diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/11193-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11193-h/11193-h.htm | 7074 |
1 files changed, 7074 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/11193-h/11193-h.htm b/old/11193-h/11193-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e0bc99d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11193-h/11193-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7074 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Elegies and Other Small Poems, by Matilda Betham</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + + p { text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: 0em; } + p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 66%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced; } + p.poem2 { text-indent: 2em; } + p.poem4 { text-indent: 3em; } + + </style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Elegies and Other Small Poems, by Matilda Betham</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Elegies and Other Small Poems</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Matilda Betham</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 20, 2004 [eBook #11193]<br /> +[Most recently updated: June 24, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Jonathan Ingram, David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELEGIES AND OTHER SMALL POEMS ***</div> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + ELEGIES AND OTHER SMALL POEMS + </h1> + <p class="center"> + <b>BY MATILDA BETHAM.</b> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + + <p> + + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>To the Hon. LADY JERNINGHAM</i>. + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>Madam</i>, + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>The many endearing instances of regard I have experienced + since I had the honor of being known to your Ladyship, while + they impress my mind with gratitude, flatter my hopes with a + favourable reception of the following miscellanies, which, + under your patronage, I venture to submit to the public</i>. + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>Considered as the first essays of an early period of life, + and as the exercises of leisure, my wishes suggest, that they + may not, perhaps, be found wholly unworthy of attention; but + whatever be their fate with others, I shall feel myself much + gratified, if, in your Ladyship's judgment, they may be + allowed some merit</i>. + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>Though there cannot be a greater pleasure than dwelling on + the excellencies of a distinguished and amiable character, I + know not that it would be permitted me to indulge my present + inclination with enumerating those virtues and endowments + which confessedly distinguish your Ladyship, but my wishes I + may offer, and that you may long, very long, continue to + bless your family, to adorn your rank, and console the + unhappy, is the sincere prayer of</i> + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>Your Ladyship's most obliged humble servant, MATILDA + BETHAM</i>. + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + <i>Stonham, Nov. 20, 1797.</i> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + TO THE READER. + </h2> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + If, in the following pages, there may be found any + unacknowledged imitations, I hope I shall not be censured as + an intentional plagiarist; for it has been my wish, however I + may be esteemed presumptuous, not to be unjust; and I + sometimes fear lest an imperfect recollection of another's + idea should have appeared to me as a dawning thought of my + own. Wherever I could recollect a similar passage, although + unnoticed at the time I wrote, it has been either altered or + acknowledged. + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + I commit these trifles to the press with the anxiety + necessarily resulting from a desire that they may not be + deemed altogether worthless. Though the natural partiality of + the writer may be somewhat strengthened by the commendations + of friends and parents, I am well aware that no apology can + give currency to imperfection. + </p> + <p style="margin: 1em; text-indent: 1em;"> + I have not vainly attempted to ascend to the steeps of + Parnassus. If, wandering at its foot, I have mistaken + perishable shrubs for never-dying flowers, the errors of a + youthful mind, first viewing the fascinating regions of + fancy, will not be rigidly condemned; for wherever there is + true taste, there will be genuine candour. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS. + </h2> + <table summary="Table of Contents" cellpadding="7"> + <tr> + <td colspan="2"> + <hr /> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_1">To ——, with Arthur and + Albina</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_1a">Arthur and Albina</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_2">The Fraternal Duel</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_2a">Lines in a Letter to A.R.C.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_3">The Lonely Walk</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_4">The Outlaw</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_5">Invitation</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_6">Whitsun-Monday</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_7">Philemon</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_8">On a Fan</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_9">To Simplicity</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_10">The Terrors of Guilt</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_11">Cen'lin, Prince of Mercia</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_12">Rhapsody</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_13">Human Pleasure or Pain</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_14">The Complaint of Fancy</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_14a">On the Eve of Departure from + O——</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_15">To M.I.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_16">Translation from Metastasio</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_22">—— from Della Casa</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_24">Editha</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_25">To M.I.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_26">Written in Zimmermann's + Solitude</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_27">To the Memory of Mr. Agostino + Isola</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_28">To the Nuns of Bodney</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_29">Fragment</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_30">Fragment</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#RULE4_31">Written April 18, 1796.</a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td colspan="2"> + <hr /> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_1"><!-- RULE4 1 --></a> + To —— WITH ARTHUR and ALBINA. + </h2> + <p class="center"> + 1794. + </p> + + <p class="noindent"> + Ah! if your eye should e'er these lines survey,<br/> + Dismiss from thence its penetrating ray:<br/> + Let Criticism then her distance keep,<br/> + And dreaded Justice then be lull'd to sleep;<br/> + For, let whatever sentence be their due,<br/> + I feel I cannot censure bear from you. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr /> + <p class="center"> + <i>A British Maid awaits the arrival of her lover from the + battle, on a hill, where, at its commencement, she had + retired to make vows to heaven for his + success.—Evening</i>. + </p> + <hr /> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_1a"><!-- RULE4 1a --></a> + ARTHUR and ALBINA. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Ah me! the yellow western sky turns pale, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And leaves the cheerless sons of earth to mourn; + </p> + <p> + And yet I hear not in the silent vale, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A sound to tell me Arthur does return. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah, haste ye hours! quick plume the loit'ring wing! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Bring back my hero, crown'd with glorious spoils! + </p> + <p> + Let bards on lofty harps his triumphs sing, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And loud applause repay successful toils! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Reward the flame, ye great celestial pow'rs, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The noble flame that in his bosom glows! + </p> + <p> + Inspire him, Druids, from your holy bow'rs, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With strength to conquer iron-breasted foes!<a href="#note-1">1</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With heighten'd vigour brace his nervous arm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And let his lance with ten-fold fury fly, + </p> + <p> + Make him terrific by some potent charm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And add new lightening to his piercing eye! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Then may my lover gain unrivall'd fame, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The Roman banners may less proudly flow, + </p> + <p> + Then he may humble their detested name, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And their high plumes wave o'er' a British brow! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Then may his chariot,<a href="#note-2">2</a> wheeling + o'er the plain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Hurl death and desolation all around, + </p> + <p> + While his intrepid front appals their train, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And make our proud invaders bite the ground! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + But yet I hear no lively foot advance; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No sound of triumph greets my list'ning ear!' + </p> + <p> + And I may carve this eagle-darting lance + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + For one, whose voice I never more shall hear! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Perhaps my vows have never reach'd the skies, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor heav'n, propitious, smil'd upon my pray'r; + </p> + <p> + And ah! to morrow's crimson dawn may rise + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To plunge me in the horrors of despair! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Yet well he knows the dreadful spear to wield— + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Alas! their fearful limbs are fenc'd with care: + </p> + <p> + And, what can valour, when th'extended + shield<a href="#note-3">3</a> + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + May leave, so oft, his gen'rous bosom bare? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Say, reverend Druids, can you bless in vain? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Can you in vain extend your spotless hands? + </p> + <p> + Will not heav'n listen when its priests complain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And save its altars from unhallow'd bands? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh yes! I'll fear no more! The sacred + groves,<a href="#note-4">4</a> + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That rear their untouch'd branches to the skies; + </p> + <p> + Beneath whose shade its chosen servant roves, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Hidden from weak, unconsecrated eyes: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Beneath whose shade the choral bards rehearse, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Piercing, with uprais'd eyes, each mist that shrouds, + </p> + <p> + And, listening, catch the heav'n-dictated verse, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By airs etherial wailed from the clouds: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + It ne'er can be—but hark! I hear the sound + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of some one's step; yet not the youth I love; + </p> + <p> + He would have flown, and scarcely touch'd the ground, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Not ling'ring thus, with weary caution, move. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The heavy wanderer approaches nigh, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + But the drear darkness skreens him from my views + </p> + <p> + Ah, gracious heav'n! it was my Arthur's sigh, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which the unwilling breeze so faintly blew. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh speak! inform me what I have to fear! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Speak, and relieve my doubting, trembling heart! + </p> + <p> + To thy Albina, with a tongue sincere, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A portion of thy wretchedness impart!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Sweet maid," replied the wounded, dying youth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In accents mournful, tremulous and slow, + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I will ever answer thee with truth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + While yet the feeble tide of life shall flow. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + We made the haughty Roman chiefs retire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The tow'ring, sacrilegious eagle<a href="#note-5">5</a> + flew; + </p> + <p> + Our bosoms swell'd with more than mortal fire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When from the field indignant they withdrew. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + But ill bespeaks my faint and languid tongue, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The glowing beauties of that joyful sight; + </p> + <p> + Ill can my breast, with keenest torture wrung, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Dwell on the charming terrors of the fight. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + To others then I leave the envied strain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which shall for ages rend the British air; + </p> + <p> + Nor will thy partial ear expect, in vain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To find the humble name of Arthur there. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + I go, while now the victory is warm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The just reward of valour to obtain; + </p> + <p> + Soon I return, clad in a nobler form,<a href="#note-6">6</a> + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Again to triumph, and again be slain. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah! then, my dear Albina, cease to grieve, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor at thy lover's glorious fate repine; + </p> + <p> + For, though my present favour'd form I leave, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + This constant heart shall still be only thine. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Alas! e'en now I feel the icy hand + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of hasty death, press down my swelling heart; + </p> + <p> + E'en now I hear a sweet aerial band, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Summon thy faithful Arthur to depart. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Let not thy tears an absent lover mourn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Remember that he bravely, nobly died; + </p> + <p> + Remember that he quickly will return, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And claim again his lov'd, his destin'd bride." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + As thus the warrior's fainting spirits fled, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And parting life streamed forth at every vein, + </p> + <p> + His quivering lip, in whispers, softly said, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + "Remember, Arthur dies to live again!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Oh stay, dear youth!" the hapless maiden cries, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + My best-lov'd Arthur, but one moment stay! + </p> + <p> + And close not yet those all-enlivening eyes, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + So lately lighted at the torch of day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah! yet once more, that look of tender love, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of fond regret, my Arthur, let me view! + </p> + <p> + Let one more effort thy affection, prove, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And bid me once, once more, a long adieu. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Now, ere the moon withdraws her feeble light, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Ope yet again on me thy fading eye! + </p> + <p> + He hears not! memory has ta'en her flight, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And vanish'd with that last convulsive sigh. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Why did I variegated wreaths prepare, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To pay the conqueror every honor due? + </p> + <p> + Or, why, with fillets, bind my flowing hair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And tinge my arms of the bright azure hue?<a href="#note-7">7</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh! must this constant bosom beat no more? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + This skilful hand no more direct the spear? + </p> + <p> + Must lost Albina still her fate deplore, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And ever drop the unavailing tear? