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diff --git a/old/68824-0.txt b/old/68824-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9045454..0000000 --- a/old/68824-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3948 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lewesdon Hill: with other poems, by -William Crowe - -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 -www.gutenberg.org. 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. - -Title: Lewesdon Hill: with other poems - -Author: William Crowe - -Release Date: August 23, 2022 [eBook #68824] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive/American - Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEWESDON HILL: WITH OTHER -POEMS *** - - - - - - -LEWESDON HILL. - - - - - LEWESDON HILL, - WITH - OTHER POEMS. - - BY - THE REV. WILLIAM CROWE, - PUBLIC ORATOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. - - Χαιρ’ ω πεδον αγχιαλον, - Και μ’ ευπλοιᾳ πεμψον αμεμπτως - Ενθ’ ἡ μεγαλη μοιρα κομιζει, - ——χῳ πανδαματωρ - Δαιμων, ος ταυτ’ επεκρανεν. - - SOPH. - - Farewell thy printless sands and pebbly shore! - I hear the white surge beat thy coast no more, - Pure, gentle source of the high, rapturous mood!— - —Where’er, like the great Flood, by thy dread force - Propell’d—shape Thou my calm, my blameless course, - Heaven, Earth, and Ocean’s Lord!—and Father of the Good! - - *** - - A CORRECTED AND MUCH ENLARGED EDITION, WITH NOTES. - - LONDON: - JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET. - 1827. - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. - - - - -ADVERTISEMENT. - - -The Hill which gives title to the following Poem is situated in the -western part of Dorsetshire. This choice of a subject, to which the -Author was led by his residence near the spot, may seem perhaps to -confine him to topics of mere rural and local description. But he begs -leave here to inform the Reader that he has advanced beyond those narrow -limits to something more general and important. On the other hand he -trusts, that in his farthest excursions the connexion between him and -his subject will easily be traced. The few notes which are subjoined he -thought necessary to elucidate the passages to which they refer. He will -only add in this place, from Hutchins’s History of Dorsetshire, (vol. -i. p. 366), what is there said of Lewesdon (or, as it is now corruptly -called, Lewson): “This and Pillesdon Hill surmount all the hills, though -very high, between them and the sea. Mariners call them the _Cow and -Calf_, in which forms they are fancied to appear, being eminent sea-marks -to those who sail upon the coast.” - -To the top of this Hill the Author describes himself as walking on a May -morning. - - - - - TO THE - - RIGHT REV. FATHER IN GOD JONATHAN, - - LORD BISHOP OF ST. ASAPH, - WHO, IN A LEARNED, FREE, AND LIBERAL AGE, - IS HIMSELF MOST HIGHLY DISTINGUISHED - BY EXTENSIVE, USEFUL, AND ELEGANT LEARNING, - BY A DISINTERESTED SUPPORT OF FREEDOM, - AND BY A TRULY CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY OF MIND, - - THIS POEM, - - WITH ALL RESPECT, IS DEDICATED - BY HIS LORDSHIP’S MOST OBLIGED - AND MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT, - - THE AUTHOR. - -_Jan. 1788._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - Page - - LEWESDON HILL 1 - - Notes 41 - - Inscribed beneath the picture of an ass 61 - - Ode to the Lyric Muse. Spoken in the Theatre at the installation - of Lord North, chancellor of the university of Oxford 64 - - Verses intended to have been spoken in the Theatre to the Duke - of Portland, at his installation as chancellor of the - university of Oxford, in the year 1793 70 - - On the Death of Captain Cook 75 - - Elegy to the memory of Dr. W. Hayes, professor of music in the - university of Oxford 80 - - The World. Intended as an apology for not writing. By a Lady 82 - - The British Theatre. Written in 1775 84 - - On two Publications, entitled Editions of two of our Poets 89 - - The Spleen 92 - - Lines written with a pencil in a lady’s almanac 98 - - To a young gentlewoman, with Thomson’s Seasons, doubled down at - the story of Palemon and Lavinia 101 - - Sonnet 103 - - Sonnet to Petrarch 105 - - To a lady, who desired some specimens of the author’s poetry 107 - - Epitaph on a child who died of a scarlet fever in the fifteenth - month of his age, 1802 108 - - Epitaph on Sir Charles Turner, bart. in the family mausoleum at - Kirk Leatham, Yorkshire 109 - - Lines written at the tomb of William of Wykeham, in Winchester - cathedral 111 - - Translation of a Greek inscription upon a fountain 112 - - From Lucretius - - sæpius olim - Religio peperit scelerosa.—Lib. I. v. 83. 114 - - From Lucretius - - Suave, mari magno turbantibus.—Lib. II. v. 1. 117 - - From Lucretius - - Avia Pieridum peragro loca.—Lib. IV. v. 1. 119 - - Psalm LXXII. abridged, and adapted to a particular tune 120 - - Midnight Devotion. Written in the great storm, 1822 123 - - Silbury Hill 125 - - To the Daisy 127 - - Fragment 129 - - From Purchase’s Pilgrimage, versified and designed as a motto - to “Voyages for the Discovery of a N. W. Passage” 131 - - Fragment 133 - - The rape of Proserpine 135 - - Sonnet 137 - - Song 139 - - Song 141 - - Song 142 - - To a lady going to her family in Ireland 143 - - To the Sun 144 - - Song 146 - - To a lady, fortune-telling with cards 148 - - Epigram 150 - - On two English poets, who flourished in the former half of the - last century, and published complimentary verses on each other 152 - - Verses to the honour of the London Pastrycook, who marked “No - popery” on his pies, &c. 154 - - On the funeral of ⸺, in a hearse and six, followed by a mourning - coach and four 157 - - Parody on Dryden’s “Three poets,” &c. 160 - - Epigram 161 - - An expostulatory supplication to Death, after the decease of - Dr. Burney 162 - - On the decease of Horne Tooke 163 - - Inscription for the granite sarcophagus brought from Alexandria - to the British Museum 164 - - Inscription for a statue of field-marshal Suworow 166 - - On field-marshal Suworow. A dialogue 169 - - On F. W. the king of Prussia’s ineffectual attempt on Warsaw 171 - - Political advice to the members of the French Convention. - A dialogue 176 - - Written when Buonaparte was altering the governments of Germany 178 - - Suggested by reading Dryden’s Britannia Rediviva, a poem on the - prince born on the 10th of June, 1688 179 - - Succession 183 - - Epigram 186 - - On the increase of human life 188 - - Ode to the king of France. 1823 189 - - Verses spoken in the Theatre, Oxford, at the installation of the - chancellor, Lord Grenville, July 10, 1810, by Henry Crowe, a - commoner of Wadham College 193 - - Ad Musas 198 - - Ηως - Εργων ἡγητειρα, βιου προπολε θνητοισιν—Or. Hym. 199 - - Jepthæ Votum 202 - - Palmyra 204 - - Ad Hyacinthum. 1791 206 - - Romulus. Scriptus 1803 208 - - Helena Insula 215 - - On Captain Sir M. Murray, wounded at the Westminster election 221 - - Amnestia Infida 222 - - Psalm CXIV. 223 - - Psalm CXXXIII. 225 - - Psalm CXXXVII. 226 - - In obitum senis academici, Thomæ Pryor, Armigeri 228 - - In obitum J. N. Oxoniensis, 1783 229 - - Bene est cui Deus dederit - Parca quod satis est manu.—Hor. Lib. 3. Od. 16. 230 - - ΕΙΣ ΚΟΣΣΥΦΟΝ 232 - - Inscriptio in Horto auctoris apud Alton in com. Wilt. 234 - - Epicedium 237 - - De Seipso, mandatum auctoris 239 - - - - -LEWESDON HILL. - - - Up to thy Summit, LEWESDON, to the brow - Of yon proud rising, where the lonely thorn - Bends from the rude South-east with top cut sheer - By his keen breath, along the narrow track, - By which the scanty-pastured sheep ascend - Up to thy furze-clad summit, let me climb,— - My morning exercise,—and thence look round - Upon the variegated scene, of hills - And woods and fruitful vales, and villages - Half hid in tufted orchards, and the sea - Boundless, and studded thick with many a sail. - - Ye dew-fed vapours, nightly balm, exhaled - From earth, young herbs and flowers, that in the morn - Ascend as incense to the Lord of day, - I come to breathe your odours; while they float - Yet near this surface, let me walk embathed - In your invisible perfumes, to health - So friendly, nor less grateful to the mind, - Administering sweet peace and cheerfulness. - - How changed is thy appearance, beauteous hill! - Thou hast put off thy wintry garb, brown heath - And russet fern, thy seemly-colour’d cloak - To bide the hoary frosts and dripping rains - Of chill December, and art gaily robed - In livery of the spring: upon thy brow - A cap of flowery hawthorn, and thy neck - Mantled with new-sprung furze and spangles thick - Of golden bloom: nor lack thee tufted woods - Adown thy sides: tall oaks of lusty green, - The darker fir, light ash, and the nesh tops - Of the young hazel join, to form thy skirts - In many a wavy fold of verdant wreath:— - So gorgeously hath Nature drest thee up - Against the birth of May: and, vested so, - Thou dost appear more gracefully array’d - Than Fashion’s worshippers, whose gaudy shows, - Fantastical as are a sick man’s dreams, - From vanity to costly vanity - Change ofter than the moon. Thy comely dress, - From sad to gay returning with the year, - Shall grace thee still till Nature’s self shall change. - - These are the beauties of thy woodland scene - At each return of spring: yet some[1] delight - Rather to view the change; and fondly gaze - On fading colours, and the thousand tints - Which Autumn lays upon the varying leaf: - I like them not, for all their boasted hues - Are kin to Sickliness; mortal Decay - Is drinking up their vital juice; that gone, - They turn to sear and yellow. Should I praise - Such false complexions, and for beauty take - A look consumption-bred? As soon, if gray - Were mixt in young Louisa’s tresses brown, - I’d call it beautiful variety, - And therefore dote on her. Yet I can spy - A beauty in that fruitful change, when comes - The yellow Autumn and the hopes o’ the year - Brings on to golden ripeness; nor dispraise - The pure and spotless form of that sharp time, - When January spreads a pall of snow - O’er the dead face of th’ undistinguish’d earth. - Then stand I in the hollow comb beneath, - And bless this friendly mount, that weather-fends - My reed-roof’d cottage, while the wintry blast - From the thick north comes howling: till the Spring - Return, who leads my devious steps abroad, - To climb, as now, to LEWESDON’S airy top. - - Above the noise and stir of yonder fields - Uplifted, on this height I feel the mind - Expand itself in wider liberty. - The distant sounds break gently on my sense, - Soothing to meditation: so methinks, - Even so, sequester’d from the noisy world, - Could I wear out this transitory being - In peaceful contemplation and calm ease. - But Conscience, which still censures on our acts, - That awful voice within us, and the sense - Of an Hereafter, wake and rouse us up - From such unshaped retirement; which were else - A blest condition on this earthly stage. - For who would make his life a life of toil - For wealth, o’erbalanced with a thousand cares; - Or power, which base compliance must uphold; - Or honour, lavish’d most on courtly slaves; - Or fame, vain breath of a misjudging world; - Who for such perishable gaudes would put - A yoke upon his free unbroken spirit, - And gall himself with trammels and the rubs - Of this world’s business; so he might stand clear - Of judgment and the tax of idleness - In that dread audit, when his mortal hours - (Which now with soft and silent stealth pace by) - Must all be counted for? But, for this fear, - And to remove, according to our power, - The wants and evils of our brother’s state, - ’Tis meet we justle with the world; content, - If by our sovereign Master we be found - At last not profitless: for worldly meed, - Given or withheld, I deem of it alike. - - From this proud eminence on all sides round - Th’ unbroken prospect opens to my view, - On all sides large; save only where the head - Of Pillesdon rises, Pillesdon’s lofty Pen: - So call (still rendering to his ancient name - Observance due) that rival