of evening fades!

Unheard, unnotic'd, let me rove Thy trembling osier wreaths among,

And woo the Muse where none reprove Affection's unambitious song, Nor chide the plaint of hopeless love.

There, when the Day's dim eyelids close, Hide me within some shadowy cave; And, ministring to calm repose, Oh softly bid thy babbling wave Kiss the dank sedge that round it grows!

No Angler's cruel arts are mine, Ye timid Tenants of the brook! Wrought by my hand no viewless line, Disguis'd by me no treacherous hook, Bids you your little lives resign.

Nor this pellucid rill refrain To sip, Ye Minstrels of the air! Your downy plumage to distain With blood no fatal Tube I bear, Nor pay with death your artless strain.

That Breast no savage sports can share, Where glow Affection's generous fires: Soft Pity finds her mansion there, All whom the breath of life inspires By her own sorrows taught to spare.

Mine, Gentle Naiad, be the dell Whose clear stream laves thy chrystal grot: Near its green margin let me dwell, By all but One dear Maid forgot, And bid a world of cares farewell.

Oft let me view thy trembling tide Chequer'd with Cynthia's silver light, What time, in Fancy's train descried, Before my fascinated sight Past Joy's illusive phantoms glide.

Hopeless of happier hours to come, No more array'd in flattering hues For me the buds of Pleasure bloom: Yet deigns, at Fancy's call, the Muse To gild Affliction's deepening gloom.

With Lesbia's praise the strain shall glow; Oh may she taste each bliss supreme That Hope can paint, or Love bestow; And calm as Glym's sequester'd stream May her life's gentle current flow!

Wind, Lovely Brook, thy murmuring way, Still with my sorrows sympathize: So may thy banks fresh flow'rs inlay, Thy waves in rich redundance rise, Mild Zephyrs on thy bosom play!

If Zephyr should his breath deny, My sighs shall fan thy flowery beds; If parching thy channel dry, The tears desponding Passion sheds Shall its exhausted stream supply.

Erratum

Elegy. Written at Sea

ELEGY.

WRITTEN AT SEA.

On Sapphire throne, o'er Heav'n's unnumber'd fires, The Moon in full-orb'd majesty presides; Calm are the seas, a favouring breeze transpires, And thro' the waves the vessel smoothly glides:

Beyond th' horizon's bound the mind extends, To the sought shores where Hope delusive leads: Sooth'd by the scene her tortures grief For absent kindred, friends, and native meads.

Till Sympathy from brooding Memory's stores Culls thorns, and plants them in the bleeding breast; Sunk into gloom the mind no more explores Hope's future dawn, and pants in vain for rest.

What tho' the seas are calm, the skies serene, Thus anguish dictates the desponding strain: "To friendship fear presents a gloomier scene, "The whirlwind's fury and tempestuous main.

"Even now perhaps from many a kindred eye "My dubious fate compels the tear, "And ev'ry passing cloud that veils the sky "Chills some fond anxious breast with boding fear.

"In my Love's bosom deeper sorrows roll, "Frantic with dread she sighs, implores, she raves; "Whilst Horror paints me, to her sickening soul, "Dash'd on a rock, or whelm'd beneath the waves."

Father of Heav'n, whose power controls the storms, O let thy mercy hear a wanderer's pray'r! Check the wild fears connubial fondness forms, And save the tender Mourner from despair.

For Me, whate'er thy sov'reign will shall doom, Still give me faith to bear that lot resign'd: That Faith which, smiling, courts the dreary tomb, And, Heav'n-aspiring, sooths th' afflicted mind.

Errata

Elegy. Philemon

PHILEMON,

AN ELEGY.

Where shade yon yews the Churchyard's lonely bourn, With faultering step, absorb'd in thought profound, Philemon wends in solitude to mourn, While Evening pours her deep'ning glooms around.

Loud shrieks the blast, the sleety torrent drives, Wide spreads the tempest's desolating power; To grief alone Philemon reckless lives, No rolling peal he heeds, cold blast or shower.

For This the Date that stampt his Emma's doom, In his fond arms she breath'd her life's last sigh: "Say, will my Love e'er seek his Emma's tomb?" She cried, then clos'd in death each wistful eye.

No sighs he breath'd, for anguish riv'd his breast, Her clay-cold hand he grasp'd, no tears he shed, 'Till fainting Nature sunk by grief oppress'd, And ere Distraction came, all sense was fled.

Now Time has calm'd, not cur'd Philemon's woe, For grief like his, life-woven never dies; And still each year's collected sorrows flow, As drooping o'er his Emma's tomb he sighs.

Latin Imitation of Stanzas from Gay

LATIN IMITATION OF

EXTRACTED FROM GAY'S FABLE OF

THE POET AND THE ROSE.

ORIGINAL.

Go Rose, my Chloe's bosom grace! How happy should I prove, Might I supply that envied place With never fading love! There, Phœnix like, beneath her eye, Involv'd in fragrance, burn and die!.

Know, hapless Flow'r, that thou shalt find More fragrant roses there: I see thy with'ring head reclin'd With envy and despair! One common fate we both must prove; You die with Envy, I with Love.

IDEM LATINÈ REDDITUM.

I, Rosa, deliciæ florum, properare memento Quà niveo invitat pectore pulchra Chloe! O, mihi fi liceat tali requiescere nido, Quàm vellem vestro nuncius ire loco! Sic, O sic positum, rari Phœnicis ad instar, Fragranti extinctum morte perire juvat!

At, Flos infelix, caveas! formosius ardet, Dulcè magis redolet, candidus iste sinus: Vincendi Nympham spem frustrà pascis inanem, En folia arescunt, ecce recline caput! Et Flos et Dominus fato moriuntur eodem, Te Flamma Invidiæ, Me meus urit Amor.

Erratum

Whitsuntide

WHITSUNTIDE.

WRITTEN AT WINCHESTER COLLEGE ON THE IMMEDIATE APPROACH OF THE HOLIDAYS.

Hence, Thou Fur-clad Winter, flу; Sire of shivering poverty! Who, as thou creep'st with chilblains lame To the crowded charcoal flame, With chattering teeth and ague cold, Scarce thy shaking sides canst hold Whilst Thou draw'st the deep cough out: God of Foot-ball's noisy rout, Tumult loud and boist'rous play, The dangerous slide, the snow-ball fray.

But come, Thou genial Son of Spring, Whitsuntide, and with thee bring

Cricket, nimble boy and light, In slippers red and drawers white, Who o'er the nicely-measur'd land Ranges around his comely band, Alert to intercept each blow, Each motion of the wary Foe.

Or patient take thy quiet stand, The Angle trembling in thy hand, And mark, with penetrative eye, Kissing the wave, the frequent fly; Where the trout with eager spring Forms the many-circled ring, And, leaping from the silver tide, Turns to the sun his speckled side.

Or lead where Health, a Naiad fair With rosy cheek and dropping hair,

From the sultry noon-tide beam, Dives in Itchin's crystal stream. Thy Votaries, rang'd in order due, Tomorrow's wish'd-for Dawn shall view Greeting the radiant Star of Light With Matin Hymn and early Rite: E'en now, these hallow'd haunts among, To Thee we raise the Choral Song;h And swell with echoing minstrelsy The strain of joy and liberty.