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Must I no more that lovely face review, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Expressing each emotion of the mind? + </p> + <p> + No more repeat a sweetly sad adieu? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No more gay chaplets on his forehead bind? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + His forehead, high and fair, with martial grace, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And bold, free curls of glossy chesnut crown'd; + </p> + <p> + The full, dark eye-brow which adorn'd his face, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + O'erwhelming foes with terror as he frown'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + His voice, though strong, harmoniously clear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No more shall fill Albina with delight; + </p> + <p> + No more shall sooth her still-attentive ear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And make her fancy every sorrow light. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Farewell to love, to happiness, and joy! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Yet will I cull the summer's choicest bloom; + </p> + <p> + Funereal chaplets shall my time employ, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And wither daily on my Arthur's tomb." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + As thus she mourn'd, with bitterest woe opprest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A ray of light illumin'd all the grove, + </p> + <p> + And a consoling voice the fair addrest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In the soft accents of parental love. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Though still she clasp'd her hero's valued corse, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + She slowly rais'd her languid, streaming eyes, + </p> + <p> + And own'd astonishment's resistless force, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Viewing the stranger with a wild surprize. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The form was clad in robes of purest white, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That swept with solemn dignity the ground; + </p> + <p> + Contrasting with the blackest gloom of night, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which reign'd in awful majesty around. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The silver beard did reverence demand,<a href="#note-8">8</a> + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And told her that a holy bard was there, + </p> + <p> + Whose shrivell'd fingers grasp'd a flaming brand, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which threw a lustre on the waving hair. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + His eye possess'd the brilliant fire of youth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + United with the wisdom of the sage; + </p> + <p> + And speaking, with the simple voice of truth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + He blended the solemnity of age. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Arise! thou loveliest of misfortune's train, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And cease these weak, desponding tears to shed; + </p> + <p> + The soft effusions of thy grief restrain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which serve but to disturb the peaceful dead. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The youth you mourn, far from these scenes of woe, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To worlds of never-ending joy is flown; + </p> + <p> + Where his blest bosom with delight shall glow, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And his fair temples wear a princely crown. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah then, presumptuous! question not the skies, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor more with vain laments his loss deplore; + </p> + <p> + Attend to this, and cease your fruitless sighs, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + You soon shall meet where you can part no + more."<a href="#note-9">9</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Awe-struck, his sacred wisdom she confest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which pour'd sweet consolation on her mind; + </p> + <p> + She cross'd her blood-stain'd hands upon her breast, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And bow'd her humble, grateful head, resign'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + AUGUST 27, 1794. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="note-1"><!-- Note Anchor 1 --></a>1: Alluding to the + armour of the Romani. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-2"><!-- Note Anchor 2 --></a>2: The Britons + fought in low chariots, which they could leave and re-ascend + at pleasure. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-3"><!-- Note Anchor 3 --></a>3: The shield + being their only armour, when held out to protect a wounded + or dying friend, left them defenceless. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-4"><!-- Note Anchor 4 --></a>4: The groves were + consecrated to the celebration of religious mysteries. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-5"><!-- Note Anchor 5 --></a>5: The Roman + standard. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-6"><!-- Note Anchor 6 --></a>6: The Druids are + said to have preached the doctrine of transmigration, in + order to inspire their warriors with the greater contempt of + death. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-7"><!-- Note Anchor 7 --></a>7: The practice of + staining themselves with blue was common among the Britons. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-8"><!-- Note Anchor 8 --></a>8: The people, + excepting the priests, shaved off all the hair from their + faces, but what grew on the upper lip. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-9"><!-- Note Anchor 9 --></a>9: This equivocal + manner of speech may be supposed natural enough in one of + this order of priests, who, it is said, held a more refined + idea of a future state than they preached to the people. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr /> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Alas! no more that joyous morn appears + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + That led the tranquil hours of spotless fame; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + For I have steep'd a father's couch in tears, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p style="text-align: right;"> + SHENSTONE. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_2"><!-- RULE4 2 --></a> + THE FRATERNAL DUEL. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + 'Oh! hide me from the sun! I loath the sight! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I cannot bear his bright, obtrusive ray: + </p> + <p> + Nought is so dreadful to my gloom as light! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nothing so dismal as the blaze of day! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + No more may I its sparkling glories view! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No more its piercing lustre meet my eye! + </p> + <p> + On night's black wings my only comfort flew; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + At breath of morn I sicken and I die. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Where can I fly? In what sequester'd clime + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Does darkness ever hold her ebon reign? + </p> + <p> + Where woeful dirges measure out the time, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And endless echoes breathe the sullen strain. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Where dreary mountains rear their low'ring heads, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To pierce the heavy and umbrageous clouds; + </p> + <p> + And where the cavern dewy moisture sheds, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And night's thick veil the guilty mourner shrouds. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + There, lost in horrors, I might vent my sighs; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To open misery myself resign; + </p> + <p> + Might snatch each torturing vision ere it flies, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And feast on prospects desolate as mine. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh! let me thither quickly take my flight, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And chuse a favourite and a final seat, + </p> + <p> + In scenes which would each gentler mind affright, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + But for my guilt affords a fit retreat. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + There, where no ray, no gleam of light could come, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + There, and there only, could I find relief; + </p> + <p> + There might I ruminate on Edward's doom, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lose myself in luxury of grief. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And, as it is, though joys around me shine, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though pleasure here erects her dazzling brow, + </p> + <p> + Wrapt in despondence, will I droop and pine, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And tears of anguish shall for ever flow. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh Edward! could'st thou see this alter'd frame, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which youthful graces lately did adorn! + </p> + <p> + Could'st thou behold, and think me still the same, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thy once gay friend, thus hapless and forlorn? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The cheek, so late by ruddy health embrown'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Now pale and faded with incessant tears; + </p> + <p> + The eye, which once elate, disdain'd the ground, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Now sunk and languid in its orb appears. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh! never, never will I cease to grieve! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And sure repentance pardon may obtain! + </p> + <p> + Can woe unfeign'd incite heav'n to relieve + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A wretch opprest with agonizing pain? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah no! my hands are stain'd with brother's blood! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A father's curses load my sinking head! + </p> + <p> + I wish to die, but dare not pass the flood, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + For there, as well as here, my hopes are fled. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Sleep, which was meant to chase away the thought, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To lull the sound of dissonant despair, + </p> + <p> + Appears to me with added terrors fraught, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And my torn heart can find no refuge there. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + If, for a moment, I its fetters wear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And its soft pressure these pale eyes controul, + </p> + <p> + I injur'd Emma's just reproaches hear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or Edward's form appals my shrinking soul. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + When in those transitory sleeps I lie, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I oft his beauteous, bleeding form review; + </p> + <p> + A mild, benignant lustre lights his eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + As come to bid a friend a last adieu. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + I start, I shudder at his tuneful voice, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When it, in soothing whispers, meets my ear; + </p> + <p> + That sound, which oft has made my heart rejoice, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I now all-trembling and affrighted hear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Was it thy fault, dear, much-lamented youth + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + If lovely Emma did thy suit prefer? + </p> + <p> + She saw thee form'd of tenderness and truth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And kings might glory to be lov'd by her. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Thy native sweetness won her artless heart; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And well our different characters she knew; + </p> + <p> + Whilst thy mild looks did happiness impart, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + She saw the murderer in each glance I threw. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Yet for this, meanly, did I thee upbraid, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And basely urg'd an elder brother's right; + </p> + <p> + Then, calling impious passion to my aid, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Forc'd thee, unwilling, to the fatal fight. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh! ne'er shall I forget the dreadful hour, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I sheath'd my weapon in thy noble breast; + </p> + <p> + Thy dying hand clasp'd mine, with feeble pow'r, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And to thy mangled bosom fondly prest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Whilst o'er thee, I, in speechless anguish hung, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thou saw'st the wild distraction of my eye; + </p> + <p> + And, though the chills of death restrain'd thy tongue + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thy bosom heav'd a sympathetic sigh. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With cruel tenderness my friends contriv'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To bear me from the drear, polluted shore; + </p> + <p> + Of every joy, of peace itself depriv'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which this despairing breast shall know no more. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Since this what frenzy has inspir'd my mind! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + My tortur'd mem'ry cannot it retrace; + </p> + <p> + No relique now of former days I find, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + But horrors, which e'en madness can't efface. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + My dearest brother, and my tenderest friend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + O come, and save me from this dark abyss! + </p> + <p> + Draw hence the darts which my rack'd bosom rend! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And bear me with you to the realms of bliss! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah! whence that pang which smote my shuddering heart? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Where now, for refuge, can lost Anselm fly? + </p> + <p> + 'Tis Death! I know him by his crimson dart! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And, am I fit? Oh heav'ns! I cannot die! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + My spirit is not form'd for rapid flight; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + It cannot cut the vast expanse of air, + </p> + <p> + No, never can it reach the realms of light, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + For sin, a weight immoveable, lies there!' + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Thus wretched Anselm rav'd: unhappy youth! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though passion hurried thee so far astray, + </p> + <p> + Thy infant soul ador'd the God of Truth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And virtue usher'd in thy vernal day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh! had he learn'd his passions to restrain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And let cool reason in his breast preside, + </p> + <p> + His op'ning wisdom had not bloom'd in vain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor had he, ere the prime of manhood, died. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Yet, if remorse could expiate his guilt, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + If the worst sufferings could the crime erase, + </p> + <p> + If tears could wash away the blood he spilt, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Then Anselm's penitence obtain'd him grace. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + AUGUST 20, 1794. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3><a name="RULE4_2a"><!-- RULE4 2 --></a> + IN A + </h3> + <h2> + LETTER to A.R.C. + </h2> + <h3> + ON HER WISHING TO BE CALLED<br/> + ANNA. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Forgive me, if I wound your ear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By calling of you Nancy, + </p> + <p> + Which is the name of my sweet friend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The other's but her fancy. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah, dearest girl! how could your mind + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The strange distinction frame? + </p> + <p> + The whimsical, unjust caprice, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which robs you of your name. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + <i>Nancy</i> agrees with what we see, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A being wild and airy; + </p> + <p> + Gay as a nymph of Flora's train, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Fantastic as a fairy. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + But <i>Anna's</i> of a different kind, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A melancholy maid; + </p> + <p> + Boasting a sentimental soul, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In solemn pomp array'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh ne'er will I forsake the sound, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + So artless and so free! + </p> + <p> + Be what you will with all mankind. + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + But <i>Nancy</i> still with me. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_3"><!-- RULE4 3 --></a> + THE LONELY WALK, + </h2> + <h3> + To W.S.B. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + When the grey evening spreads a calm around, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Tell me, has thy bewilder'd fancy sought, + </p> + <p> + Retir'd in some sequestered spot of ground, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Rest, from the labour of eternal thought? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + When, wrapt in self, the soul enjoys repose, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The wearied brain resigns its fervent heat, + </p> + <p> + In dream-like musing every care we lose, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And wind our way with slowly-moving feet. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oft, to indulge the thought-exploded sigh, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When, slowly wandering at the close of day, + </p> + <p> + Light emanations from th'abstracted eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With transient beauty in the sun-beams play, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Thy sister seeks the solitary shade. + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Her mind inhaling the aerial gloom, + </p> + <p> + Sees, not-observing, the fair landscape fade, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And sullen mist usurping day-light's room. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Not her's the feelings which regret inspires, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When sorrows keen have made the spirits low; + </p> + <p> + Adversity has damp'd the youthful fires, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And all the tears that fall are tears of woe. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah no! possessing every social bliss, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I cannot, will not at my fate repine; + </p> + <p> + Or ask for happiness excelling this, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When such a world of treasures now are mine! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And, when the melancholy grove I seek, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Scarce can my palpitating heart controul, + </p> + <p> + While silent tears are trembling on my cheek, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The flood of pleasure swelling in my soul. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + But soon my too-elated thoughts are calm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The tumults of the mental chaos cease; + </p> + <p> + A soft oblivion the rais'd senses charm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lull to a reflecting, soothing peace. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Hail, sweet enhancements of the languid mind! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Whose calm reposes restless worldlings scorn; + </p> + <p> + But from whose aid recruited strength we find, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And waken, lively as the bird of morn. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And thou, lov'd boy, in whose congenial breast, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I doubt not but those sentiments reside; + </p> + <p> + For we, our thoughts, our actions have confest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + As much in hearts as persons are allied; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Hail thou, my brother! may thy steps be led + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By heav'nly wisdom through this world of care, + </p> + <p> + And gain the realms for which our Saviour, bled! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor pain, nor lassitude await us there. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + OCTOBER 13, 1794. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr /> + <p class="center"> + <i>The first Percy, who came over with William the Conqueror, + married a Saxon lady, called Emma de Port, said to have been + the daughter of the last Saxon Earl of Northumberland, whose + possessions had been given to him (Lord William de Percy) for + his services</i>. + </p> + <p class="center"> + <i>I have taken the liberty of supposing this lady to have + had a brother.</i> + </p> + <hr /> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_4"><!-- RULE4 4 --></a> + THE OUTLAW. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Before the fair Aurora spread + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Her azure mantle o'er the skies, + </p> + <p> + While sleep its pleasing influence shed, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + On grateful mortals weary eyes, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Emerg'd from a surrounding wood, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + On a bleak mountain's sullen brow, + </p> + <p> + A solitary outlaw stood, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And view'd, through mist, the world below. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With deep regret his bosom fraught, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + His arms were wreath'd in sorrow's knot<a href="#note-10">10</a>; + </p> + <p> + Nor seem'd he yet, by patience taught, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To bear submissively his lot. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Hidden was each enlivening grace; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Deprest by his untimely doom; + </p> + <p> + A hectic flush o'erspread his face, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Instead of nature's florid bloom. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Untutor'd in the school of grief, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + His pining spirit spoke in sighs; + </p> + <p> + Though almost hopeless of relief, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + He look'd around with eager eyes; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And fondly bent an anxious ear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To the slow murmuring of the breeze, + </p> + <p> + Essaying oft, in vain, to hear + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A friendly step beneath the trees. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Delusive wish!" at last he cried, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + "Why wilt thou fill my aching breast? + </p> + <p> + And thus my miseries deride, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By telling how I might be blest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No kind consolers hither bend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By sympathy to ease my care; + </p> + <p> + Here comes no ever-faithful friend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Who yet might shield me from despair. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "The abbey's well-known tow'r I seek, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + It fades from my impassion'd eye; + </p> + <p> + The fancied outlines softly break, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And melt into the distant sky. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No pitying object now remains, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That I may know those scenes are near, + </p> + <p> + Where generous love and friendship reigns, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And Alwin's name may claim a tear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "And you, my lov'd paternal groves, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Where I no more must shew my head; + </p> + <p> + In your fair walks a stranger roves, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And treacherous Normans daily tread! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "E'en now their presence may prophane + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The halls where Herbert did reside! + </p> + <p> + E'en now may joy and gladness reign, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And Adelaide be Percy's bride. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Yet no! her soul, the seat of truth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Would ne'er a second love receive! + </p> + <p> + The sacred vows of artless youth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Her Alwin ever shall believe! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "They still shall comfort my sad heart, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And sooth the anguish of my mind; + </p> + <p> + Shall still a cheering hope impart, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And make me somewhat more resign'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ah! yet I hear her trembling hand, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Withdraw the bolt to set me free! + </p> + <p> + Yet hear the hasty, kind command, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + My Alwin fly, and live for me! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No other can obtain my love! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I would for thee the world resign! + </p> + <p> + Then let thy prompt obedience prove + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That thou art truly, wholly mine." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "And ever to her promise true, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No pleasure shall her soul elate, + </p> + <p> + For, yet her constant thoughts pursue + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A wretched Outlaw's hapless fate! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "In vain proud Ranulph<a href="#note-11">11</a> shall + upbraid, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + My Adelaide is still the same! + </p> + <p> + And, for thy sake, dear, lovely maid, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I will not curse the Norman name! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Not, though my father's large domains, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Are plunder'd by the murderous bands; + </p> + <p> + And my Northumbria's fertile plains, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Lie wasted by their cruel hands; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Though, as a son, I mourn the fate + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of those, to whom my life I owe; + </p> + <p> + And hate the hearts that thus create + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The dimness of severest woe; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Though I behold no friendly steel, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To give my Emma vengeance, drawn; + </p> + <p> + And though a brother's pangs I feel, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To know her destitute, forlorn; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Though, banish'd from the sight of day, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In dreary solitude I pine; + </p> + <p> + And, forc'd to feel a tyrant's sway, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Each dear paternal right resign; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Yet will I seal my lips; nor dare + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To extricate my haughty foes: + </p> + <p> + The hateful, guilty root I spare, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which can produce so fair a rose. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "But thou, my heart, wilt thou be calm? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Oh! tell me, can reflection cease; + </p> + <p> + And this fond bosom, now so warm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Be ever tranquilliz'd to peace! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ah, no! a father's scornful eye + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Is ever present to my view; + </p> + <p> + And tells me, Herbert dar'd to die, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though Normans could his son subdue. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Each feeble plea his soul disdains, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + They cannot for the fault atone; + </p> + <p> + Though, when I left Northumbria's plains, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I had not fifteen summers known. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "And hear me, Herbert, when I swear + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + It was not fear that urg'd my flight; + </p> + <p> + A worthless life was not my care, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I thought but of a parent's right. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Then pardon that my youth comply'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To ease a mother's anxious fears + </p> + <p> + That, when I rather would have died, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I yielded to a sister's tears. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Alas! a peasant's humble shed, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Soon saw our sainted parents' death, + </p> + <p> + Who, while our hearts in anguish bled, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With pious hopes resign'd her breath. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "When mists foretel the ev'ning near, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And clouds of chilling dew arise, + </p> + <p> + We sought the grave of her so dear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And offer'd there our tears and sighs. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "'Till mild reflection lent her aid, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And bade our filial sorrows cease; + </p> + <p> + The fever of our souls allay'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + We sunk into a mournful peace. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "My pensive bosom strove to keep + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A dying mother's last request; + </p> + <p> + I let the thoughts of vengeance sleep, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And studied to make Emma blest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No longer shunning of the dawn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or seeking the sequester'd shade, + </p> + <p> + I call'd my sister to the lawn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And trod with her the flow'ry glade. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Submitting to our wayward fate, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I talk'd not of the treasures flown; + </p> + <p> + But still seem'd easy and sedate, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + While pressing verdure not my own. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Then all I wish'd, and all I fear'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Was by fraternal love inspir'd; + </p> + <p> + And one, by every tie endear'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The only friend my soul desir'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Yet soon that pleasing calmness fled, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A Norman beauty won my heart, + </p> + <p> + Imperious love my footsteps led, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And bade all secrecy depart. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "I own'd the splendour of my race, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Altho' a peasant's form I bore; + </p> + <p> + I fancied silence was disgrace, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And hid my sentiments no more. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Her father's tongue my fate decreed, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And doom'd great Herbert's son to shame; + </p> + <p> + For, tho' by love from prison freed, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I bear an outlaw's hateful name. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "My sister no fond friend can shield, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No relative allay her grief; + </p> + <p> + For tyranny all hearts hath steel'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And nought can give her soul relief. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "With ev'ry quality to charm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A guardian will not heaven allow, + </p> + <p> + To screen thy artless youth from harm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And, fair deserted! help thee now! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No aid, no comfort, can be nigh! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And shall thy brother here remain? + </p> + <p> + Has he not fortitude to fly, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And burst the heavy, servile chain? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Why should I linger here alone, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Unseen by every human eye? + </p> + <p> + To live unfriended and unknown, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And in this dreary desart die. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "For now the sun-beams gild the sky, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And give the misty morning grace, + </p> + <p> + Far from the light I'm doom'd to fly, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Abandon'd by the human race. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "But no! I'll bear suspense no more! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Too dear a price to purchase breath; + </p> + <p> + I'll seek the scenes I yet deplore, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And meet a welcome, wish'd-for, death." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Tortur'd to frenzy, Alwin flew, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And as he left his sad retreat, + </p> + <p> + He, turning, look'd a last adieu, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And shook the dew-drops from his feet. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + His hurried steps nor press'd the ground, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor pointed out the path he came; + </p> + <p> + And, though so long the way he found, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Despair buoy'd up his fainting frame. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The sun shot forth a feeble ray, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + But hid his glorious orb from sight, + </p> + <p> + And the pale evening's modest grey, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Had soften'd the too-glaring light, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + When Alwin reach'd the humble cot, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That once he did with Emma share, + </p> + <p> + And, weeping, hail'd the well-known spot, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In vain, for Emma was not there. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Repuls'd, he turn'd his languid eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Where Ranulph's lofty turrets rose; + </p> + <p> + And, heaving disappointment's sigh, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + He sought the mansion of his foes. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + His faltering step, when there he came, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A proud, disdainful air possest; + </p> + <p> + Memory recall'd his former shame, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And indignation fill'd his breast. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + He enter'd, in his wild attire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With hasty pace and haggard brow, + </p> + <p> + Scorn fill'd his azure eye with fire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And gave his cheeks a deeper glow. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + A graceful knight who met his view, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Sat pleading by a lady's side; + </p> + <p> + And Alwin's jealous bosom knew + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Lord Percy, and his fated bride. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Mistaken youth! thy eyes have seen, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The persons pictur'd in thy mind; + </p> + <p> + But who is that, with pensive mien, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And forehead on her hand reclin'd? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + O'er whom Lord Ranulph fondly bends, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With sorrow seated on his brow; + </p> + <p> + While the regretting tear descends + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + O'er his pale cheek, in silent woe. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ah! is it thus?" sad Alwin said, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The fancied bride the accents knew, + </p> + <p> + Lord Percy rais'd his drooping head, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lovely Emma met his view. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Then rapture and surprize prevail'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Each bosom felt confus'd delight; + </p> + <p> + While his return the mourner hail'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And thus his sorrows did requite. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "O, dearest Alwin, now no more + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + My father disapproves our flame; + </p> + <p> + No longer we thy loss deplore, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or tremble to pronounce thy name. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "A noble friend has gain'd our cause, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And vanquish'd all his former hate; + </p> + <p> + Who, ere he own'd a lover's laws, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With generous tears had wept thy fate." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Yes, injur'd youth," Lord Ranulph cried, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + "Thou art this day my chosen heir; + </p> + <p> + In Adelaide behold thy bride, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thy sister's future husband, there. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Lord Percy, to a candid mind, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Unites a fervour like thy own; + </p> + <p> + And Emma, not to merit blind, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Refers his cause to thee alone. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "If thou wilt grant his fond desire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + 'Twill gain a brave, a noble friend; + </p> + <p> + And the possessions of thy sire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To his posterity descend." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "And did my Emma stay to hear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Her brother sanctify her choice? + </p> + <p> + Ah Percy! now you need not fear + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + From Alwin, a dissenting voice. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Blest in my love, in Emma blest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + My heart each cherish'd wish obtains; + </p> + <p> + Northumbrians, now no more opprest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Shall own a son of Herbert reigns. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "May ye rebuild the peasant's cot, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Exalt the woe-depressed head, + </p> + <p> + And o'er each desolated spot, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The fostering calm of quiet spread! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "May sterne reserve and caution cease! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With lenient hand dispense your sway; + </p> + <p> + Give them the healing balm of peace, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Their wounded spirits will obey. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ah! cheer their gloom! dispel their care! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The smile will soon replace the tear; + </p> + <p> + And, wedded to a Saxon fair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The foreign lord no more appear." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + 1794. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="note-10"><!-- Note Anchor 10 --></a>10: "Wreathing + his arms in this sad knot."—SHAKESPERE'S TEMPEST. + </p> + <p> + <a name="note-11"><!-- Note Anchor 11 --></a>11: Lord of + Cumberland. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_5"><!-- RULE4 5 --></a> + INVITATION, + </h2> + <h3> + To J.B.C. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Now spring appears, with beauty crown'd,<br/> + And all is light and life around,<br/> + Why comes not Jane? When friendship calls,<br/> + Why leaves she not Augusta's walls?<br/> + Where cooling zephyrs faintly blow,<br/> + Nor spread the cheering, healthful glow.<br/> + That glides through each awaken'd vein,<br/> + As skimming o'er the spacious plain,<br/> + We look around with joyous eye,<br/> + And view no boundaries but the sky. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Already April's reign is o'er,<br/> + Her evening tints delight no more;<br/> + No more the violet scents the gale,<br/> + No more the mist o'erspreads the vale;<br/> + The lovely queen of smiles and tears,<br/> + Who gave thee birth, no more appears;<br/> + But blushing May, with brow serene,<br/> + And vestments of a livelier green,<br/> + Commands the winged choir to sing,<br/> + And with wild notes the meadows ring. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + O come! ere all the train is gone,<br/> + No more to hail thy twenty-one;<br/> + That age which higher honor shares,<br/> + And well becomes the wreath it wears.<br/> + From lassitude and cities flee,<br/> + And breathe the air of heav'n, with me. + </p> + <p class="center"> + MAY 5, 1795. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3><a name="RULE4_6"><!-- RULE4 6 --></a> + WRITTEN ON + </h3> + <h2> + WHITSUN-MONDAY, + </h2> + <p class="center"> + 1795. + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + At an open window sitting, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + On this day of mirth and glee, + </p> + <p> + 'Cross a flow'ry vista flitting, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Many passing forms I see. + </p> + <p> + Ah! lovely prospect, stay awhile! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And longer glad my doating eye, + </p> + <p> + With poverty's delighted smile, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lighten'd step, as passing by; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With labour's spruce and ruddy train, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Deck'd out in all their best array, + </p> + <p> + Who, months of toil and care disdain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Paid by the pleasures of a day. + </p> + <p> + The village girl still let me view, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Hast'ning to the neighb'ring fair; + </p> + <p> + Her cap adorn'd with pink or blue, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And nicely smooth her glossy hair. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With sparkling eye and smiling face, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Ting'd o'er with beauty's warmest glow; + </p> + <p> + With timid air, and humble grace, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With clear and undepressed brow. + </p> + <p> + Go! lovely girl, and share the day, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To thy industrious merit due; + </p> + <p> + There join the dance, or choral lay; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thou blooming, village rose, adieu! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And thou, O youth, so blythe and free, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Bounding swiftly o'er the plain, + </p> + <p> + Go, taste the joys of liberty, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And cheer thy spirit, happy swain! + </p> + <p> + How different to the lonely hour, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When slowly following the plough, + </p> + <p> + Self-buoyant joy forgets the pow'r, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which warms thy gladden'd bosom now. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + If some rural prize desiring, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or ambitious of applause, + </p> + <p> + Loud huzzas thy wishes firing, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thy steady hand the furrow draws; + </p> + <p> + Ne'er a victor fam'd in story, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Greater praise and reverence drew, + </p> + <p> + Than thou, attir'd in humble glory, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + So, guiltless conqueror, adieu! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh, here a charming group appears! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A cottage family, so gay, + </p> + <p> + Whose youthful hopes, uncheck'd by fears, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In smiles of thoughtless rapture play. + </p> + <p> + Here, borne in fond, parental arms, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The infant's roving eye we view; + </p> + <p> + Boasting a thousand, thousand charms, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Endearing innocents, adieu! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + They go! no more with beating heart, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lively, dancing step to tread; + </p> + <p> + Unwillingly will they depart, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To seek again their homely shed. + </p> + <p> + Ah! Eve, I love thy veil of grey, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which will conceal them from my view, + </p> + <p> + For, bending home their weary way, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + How sad would be our last adieu! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr /> + <p class="center"> + <i>The following was suggested by reading a whimsical + description, given by Scarron, of the deformity of his + person, contrasted with its former elegance, in the + Curiosities of Literature, vol. 2, page 247</i>. + </p> + <hr /> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_7"><!-- RULE4 7 --></a> + PHILEMON. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Ye blooming youth, possest of every grace, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which can delight the eye, or please the ear, + </p> + <p> + Who boast a polish'd mind and faultless face, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Awhile the councils of Philemon hear! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Let not pride lift the thoughtless head too high, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Temerity arch o'er the scornful brow, + </p> + <p> + Contemptuous glances arm the sparkling eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or the high heart with self-complacence glow! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Alas! full soon the eve of life arrives, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though pale Disease's train approach not nigh; + </p> + <p> + Short is the summer of the happiest lives, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + If no rude storm disturbs the smiling sky. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + This wretched body, bending to the earth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Once, on the wings of health, alert and gay, + </p> + <p> + Shone forth the foremost in the train of mirth, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And cloudless skies announc'd a beauteous day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + My parents oft, with fond complacence view'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The elegance of my external form; + </p> + <p> + And thought my mind with excellence endued, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Bright as my genius, as my fancy warm. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + There was a time, poor as I now appear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I admiration met in every look; + </p> + <p> + And, harsh as now my words may grate your ear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Each tongue was silent when Philemon spoke. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Once could this voice make every bosom thrill, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + As it pour'd forth the light or plaintive lay; + </p> + <p> + And once these fingers, with superior skill, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Upon the lute could eloquently play. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + By partial friendship sooth'd, by flattery fann'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I learnt with conscious grace the dance to lead, + </p> + <p> + To guide the Phaeton with careless hand, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And rule, with flowing rein, the prancing steed. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Sick with the glory of a trifler's fame, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By folly nurtur'd, I was proud and vain; + </p> + <p> + Till Chastisement in kindest mercy came, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though then her just decrees I dar'd arraign. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The form that sought so late the public view, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That glow'd with transport, as the world admir'd, + </p> + <p> + Fill'd with false shame, from every eye withdrew, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And to the shades of solitude retir'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Consum'd by fevers, spiritless, forlorn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Blasted by apoplexy's dreadful rage, + </p> + <p> + My bleeding heart by keen remembrance torn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I past my prime in premature old age. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + I heard my parent's ill-suppressed sighs, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And wish'd myself upon the peaceful bier; + </p> + <p> + I saw the anguish of their sleepless eyes, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The smile dissembled, and the secret tear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oft, with a kind of gratifying woe, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I recollected every former charm, + </p> + <p> + And, with the spleen of a malicious foe, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Delighted still to keep my sorrows warm. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Where is the lustre of the gladsome eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The airy smile, the animated mien, + </p> + <p> + The rounding lip of liveliest crimson dye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + So lately envied, now no longer seen. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "I too have gloried in my waving hair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + No ringlets now remain to raise my pride; + </p> + <p> + Nor can I now lay the white forehead bare, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And push the too luxuriant locks aside." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Thus, like a child, I sigh'd for pleasures past, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lost my hours in a delusive dream; + </p> + <p> + But Reason op'd my blinded eyes at last, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And clear'd each mist by her refulgent beam. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + I saw futurity before me spread, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A scourge or sceptre offer'd to my view, + </p> + <p> + Alarm'd, from Folly's erring mazes fled, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And to my God with humble rev'rence drew. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + I bow'd, submissive, at the holy shrine, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + His mercy with warm gratitude confest, + </p> + <p> + Which had reveal'd the spark of life divine, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That slumber'd in my earth-enamoured breast. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Had I, as friendship and self-love desir'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Still suck'd delirium at the fane of praise, + </p> + <p> + I might, my conscience lull'd and passions fir'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Have lost my soul in the bewitching blaze. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Dear rising train, let not my words offend! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Nor the pure dictates of my love despise; + </p> + <p> + To one, late like yourselves, attention lend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And, taught by his experience, be wise! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah! banish from your eye the fiend Disdain; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Let fair simplicity supply its place; + </p> + <p> + Nor longer let conceit the bosom stain; + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The child of weakness, follow'd by disgrace. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Should time from you each glowing beauty wrest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + You will not then those self-reproaches feel, + </p> + <p> + Which every eye awaken'd in my breast, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And twenty winters scarce suffic'd to heel. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Nor will your friends observe each faded charm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Since still your countenance its smile retains, + </p> + <p> + And the same lov'd companion, kind and warm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With unassuming manners, yet remains. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + SEPT. 8, 1795. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_8"><!-- RULE4 8 --></a> + ON A FAN. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Now I've painted these flowers, say what can I do,<br/> + To render them worthy acceptance from you?<br/> + I know of no sybil, whose wonderful art<br/> + Could to them superior virtues impart,<br/> + Who, of magical influence wonders could tell,<br/> + And, who over each blossom could mutter a spell. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + You only the humbler enchantments can prove,<br/> + That arise from esteem, from respect, and from + love;<br/> + With such I assail you, and pow'rful the charm,<br/> + When applied to a heart sympathetic and warm;<br/> + To a heart such as that, which, if right I divine,<br/> + O C—ll—n—n! dwells in that bosom of + thine. + </p> + <p class="center"> + NOV. 10, 1795. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_9"><!-- RULE4 9 --></a> + TO SIMPLICITY. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Fair village nymph, ah! may I meet + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Thy pleasing form where'er I stray! + </p> + <p> + With open air and converse sweet, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Still cheer my undiscover'd way! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With eyes, that shew the placid mind, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And with no feign'd emotions roll; + </p> + <p> + With mien, that sprightly or resign'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Bespeaks the temper of the soul. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + With smiles, where not the lips alone + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Receive a brighter, vermil hue, + </p> + <p> + The cheek does warmer roses own, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And the eyes beam, a deeper blue! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Though Fashion's minions scorn thy pow'r, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And slight thee, 'cause in russet drest, + </p> + <p> + Yet Joy frequents thy peaceful bow'r, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And sorrow flies to thee for rest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The echoing laugh, the rapturous tear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The smile of friendship, gay and free, + </p> + <p> + Delight but when they are sincere, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And given, lovely nymph, by thee. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + When my Rosina reads a tale, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though sweet the tuneful accents flow, + </p> + <p> + No studied pathos does prevail + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To bid the hearer's bosom glow; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Her voice to sympathy resign'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Each different feeling can impart. + </p> + <p> + And, tell me not, we e'er can find + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A modulator, like the heart! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And Mary's locks of glossy brown, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That fall in waves, with graceful swell, + </p> + <p> + In ever-varying ringlets thrown, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The fairest curls of art excel. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Still rob'd in innocence and ease, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Daughter of Truth, shall thou prevail, + </p> + <p> + When Affectation cannot please, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And all the spells of Fashion fail. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + NOV. 17, 1795. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_10"><!-- RULE4 10 --></a> + THE TERRORS OF GUILT. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Yon coward, with the streaming hair,<br/> + And visage, madden'd to despair,<br/> + With step convuls'd, unsettled eye,<br/> + And bosom lab'ring with a sigh,<br/> + Is <i>Guilt!</i>—Behold, he hears the name,<br/> + And starts with horror, fear, and shame! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + See! slow Suspicion by his side, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With winking, microscopic eye! + </p> + <p> + And Mystery, his muffled guide, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With fearful speech, and head awry. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + See! scowling Malice there attend,<br/> + Bold Falsehood, an apparent friend;<br/> + Avarice, repining o'er his pelf,<br/> + Mean Cunning, lover of himself;<br/> + Hatred, the son of conscious Fear,<br/> + Impatient Envy, with a fiend-like sneer,<br/> + And shades of blasted Hopes, which still are hovering + near! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + All other woes will find relief,<br/> + And time alleviate every grief;<br/> + Memory, though slowly, will decay,<br/> + And Sorrow's empire pass away.<br/> + Awhile Misfortune may controul,<br/> + And Pain oppress the virtuous soul,<br/> + Yet Innocence can still beguile<br/> + The patient sufferer of a smile,<br/> + The beams of Hope may still dispense<br/> + A grateful feeling to the sense;<br/> + Friendship may cast her arms around,<br/> + And with fond tears embalm the wound,<br/> + Or Piety's soft incense rise,<br/> + And waft reflection to the skies;<br/> + But those fell pangs which he endures,<br/> + Nor Time forgets, nor Kindness cures;<br/> + Like Ocean's waves, they still return,<br/> + Like Etna's fires, forever burn. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Round him no genial zephyrs fly,<br/> + No fair horizon glads his eye,<br/> + No joys to him does Nature yield,<br/> + The solemn grove, or laughing field;<br/> + Though both with loud rejoicings ring,<br/> + No pleasure does the echo bring,<br/> + Not bubbling waters as they roll,<br/> + Can tranquillize his bursting soul,<br/> + For Conscience still, with tingling smart,<br/> + Asserts his empire o'er his heart,<br/> + And even when his eye-lids close,<br/> + With clamourous scream affrights repose. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oppress'd with light, he seeks to shun<br/> + The splendid glories of the sun;<br/> + The busy crowds that hover near,<br/> + Torment his eye, distract his ear;<br/> + He hastens to the secret shades,<br/> + Where not a ray the gloom pervades;<br/> + Where Contemplation may retreat,<br/> + And Silence take his mossy seat;<br/> + Yet even there no peace he knows,<br/> + His fev'rish blood, no calmer flows;<br/> + Some hid assassins 'vengeful knife,<br/> + Is rais'd to end his wretched life.<br/> + He shudders, starts, and stares around,<br/> + With breathless fright, to catch the fancied sound;<br/> + Seeks for the dagger in his breast,<br/> + And gripes it 'neath his ruffled vest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Lo! now he plunges in the flood,<br/> + To cleanse his garments, stain'd with blood,<br/> + His sanguine arm, in terror, laves;<br/> + But ah! its hue defies the waves.<br/> + Deprest, bewildered, thence he flies,<br/> + And, to avoid Detection, tries,<br/> + Who, frowning, still before him stands,<br/> + The sword of Justice in her hands;<br/> + Abhorrent Scorn, unpitying Shame,<br/> + And Punishments without a name,<br/> + Still on her sounding steps attend,<br/> + And every added horror lend.<br/> + He turns away, with dread and fear,<br/> + But the fell spectres still are near.<br/> + Though Falsehood's mazes see him wind!<br/> + Yet Infamy is close behind,<br/> + Lifting her horn, with horrors fraught,<br/> + Whose hideous yell is frenzy to the thought. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Now, maniac-like, he comes again,<br/> + And mixes with the jocund train;<br/> + But still those eyes that wildly roll,<br/> + Bespeak the tempest in his soul.<br/> + In yon deep cave he strives to rest,<br/> + But Mem'ry harrows up his breast;<br/> + He clasps the goblet, foe to Care,<br/> + And lo! Distraction hovers there. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah, hapless wretch! condemn'd to know,<br/> + The sad varieties of woe;<br/> + Where'er thy footsteps turn, to meet,<br/> + An earthquake yawning at thy feet,<br/> + While o'er thy head pale meteors glare,<br/> + And boding tempests fill the air,<br/> + In throbbing anguish doom'd to roam,<br/> + Yet never find a peaceful home.<br/> + Haste! to the shrine of Mercy hie,<br/> + There lift the penitential eye,<br/> + With breaking heart thy sins deplore,<br/> + And wound Integrity no more!<br/> + Repentance then thy soul shall save,<br/> + And snatch thee, ransom'd, from the grave. + </p> + <p class="center"> + JULY 1796. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr /> + <p class="center"> + <i>The death of Selred, last King of the East-Saxons, reduced + that part of the Heptarchy to dependance on Mercia. The rest + is imaginary</i>. + </p> + <hr /> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_11"><!-- RULE4 11 --></a> + CEN'LIN, PRINCE OF MERCIA. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + When Britain many chiefs obey'd,<br/> + And seven Saxon princes sway'd,<br/> + The Mercian monarch, fam'd afar,<br/> + In peace respected, fear'd in war,<br/> + Favour'd by heav'n above the rest,<br/> + In his brave son was fully blest;<br/> + For none like Cen'lin did arise,<br/> + So virtuous, elegant, and wise. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Of partial Mercian eyes the joy,<br/> + His parents idoliz'd the boy;<br/> + Saw with just pride each op'ning grace,<br/> + His charms of mind, of form, and face.<br/> + And as he oft, with modest air,<br/> + His thoughts and feelings did declare,<br/> + His father would delighted hear,<br/> + Would fondly drop the grateful tear;<br/> + And proudly cast his eyes around,<br/> + But not an equal could be found.<br/> + Warm from each lip applauses broke,<br/> + And every tongue his praises spoke;<br/> + The list'ning courtiers spread his fame,<br/> + And blessings follow'd Cen'lins name. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Now twenty summer's suns had flown,<br/> + And Mercia's hopes were fully blown;<br/> + When ah! conceal'd in coarse disguise,<br/> + To Selred's<a href="#note-12">12</a> court their + darling flies.<br/> + Selred, his father's scorn and hate,<br/> + Became the ruler of his fate.<br/> + There flatter'd, lov'd, the youth remain'd,<br/> + Till Cenulph's threats his heir regain'd.<br/> + But ah! no more the son of mirth,<br/> + His pensive eye now sought the earth;<br/> + No more within the dance to move,<br/> + Or list to sages, did he love;<br/> + But from surrounding friends would fly,<br/> + To pour in solitude the sigh.<br/> + And soon again the youth withdrew,<br/> + Again to th' Eastern-Saxons flew.<br/> + His father heard, opprest with woe,<br/> + His aged heart forgot to glow;<br/> + He learnt his foes an army led,<br/> + With youthful Cen'lin at their head,<br/> + He call'd his warriors forth to meet,<br/> + And stretch the rebel at his feet:<br/> + Tears from his eyes in anguish broke,<br/> + As thus the aged monarch spoke: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ye Mercians, let your banners fly!<br/> + The graceless youth this day shall die!<br/> + For, since he dares an army bring<br/> + Against his father and his king,<br/> + Though dear as life, I will not spare,<br/> + Nor listen to affection's pray'r!<br/> + If all my people should implore,<br/> + I'll pardon the rash boy no more!<br/> + His harden'd heart, to duty blind,<br/> + No ties of gratitude can bind;<br/> + This hoary head would else have rest,<br/> + And pleasure warm this aching breast.<br/> + Ah, cruel youth! thy wrongs I feel,<br/> + More deep than wounds of pointed steel.<br/> + For, if forlorn the parent's doom,<br/> + Who bears his offspring to the tomb,<br/> + Some comfort still his breast may know,<br/> + Some soothing thought may calm his woe,<br/> + And when he gives a loose to pain,<br/> + He feels not that he mourns in vain,<br/> + But fancies still his darling nigh,<br/> + And grateful for each bursting sigh,<br/> + Still bending o'er, with list'ning ear,<br/> + Each weeping, fond complaint to hear,<br/> + The dear-lov'd phantom hovers round,<br/> + And pours a balm in every wound. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "How doubly poignant is my smart,<br/> + Bereaved of my Cen'lin's heart!<br/> + Exil'd from that deluded breast,<br/> + Where I had fondly hop'd to rest,<br/> + With faith undoubting, sweet repose,<br/> + Till Death should bid my eye-lids close.<br/> + And sometimes yet will hope arise;<br/> + Till now he ever scorn'd disguise;<br/> + Some cursed fiend might taint his youth,<br/> + And warp a temper form'd for truth.<br/> + When late he humbly knelt for grace,<br/> + And clasp'd my knees in close embrace,<br/> + Upon his lips a secret hung,<br/> + But something seem'd to stay his tongue;<br/> + I prest not, for my anger slept,<br/> + And fondness only saw he wept;<br/> + Ah! fatal haste! then had I known<br/> + The serpent, I had sav'd my son!<br/> + Yet surely pardon frank as mine,<br/> + A noble heart would more confine!<br/> + When leaguing with my bitter foe,<br/> + To strike some grand, decisive blow;<br/> + Perhaps to rob me of my throne,<br/> + And make it, ere the time, his own;<br/> + Or, should wan guilt a danger dread,<br/> + To humble this devoted head,<br/> + Each throbbing pang of conscience drown,<br/> + And seize, with bloody hands, the crown.<br/> + O'er this offence I cast a veil,<br/> + And fondly hush'd the whisper'd tale.<br/> + Ah fool! deluded by the grace,<br/> + Of that fine form, and perfect face;<br/> + I thought his bosom free from sin,<br/> + Nor dreamt a demon lurk'd within.<br/> + His voice, which ever could controul,<br/> + Each passion of the hearer's soul,<br/> + With ease my partial heart beguil'd,<br/> + Who knew no sorrows when he smil'd.<br/> + And ah! my friends, your downcast eyes,<br/> + Your pensive air, and smother'd sighs,<br/> + All tell me you lament the fate,<br/> + Of him, whom yet you cannot hate.<br/> + And shall I bear then to behold,<br/> + That form inanimate and cold,<br/> + His smiling lips depriv'd of breath,<br/> + His eyes for ever clos'd in death!<br/> + Ah no! my heart with anguish swells,<br/> + And every throbbing vein rebels.<br/> + Let sorrow weep, or anger thrill,<br/> + Yet all the parent triumphs still. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Oh Father! who in mercy reigns,<br/> + If thy all-ruling will ordains,<br/> + That my unhappy Cen'lin dies,<br/> + Remove the picture from my eyes!