Height south-west, - Which like a rampire bounds the vale beneath. - There woods, there blooming orchards, there are seen - Herds ranging, or at rest beneath the shade - Of some wide-branching oak; there goodly fields - Of corn, and verdant pasture, whence the kine - Returning with their milky treasure home - Store the rich dairy: such fair plenty fills - The pleasant vale of Marshwood, pleasant now, - Since that the Spring has deck’d anew the meads - With flowery vesture, and the warmer sun - Their foggy moistness drain’d; in wintry days - Cold, vapourish, miry, wet, and to the flocks - Unfriendly, when autumnal rains begin - To drench the spungy turf: but ere that time - The careful shepherd moves to healthier soil, - Rechasing, lest his tender ewes should coath[2] - In the dank pasturage. Yet not the fields - Of _Evesham_, nor that ample valley named - Of the _White Horse_, its antique monument - Carved in the chalky bourne, for beauty and wealth - Might equal, though surpassing in extent, - This fertile vale, in length from LEWESDON’S base - Extended to the sea, and water’d well - By many a rill; but chief with thy clear stream, - Thou nameless Rivulet, who, from the side - Of LEWESDON softly welling forth, dost trip - Adown the valley, wandering sportively. - Alas, how soon thy little course will end! - How soon thy infant stream shall lose itself - In the salt mass of waters, ere it grow - To name or greatness! Yet it flows along - Untainted with the commerce of the world, - Nor passing by the noisy haunts of men; - But through sequester’d meads, a little space, - Winds secretly, and in its wanton path - May cheer some drooping flower, or minister - Of its cool water to the thirsty lamb: - Then falls into the ravenous sea, as pure - As when it issued from its native hill. - - So to thine early grave didst thou run on, - Spotless Francesca, so, after short course, - Thine innocent and playful infancy - Was swallowed up in death, and thy pure spirit - In that illimitable gulf which bounds - Our mortal continent. But not there lost, - Not there extinguish’d, as some falsely teach, - Who can talk much and learnedly of life, - Who know our frame and fashion, who can tell - The substance and the properties of man, - As they had seen him made,—aye and stood by - Spies on Heaven’s work. They also can discourse - Wisely, to prove that what must be must be, - And show how thoughts are jogg’d out of the brain - By a mechanical impulse; pushing on - The minds of us, poor unaccountables, - To fatal resolution. Know they not, - That in this mortal life, whate’er it be, - We take the path that leads to good or evil, - And therein find our bliss or misery? - And this includes all reasonable ends - Of knowledge or of being; farther to go - Is toil unprofitable, and th’ effect - Most perilous wandering. Yet of this be sure, - Where freedom is not, there no virtue is: - If there be none, this world is all a cheat, - And the divine stability of Heaven - (That assured seat for good men after death) - Is but a transient cloud, display’d so fair - To cherish virtuous hope, but at our need - Eludes the sense, and fools our honest faith, - Vanishing in a lie. If this be so, - Were it not better to be born a beast, - Only to feel what is, and thus to ’scape - The aguish fear that shakes the afflicted breast - With sore anxiety of what shall be— - And all for nought? Since our most wicked act - Is not our sin, and our religious awe - Delusion, if that strong Necessity - Chains up our will. But that the mind is free, - The Mind herself, best judge of her own state, - Is feelingly convinced; nor to be moved - By subtle words, that may perplex the head, - But ne’er persuade the heart. Vain argument, - That with false weapons of Philosophy - Fights against Hope, and Sense, and Nature’s strength! - - See how the Sun, here clouded, afar off - Pours down the golden radiance of his light - Upon the enridged sea; where the black ship - Sails on the phosphor-seeming waves. So fair, - But falsely-flattering, was yon surface calm, - When forth for India sail’d, in evil time, - That Vessel, whose disastrous fate, when told, - Fill’d every breast with horror, and each eye - With piteous tears, so cruel was the loss[3]. - Methinks I see her, as, by the wintry storm - Shatter’d and driven along past yonder Isle, - She strove, her latest hope, by strength or art, - To gain the port within it, or at worst - To shun that harbourless and hollow coast - From Portland eastward to the Promontory[4], - Where still St. Alban’s high built chapel stands. - But art nor strength avail her—on she drives, - In storm and darkness to the fatal coast: - And there ’mong rocks and high-o’erhanging cliffs - Dash’d piteously, with all her precious freight - Was lost, by Neptune’s wild and foamy jaws - Swallow’d up quick! The richliest-laden ship - Of spicy Ternate, or that Annual, sent - To the Philippines o’er the Southern main - From Acapulco, carrying massy gold, - Were poor to this;—freighted with hopeful Youth, - And Beauty, and high Courage undismayed - By mortal terrors, and paternal Love - Strong, and unconquerable even in death— - Alas, they perish’d all, all in one hour! - - Now yonder high way view, wide-beaten, bare - With ceaseless tread of men and beasts, and track - Of many indenting wheels, heavy and light, - That in their different courses as they pass, - Rush violently down precipitate, - Or slowly turn, oft resting, up the steep. - Mark how that road, with mazes serpentine, - From Shipton’s[5] bottom to the lofty down - Winds like a path of pleasure, drawn by art - Through park or flowery garden for delight. - Nor less delightful this—if, while he mounts - Not wearied, the free Journeyer will pause - To view the prospect oft, as oft to see - Beauty still changing: yet not so contrived - By fancy, or choice, but of necessity, - By soft gradations of ascent to lead - The labouring and way-worn feet along, - And make their toil less toilsome. Half way up, - Or nearer to the top, behold a cot, - O’er which the branchy trees, those sycamores, - Wave gently: at their roots a rustic bench - Invites to short refreshment, and to taste - What grateful beverage the house may yield - After fatigue, or dusty heat; thence call’d - The TRAVELLER’S REST. Welcome, embower’d seat, - Friendly repose to the slow passenger - Ascending, ere he takes his sultry way - Along th’ interminable road, stretch’d out - Over th’ unshelter’d down; or when at last - He has that hard and solitary path - Measured by painful steps. And blest are they, - Who in life’s toilsome journey may make pause - After a march of glory: yet not such - As rise in causeless war, troubling the world - By their mad quarrel, and in fields of blood - Hail’d victors, thence renown’d, and call’d on earth - Kings, heroes, demi-gods, but in high Heaven - Thieves, ruffians, murderers; these find no repose: - Thee rather, patriot Conqueror, to thee - Belongs such rest; who in the western world, - Thine own deliver’d country, for thyself - Hast planted an immortal grove, and there, - Upon the glorious mount of Liberty - Reposing, sit’st beneath the palmy shade. - - And Thou, not less renown’d in like attempt - Of high achievement, though thy virtue fail’d - To save thy little country, Patriot Prince, - Hero, Philosopher—what more could they - Who wisely chose thee, PAOLI, to bless - Thy native Isle, long struggling to be free? - But Heaven allow’d not—yet may’st thou repose - After thy glorious toil, secure of fame - Well-earn’d by virtue: while ambitious France, - Who stretch’d her lawless hand to seize thine isle, - Enjoys not rest or glory; with her prey - Gorged but not satisfied, and craving still - Against th’ intent of Nature. See Her now - Upon the adverse shore, her Norman coast, - Plying[6] her monstrous labour unrestrained! - A rank of castles in the rough sea sunk, - With towery shape and height, and armed heads - Uprising o’er the surge; and these between, - Unmeasurable mass of ponderous rock - Projected many a mile to rear her wall - Midst the deep waters. She, the mighty work - Still urging, in her arrogant attempt, - As with a lordly voice to the Ocean cries, - ‘Hitherto come, no farther; here be staid - ‘The raging of thy waves; within this bound - ‘Be all my haven’—and therewith takes in - A space of amplest circuit, wide and deep, - Won from the straiten’d main: nor less in strength - Than in dimensions, giant-like in both,— - On each side flank’d with citadels and towers - And rocky walls, and arches massy proof - Against the storm of war. Compared with this - Less[7] and less hazardous emprize achieved - Resistless Alexander, when he cast - The strong foundations of that high-raised mound - Deep in the hostile waves, his martial way, - Built on before him up to sea-girt Tyre. - Nor[8] aught so bold, so vast, so wonderful, - At Athos or the fetter’d Hellespont, - Imagined in his pride that Asian vain, - Xerxes,—but ere he turn’d from Salamis - Flying through the blood-red waves in one poor bark, - Retarded by thick-weltering carcasses. - Nor[9] yet that elder work (if work it were, - Not fable) raised upon the Phrygian shore, - (Where lay the fleet confederate against Troy, - A thousand ships behind the vasty mole - All shelter’d) could with this compare, though built - It seem’d, of greatness worthy to create - Envy in the immortals; and at last - Not overthrown without th’ embattled aid - Of angry Neptune. So may He once more - Rise from his troubled bed, and send his waves, - Urged on to fury by contending winds, - With horned violence to push and whelm - This pile, usurping on his watry reign! - - From hostile shores returning, glad I look - On native scenes again; and first salute - Thee, Burton[10], and thy lofty cliff, where oft - The nightly blaze is kindled; further seen - Than erst was that love-tended cresset, hung - Beside the Hellespont: yet not like that - Inviting to the hospitable arms - Of Beauty and Youth, but lighted up, the sign - Of danger, and of ambush’d foes to warn - The stealth-approaching Vessel, homeward bound - From Havre or the Norman isles, with freight - Of wines and hotter drinks, the trash of France, - Forbidden merchandize. Such fraud to quell - Many a light skiff and well-appointed sloop - Lies hovering near the coast, or hid behind - Some curved promontory, in hope to seize - These contraband: vain hope! on that high shore - Station’d, th’ associates of their lawless trade - Keep watch, and to their fellows off at sea - Give the known signal; they with fearful haste - Observant, put about the ship, and plunge - Into concealing darkness. As a fox, - That from the cry of hounds and hunters’ din - Runs crafty down the wind, and steals away - Forth from his cover, hopeful so t’ elude - The not yet following pack,—if chance the shout - Of eager or unpractised boy betray - His meditated flight, back he retires - To shelter him in the thick wood: so these - Retiring, ply to south, and shun the land - Too perilous to approach: and oft at sea - Secure (or ever nigh the guarded coast - They venture) to the trackless deep they trust - Their forfeitable cargo, rundlets small, - Together link’d upon their cable’s length, - And to the shelving bottom sunk and fixt - By stony weights; till happier hour arrive - To land it on the vacant beach unrisk’d. - - But what is yonder Hill[11], whose dusky brow - Wears, like a regal diadem, the round - Of ancient battlements and ramparts high, - And frowns upon the vales? I know thee not— - Thou hast no name, no honourable note, - No chronicle of all thy warlike pride, - To testify what once thou wert, how great, - How glorious, and how fear’d. So perish all, - Who seek their greatness in dominion held - Over their fellows, or the pomp of war, - And be as thou forgotten, and their fame - Cancell’d like thine! But thee in after times - Reclaim’d to culture, Shepherds visited, - And call’d thee Orgarston; so thee they call’d - Of Orgar, Saxon Earl, the wealthy sire - Of fair Elfrida; She, whose happy Bard - Has with his gentle witchery so wrought - Upon our sense, that we can see no more - Her mad ambition, treacherous cruelty, - And purple robes of state with royal blood - Inhospitably stain’d; but in their place - Pure faith, soft manners, filial duty meek, - Connubial love, and stoles of saintly white. - - Sure ’tis all false what poets fondly tell - Of rural innocence and village love; - Else had thy simple annals, Nethercombe, - Who bosom’d in the vale below dost look - This morn so cheerful, been unstain’d with crimes, - Which the pale rustic shudders to relate. - There lived, the blessing of her father’s age,— - I fable not, nor will with fabled names - Varnish a melancholy tale all true,— - A lowly maid; lowly, but like that flower, - Which grows in lowly place, and thence has name, - Lily o’ the vale, within her parent leaves - As in retreat she lives; yet fair and sweet - Above the gaudiest Blooms, that flaunt abroad, - And play with every wanton breath of Heaven. - Thus innocent, her beauties caught the eye - Of a young villager, whose vows of love - Soon won her easy faith: her sire meantime, - Alas! nor knowing nor suspecting ought, - Till that her shape, erewhile so graceful seen, - (Dian first rising after change was not - More delicate) betray’d her secret act, - And grew to guilty fulness: then farewell - Her maiden dignity, and comely pride, - And virtuous reputation. But this loss - Worse follow’d, loss of shame, and wilful wreck - Of what was left her yet of good, or fair, - Or decent: now her meek and gentle voice - To petulant turn’d; her simply-neat attire - To sluttish tawdry: her once timid eye - Grew fix’d, and parley’d wantonly with those - It look’d on. Change detestable! For she, - Erewhile the light of her fond father’s house, - Became a grievous darkness: but his heart - Endured not long; all in despair he went - Into the chambers of the grave, to seek - A comfortless repose from sorrow and shame. - What then befell this daughter desolate? - For He, the partner of her earliest fault, - Had left her, false perhaps, or in dislike - Of her light carriage. What could then befall, - What else, but of her self-injurious life - The too sad penance—hopeless penury, - Loathsome disease unpitied, and thereto - The brand of all-avoided infamy - Set on her, like the fearful token o’er - A plague-infested house:—at length to death - Impatient and distract she made bold way. - - Fain would I view thee, Corscombe, fain would hail - The ground where Hollis[12] lies; his choice retreat, - Where, from the busy world withdrawn, he lived - To generous Virtue, and the holy love - Of Liberty, a dedicated spirit; - And left his ashes there; still honouring - Thy fields, with title given of patriot names, - But more with his untitled sepulchre. - That envious ridge conceals thee from my sight, - Which, passing o’er thy place north-east, looks on - To Sherburne’s ancient towers and rich domains, - The noble Digby’s mansion; where he dwells - Inviolate, and fearless of thy curse, - War-glutted Osmund,[13] superstitious Lord! - Who with Heaven’s justice for a bloody life - Madest thy presumptuous bargain; giving more - Than thy just having to redeem thy guilt, - And darest bid th’ Almighty to become - The minister of thy curse. But sure it fell, - So bigots fondly judged, full sure it fell - With sacred vengeance pointed on the head - Of many a bold usurper: chief on thine - (Favourite of Fortune once, but last her thrall), - Accomplish’d[14] Raleigh! in that lawless day - When, like a goodly hart, thou wert beset - With crafty blood-hounds, lurching for thy life, - While as they feign’d to chase thee fairly down; - And that foul Scot, the minion-kissing King, - Pursued with havoc in the tyrannous hunt. - - How is it vanish’d in a hasty spleen, - The Tor of Glastonbury! Even but now - I saw the hoary pile cresting the top - Of that north-western hill; and in this Now - A cloud hath pass’d on it, and its dim bulk - Becomes annihilate, or if not, a spot - Which the strain’d vision tires itself to find. - - And even so fares it with the things of earth - Which seem most constant: there will come the cloud - That shall infold them up, and leave their place - A seat for Emptiness. Our narrow ken - Reaches too far, when all that we behold - Is but the havoc of wide-wasting Time, - Or what he soon shall spoil. His outspread wings - (Which bear him like an eagle o’er the earth) - Are plumed in front so downy soft, they seem - To foster what they touch, and mortal fools - Rejoice beneath their hovering: woe the while! - For in that indefatigable flight - The multitudinous strokes incessantly - Bruise all beneath their cope, and mark on all - His secret injury; on the front of man - Gray hairs and wrinkles; still as Time speeds on - Hard and more hard his iron pennons beat - With ceaseless violence; nor overpass, - Till all the creatures of this nether world - Are one wide quarry: following dark behind, - The cormorant Oblivion swallows up - The carcasses that Time has made his prey. - - But, hark! the village clock strikes nine—the chimes - Merrily follow, tuneful to the sense - Of the pleased clown attentive, while they make - False-measured melody on crazy bells. - O wond’rous Power of modulated sound! - Which, like the air (whose all-obedient shape - Thou makest thy slave), canst subtilly pervade - The yielded avenues of sense, unlock - The close affections, by some fairy path - Winning an easy way through every ear, - And with thine unsubstantial quality - Holding in mighty chains the hearts of all; - All, but some cold and sullen-temper’d spirits, - Who feel no touch of sympathy or love. - - Yet what is music, and the blended power - Of voice with instruments of wind and string? - What but an empty pageant of sweet noise? - ’Tis past: and all that it has left behind - Is but an echo dwelling in the ear - Of the toy-taken fancy, and beside, - A void and countless hour in life’s brief day. - - But ill accords my verse with the delights - Of this gay month:—and see the Villagers - Assembling jocund in their best attire - To grace this genial morn. Now I descend - To join the worldly crowd; perchance to talk, - To think, to act as they: then all these thoughts, - That lift th’ expanded heart above this spot - To heavenly musing, these shall pass away - (Even as this goodly prospect from my view) - Hidden by near and earthy-rooted cares. - So passeth human life—our better mind - Is as a Sunday’s garment, then put on - When we have nought to do; but at our work - We wear a worse for thrift. Of this enough: - To-morrow for severer thought; but now - To breakfast, and keep festival to-day. - - -NOTES. - - -Note 1, page 4, line 10. - - _At each return of spring: yet some delight, &c._ - -An adventitious beauty, arising from that gradual decay, which loosens -the withering leaf, gilds the autumnal landscape with a temporary -splendor superior to the verdure of spring, or the luxuriance of summer. -The infinitely various and ever-changing hues of the leaves at this -season, melting into every soft gradation of tint and shade, have long -engaged the imitation of the painter, and are equally happy ornaments in -the description of the poet.—Aikin’s Essay on the Character of Thompson’s -Seasons, prefixed to his edition of them, 1791. - - -Note 2, p. 10, line 7. - - _Rechasing, lest his tender ewes should coath._ - -To _coath_, Skinner says, is a word common in Lincolnshire, and -signifies, to _faint_. He derives it from the Anglo-Saxon coðe, a -_disease_. In Dorsetshire it is in common use, but it is used of sheep -only: a _coathed_ sheep is a _rotten_ sheep; to _coath_ is to _take the -rot. Rechasing_ is also a term in that county appropriated to flocks: -_to chase and rechase_ is to drive sheep at certain times from one sort -of ground to another, or from one parish to another. - -The author having ventured to introduce some provincial and other terms, -takes this occasion to say, that it is a liberty in which he has not -indulged himself, but when he conceived them to be allowable for the sake -of ornament or expression. - - -Note 3, page 16, line 4. - - _With piteous tears, so cruel was the loss._ - -The distressful condition of the Halswell here alluded to is thus -circumstantially described in the narrative of her loss, p. 13. - -“Thursday the 5th, at two in the morning, the wind came to the southward, -blew fresh, and the weather was very thick; at noon Portland was seen, -bearing N. by E. distance two or three leagues; at eight at night it -blew a strong gale at S. and at this time the Portland lights were seen -bearing N. W. distance four or five leagues, when they wore ship, and -got her head to the westward; but finding they lost ground upon that -tack, they wore again, and kept stretching on eastward, in hopes to have -weathered Peverel-point, in which case they intended to have anchored in -Studland Bay: at 11 at night it cleared, and they saw St. Alban’s-head -a mile and a half to the leeward of them; upon which they took in sail -immediately, and let go the small bower anchor, which brought up the -ship at a whole cable, and she rode for about an hour, but then drove; -they now let go the sheet anchor, and wore away a whole cable, and the -ship rode for about two hours longer, when she drove again. They were -then driving very fast on shore, and might expect every moment to strike!” - - -Note 4, page 16, line 10. - - _From Portland eastward to the Promontory._ - -“Not far from this (Encombe) stands _St. Aldene_’s Chapel; which took -name from the dedication to St. Adeline, the first bishop of Sherbourne -in this shire: but now it serves for a sea-mark.”—Coker’s Survey of -Dorsetshire, p. 47. - -“Near the sea is the high land of _St. Aldhelm_’s, commonly called _St. -Alban_’s, a noted sea-mark. The cliff here is 147 yards perpendicular. On -this promontory, about a mile south of _Worth_, stands a chapel of the -same name.” Hutchins’s Dorsetsh. vol. i. p. 228. But this headland is not -marked by name in Hutchins’s map. “The very utter part of _St. Aldhelm_’s -point is five miles from _Sandwich_ (_Swanwich_).”—Lel. Itin. vol. iii. -p. 53. - - -Note 5, page 18, line 6. - - _From Shipton’s bottom to the lofty down._ - -Shipton is a hill, which, according to common report, is so called from -its shape; the top of it being formed like a ship with the keel upwards. -It stands three miles from Bridport on the road towards London; which -road passes by the foot of it to the North. - - -Note 6, page 22, line 1. - - _Plying her monstrous labour unrestrained._ - -The works now carrying on at Cherburgh, (A. D. 1787) to make a haven -for ships of war, are principally the following. Of these however it -is not intended to give a full description; but only to mention some -particulars, from which an idea may be formed of the greatness of the -scheme. - -In the open sea, above a league from the town, and within half a mile -west of a rock called _L’isle Pelée_, a pier is begun, with design of -conducting it on to the shore somewhat beyond _Point Hommet_, about -two miles westward of Cherburgh. In order to this, a strong frame of -timber-work, of the shape of a truncated cone, having been constructed on -the beach, was buoyed out, and sunk in a depth of water; which at lowest -ebb is 35 feet, and where the tide rises near 20 feet. The diameter of -this cone at bottom is about 60 yards, its height 70 feet; and the area -on its top large enough to receive a battery of cannon, with which it is -hereafter to be fortified. Its solid contents are 2500 French toises; -which, in our measure (allowing the French foot to be to the English as -144 to 135), will amount to 24,250 cubic yards nearly. Several other -cones, of equal dimensions, are sunk at convenient distances from each -other, forming the line of the pier: their number, when complete, it -is said, will be forty. As soon as any one of these is carried to its -place, it is filled with stones, which are dug from mount _Rouille_ and -other rocks near the coast, and brought on horses to the shore: whence -they are conveyed to the cones in vessels of forty, sixty, or eighty -tons burden. In like manner, but with much greater labour and expense, -the spaces between the cones are filled up with stones thrown loosely -into the sea, till the heap is raised above the water. On this mass, as -on a foundation, a wall of masonry-work is to be erected. The length -of the whole is near five miles. On _L’isle Pelée_ and _Point Hommet_ -before-mentioned large fortifications are constructed bomb-proof, to -defend the haven and pier. It is the opinion of some persons that -this stupendous mole may be injured or destroyed by what is called a -ground-sea, _i. e._ a sea when the waters are agitated to the bottom: and -this happens when a strong wind, after having put the waves in motion, -suddenly shifts to the opposite quarter. The description given in the -Poem of this vast undertaking closes with an allusion to this opinion. - - -Note 7, page 23, lines 5 and 6. - - _Less and less hazardous emprize achieved_ - _Resistless Alexander._ - Quint. Curt. lib. 4, cap. 2, 3. - - -Note 8, page 23, line 10. - - _Nor aught so bold, so vast, so wonderful._ - - ——creditur olim - Velificatus Athos— - Densa cadavera prora. - JUV. Sat. x. v. 173. 