<br/> + At the same moment set us free,<br/> + Both rebel sons, my God, to thee!"<br/> + Thus did the king pour forth his pray'r,<br/> + With all the wildness of despair;<br/> + Then, stilling every rising sigh,<br/> + He calm'd the anguish of his eye,<br/> + And though within the burthen lay,<br/> + He wip'd the falling tears away. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + When lo! there comes a youthful train,<br/> + Descending swiftly to the plain,<br/> + Drest like the fairest sons of day,<br/> + In floating robes and colours gay;<br/> + No crested helmets there appear,<br/> + No glittering shield or pointed spear,<br/> + But youths with honey-suckles crown'd,<br/> + Or their fair locks with fillets bound,<br/> + Whose circling ranks and varied dyes,<br/> + Shew'd like the bow, that gilds the skies.<br/> + Whilst in the van a pair were seen,<br/> + Of peerless charms and graceful mien;<br/> + One lovely form the Mercians knew,<br/> + And gladden'd at the pleasing view,<br/> + Who, with the glow of youthful prime,<br/> + Had all the majesty of time.<br/> + And beauteous was the fair he led,<br/> + As any fabled Grecian maid;<br/> + The nymphs who tend Aurora's car,<br/> + And usher in the morning star,<br/> + Though made inhabitants of air,<br/> + Were not more elegant and fair;<br/> + Nor Dian's ever-healthful train,<br/> + When skimming o'er the spacious plain.<br/> + Had not more pure, more lively dyes,<br/> + Or brighter lustre in their eyes. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The king, so late by woe deprest,<br/> + Felt hope reanimate his breast,<br/> + And as his Cen'lin nearer drew,<br/> + His waking hopes more vivid grew.<br/> + "My friends," he cried, "will you believe,<br/> + That open mien can e'er deceive?<br/> + That blooming form can e'er unfold,<br/> + A heart ungenerous and cold,<br/> + That melting softness of the eye,<br/> + Can harbour direst cruelty?<br/> + Ah no! a poison's baleful pow'r,<br/> + Lurks not beneath so fair a flow'r.<br/> + Nor are those youths with amber hair,<br/> + Such as fell treason would prepare,<br/> + An aged monarch to dethrone,<br/> + And hear, unmov'd, a father's groan.<br/> + Gay are their looks, no dark disguise,<br/> + Dims the mild radiance of their eyes;<br/> + No murderous thoughts their souls employ,<br/> + But, heralds of transporting joy,<br/> + They come to bid suspicion cease,<br/> + And sooth my sorrow into peace."<br/> + Caution could scarce awhile controul<br/> + The strong delights of Cenulph's soul,<br/> + When Cen'lin knelt, and by his side<br/> + Half-kneeling, bent his lovely bride.<br/> + But, when he first essay'd to speak,<br/> + A hasty blush pass'd o'er his cheek,<br/> + He hung awhile his graceful head,<br/> + Till thus, with air confus'd he said:<br/> + "I come, by love with honours crown'd,<br/> + Yet sorrow casts a shade around,<br/> + That when my consort here I bring,<br/> + The heiress of a potent king,<br/> + The Mercians, clad in armour, come,<br/> + To lead their princess to her home.<br/> + No joyful hail our nuptial greets,<br/> + No proof of love my Ela meets,<br/> + But scarlet banners, waving high,<br/> + The bridal knot and wreath supply.<br/> + Alas! I see mistrust has won<br/> + E'en Cenulph's fondness from his son;<br/> + Or could my ever-honour'd sire,<br/> + A proof of Cen'lin's faith require?<br/> + Can force so needful now appear,<br/> + To aid a pow'r which I revere?<br/> + When eager beauty's form to view,<br/> + I first to Selred's court withdrew,<br/> + A single wish thy pow'r maintain'd,<br/> + A single wish thy son regain'd.<br/> + I left the maid whose matchless charms,<br/> + Each rooted prejudice disarms,<br/> + Who rul'd my heart with sovereign sway,<br/> + And taught a Mercian to obey<br/> + Laws that East-Saxons can impart,<br/> + When wit and beauty string the dart;<br/> + Left her when hope my doubts beguil'd,<br/> + And on our love her father smil'd.<br/> + Oft have I tried to win thine ear,<br/> + The fond, romantic tale to hear,<br/> + But when I found a lonely hour,<br/> + My coward soul has lost the pow'r;<br/> + As on my lips the accents hung,<br/> + Thy hate to Selred check'd my tongue.<br/> + Yet flattering hopes my passion fed,<br/> + And from thy court again I fled;<br/> + I thought when you my fair beheld,<br/> + And knew how greatly she excell'd,<br/> + In every charm, each art refin'd,<br/> + And virtue of the female mind,<br/> + Thy judgment would approve my choice,<br/> + And bless it with a cheerful voice.<br/> + And ah! though fortune did combine<br/> + With love, in making Ela mine,<br/> + I cannot from a grief refrain,<br/> + Remembering that I gave thee pain.<br/> + Yet if thy Cen'lin e'er could please,<br/> + If e'er my cares could give thee ease,<br/> + Let mild affection now arise,<br/> + And beam forgiveness from thine eyes!<br/> + No more thy son shall make thee know<br/> + A pain, or give thee cause of woe.<br/> + No nights the Mercians have to fear,<br/> + For all I love is center'd here,"<br/> + He spoke, and o'er his father's soul,<br/> + A stream of healing comfort stole;<br/> + He rose, with slow, majestic grace,<br/> + Tears of delight adorn'd his face,<br/> + His pious heart with rapture glow'd,<br/> + And joy a second youth bestow'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "To meet thee thus, my son," he cried,<br/> + "This peerless maiden for your bride,<br/> + Bids each distressing thought depart,<br/> + And joy again possess my heart.<br/> + Fair princess, thine the happy fate,<br/> + To heal the wounds of mutual hate;<br/> + No longer shall this bosom know,<br/> + An Eastern-Saxon as my foe;<br/> + And she, who bids that passion rest,<br/> + Doubt not, shall be supremely blest;<br/> + The part is holy and benign,<br/> + Befitting such a form as thine.<br/> + This day, far dearer than before,<br/> + Kind heav'n does twice my son restore,<br/> + For by those speaking looks I see,<br/> + Another valued child in thee." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + As then he raised them to his breast,<br/> + Around the joyful Mercians prest,<br/> + And made their shouts of triumph rise,<br/> + To the fair concave of the skies. + </p> + <p class="center"> + OCTOBER 1795. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="note-12"><!-- Note Anchor 12 --></a>12: King of the + East-Saxons. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_12"><!-- RULE4 12 --></a> + RHAPSODY. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Lo! here a cloud comes sailing, richly clad<br/> + In royal purple, which the parting beams<br/> + Of bounteous Phoebus edge with tints of gold<br/> + And lucid crimson. One might fancy it<br/> + A noble bird, that laves its graceful form,<br/> + And bathes its rosy bosom in the light.<br/> + Look! how it swells and rears its snowy crest<br/> + With haughty grandeur; while the blue expanse,<br/> + In smiling patience lets the boaster pass,<br/> + And swell his train with all the lazy vapours<br/> + That hover in the air: an easy prey<br/> + To the gigantic phantom, whose curl'd wing,<br/> + Sweeps in these worthless triflers of the sky,<br/> + And wraps them in his bosom. Go, vain shadow!<br/> + Sick with the burthen of thy fancied greatness,<br/> + A breath of zephyr wafts thee into nothing,<br/> + Scatters thy spreading plumes, uncrowns thy front,<br/> + And drives thee downward to thy mother earth,<br/> + To mix with vapour and dissolve in dew. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Such are the dreams of hope, which to the eye<br/> + Of youthful inexperience, seem to touch<br/> + The pure, unclouded sky of certainty.<br/> + Buoy'd up by the fond eloquence of thought,<br/> + And nurtur'd by the smile of vanity,<br/> + Each hour the air-born vision gathers bulk,<br/> + And Fancy decks it with a thousand hues,<br/> + Varied and wild, till it abounds in charms<br/> + Which sink the soul to sadness, when the breath<br/> + Of gentle Reason breaks the beauteous bubble,<br/> + And leaves us nought but vain regret behind. + </p> + <p class="center"> + FEBRUARY 1, 1797. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_13"><!-- RULE4 13 --></a> + HUMAN PLEASURE OR PAIN. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + When clouds and rain deform the sky, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And light'nings glare around, + </p> + <p> + Amidst the dreary, cheerless scene, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Some comfort may be found. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + There will, at some far-distant spot, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A streak of light appear, + </p> + <p> + Or, when the sullen vapours break, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The ether will be clear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And if the sun illumes the east, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And sheds his gladsome ray, + </p> + <p> + Some boding mist, or passing cloud + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Will threat the rising day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The heart rejoicing in the view, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And dancing with delight, + </p> + <p> + Oft feels the touch of palsied fear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And sinks at thought of night. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + So Hope's bright torch more clearly shines, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Amidst surrounding gloom, + </p> + <p> + And, beldame Fortune vainly throws + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Her mantle o'er the tomb. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + MARCH 15,1797. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_14"><!-- RULE4 14 --></a> + THE COMPLAINT OF FANCY. + </h2> + <h3> + To A.R.C. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + As, musing, late I sat reclin'd,<br/> + And waking dreams absorb'd my mind,<br/> + A damsel came, of various dyes,<br/> + Like painted Iris from the skies;<br/> + A purfled saffron was her vest,<br/> + And sweet gum-cistus form'd her crest;<br/> + In many a playful ring, her hair<br/> + Flew light and flossy in the air;<br/> + The mantle, blue and gold, she wore,<br/> + A rose of opals held before,<br/> + While, graceful in her fairy hand,<br/> + Appear'd a crimson-tufted wand,<br/> + Whose shade on every object threw<br/> + A glowing tint of roseate hue. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Whence art thou, blooming nymph?" I cried,<br/> + And thus a tuneful voice replied:<br/> + "Men call me Fancy; at my shrine<br/> + Myriads confess my power divine;<br/> + There painters bend the willing knee,<br/> + And laurell'd poets sue to me:<br/> + For mine is every vivid ray,<br/> + Which partial Nature gave the day;<br/> + And, to the music of my song,<br/> + A thousand nameless charms belong. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "The friend of Happiness, I dwell<br/> + Belov'd alike in court or cell;<br/> + Where Glory lifts her ardent eye,<br/> + With hasty, kindred zeal I fly,<br/> + In sun-beams place the hero's form,<br/> + And bid his arm command the storm;<br/> + On swelling clouds an altar raise,<br/> + And fan the tow'ring flame of praise. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Oft, from the lorn enthusiast's lyre,<br/> + My fingers strike etherial fire,<br/> + And give to sounds of piercing woe,<br/> + Extatic rapture's fervent glow.<br/> + Oft sooth the maniac's throbbing vein,<br/> + And grace her simple, wilder'd strain;<br/> + The tribe of Pain in fetters keep,<br/> + Lull wounded Memory to sleep,<br/> + And, in the mind of gloomy Care,<br/> + Bid Thought an angel's semblance wear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Dear to each blest aerial pow'r,<br/> + E'en Wisdom calls me to her bow'r;<br/> + My songs her leisure hours beguile,<br/> + And teach her holy lip to smile.<br/> + And, when the Muse, with thoughtful care,<br/> + Has woven chaplets for her hair,<br/> + I let her, with her myrtles, twine,<br/> + Full many a fragrant rose of mine. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Then why, since all the wise and gay,<br/> + To me a grateful homage pay,<br/> + Since I to all my hand extend,<br/> + And, liberal, every heart befriend,<br/> + Does Nancy from the croud retire,<br/> + And rend my blossoms from her lyre?<br/> + Though every string the loss bewail,<br/> + And tones of mellow sweetness fail,<br/> + Which us'd to charm the pensive ear,<br/> + When list'ning Friendship bent to hear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Tell her I wish not to intrude<br/> + Upon her sacred solitude,<br/> + Nor cast my undulating chain,<br/> + Around her glowing heart again;<br/> + No! every claim I now resign,<br/> + Yet let some small regard be mine;<br/> + Let one, who nurs'd her infant years,<br/> + And wip'd away some bitter tears,<br/> + Still animate the scenes around,<br/> + And make her tread on fairy ground;<br/> + Give playful sweetness to each lay,<br/> + And decorate the passing day. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Tell her, if now she scorns my strain,<br/> + She may invoke my name in vain;<br/> + In vain my proffered aid implore,<br/> + Contemn'd, I hardly pardon more." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + She said, and springing from the earth,<br/> + Attending found her suitor Mirth,<br/> + Who caught her hand, with lively air,<br/> + And plac'd her in his silver chair,<br/> + Which through the yielding ether flew,<br/> + And quickly bore them from my view. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3><a name="RULE4_14a"><!-- RULE4 14 --></a> + ON THE + </h3> + <h2> + EVE OF DEPARTURE + </h2> + <h3> + From O—— + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Loud beats the rain! The hollow groan + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of rushing winds I hear, + </p> + <p> + That with a deep and sullen moan, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Pass slowly by the ear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Soon will my dying fire refuse + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To yield a cheerful ray, + </p> + <p> + Yet, shivering still I sit and muse + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The latest spark away. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah, what a night! the chilly air + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Bids comfort hence depart, + </p> + <p> + While sad repining's clammy wings + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Cling icy, to my heart. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + To-morrow's dawn may fair arise, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lovely to the view; + </p> + <p> + The sun with radiance gild the skies, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Yet then—I say adieu! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Oh, stay, dear Night, with cautious care, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lingering footsteps move, + </p> + <p> + Though day may be more soft and fair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Not her, but thee, I love. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Stay, wild in brow, severe in mien, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Stay! and ward off the foe; + </p> + <p> + Who, unrelenting smiles serene, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Yet tells me I must go. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Forsake these hospitable halls, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Where Truth and Friendship dwell, + </p> + <p> + To these high towers and ancient walls, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Pronounce a long farewell. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Alas! will Time's rapacious hand, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + These golden days restore? + </p> + <p> + Or will he suffer me to taste + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + These golden days no more? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Will he permit that here again, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I turn my willing feet? + </p> + <p> + That my glad eyes may here again, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The look of kindness meet? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + That here I ever may behold, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Felicity to dwell, + </p> + <p> + And often have the painful task + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of sighing out farewell? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah, be it so! my fears I lose, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By hope's sweet visions fed; + </p> + <p> + And as I fly to seek repose, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + She flutters round my bed. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + NOV. 17, 1796. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_15"><!-- RULE4 15 --></a> + TO M.I. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Thou, Margaret, lov'st the secret shade, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The murmuring brook, or tow'ring tree; + </p> + <p> + The village cot within the glade, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lonely walk have charms for thee. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + To thee more dear the jasmine bow'r, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That shelt'ring, undisturb'd retreat, + </p> + <p> + Than the high canopy of pow'r, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or Luxury's embroider'd seat. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + More sweet the early morning breeze, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Whose odours fill the rural vale, + </p> + <p> + The waving bosom of the seas, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When ruffled by the rising gale. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Than all which pride or pomp bestow, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To grace the lofty Indian maid, + </p> + <p> + Who prizes more the diamond's glow, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Than all in humbler vest array'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Sweet is the rural festive song, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which sounds so wildly o'er the plain, + </p> + <p> + When thoughtless mirth the notes prolong, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And heart-felt pleasure pours the strain. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Sweet is the dance where light and gay, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The village maiden trips along; + </p> + <p> + Her simple robe in careless play, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + As her fleet step winds round the throng. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Sweet is the labourer's blazing fire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When evening shades invite to rest; + </p> + <p> + Though weary, home does joy inspire, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And social love dilates his breast. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + His rural lass with glee prepares, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The dainties fondness made her hoard; + </p> + <p> + Her husband now the banquet shares, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And children croud around the board. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ah! who could wish to view the air + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of listless ease and languid wealth? + </p> + <p> + Who with such pleasures could compare + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The joys of innocence and health? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + AUGUST 20, 1796. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_16"><!-- RULE4 16 --></a> + CANTATA. DEL METASTASIO. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + "D'atre nubi è il sol ravvolto, + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + Luce infausta il Ciel colora. + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + Pur chi sa? Quest' alma ancora + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + La speranza non perdè. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Non funesta ogni tempesta + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + Co' naufragj all' onde il seno; + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + Ogni tuono, ogni baleno + </p> + <p class="poem4"> + Sempre un fulmine non è." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <h3> + TRANSLATION. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Dark, mournful clouds hang o'er the sun, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Lights gleam portentous in the air, + </p> + <p> + And yet who knows? This troubled heart + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Still gives not up to blank despair. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Not big with shipwrecks every storm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That sweeps the bosom of the main, + </p> + <p> + Nor does the threatening, turbid sky, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Always the thunder-bolt contain. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + LA FORTUNA. DELLO STESSO. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + A chi serena io miro, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Chiaro è di notte il cielo: + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Torna per lui nel gelo + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + La terra a germogliar. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Ma se a taluno io giro + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Torbido il guardo, e fosco, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Fronde gli niega il bosco, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Onde non trova in mar. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <h3> + TRANSLATION. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + To him whom kindly I behold, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The midnight sky is clear, + </p> + <p> + And 'mid the wintry frost and cold, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The blushing flowers appear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + But to the wretch who meets my eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When kindled by disdain, + </p> + <p> + The very grove will leaves deny, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And waveless be the main. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CANTATA DELLO STESSO. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Finchè un zeffiro soave + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Tien del mar l'ira placata, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Ogni nave + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + È fortunata, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + È felice ogni nocchier; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + È ben prova di coraggio + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Incontrar l'onde funeste, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Navigar fra le tempeste, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + E non perdere il sentier. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <h3> + TRANSLATION. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Whilst zephyr sooths the angry waves + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of Ocean into rest, + </p> + <p> + Each vessel is in safety borne, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And every pilot blest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + But he indeed demands our praise, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Who stems the tempest's force, + </p> + <p> + And midst the ire of hostile waves, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Pursues his destin'd course. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_22"><!-- RULE4 22 --></a> + SONETTO. + </h2> + <h3> + DI GIOVANNI DELLA CASA. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Oh sonno, oh della cheta, umida, ombrosa + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Notte placido figlio; oh de' mortali + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Egri conforto, oblio dolce de' mali, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Sì gravi, ond' è la vita aspra, e nojosa: + </p> + <p> + Soccorri al core omai, che langue, e posa + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Non have; e queste membra stanche, e frali + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Solleva: a me ten vola, oh sonno, e l'ali + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Tue brune sovra me distendi, e posa. + </p> + <p> + Ov' è il silenzio, che'l dì fugge, e'l + lume? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + E i lievi sogni, che con non secure + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Vestigia di seguirti han per costume? + </p> + <p> + Lasso, che'nvan te chiamo, e queste oscure, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + E gelide ombre invan lusingo; oh piume + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + D'asprezza colme; oh notti acerbe, e dure! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + SONNET, TO SLEEP. + </h2> + <h3> + TRANSLATION. + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Son of the silent, dark, and humid Night, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Consoler of the wretched, by whose sway + </p> + <p> + The gloomy train of ills are put to flight, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That blacken Life's uncertain, tedious day, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + O! succour now this restless, pining heart! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Give to these feeble, weary limbs repose! + </p> + <p> + Fly to me, Sleep! and let thy sombre wings + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Over my couch their dusky plumes disclose! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + O! where is Silence, who avoids the light? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Where the wild dreams that flutter in thy train? + </p> + <p> + Alas! in vain I call thee, cruel Night! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And flatter these insensate shades in vain. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And oh! without thy cheering dews are shed,<br/> + How full of hardships is the downy bed! + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_24"><!-- RULE4 24 --></a> + EDITHA. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Breathing the violet-scented gale, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Near to a river's limpid source, + </p> + <p> + Which, through a wide-extended vale, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Wound slowly on its sleeping course, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Attended by a youthful pair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With rubied lip and roving eye, + </p> + <p> + Oft would fair Editha repair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And let her children wander nigh. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + There pleas'd behold their footsteps turn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To each new object in their way, + </p> + <p> + Their ringlets glittering in the sun, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Their faces careless, blythe, and gay. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Once, when they drest their flaxen hair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With flow'rets wild of various hue, + </p> + <p> + And with a proud, exulting air, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To their delighted parent drew: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ah! thus may every day arise! + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And pleasure thus your hearts, pervade!" + </p> + <p> + The widow'd mother fondly cries, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + "Before the youthful blossoms fade. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "My sighs are all dispers'd in air, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Resign'd to fate, I weep no more, + </p> + <p> + Your welfare now is all my care, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Yet am I constant as before. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "The world, because a vermil bloom, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Tinges my yet unfading cheek, + </p> + <p> + Says I forget my William's tomb, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A new and earthly love to seek. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Because I join the social train, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With lip that wears a kindred smile; + </p> + <p> + And a gay sonnet's lively strain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Does oft the lonely hour beguile: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Because no longer now I mourn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With sweeping robes of sable hue; + </p> + <p> + No more I clasp the marble urn, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or vainly bid the world adieu. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Ah! ill my secret soul they know, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Where my lost hero still remains, + </p> + <p> + Where memory makes my bosom glow, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And binds me still in closer chains. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Whoe'er hath seen my William's form, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Heighten'd with every martial grace, + </p> + <p> + The ever-varying, unknown charm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which beam'd in his expressive face; + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Or heard his fine ideas try, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + In Fancy's fairy garb to teach, + </p> + <p> + While the sweet language of his eye, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Excell'd the eloquence of speech, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Could ne'er suppose my faith would fail, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or aught again this heart enslave; + </p> + <p> + That absence would o'er love prevail, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Or hope be bounded by the grave. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Could all but I his merit know? + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + His wit and talents see? + </p> + <p> + And is his name by all below + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Remember'd, but by me? + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No, ne'er will I the memory lose, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Though from my sight thy form is flown, + </p> + <p> + Of tenderness for other's woes, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And noble firmness in thy own. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "No slavish fear thy soul deprest, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of Death, or his attendant train; + </p> + <p> + For in thy pure and spotless breast, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The fear of heav'n did only reign. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Thus, when the still-unsated waves + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Spread o'er thy head their whelming arms, + </p> + <p> + When horrid darkness reign'd around, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And lightnings flash'd their dire alarms, + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + <a href="#note-13">13</a>"When, wing'd with death, each + moment flew, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And blood the foaming ocean stain'd, + </p> + <p> + Thy courage cool, consistent, true, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Its native energy maintain'd. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "And when the fatal moment came, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The bullet enter'd in thy side, + </p> + <p> + Only thy spirit's beauteous frame, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Its prisoner flying, droop'd and died. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "This is it that consoles my mind, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Which to my love aspiring flies, + </p> + <p> + And makes me hope, in future days, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + To hail my William in the skies. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "Should tears from my pale eyelids steal, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + I teach my children's how to flow, + </p> + <p> + And make their little bosoms feel, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Before their time, the touch, of woe. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + "I will not weep! the world shall see + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That I a nobler tribute pay; + </p> + <p> + More grateful both to heaven and thee, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + By guiding them in virtue's way." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Embracing then her fondest cares, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + She cast her raptur'd eyes above, + </p> + <p> + And breath'd to heav'n emphatic pray'rs, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Of mingled reverence and love. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + APRIL 15, 1795. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="note-13"><!-- Note Anchor 13 --></a>13: I know not + if I have expressed myself with much clearness here, but I + meant to describe a sea-fight as concisely as possible. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_25"><!-- RULE4 25 --></a> + TO M.I. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Light breezes dance along the air, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The sky in smiles is drest, + </p> + <p> + And heav'ns pure vault, serene and fair, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Pourtrays the cheerful breast. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Each object on this moving ball + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Assumes a lovely hue; + </p> + <p> + So fair good-humour brightens all + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + That comes within her view. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Her presence glads the youthful train, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Reanimates the gay, + </p> + <p> + And, round her, by the couch of pain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + The light-wing'd graces play. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Her winning mein and prompt reply, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Can sullen pride appease; + </p> + <p> + And the sweet arching of her eye + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + E'en apathy must please. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + To you, with whom the damsel dwells + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A voluntary guest, + </p> + <p> + To you, Maria, memory tells, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + This tribute is addrest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The feeble strains that I bequeath, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With melody o'erpay; + </p> + <p> + And let thy lov'd piano breathe + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A sweet responsive lay. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Although the mellow sounds will rise, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + So distant from my ear, + </p> + <p> + The charmer Fancy, when she tries, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Can make them present here. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Can paint thee, as with raptur'd bend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + You hail the powers of song; + </p> + <p> + When the light fingers quick descend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And fly the notes along: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Feel the soft chord of sadness meet, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + An echo in the soul, + </p> + <p> + And waking joy the strains repeat, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + When Mirth's-quick measures roll. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + This "mistress of the powerful spell," + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Can every joy impart; + </p> + <p> + And ah! you doubtless know too well + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + How she can wring the heart. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + She rules me with despotic reign, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + As now I say <i>adieu</i>; + </p> + <p> + And makes me feel a sort of pain, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + As if I spoke to you. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p class="center"> + FEB. 14, 1797. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3><a name="RULE4_26"><!-- RULE4 26 --></a> + WRITTEN IN + </h3> + <h2> + ZIMMERMANN'S SOLITUDE. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Hail, melancholy sage! whose thoughtful eye,<br/> + Shrunk from the mere <i>spectator's</i> careless + gaze,<br/> + And, in retirement sought the social smile,<br/> + The heart-endearing aspect, and the voice<br/> + Of soothing tenderness, which Friendship breathes,<br/> + And which sounds far more grateful to the ear,<br/> + Than the soft notes of distant flute at eve,<br/> + Stealing across the waters: Zimmermann!<br/> + Thou draw'st not Solitude as others do,<br/> + With folded arms, with pensive, nun-like air,<br/> + And tearful eye, averted from mankind.<br/> + No! warm, benign, and cheerful, she appears<br/> + The friend of Health, of Piety, and Peace;<br/> + The kind Samaritan that heals our woes,<br/> + The nurse of Science, and, of future fame<br/> + The gentle harbinger: her meek abode<br/> + Is that dear home, which still the virtuous heart,<br/> + E'en in the witching maze of Pleasure's dance,<br/> + In wild Ambition's dream, regards with love,<br/> + And hopes, with fond security, to pass<br/> + The evening of a long-protracted day,<br/> + Serenely joyful, there. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3><a name="RULE4_27"><!-- RULE4 27 --></a> + IN MEMORY OF + </h3> + <h2> + MR. AGOSTINO ISOLA, + </h2> + <h3> + OF CAMBRIDGE, + </h3> + <p class="center"> + Who died on the 5th of June, 1797. + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Awake, O Gratitude! nor let the tears<br/> + Of selfish Sorrow smother up thy voice,<br/> + When it should speak of a departed friend.<br/> + A tender friend, the first I ever lost!<br/> + For Destiny till now was merciful,<br/> + And though I oft have felt a transient pang,<br/> + For worth unknown, and wept awhile for those,<br/> + Whom long acquaintance only made me love,<br/> + No keen regret laid pining at my heart,<br/> + Nor Memory in the solitary hour,<br/> + Would sting with grief, as when she speaks<br/> + Thy virtue, knowledge, wisdom, gentleness,<br/> + Thy venerable age, and says that I<br/> + Had once the happiness to call thee friend. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Yes! I once bore that title, and my heart<br/> + Thought nobler of itself, that one so good,<br/> + So honor'd, so rever'd, should give it me.<br/> + O <i>Isola!</i> when that glad season comes,<br/> + Which brought redemption to a ruin'd world,<br/> + And, like thee, hides beneath the snow of age,<br/> + A gay, benevolent, and feeling heart,<br/> + I hop'd again to hear thy tongue repeat,<br/> + With youthful warmth and zealous energy,<br/> + Those passages, where Poetry assumes<br/> + An air divine, and wakes th' attentive soul<br/> + To holy rapture! Then you promis'd me<br/> + The luxury to weep o'er Dante's muse,<br/> + And fair Italia's loftier poets hail. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p style="text-align: right"> + I have often heard + </p> + <p> + That years would blunt the feelings of the soul, + </p> + <p> + And apathy ice the once-glowing heart. + </p> + <p> + Injurious prejudice! Dear, guileless friend! + </p> + <p> + Thou read'st mankind, but saw not, or forgot + </p> + <p> + Their faults and vices; for thy breast was still + </p> + <p> + The residence of sweet Simplicity, + </p> + <p> + Daughter of letter'd Wisdom, and the friend + </p> + <p> + Of Love and Pity. Happy soul, farewell! + </p> + <p> + Long shall we mourn thee! longer will it be, + </p> + <p> + "Ere we shall look upon thy like again!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + <p> + This humble tribute to the memory of my venerated friend, was + written in the first impulse of my sorrow for his loss, and + though unworthy of his virtues, is still a small memorial of + my respect for a man, on whose tomb might justly be + inscribed, as I have seen on an old monument: + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="poem2"> + "Heven hath his soule. + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + He fruits of Pietie, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + This Towne his want. + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Our hearts his Memorie." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_28"><!-- RULE4 28 --></a> + TO THE NUNS OF BODNEY. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Ye holy women, say! will ye accept<br/> + The passing tribute of a humble friend?<br/> + Stranger indeed to you and to your faith,<br/> + But O! I hope not stranger to the zeal,<br/> + Which warm'd your bosoms in Religion's cause.<br/> + When impious men commanded you to break<br/> + The vow which bound your souls, and which in youth<br/> + Warm Piety's emphatic lips had made.<br/> + Say! will ye suffer me on that rude tomb,<br/> + Where she reposes (whose benignant smile,<br/> + Whose animated, life-inspiring eye,<br/> + And faded form, majestic, still appears<br/> + In Thought's delusive hour) to shed a tear?<br/> + On her, whose sainted look, though seen but once,<br/> + I never can forget, till Time shall wrap<br/> + The veil of Death around me, and make dumb<br/> + The voice of Memory. Ah! "how low she lies!"<br/> + No marble monument to speak her praise,<br/> + And tell the world that here a DILLON rests.<br/> + One, who in beauty's prime forsook the world,<br/> + And, <i>self-bereav'd</i> of all it holds most + dear,<br/> + Retir'd, to pass the pilgrimage of life,<br/> + In solemn prayer and peaceful solitude.<br/> + Ah, vain desire! Ambition's scowling eye<br/> + Must see the cloister, as the palace, low,<br/> + And meek-ey'd Quiet quit her last abode,<br/> + Ere he can pause to look upon the wreck,<br/> + And rue the wild impatience of his hand. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Hail! blessed spirit! This rude cypher'd stone.<br/> + On which a sister's pensive eye shall muse<br/> + In sorrow, and another relative<br/> + In sweet, though mournful, recollection, bend,<br/> + Shall call a tear into the stranger's eye<br/> + Whene'er he hears the tale, yet make him proud<br/> + That Britain's hospitable land should yield<br/> + All that you could accept, <i>an humble grave</i>. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3> + <i>Written in London, on the 19th of March, 1796.</i> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + A lov'd companion, chosen friend, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Does at this hour depart, + </p> + <p> + Whom the dear name of father binds + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Still closer to my heart. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + On him may joy-dispensing heav'n + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Each calm delight bestow, + </p> + <p> + And eas'd of peace-destroying care + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + His life serenely flow! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Did I but know his bosom calm, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + And free from anxious fear, + </p> + <p> + Around me in more cheerful hues + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Would every scene appear. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + And I will hope that he, who ne'er + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Repin'd at heav'n's decree, + </p> + <p> + But ever patient and resign'd, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Submissive bent the knee: + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Who, best of fathers, never sought + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + For arbitrary sway, + </p> + <p> + But free within each youthful mind, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + Bade Reason lead the way. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Who taught us, 'stead of servile fear, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + A warm esteem to prove, + </p> + <p> + And bade each act of duty spring, + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + From gratitude and love. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Yes, I must hope that generous mind + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With many cares opprest, + </p> + <p> + Shall in the winter of his days + </p> + <p class="poem2"> + With sweet repose be blest. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr /> + <p class="center"> + <i>A friend, a year or two ago, gave me</i> Joseph's + Reconciliation with his Brethren, <i>as a subject to write + upon; but I was afraid of not treating it in such a manner as + a sacred story deserved, and gave up the attempt, when I had + written little more than the following lines, to account for + their not knowing him, although he well remembered them; and + am persuaded to let them appear here</i>. + </p> + <hr /> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_29"><!-- RULE4 29 --></a> + FRAGMENT. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <hr style="width: 35%" /> + <p> + They, ere he left them, had attain'd their prime<br/> + And were less alter'd by the hand of Time;<br/> + But, the slim youth no longer met their view,<br/> + Fair, as the fancy e'er a seraph drew.<br/> + Who still, upborne by joy, in smiles was found,<br/> + With step elate that scarcely press'd the ground.<br/> + Before a grief had raz'd his youthful breast,<br/> + Or care had robb'd his brilliant eyes of rest.<br/> + When lofty visions swam before his sight,<br/> + And dreams of empire wrapt his soul at night.<br/> + Whose hair luxuriant flow'd in glossy pride,<br/> + And, from his snowy forehead, wav'd aside;<br/> + Which, vein'd with purest azure, rose serene,<br/> + And threw complacence o'er a rapturous mien.<br/> + The wandering light that sparkled in his eye,<br/> + The rounding lip of liveliest crimson dye,<br/> + The speaking form, by each emotion sway'd,<br/> + The voice, that softest music had convey'd,<br/> + Were now matur'd. No more the child they saw,<br/> + But one, with majesty, inspiring awe;<br/> + Whose silken locks no more in ringlets flow,<br/> + But gold and purple bind his manly brow:<br/> + No more the envied robe his limbs invest,<br/> + In all the pomp of eastern monarchs drest.<br/> + The sun of Egypt had embrown'd his face,<br/> + And time had ripen'd every youthful grace. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + As when the morn, in vivid colours gay,<br/> + And tender beauty, flies to meet the day,<br/> + Her lively tints lose their primeval hue,<br/> + The white and saffron mingle with the blue,<br/> + A glowing blush o'er the whole ether reigns,<br/> + But not a cloud its genuine tint retains. + </p> + <hr style="width: 35%" /> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2><a name="RULE4_30"><!-- RULE4 30 --></a> + FRAGMENT. + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + Where yonder mossy ruins lie,<br/> + And desolation strikes the eye,<br/> + A noble mansion, high and fair,<br/> + Once rear'd its turrets in the air.<br/> + There infant warriors drew their breath,<br/> + And learn'd to scorn the fear of death.<br/> + In halls where martial trophies hung,<br/> + They listen'd while the minstrels sung,<br/> + Of pain and glory, toil and care,<br/> + And all the horrid charms of war:<br/> + There caught the fond desire of fame,<br/> + And panted for a hero's name.<br/> + Alas! too oft in youthful bloom,<br/> + Renown has crown'd the early tomb,<br/> + Has pierc'd the widow's bosom deep,<br/> + And taught the mother's eyes to weep.<br/> + She, on whose tale the stripling hung,<br/> + While pride and sorrow rul'd her tongue.<br/> + His father's gallant acts to tell,<br/> + How bold he fought, how bravely fell. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Methinks e'en now I hear her speak,<br/> + I see the tear upon her cheek;<br/> + The musing boy's abstracted brow,<br/> + And the high-arching eye below.<br/> + The stifled sigh and anxious heave,<br/> + The kindling heart which dares not grieve;<br/> + The finely-elevated head,<br/> + The hand upon the bosom spread,<br/> + Proclaim him wrought by potent charms,<br/> + And speak his very soul in arms. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Incautious zeal! what hast thou done?<br/> + The tale has robb'd thee of thy son.<br/> + And while thy pious tears deplore,<br/> + The loss of him who lives no more,<br/> + Ambition wakes her restless fire,<br/> + The boy will emulate his sire, + </p> + <hr style="width: 35%" /> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h3><a name="RULE4_31"><!-- RULE4 31 --></a> + <i>Written April the 18th, 1796</i> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p> + The beauteous queen of social love,<br/> + Descending from the realms above,<br/> + Through the wide space of ether flew,<br/> + With care this little world to view,<br/> + Till, tir'd with wandering, at the last,<br/> + Through every different climate past,<br/> + She sought not out a splendid dome,<br/> + But made this humble cot her home. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + The sweetest lyre would strive in vain,<br/> + To sing the pleasures of her reign,<br/> + Whose powerful influence does impart,<br/> + New softness to the feeling heart,<br/> + Bids it each narrow thought resign,<br/> + And fills it with a warmth benign. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + From morning till the close of day,<br/> + Here all a grateful homage pay,<br/> + For here she plays her harmless wiles,<br/> + And scatters her endearing smiles;<br/> + Here no proud rivals intervene,<br/> + And all, though glowing, is serene.<br/> + Here, since she first her visit paid,<br/> + Still has the sweet enchantress staid,<br/> + And never met a single slight,<br/> + Or spread her snowy plumes for flight. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Contented 'neath the humble roof;<br/> + No timid heart is kept aloof;<br/> + A kind and condescending guest,<br/> + She lightens each despairing breast;<br/> + Where pain her poignant venom spreads,<br/> + The balm of tenderness she sheds,<br/> + Which breathes a calm repose around,<br/> + And heals at last the burning wound. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + When the heart throbs with bitter woe,<br/> + Her winning mien disarms the foe,<br/> + And the kind glances of her eye,<br/> + Force the desponding power to fly.<br/> + She gives a zest to every joy,<br/> + Forbids tranquillity to cloy,<br/> + Softens misfortune, chases fear,<br/> + And balm distills in every tear.<br/> + 'Tis she alone can make us know,<br/> + A truly blissful hour below,<br/> + Can smooth the furrow'd brow of life,<br/> + And hush the thundering voice of strife. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + O, may she still exert her power,<br/> + Still lead us to the rural bower,<br/> + Which vaunting Pride does ne'er disgrace,<br/> + Or critic Envy's spiteful face.<br/> + Here Raymond ever shall delight,<br/> + To sit and watch the closing night;<br/> + And open-hearted Gertrude here,<br/> + With her sweet infant shall appear.<br/> + Here oft her brother shall prepare,<br/> + A wreath for Mary's curling hair;<br/> + While soft-voic'd Anna, fond of play,<br/> + And all the train, alert and gay,<br/> + In healthful games shall frolic round,<br/> + And revel on the mossy ground. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Here Edmund shall forget his care,<br/> + And often fill an elbow chair;<br/> + While Sophia, friendly and sincere,<br/> + Shall ever find a welcome here. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + Yet would my hovering fancy trace,<br/> + The features of each happy face;<br/> + And sympathy informs my mind,<br/> + That they the same emotions find;<br/> + That in each scene of harmless glee,<br/> + Memory recalls the absent three:<br/> + And all, though distance strives to part,<br/> + Will hold communion in the heart. + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <hr style="width: 25%" /> + <p class="center"> + FINIS. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELEGIES AND OTHER SMALL POEMS ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + + </body> +</html> |