186. - - -Note 9, page 24, line 2. - - _Nor yet that elder work._ - - ——τειχος εδειμαν,—— - ——αμαλδυνηται Αχαιων. - HOM. IL. vii. v. 436. 463. - - Ὡσ ὁ μεν εν κλισιησι,— - ——καλλιροον ὑδωρ. - IL. xii. v. 1, 33. - - -Note 10, page 25, line 3. - - _Thee, Burton, and thy lofty cliff._ - -Burton is a village near the sea, lying S. E. from Lewesdon, and about -two miles S. of Shipton hill before mentioned. The cliff is among the -loftiest of all upon that coast; and smugglers often take advantage of -its height for the purpose related in the poem. - - -Note 11, page 27, line 11. - - _But what is yonder Hill, whose dusky brow._ - -“Eggardon Hill is a very high hill, and gives name to the hundred. Mr. -Coker says it is uncertain whether it takes its name from Edgar, king of -the West Saxons, or from Orgarus, earl of Cornwall: and indeed this last -derivation is the truest; there being little reason to doubt that it is -the old _Orgarestone_. The camp on the brow of this hill is a large and -strong fortification, and seems to be Roman.”—Hutchins’s Dorset, vol. -i. p. 289; where there is an engraving of this camp. But Hutchins has -misrepresented Mr. Coker, who indeed prefers the derivation from Orgar. -His words are these: “That it takes name from Edgar, the West Saxon king, -I dare not affirm, having nothing to prove it but the nearnesse of the -name. It better likes me to think this the place which in Doomsday-book -is called Orgareston; but whether it take name from Orgareus, earl of -Cornwall, I know not; though I think I should run into no great error to -believe it.”—Coker’s Survey of Dorsetshire, p. 26. - - -Note 12, page 33, line 2. - - _The ground where Hollis lies; his choice retreat._ - -“Mr. Hollis, in order to preserve the memory of those heroes and patriots -for whom he had a veneration, as the assertors and defenders of his -country, called many of the farms and fields in his estate at Corscombe -by their names; and by these names they are still distinguished. In the -middle of one of those fields, not far from his house, he ordered his -corpse to be deposited in a grave ten feet deep; and that the field -should be immediately ploughed over, that no trace of his burial-place -might remain.”—Memoirs of Thomas Hollis, Esq. vol. i. p. 481. - - -Note 13, page 34, line 1. - - _War-glutted Osmund, superstitious lord!_ - -Of the strange curse belonging to Shireburne-Castle. From a MS. of -the late Bishop of Ely (Bishop John More) now in the Royal Library at -Cambridge. - -“Osmund, a Norman knight, who had served _William_ Duke of _Normandy_ -from his youth, in all his wars against the French king, and the duke’s -(_William_’s) subjects, with much valour and discretion, for all his -faithful service (when his master had by conquest obteyned the crown -of England) was rewarded with many great gifts; among the which was -the earldome of _Dorsett_, and the gift of many other possessions, -whereof the castle and baronie of _Sherburne_ were parcell. But Osmund, -in the declyninge of his age, calling to mynde the great effusion of -blood which, from his infancie, he had shedd; he resolved to leave all -worldly delights, and betake himself to a religious life, the better -to contemplate on his former sinnes, and to obteyn pardon for them. -And, with much importunitie, having gotten leave of the kinge (who was -unwilling to want the assistance of so grave and worthy a counsellor) -to resign his temporal honors; and having obteyned the bishoprick of -_Sarum_, he gave _Sherburne_, with other lands, to the bishoprick. To -which gift he annexed this curse:— - -“‘That whosoever should take those lands from the bishoprick, or -diminish them in great or in small, should be accursed, not only in this -world, but also in the world to come; unless in his life-time he made -restitution thereof.’ And so he died bishop of Sarum.” - -Those lands continued in the possession of his successors till the reign -of King Stephen, who took them away: “whereupon (says this account) his -prosperity forsook him.” King Stephen being dead, “these lands came into -the hands of some of the _Montagues_ (after earles of _Sarum_), who -whilest they held the same, underwent many disasters. For one or other -of them fell by misfortune. And finally, all the males of them became -extinct, and the earldome received an end in their name. So ill was their -success.” - -After this the lands were restored to the bishoprick; but were taken away -a second time by the Duke of Somerset, in the reign of Edward VI.; “when -the duke, being hunting in the parke of _Sherburne_, he was sent for -presently unto the kinge (to whome he was protector) and at his coming -up to _London_, was forthwith committed unto the _Tower_, and shortly -after lost his head.” The lands then, in a suit at law, were adjudged to -the Bishop of Sarum; and so remained, “till Sir Walter Raleigh procured -a grant of them; he afterwards unfortunately lost them, and at last his -head also. Upon his attainder they came, by the king’s gift, to Prince -_Henry_; who died not long after the possession thereof. After Prince -_Henry_’s death, the Earle of _Somerset_ (_Carr_) did possesse them. -Finally, he lost them, and many other fortunes.”—Peck’s Desid. Cur. Lib. -14. No. 6. - - -Note 14, page 34, line 11. - - _Accomplish’d Raleigh! in that lawless day._ - -“How Dr. _John Coldwell_, of a physitian, became a bishop, I have heard -by more than a good many; and I will briefly handle it, and as tenderly -as I can; bearing myself equal between the living (Sir _Walter Raleigh_) -and the dead (Bishop _Coldwell_). Yet the manifest judgements of God -on both of them I may not pass over with silence. And to speak first -of the knight, who carried off the _Spolia opima_ of the bishoprick. -He, having gotten _Sherborne_ castle, park, and parsonage, was in those -days in so great favour with the queen, as I may boldly say, that with -less suit than he was fain to make to her, ere he could perfect this -his purchase, and with less money than he bestowed since in _Sherborne_ -(in building, and buying out leases, and in drawing the river through -rocks into his garden), he might, very justly, and without offence of -either church or state, have compassed a much better purchase. Also, as -I have been truly informed, he had a presage before he first attempted -it, which did foreshow it would turn to his ruin, and might have kept -him from meddling with it, _Si mens non læva fuisset_: for, as he was -riding post between _Plymouth_ and the court (as many times he did upon -no small employments), this castle being right in the way, he cast such -an eye upon it as _Ahab_ did upon _Naboth_’s vineyard. And, once above -the rest, being talking of it (of the commodiousness of the place, -of the strength of the seat, and how easily it might be got from the -bishoprick), suddenly over and over came his horse, that his very face -(which was then thought a very good face) plowed up the earth where he -fell. This fall was ominous, I make no question; and himself was apt to -construe it so. But his brother _Adrian_ would needs have him interpret -it as a conqueror, that his fall presaged the quiet possession of it. -And accordingly, for the present, it so fell out. So that with much -labor, cost, envy, and obloquy, he got it _habendum et tenendum_ to him -and his heirs. But see what became of him. In the public joy and jubilee -of the whole realm (when favor, peace, and pardon, were offered even to -offenders), he who in wit, in wealth, in courage, was inferior to few, -fell suddenly (I cannot tell how) into such a downfall of despair, as his -greatest enemy would not have wished him so much harm, as he would have -done himself. Can any man be so willfully blind as not to see, and say, -_Digitus Dei hic est_!”—Harrington’s Brief View, p. 88. - - * * * * * - -To these Notes are added the following, taken from Æschylus, to show the -resemblance between the expressions of that author and certain passages -in this poem. - - ——Let me walk embathed - In your invisible perfumes.—P. 2, v. 16. - - Τις οδμα προσεπτα μ’ αφεγγης; Prom. Vinc. 115. - - ——For worldly meed, - Given or withheld, I deem of it alike.—P. 8, v. 98. - - ου δ’ αινειν ειτε με ψεγειν θελεις, - Ομοιον. Agam. 1412. - - The aguish fear that shakes th’ afflicted breast - With sore anxiety of what shall be— - And all for nought.—P. 14, v. 179. - - ματαιος εκ γυκτων φοβας - Κινει, ταρασσει, και διωκεται πολεως - Χαλχηκλατῳ πλαστιγγι λυμανθεν δεμας. Choeph. 286. - - To shun that harbourless and hollow coast.—P. 16, v. 204. - - μολοντες αλιμενον χθονα - Ες νυκτ’ αποστειχοντος ἡλιου, φιλει - Ωδινα τικτειν νυξ χυβερνητῃ σοφῳ. Supplices, 775. - - ——the promontory - Where still St. Alban’s high-built chapel stands.—P. 16. v. 205. - - Την αιπυνωτον αμφι Δωδωνην, ινα - Μαντεια θωκος τ’ εστι Θεσπρωτου Διος. Prom. Vinct. 829. - - Was lost, by Neptune’s wild and foamy jaws - Swallow’d up quick.—P. 17, v. 211. - - ενθεν εκραγησονταιν ποτε - Ποταμοι πυρος δαπτοντες αγριαις γναθοις. Prom. Vinct. 367. - - Alas! they perish’d all: all in one hour!—P. 17, v. 220. - -In the Persæ the Chorus demand of Xerxes what was become of his friends -the Nobles; he answers, “I left them wrecked on the shores of Salamis:” -they ask farther, “Where is Pharnuchus and Ariomardus? Where is the royal -Sebalces?” &c. Xerxes replies, - - Ιω, ιω, μοι μοι - παντες - Ενι πιτυλῳ, - (Ε, ε, ε,) τλαμονες - Ασπαιρουσι χερσῳ. 978. - - ——flank’d with citadels and towers, - And rocky walls, and arches massy-proof - Against the storm of war.—P. 23, v. 292. - - Συ δ’ ωστε νηος κεδνος διακοστροφος - Φραξαι πολισμα, πριν καταιγισαι πνοας - Αρεος. Sept. cont. Theb. 62. - - With horned violence to push and whelm - This pile.—P. 24, v. 319. - - ἁι δε, κερωτυπουμεναι βιᾳ - Χειμωνοτυφῳ, συν ζαλῃ τ’ ομβροκτυπῳ. Agam. 664. - -Χειμωνοτυφῳ; so I read the passage, instead of Χειμωνι, τυφω, κτλ. - -In the Supplices of this author there is a similar phrase on a similar -subject, - - Πεμψατε ποντονδ’, ενθα δε λαιλαπι - Χειμωνοτυπῳ, βροντη στεροπη - Τ’, ομβροφοροισι τ’ ανεμοις αγριας - Αλος αντησαντες ολοιντο. 34. - -In the Clouds of Aristophanes, A. 1. S. 4, this word occurs, -ἑκατογκεφαλατυφω, and the Scholiast says, in τυφων or τυφως the first -syllable is long. - - To generous Virtue, and the holy love - Of liberty, a dedicated spirit.—P. 33, v. 433. - -In the Eumenides the Fury calls Orestes - - δαιμοναν σκια - Εμοι τραφεις τε και καθιερωμενος. 303. - - So fares it with the things of earth - Which seem most constant: there will come the cloud - That shall enfold them up.—P. 35, v. 466. - - Ιω βροτεια πραγματ’· ευτυχουντα μεν - Σκια τις αντρεψειεν. Agam. 1336. - - The multitudinous strokes incessantly - Bruise all, &c.—P. 36, v. 478. - -There is a singular similarity in the length of the words here, and in -the following passage of the Choephori, where Electra speaks of the -murder of her father; intending, perhaps, to express the multitude of -wounds by the polysyllabic term; - - πολυπλαγκτα δ’ ην ιδειν - Επασσυτεροτριβη τα χερος ορεγματα. 423. - - - - -POEMS. - - - - -INSCRIBED BENEATH THE PICTURE OF AN ASS. - - - Meek animal, whose simple mien - Provokes th’ insulting eye of Spleen - To mock the melancholy trait - Of patience in thy front display’d, - By thy Great Author fitly so pourtray’d, - To character the sorrows of thy fate; - Say, Heir of misery, what to thee - Is life?—A long, long, gloomy stage - Through the sad vale of labour and of pain! - No pleasure hath thine youth, no rest thine age, - Nor in the vasty round of this terrene - Hast thou a friend to set thee free, - Till Death, perhaps too late, - In the dark evening of thy cheerless day, - Shall take thee, fainting on thy way, - From the rude storm of unresisted hate. - - Yet dares the erroneous crowd to mark - With folly thy despised race, - Th’ ungovernable pack, who bark - With impious howlings in Heaven’s awful face, - If e’er on their impatient head - Affliction’s bitter show’r is shed. - - But ’tis the weakness of thy kind - Meekly to bear the inevitable sway; - The wisdom of the human mind - Is to murmur and obey. - - - - -ODE TO THE LYRIC MUSE. - -SPOKEN IN THE THEATRE AT THE INSTALLATION OF LORD NORTH, CHANCELLOR OF -THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. - - - STROPHE I. - - Fair sov’reign of the golden lyre, - Descend, Thalia, from th’ enchanted grove - Of Mona, where thou lov’st to rove, - List’ning the echoes of thy Druid quire; - The ling’ring sounds that yet respire - Waked by the breezes of the Western main; - And bring some high and solemn strain, - Such as was heard that solemn day - When Rome’s dread Eagle stoop’d to prey - On Mona’s free-born sons, while Liberty - Struck on the magic harp her dying song.— - Dealing vengeance on her foes, - The mortal Genius of battle rose, - And call’d Despair and Death to lead her host along. - - STROPHE II. - - O, Muse divine! whene’er thy strain - Devotes the tyrant head to shame, - The Patriot Virtues brighten in thy train; - And Glory hears the loud appeal; - And thou, unconquerable flame, - First-born of ancient Freedom, Public Zeal: - Thou in the dark and dreary hour - When Tyranny her dragon-wing outspread, - And Sloth a sullen influence shed, - And every coward Vice that loves the night - Revell’d on Corsica’s ill-fated shore; - Thou didst one dauntless heart inflame, - Lo, PAOLI, father of his country, came, - And with a giant-voice - Cried, “Liberty!” unto the drowsy race - That slept in Slav’ry’s dull embrace; - Roused at the sound, they hail’d thy glorious choice, - And ev’ry manly breast - Shook off the unnerving load of rest; - And Virtue chasing the foul forms of night, - Rose like a summer sun, and shed a golden light. - - ANTISTROPHE I. - - But, ah! how sunk her veiled head, - Untimely dimm’d by Gaul’s o’ershadowing pow’r— - And shalt thou rise, fair isle, no more? - Thy patriot heroes sleep among the dead: - Thy gallant virtues all are fled; - Save Fortitude, sole refuge from despair. - O Gaul, Oppression’s blood-stain’d heir, - Let me not tell how, taught by thee, - England’s rude sons smote Liberty - On Vincent’s sable rock, her Indian throne:— - Not unavenged; for in her cause the sky - Storms and fiery vapours pour’d, - While Pestilence waved wide his tainted sword - To smite[15]... - - EPODE. - - Then, O Thalia! let thy sacred shell - Wake the lofty sounds that swell - With rapture unreproved the patriot breast! - Robed in her many-colour’d vest - On Isis’ banks shall Science stand, - Waving in her bounteous hand - A wond’rous chaplet; high reward - Of toils, by public virtue dared: - And while to claim the envied meed - Fair Fame her vot’ries leads, thy voice, - O Muse, shall join th’ applauded choice - That fix’d the glorious wreath on FREDERICK’s honour’d head! - -[15] The remainder of this, and the whole of the second antistrophe, were -not repeated in the theatre, having been suppressed by the academical -authorities, on account of their political sentiments, and subsequently -lost. - - - - -VERSES INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN IN THE THEATRE TO THE DUKE OF -PORTLAND, AT HIS INSTALLATION AS CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, -IN THE YEAR 1793. - - - In evil hour, and with unhallow’d voice, - Profaning the pure gift of Poesy, - Did he begin to sing, He, first who sung - Of arms and combats, and the proud array - Of warriors on th’ embattled plain, and raised - Th’ aspiring spirit to hopes of fair renown - By deeds of violence!—For since that time - Th’ imperious victor oft, unsatisfied - With bloody spoil and tyrannous conquest, dares - To challenge fame and honour; and too oft - The poet, bending low, to lawless pow’r - Hath paid unseemly reverence, yea, and brought - Streams clearest of th’ Aonian fount to wash - Blood-stain’d Ambition. If the stroke of war - Fell certain on the guilty head, none else, - If they that make the cause might taste th’ effect, - And drink, themselves, the bitter cup they mix, - Then might the bard (tho’ child of peace) delight - To twine fresh wreaths around the Conqueror’s brow; - Or haply strike his high-toned harp, to swell - The trumpet’s martial sound, and bid them on - Whom Justice arms for vengeance: but, alas! - That undistinguishing and deathful storm - Beats heaviest on th’ exposed innocent, - And they that stir its fury, while it raves, - Stand at safe distance, send their mandate forth - Unto the mortal ministers that wait - To do their bidding.—Ah! who then regards - The widow’s tears, the friendless orphan’s cry, - And Famine, and the ghastly train of woes - That follow at the dogged heels of War? - They, in the pomp and pride of victory - Rejoicing, o’er the desolated earth, - As at an altar wet with human blood, - And flaming with the fire of cities burnt, - Sing their mad hymns of triumph; hymns to God, - O’er the destruction of his gracious works! - Hymns to the Father, o’er his slaughter’d sons! - - Detested be their sword! abhorr’d their name, - And scorn’d the tongues that praise them!—Happier Thou, - Of peace and science friend, hast held thy course - Blameless and pure; and such is thy renown. - And let that secret voice within thy breast - Approve thee, then shall these high sounds of praise - Which thou hast heard be as sweet harmony, - Beyond this Concave to the starry sphere - Ascending, where the spirits of the blest - Hear it well pleased:—For Fame can enter Heaven, - If Truth and Virtue lead her; else, forbid, - She rises not above this earthy spot; - And then her voice, transient and valueless, - Speaks only to the herd.—With other praise - And worthier duty may She tend on Thee, - Follow thee still with honour, such as time - Shall never violate, and with just applause, - Such as the wise and good might love to share. - - - - -ON THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN COOK. - - - I will not meditate in idle show - Of labour’d lines my sorrow to relate; - All artless as the tears my verse shall flow - That good men weep for his untimely fate. - - The friends of peace and friends of human kind - To mourn thy loss, adventurous Chief, agree; - And all who love the bold or generous mind, - And all who science love must weep for thee. - - By thee to soft Taheite’s sultry clime, - By thee to chill Kamschatzcha’s frozen zone, - And Isles ne’er view’d till George’s golden time - Britannia’s mighty name at length was known. - - O how unlike Magellan! he who bent - His daring sail to untried winds, and first - The world encompass’d—save in sad event - Of timeless death by savage hands accurst. - - The Arts of Peace He cared not to extend; - For gold th’ untravel’d sea his bark explored, - For lust of gold he rashly strove to bend - The free-born Indian to his lawless sword. - - Not such the generous purpose of thy will; - With zeal untired and patient toil it strove - To make th’ untutor’d savage learn thy skill, - And the fierce-manner’d tribes embrace thy love. - - For this thy vessel plough’d the stormy wave, - For this the pendent globe thrice circled round, - When the rude hand of some unconscious slave - With brutal fury dealt the fatal wound. - - Hold! hold, Barbarian! shall the guilty strife - Provoke to mortal acts thy frantic hand? - Let fall thy stroke on some less-valued life; - But save, O! save the Chieftain of the band! - - E’en hostile kings bade spare his honour’d head, - The bloodless trophies of his fame bade spare; - And Peace and Science wide their influence spread - To guard him from the wasteful rage of war: - - In vain—he falls—he dies—behold him bleed— - Ah wretched Isle! ah murderous, murderous race! - The guilt, the memory of this ruffian deed - What pains can expiate, or what time efface? - - Henceforth no ship shall spread her canvas wing - To visit that inhospitable strand; - Save that in after times if chance shall bring - Some bark storm driven near the hateful land; - - Ev’n then the hardy mariner shall mourn; - And as he views it rising from the main, - Far from the inhuman shore his prow shall turn, - Cursing the murderous isle where Cook was slain. - - - - -ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF DR. W. HAYES, PROFESSOR OF MUSIC IN THE UNIVERSITY -OF OXFORD. - -_Set to Music by his Son and Successor, P. Hayes._ - - -SYMPHONY. - - These sounds of grief, this solemn air, - To thee I sing, dear, honour’d shade! - Hear, spirit of my father, hear! - To thee these mournful rites are paid. - - _Here followed an Organ Movement, being a Psalm Tune - of the Professor, Dr. Wm. Hayes._ - - Such the last strains by thee were tried, - Strains that to holy Choirs belong; - While Age, that wasted all beside, - Yet spared the sweetness of thy song. - - So pass’d he: nor approved alone - In science; like his gentle art, - His life was Music, and in tone - With Virtue’s harmony his heart. - - O! let thy tuneful Spirit, to hear - The melancholy strains we raise, - Now stoop from that celestial sphere - Where Music is the voice of Praise! - - - - -THE WORLD[16]. - -INTENDED AS AN APOLOGY FOR NOT WRITING. - -BY A LADY. - - - Wide Habitation of the Sons of Men, - Wherein the seeds of vice and virtue lie - Mix’d, like the undigested Elements - Ere Chaos lost his kingdom; where blind Chance - With Passion holds divided anarchy; - O! who can rightly scan thee, or describe? - Subject ill suited to a Virgin’s Muse, - That cannot praise, and is to blame untaught: - Wherefore from this unprofitable theme - She turns, leaving unsung its argument; - Save that with careless hand her lute she strikes - Lightly, nor hoping that the myrtle wreath - Shall crown her unpremeditated lay. - -[16] This was among the subjects for a Prize Poem, given out by Sir John -and Lady Miller at Bath Easton. - - - - -THE BRITISH THEATRE. - -WRITTEN IN 1775. - - - When first was rear’d the British Stage, - Rude was the scene and weak the lay; - The Bard explored the sacred Page, - And holy Mystery form’d his Play. - - Th’ affections of the mortal breast - In simple Moral next he sung, - Each Vice[17] in human shape he drest, - And to each Virtue[17] gave a tongue. - - Then ’gan the Comic Muse unfold - In coarser jests her homely art: - Of Gammer Gurton’s[18] loss she told, - And laugh’d at Hodge’s awkward smart. - - Come from thy wildly-winding stream, - First-born of Genius, SHAKSPEARE, come! - The listening World attends thy theme, - And bids each elder Bard[19] be dumb: - - For thou, within the human Mind - Fix’d, as on thy peculiar throne, - Sitt’st like a Deity inshrined; - And either Muse is all thine own! - - Yet shall not Time’s rough hand destroy - The scenes by learned Jonson writ; - Nor shall Oblivion e’er enjoy - The charms of Fletcher’s courtly wit: - - And still in matchless beauty live - The numbers of that Lyric Strain - Sung gayly to the Star of Eve - By Comus and his jovial Train. - - Here sunk the Stage:—and dire alarms - The Muse’s voice did overwhelm; - For wounded Freedom call’d to arms, - And Discord shook the embattled Realm. - - But Peace return’d; and with her came - (Alas! how changed!) the tuneful Pair: - Thalia’s eye should blench with shame, - And her sad Sister weep to hear - - How the mask’d[20] Fair, in Charles’s reign, - Her lewd and riotous Fancy fed - At Killigrew’s debauchful scene, - While hapless Otway pined for Bread. - - Thus the sweet Lark shall sing unheard, - And Philomel sit silent by; - While every vile and chattering bird - Torments the grove with ribald cry. - - And see what witless Bards presume - With buskin’d fools to rhyme and rage; - While Mason’s idle Muse is dumb, - And weary Garrick quits the Stage. - -[17] Personification of the passions in the moralities. - -[18] Gammer Gurton’s Needle is the oldest English comedy; the distress of -it arises from the loss of the needle, which at last is discovered in her -man Hodge’s breeches. - -[19] There were no plays of any note before Shakspeare. - -[20] The custom of that time, for fear of hearing indecencies, otherwise -too gross to be supported. - - - - -ON TWO PUBLICATIONS, ENTITLED EDITIONS OF TWO OF OUR POETS. - - - When Critic Science first was known, - Somewhere upon the Muse’s ground - The PRUNING KNIFE OF WIT was thrown; - Not that which Aristarchus found: - - That had a stout and longer blade, - Would at one stroke cut off a limb; - This knife was delicately made, - Not to dismember, but to trim. - - With a short harmless edge a-top, - ’Twas made like our prize-fighting swords; - Pages and Chapters ’twould not lop, - But cut off syllables and words. - - Well did it wear; and might have worn - Full many an age, yet ne’er the worse; - Till Bentley’s hand its edge did turn - On Milton’s adamantine verse. - - Warburton seized the blunted tool, - Scarce fit for Oyster-opening Drab: - For Critic use ’twas now too dull, - But tho’ it would not cut, ’twould stab; - - Then Shakspeare bled, with every friend - That loved the Bard:—he threaten’d further; - And God knows what had been the end, - Had not Tom Edwards cried out “Murther!” - - Confounded at the fearful word, - Awhile he hid the felon steel; - Now gives it Mason, lends it H—; - Ah! see what Gray and Cowley feel! - - - - -THE SPLEEN. - - - I am not of their mind who say - The World degenerates every day; - Nor like to hear a churl exclaim, - In rapture at Queen Bess’s name, - And cry, “What happy times were those - “When Ladies with the sun uprose, - “And for their breakfast did not fear - “To eat roast-beef and drink strong-beer! - “Then buxom health and sprightly grace - “Enliven’d every blooming face, - “Blooming with roses all its own; - “And rouge, tea, vapours, were unknown.” - - Nature, still changing, still the same, - Hath so contrived this worldly frame, - That every age shall duly share - The good or ill that flows from Her. - Thus we, a spleenful race, are free - From magic and from sorcery; - While those who lived with good Queen Bess - (As they that know the truth confess) - Tho’ Spleen and Vapours there were none, - Had Imps and Witches many a one; - And he who, ’cause he has not seen, - Will not believe, hath ne’er, I ween, - With due attention mused upon - Thy page, O BRITISH SOLOMON! - - Thus far in preface—Now I’ll tell - How Spleen arose, when Witchcraft fell. - By vengeful laws the Wizard brood - Long harass’d and at last subdued, - Their black Familiars all repair - Before the throne of Lucifer, - With sad petitions, setting forth - Their many grievances on earth, - What torments they were doom’d to bear - While tending on their Witches there: - Some drown’d, to prove their innocence, - Or, ’scaping, hang’d on that pretence; - Some burnt within their steeple hats, - Some nine times murder’d in their Cats: - Brief, they petition’d to enjoy - Some less adventurous employ, - Since witchcraft now was thought so common - They were not safe in an old woman. - - Their suit was granted—up they came - New-liveried in sulphur flame, - With licence thro’ the realm to range; - But, with their pow’r, their name they change. - Magic no longer now is seen, - And what was Witchcraft once, is Spleen: - Yet still they most delight to vex, - As first they did, the female sex; - And still, like an old witch’s charm, - They tease, but have no power to harm. - - Tho’ Doctors otherwise have told, - The tale is true that I unfold: - And with my system suits the name, - For Spleen and Vapours are the same; - And all the country people know - That these, ascending from below, - Are DEVILS of peculiar hue, - And from their colour call them BLUE. - - - - -LINES WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL IN A LADY’S ALMANAC. - - - Go happy lines, yet fearful go, - To meet Louisa’s secret eye! - Tell what I wish her heart should know, - Yet, rather than declare, I die. - - Perhaps she’ll scorn ye, and despise - The tribute of a heart so poor— - Too valueless to be the prize - Of Beauty, proudest conqueror. - - Then tell her that her touch alone - Destroys your pencil’d forms with ease; - And say your fate is like my own, - To be or not, as she shall please. - - But should her gentleness now spare, - Pass one short year, and ye are not! - A little year shall send you where - You’ll perish among things forgot; - - Yet so, how envied should you be! - For who is he would not prefer - Before an immortality, - To live a year, a day with Her? - - I fear she’ll turn ye all to jest: - Then let her know I’ve made my prayer, - That, when by beaux, smart beaux, carest, - She ne’er may feel a tender care! - - But while they sigh, or kneel, or vow, - Think it all done in sport and play; - Or write love-rhymes (as I do now), - Laugh, but not trust a word they say. - - - - -TO A YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN, WITH THOMSON’S SEASONS, DOUBLED DOWN AT THE STORY -OF PALEMON AND LAVINIA. - - - Anna, when you shall read in this true tale - How young Lavinia from her lowly state - Was led to splendor, wealth, and dignity, - By generous Palemon wooed and won - To be his bride, (such happy fortune found - Her virtues, and deserved no less)—so think - Your beauty, temper’d with sweet bashful grace - Of modesty and native elegance, - So think these charms—not sparingly bestow’d - But in the pride and prodigality - Of liberal Nature, fashioning her work - To a rare excellence,—these shall inflame - Each generous heart with love, and the dear hope - To win your gentle favour, and possess - A lovelier Lavinia found in you. - - - - -SONNET. - - - Ah! where is hid, if still it may survive - The canker’d tooth of Age and Time’s despight, - Ah! where is hid that Orb of glass so bright, - That Merlin for King Ryence did contrive; - That wond’rous Orb so bright, wherein did live, - Or ever Time had brought them into light, - The forms of things unborn, which to the sight - Its high-enchanted power would strangely give!— - For Hope, with counterfeit of this true Glass, - Doth so beguile the lover’s easy mind, - Still turning it to Fancy’s idiot eye, - That Reason’s self forgets her majesty - To join the gaze; till the fond phantoms pass, - And Grief and stern Repentance rise behind. - - - - -SONNET TO PETRARCH. - - - O for that shell, whose melancholy sound, - Heard in Valclusa by the lucid stream - Of laurel-shaded Sorga, spread thy theme, - Fair Laura and her scorn, to all around - High-built Avignon, on the rocky mound - That banks the impetuous Rhone, and like a steam - From some rich incense rising, to the extreme - Of desolate Hesperia did rebound, - And gently waked the Muses:—so might I, - Studious of song like thee, and ah! too like - In sad complaint of ill-requited love, - So might I, hopeless now, have power to strike - Such notes, as lovers’ tears should sanctify, - And cold Fidele’s melting sighs approve. - - - - -TO A LADY, WHO DESIRED SOME SPECIMENS OF THE AUTHOR’S POETRY. - - - Let not Eliza bid me now rehearse - The unvalued rhymes that long forgotten lie: - For all unfit is my rude-fashioned Verse - To meet the censure of her curious eye: - - But for her sake a subject could I choose - To draw down fame and envy on the Bard, - Thy lovely Self should be my theme and Muse, - And thy sweet smile, Eliza, my reward. - - - - -EPITAPH ON A CHILD WHO DIED OF A SCARLET FEVER IN THE FIFTEENTH MONTH OF -HIS AGE. 1802. - - - Though thou wert dear, for lovely was thy form, - And fair thy mind, and hopeful from thy birth; - Though sudden was the pestilential storm - That beat thy tender blossom to the earth; - For thee we grieve not; certain that the soul - Yet sinless, bursting from its earthy clod, - Is borne on angel wings beyond the pole, - Where infant innocence hath place with God. - - - - -EPITAPH ON SIR CHARLES TURNER, BART. IN THE FAMILY MAUSOLEUM AT KIRK -LEATHAM, YORKSHIRE. - - - Beneath this hallow’d vault, this awful shade, - Amidst his generous Forefathers laid, - Lo TURNER sleeps, the latest of his race, - In prime of manhood given to Death’s embrace. - Heir of their name, and of their virtues heir, - His heart was liberal, courteous, brave, sincere. - Nor that his only praise; his patient mind, - Cheerful in grief, in agony resign’d, - Long bore the tedious hours of cureless pain, - Which Love and Friendship strove to soothe in vain. - Farewell, dear Consort of my happier days! - To Thee this duty thy THERESA pays, - Lamenting still for Thee, ’till fate shall join - Her kindred spirit and her dust with thine. - - - - -LINES WRITTEN AT THE TOMB OF WILLIAM OF WYKEHAM, IN WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. - - - Wykeham, around thy venerable tomb - With fond affection still thy children come; - And tho’ no more the loud-voiced hymn they sing, - Still silent prayers and heartfelt wishes bring, - That thy departed Spirit, secure and blest, - May with the destined heirs of glory rest; - And, for thy pious bounty here bestow’d, - Treasure in Heaven may have, and joy in God! - - - - -TRANSLATION OF A GREEK INSCRIPTION UPON A FOUNTAIN[21]. - - Αγροτα συν ποιμυαις, κ. τ. λ. Vitruvius, Lib. 8. c. 3. - - - Shepherd, if thirst oppress thee, while thy flock - Thou lead’st at noon by this Arcadian spring, - Here freely drink thy fill, and freely bring - Around my Naïads all thy fleecy stock: - - But in the water wash not, lest thou feel - Loathing, and strange antipathy to wine; - Such power it hath to make thee hate the vine, - E’er since my fount did Prœtus’ daughters heal;— - For here Melampus bathed them, here he cast - A spell to purge their madness off, and hold - The secret taint; what time from Argos old - To rough Arcadia’s mountain heights he past. - -[21] There was a fountain in Arcadia, which had the reputation of -creating an aversion to wine in whoever happened to bathe in it, although -the water was innocent and wholesome to drink: and the tradition was, -that it had received this singular property from Melampus, a celebrated -physician of antiquity, when he made use of it to cure certain Arcadian -princesses, the daughters of Prœtus, of a strange species of madness. -These young ladies fancied themselves to be changed into cows. The story -is frequently alluded to by the poets; both Ovid and Virgil mention it. - - - - -FROM LUCRETIUS. - - sæpius olim - Religio peperit scelerosa.—Lib. I. v. 83. - - - Yet Superstition has of old brought forth - More impious wickedness; witness that time - In Aulis, when at Dian’s temple met - Th’ associate Princes, Chiefs, the prime of Greece, - And stain’d her altar with the virgin blood - Of Iphigenia: o’er her youthful locks - They bound the fillets; on her cheeks she felt - The dress of sacrifice: but when she saw - Beside the altar her dear father stand - In sorrow, and for his sake the ministers - Hiding their knife, and all the assembly round - Weeping at sight of her; when this she saw, - Struck mute with terror, on her knees she sunk. - Ah! then in vain she called upon her king, - Her father, urged him by a parent’s love - To save his wretched child; while ruthless hands - Bore her all trembling to the altar’s base; - Not for her nuptials, not for holy rites - Of Hymen, tended on with dance and song; - But for a foul and bloody sacrifice. - So fell this chaste and tearful victim, slain - Ev’n in her marriage hour; and all to free - Their wind-bound Navy from the fancied let - Of adverse Deities, to such a guilt - Could Superstition prompt a father’s heart. - - - - -FROM LUCRETIUS. - - Suave, mari magno turbantibus.—Lib. II. v. 1. - - - Sweet is it, when the stormy winds have roused - The boisterous ocean, from on shore to view - The toiling mariner; not that the pain - Of others gives us pleasure, but for that - To see what ills we ’scape ourselves is sweet: - And it is sweet, when armies on the plain - Array’d for battle join in mortal strife, - To stand aloof from danger and look on: - But nothing sweeter is, than all serene - In the strong towers of wisdom high to dwell, - And thence look down upon the wandering race - Of men, that vainly seek the path of life; - Vying in genius, or nobility; - With unabated labour, night and day - Striving to rise supreme in wealth or power. - - - - -FROM LUCRETIUS. - - Avia Pieridum peragro loca.—Lib. IV. v. 1. - - - Pierian heights, the Muses’ trackless haunts - And wilds untrodden erst by mortal feet, - O’er these I wander, haply there to find - New flowers and fountains new; I love to drink - Of the pure stream fresh-welling, and to cull - A wreath of orient hues and odours rare, - Whence never poet yet his chaplet wove. - - - - -PSALM LXXII. ABRIDGED, AND ADAPTED[22] TO A PARTICULAR TUNE. - - - Lord, to the King thy judgments give, - Give to his Son thy righteousness: - So shall thy people safely live, - So he thy chosen flock shall bless. - - Great his dominion, large his sway - O’er earth and ocean shall extend: - Him shall remotest isles obey, - Him the wide sea from end to end. - - War and the battle then shall cease, - Then righteous men in favour stand; - Peace shall return, a lasting peace; - Plenty again shall store the land. - - While He, with choicest blessings crown’d, - Long on his throne shall sit sublime; - Honour’d by all the nations round, - Honour’d by Kings of every clime. - - Blest be our God for these fair days, - These happy days that rise again! - O may his glorious name and praise - Fill all the earth! Amen, amen. - -[22] By adapted, is here meant, partly, that the accented syllables in -the verse coincide with the accented notes of the tune. - - - - -MIDNIGHT DEVOTION. - -WRITTEN IN THE GREAT STORM, 1822. - - - When the storm’s increasing roar, - In the fearful hour of night, - And the blast that rives my door - Start the sleepers with affright; - - While the fierce descending rain - And the warring winds of heaven - All embattled rush amain - On my fragile window driven; - - I, for those who bide this pelting, - Breathe a prayer of charity, - And, my soul with pity melting, - Heavenly Father, call on Thee. - - - - -SILBURY HILL[23]. - - - O thou, to whom in the olden time was raised - Yon ample Mound, not fashion’d to display - An artful structure, but with better skill - Piled massive, to endure through many an age, - How simple, how majestic is thy tomb! - When temples and when palaces shall fall, - And mighty cities moulder into dust, - When to their deep foundations Time shall shake - The strong-based pyramids, shall thine remain - Amid the general ruin unsubdued, - Uninjured as the everlasting hills, - And mock the feeble power of storms and Time. - -[23] Silbury Hill is a Barrow of the largest size. It stands close by the -road from London to Bath: 80 miles west from Hyde-Park Corner. - - - - -TO THE DAISY. - - - Gentle flower, young April’s pride, - Say not Nature hath denied - Thee her bounty or her grace, - Though thou lack the Rose’s face. - - Where she spreads her carpet green - There thy maiden form is seen, - Drest in robes of purest white, - Ever constant in her sight, - But at will to wanton wild, - Like a playful darling child. - - Thee she tends in summer days, - And the nibbling ewes that graze - Spare to crop her favourite: - And the Fairies, when by night - Their green paths they quaintly tread, - Walk not o’er thy sleeping head. - - - - -FRAGMENT. - - - King Richard in the gray Tower sate, - Captive of Austria’s haughty Lord, - In a strange land, unhonour’d, unexplored, - To felon durance changed his royal state. - Pale was his haggard eye, - And sunk his cheek, to stern captivity - In all—all but in his Lion heart subdued: - He sate in melancholy solitude, - And sadly gazed upon the setting sun, - As down the heavenly road, - That all with purple glow’d, - It wested toward his realm of Albion. - - - - -FROM PURCHASE’S PILGRIMAGE, VERSIFIED AND DESIGNED AS A MOTTO TO “VOYAGES -FOR THE DISCOVERY OF A N. W. PASSAGE.” - - - How shall I admire - Your courage, ye marine Adventurers? - Worthies, beyond all names of worthiness! - Who can endure alike the Sun so long - Present or absent; and without a dread - Encounter foggy mist, tempestuous sleet, - Cold blasts, with snows and hail in th’ frozen air, - And those unequal seas which might amaze - All ears and eyes, yea, and make Neptune’s self - To quake with chilly fear when he beholds: - When his huge Monsters, Icy Isles, disdaining - His sovereignty, and the Sun’s hot violence, - Muster upon those watery plains, for war, - Continual war; and wheresoe’er they rush - Make winds and waves give back, till, in the shock, - Crashing and rending their congealed sides, - They split themselves with their own massiness. - - - - -FRAGMENT. - - - But who is He shall put his daring hand - To Love’s mysterious Harp, and with rude touch - Discordant violate the silver string - Whose note is sweeter than the balmy South - Impregn’d with soft Æolian harmony! - The Song of Love is like an Angel’s voice - Attuned to heavenly music; and once heard - On this Terrestrial; when the Bard of Thrace - Bewail’d his lost Euridice, it drew - The wild Inhabitants to hear his Lyre;— - Yea savage Beasts and Things inanimate - To listen to his dulcet melody:— - Such power is in the magic sounds of Love. - - - - -THE RAPE OF PROSERPINE. - - - O for the thousand flowers that erst did bloom - In that Sicilian Valley wild, - Where golden Ceres left her Child - Conceal’d from all the Sons of Jove, - So to elude th’ inevitable doom - Of Fate, and stronger Love! - In vain.—The grisly Monarch of the Dead, - Stern Dis, uprears his gloomy head - Mid the black smoke and ruddy flames that wrap - Around old Ætna’s smould’ring top; - There, as the wandering Nymph he view’d, - Awhile in blank amaze he stood - Till Love to fury roused his blood. - He call’d his ebon Car and Steeds of fire: - They came, and with the headlong torrent’s speed - Down to the lily-spangled mead - They bore their mighty Sire: - Swift in his arms the fainting Maid he took, - Then drove impetuous on, while all Sicilia shook. - - - - -SONNET. - - - O thou, to whom my heart (no longer mine) - Doth yield itself a captive love-subdued; - Fair goodly frame of Nature’s work divine - To inchase the gem thy mind more fair and good, - Let not thy scorn pursue the Muse’s Son, - For gentle is his mind, and pure his flame, - And for thy love he shall inscribe thy name - Among those Fair whose peerless beauty won - Renown from ancient bards, on harp and lyre - So sweetly sounded, that the wondering Earth, - Thro’ all her climes, yet listens to the strain. - O meekly-blooming Flower, if on thy birth - Soft Pity shed her dew, quench not his fire, - Quench not his hallow’d fire with cold disdain. - - - - -SONG. - - - When PHŒBUS, for what crime unknown, - Was exiled from the Courts of Jove, - And to this earth came mournful down, - Of all things else bereft, but love; - - (For that pure Fire feels not the storms - That shake or change this worldly frame; - Immortal as the soul it warms, - It burns in unextinguish’d flame—) - - His fingers to the lyre he turn’d, - Then all with chords of sorrow strung; - The lost delights of heaven he mourn’d, - But more her loss, for whom he sung: - - He sung so sweetly that the strain - Drew pity from the gods above; - They call’d the wanderer back again, - And gave the MUSE to crown his love. - - - - -SONG. - - - To thy cliffs, rocky SEATON, adieu! - And adieu to the roar of thy seas! - And adieu to the Girl, whose insensible heart - Is as hard and as sullen as these! - - Forget the fond echoes you heard! - Forget my fond hope and my strain! - My strain is neglected and dead is my hope:— - But you never shall hear me complain—— - To thy cliffs, rocky SEATON, adieu! - - - - -SONG. - - - Gentle Stream, whose wild meanders - Cheer the birds and feed the flowers, - While by thee Amelia wanders, - Wilt thou soothe her pensive hours? - - If the world were at my bidding, - Music should her steps attend, - And where’er her feet were treading, - Flowers should bloom, and sweets ascend. - - - - -SONG. - -TO A LADY GOING TO HER FAMILY IN IRELAND. - - - Will you go, Mary, from me? - Is it choice, or love or duty, - That you trust your worth and beauty - Upon the stormy Sea? - - Can you hope, Mary, to find, - Tho’ you rove the wide world over, - Friends so true, so fond a Lover, - As you leave here behind? - - - - -TO THE SUN. - - - O Thou whose inextinguishable eye - Now sleeps beneath the ocean stream, - Whether the star of morn shall call thee forth - To pour thy rich and fiery beam - Through the wide arch of an unclouded sky; - Or whether the rude North - Shall o’er thy head his showery mantle cast, - Making the dank earth shiver at his blast; - Welcome alike to me! the genial day - That gave my fair Eliza birth - Needs not thy gaudy smile to make it glad: - Still cheer the spleeny race of earth - With the warm lustre of thy fostering ray; - On me in vain are shed - Thy beams and unregarded, while I prove - The dearer influence of Her smiles and love. - - - - -SONG. - - - Artless words of unfeign’d passion - With harmonious numbers join’d, - Soothly try your soft persuasion - On Eliza’s gentle mind! - - For her ear alone intended, - Other censure nought regard: - If by her you are commended, - ’Tis enough for your reward. - - But why thus you seek to move her - Strive not further to explain!— - If her heart will not discover, - You or I should tell in vain. - - - - -TO A LADY, FORTUNE-TELLING WITH CARDS. - - - Dear Nancy, if you wish to know - What Fate reserves in store for you, - Ask not the idle cards to show,— - I’ll tell as wisely, and as true. - - For I will take a magic Book - Of characters divinely fair; - Upon thy lovely Self I’ll look, - And read, dear Girl, thy fortune there. - - By those love-darting Eyes I find - How many hearts their empire own; - I see the sweetness of thy mind - That keeps the hearts those eyes have won. - - Yet none among so many hearts, - Nor any you shall yet subdue, - Should you join all their better parts, - Can make a heart to merit you. - - Now, shall I look into your breast - And see what Heart is favour’d there?— - No,—be that fatal Truth suppress’d, - Lest I should sink in my despair! - - - - -EPIGRAM. - - - From two domestic acts of pious zeal - Learn what calamities sad mortals feel. - When Lord GEORGE GORDON of the Pope afeard, - (That was before he show’d a Jewish beard) - When he his Whiggish Mob had raised, they fly - On poor Lord MANSFIELD’S harmless Library. - Then were his legal Writings, precious store, - Burnt, or dispersed as Sibyl’s leaves of yore. - Twelve years elapsed from that disastrous tide, - And lo! another storm from t’other side! - In vengeance on their Presbyterian foes - The loyal Mob of Birmingham arose; - And as their zeal for _Church and King_ grew hot, - All PRIESTLEY’S books and papers went to pot. - Losses like these till then we never saw; - Priestley’s Divinity and Mansfield’s Law. - - - - -ON TWO ENGLISH POETS, WHO FLOURISHED IN THE FORMER HALF OF THE LAST -CENTURY, AND PUBLISHED COMPLIMENTARY VERSES ON EACH OTHER. - - - Edward, thy Ode’s too long by half, - Stephen’s Reply might spare a quarter: - Now, in my judgment, Stephen’s song - Is as much better, as ’tis shorter. - - Edward declares, though Milton’s lines - Rise to an unexampled height, - That, in heroics, Stephen shines - Like Milton, and almost as bright. - - Stephen for quittance makes reply, - That nothing in the world could hinder - (Except his native modesty) - Edward from taking place of Pindar. - - Stephen and Edward all this while - Are lying to each other’s face; - Edward can do ’t in bolder style, - But Stephen with a better grace. - - - - -VERSES TO THE HONOUR OF THE LONDON PASTRYCOOK, WHO MARKED “NO POPERY” ON -HIS PIES, &C. - - - I’ll sing the praise of Mr. B⸺, - Whose Pastry, watchful for the Church, - Whene’er it sees, or fears, a Plot, - Starts from his counter, piping hot, - To warn us of the dire intent, - And, like himself, is eloquent. - Pale Biscuits and stout Gingerbread - Th’ alarm of danger widely spread; - Then quaking Custards join the cry, - And Tartlets squeak, “No Popery!” - - Defender of the Faith! rare Cook, - Who mak’st thy Pastry-shop a Book - As formidable, and much more read - Than that which our eighth HENRY made, - Whose Church-of-England oven bakes - Protestant Appletarts and Cakes! - Children that feed upon thy Pies - Grow in religion as in size; - While, often as their mouths they ope, - They chew destruction to the Pope. - - Fame shall desert th’ ingenious Quaker - To celebrate our Cross-bun Baker; - Whose willing Pupils, apter far - Than all the school of Lancaster, - Shall read, and eat, his name enroll’d - On Cakes of Gingerbread in gold. - - - - -ON THE FUNERAL OF ⸺, IN A HEARSE AND SIX, FOLLOWED BY A MOURNING COACH -AND FOUR. - - - What, SAVE-ALL in a Hearse convey’d! - And _six_ brave Nags to draw _the Dead_! - ’Tis ruin!—Why, ’tis more by _five_ - Than e’er convey’d him while _alive_. - And look, what follows!—more and more - Profusion, in a _Coach and Four_! - - Such waste of what thou liv’dst to save, - Might break the quiet of thy Grave. - In what slow pomp the Rogues advance, - Courting, as ’twere, Extravagance! - O! the vast charge of every night! - They revel, and set nothing by ’t; - But give to have thee lie in state, - More than thou e’er paid’st there for meat. - What else?—their dead and useless load - They carry on the _Turnpike_ road, - Paying—but they care nothing, they, - How many Gates there be to pay.— - Plague on the Gates! how thick they are! - Five pounds will soon be squander’d here. - Another—and another yet! - And _Half-a-crown_ at every Gate; - Those Gates which thou didst alway shun, - To save thy _Pence_ from every one. - Alas! this needless cost is more - Than all th’ extravagance before! - To stop such charge, at least, arise - And show them—where the _Bye-way_ lies! - - - - -PARODY ON DRYDEN’S “THREE POETS,” &c. - - - Three Poets, born in different lands and ages, - Three different Heroes took to grace their pages: - The first, a Buonaparte, fierce to fight; - The next, a Methodistic Hypocrite: - No human character combined more evil, - So Milton for his Hero took the Devil. - - - - -EPIGRAM. - - - When first the Devil came in Milton’s view - A swindging Tail[24] upon his rump there grew: - But when in Pandæmomium he appears - How alter’d is his form! no tail he wears. - Such difference in that Personage is seen - As Milton by himself perceived, between - His full-grown Epic and his stripling Ode— - His tadpole Devil had become a Toad. - -[24] - - ——th’ old Dragon— - ——wroth to see his kingdom fail, - Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. - _Ode on the Nativity._ - - - - - -AN EXPOSTULATORY SUPPLICATION TO DEATH, AFTER THE DECEASE OF DR. BURNEY. - - - Thou Trojan Death! thou worse than Trojan foe - To English Greeks, the best of Greeks we know! - In three we boasted; three we had of late, - Rare Burney, matchless Porson, and the great - ΤΟΝ ΔΕΙΝΑ, props and pillars of our state; - Two thou hast ravish’d from us; and the land - Watches in anxious fear thy threat’ning hand. - Two thou hast ravish’d, but we can’t resign a - ΤΟΝ ΔΕΙΝΑ yet awhile,—O spare ΤΟΝ ΔΕΙΝΑ. - - - - -ON THE DECEASE OF HORNE TOOKE. - - - Horne Tooke is gone—rejoice and sing, - Ye Placemen, and ye Tools of a King! - He is gone!—then be his faults forgiven, - And let us hope he’s gone to Heaven. - That is a prayer you ought to make - If not for love, for interest’ sake; - For should he go to t’other place, - Think how he’ll plague your hireling race. - - - - -INSCRIPTION FOR THE GRANITE SARCOPHAGUS BROUGHT FROM ALEXANDRIA TO THE -BRITISH MUSEUM. - - - This was the tomb of Alexander, - The Macedonian great Commander, - Who dealt about his killing blows - Alike among his friends and foes: - Who went on plundering, burning, stabbing, - Carouzing, catamiting, drabbing, - Kept a Castrato[25] for his punk, - And died[26] heroically drunk: - And if at last he went to hell, - I warrant he deserved it well; - Whate’er is said by flatt’ring Mitford, - Who thinks he is gone to heav’n, and fit for ’t. - -[25] Q. Curt. b. x. c. 3. &c. - -[26] Athenæus, b. 10. c. 9. p. 434. Αλεξανδρος λαβων (το ποτηριον) -_εσπασε_ μεν _γενναιως_,——εκ τουτου νοσησας απεθανε. Alexander took the -cup, and _pulled nobly_ at it. - -Mem. It held near a gallon, and he had emptied it once already. - - - - -INSCRIPTION FOR A STATUE OF FIELD-MARSHAL SUWOROW. - - - This was a Warrior of renown, - A Hero bred, and born to kill; - Who scrupled not to shed his own[27], - When he lack’d other blood to spill. - And often would he turn his arms - On those within his bosom bred, - And quell by fire the mighty swarms[28] - That with his life-blood he had fed. - His person, cover’d o’er with glory, - In truth was little clean or nice; - And ’tis a question in his story, - Whether he kill’d more men[29] or lice. - -[27] It is related of him, that in his march to the attack of Oczakow, -he proceeded with such rapidity at the head of his men, that they began -to murmur at the fatigues which they endured. The marshal, apprised of -the circumstance, after a long day’s march, drew up his men in a hollow -square, and addressing them said, that “his legs had that day discovered -some symptoms of mutiny, as they refused to second the impulses of his -mind, which urged him forward to the attack of the enemy’s fortress.” -He then ordered his boots to be taken off, and some of the drummers -to advance and flog his legs, which was done till they bled very -considerably. He then put on his boots very coolly, expressing his hope -that his legs would in future better know how to discharge their duty. -His army afterwards marched on without a murmur. - -[28] Suworow affectoit beaucoup de simplicité et de rudesse. On le voyoit -quelquefois ôter sa chemise au milieu des Cosaques, et la fain chauffer, -en disant que c’étoit _pour tuer ses poux_. Vie de Catherine II. tome ii. -p. 373. - -[29] The number of men slaughtered by this hero was at the rate of more -than thirty a week, reckoning from the day of his birth to the age of 69 -years, according to the account given in the history of his campaigns, by -Frederic Anthing. - - - - -ON FIELD-MARSHAL SUWOROW. A DIALOGUE. - - - _A._ This Hero, though delighting much in blood, - Was yet a tender-hearted creature.—_B._ Good. - - _A._ Without remorse he slaughter’d Turk and Pole, - But still his nerves were very weak.—_B._ Poor soul! - - _A._ And he became a prey to grief, for why, - His master frown’d upon him.—_B._ O fie! fie! - - _A._ Unkindness did his gentle heartstrings crack, - And so the Hero came to an end.—_B._ Good lack! - - _A._ That one so valiant and so meek, is’t fit he - Should go at last to the devil?—_B._ What a pity! - - - - -ON F. W. THE KING OF PRUSSIA’S INEFFECTUAL ATTEMPT ON WARSAW. - - - When Frederic, when the Usurper turn’d - With baffled arms and insolence abash’d, - From fearless Warsaw’s radiant walls, - (For, crested with the Sons of Liberty, - Then stood they fearless and secure,) - No less than was that mount in Israel once, - Where Angels rode in fiery guard - Around the Prophet[30]. Ever such defence - Be made for freedom, and usurpers - Abated and confounded in their pride, - As Frederic now! He, when he turn’d, - Thus gave mad utterance to his spleeny mood:— - This royal merchandise of war - That wont to bring towns, cities, provinces, - To kings for profit, is become - A losing trade, or only serves to enrich - My shrewder neighbours, they who fight - In quarrels not their own, and wisely sell - The lives, unprofitable else, - Of their obedient multitude: but I, - Cursed be the hour I did so, I - Who had the wealthiest of the world my dupe, - England, to pay me lavish hire - For service ne’er perform’d, must needs, O fool! - To this most perilous venture run - On mine own credit: therefore am I made - A very bankrupt; all my hopes - Of victory, dominion, fortune, fame, - All ruin’d, and my royal word, - My promises and threats alike held vile - As the vain Brunswick’s menaces, - Horrible once, now laugh’d at and despised. - For who now fears me, or believes?— - But let me from this ruinous assault, - With what is left me, safe retire, - And I will yet regain the credulous ear - Of Her, whose unexhausted wealth - Exceeds all measure but her easy faith, - Good England:——O that I were now - In England, with my royal Brother there, - Giving a false alarm in jest - To Weymouth town, and Buckinghamshire Captains[31]. - -[30] “And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone -forth, behold, an Host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. -And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do? And he -answered, fear not; for they that be with us are more than they that be -with them. And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, -that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he -saw: and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire -round about Elisha.”—2 Kings, ch. vi. v. 15, &c. - -[31] About the commencement of the war in 1793, the late king used to -visit Weymouth for some weeks of the summer, when the Buckinghamshire -militia attended his majesty as a guard of honour. It was during one of -these visits that this military occurrence is reported to have taken -place. - - - - -POLITICAL ADVICE TO THE MEMBERS OF THE FRENCH CONVENTION. A DIALOGUE. - - - “Messieurs of the Convention, Gentlemen! - “Hav’n’t ye rebell’d against your sovereign?”—“Stuff.” - “Deposed him?”—“Nonsense.” “Murder’d him?”—“What then?” - “Usurp’d his place and kingdom?”—“Like enough!” - - “Hav’n’t ye bullied Princes far and near, - “Encroach’d upon your neighbours, ’gainst all Law? - “Without Religion, Honour, Faith, or Fear, - “Sworn and forsworn yourselves?”—“O, ça ira.” - - “Nay, Gentlemen, I speak not to upbraid: - “Rather, I’d say, you seem to need a spur: - “Hav’n’t ye still some object of your dread, - “Some innocent young Prince, your prisoner? - - “Poison him—stab him—put him out o’ th’ way— - “Is that so monstrous?—Nay, you have a pattern: - “Do as I bid you, then stand up, and say, - “We are now upon a par with Royal Kattern.” - - - - -WRITTEN WHEN BUONAPARTE WAS ALTERING THE GOVERNMENTS OF GERMANY. - - - The Madman thought that he did climb - Over the wall which bounds the universe; - And there he saw how father Time - Out of old Moons was busy cutting Stars. - - Thus o’er our globe Napoleon, - As if old Time had lent him scythe and wings, - Speeds and destroys, and for his fun - From waning Emperors cuts out little Kings. - - - - -SUGGESTED BY READING DRYDEN’S BRITANNIA REDIVIVA, - -_A Poem on the Prince, born on the 10th of June, 1688._ - - - When James the Second took his second spouse, - The royal couple (as their Church allows) - T’ obtain a son and heir devoutly pray’d, - And call’d on many a popish saint for aid; - By costly gifts and vows they sued to gain - Th’ inestimable boon, nor sued in vain: - A son was given; and as the story ran, - Their saints convey’d the blessing in a warming-pan. - - And now th’ expected babe, howe’er it came, - Was theirs; but living yet without a name. - Why to this Child of prayer, this boon of Heaven, - A name appropriate was not sooner given; - What moved the royal sire to make delay, - In such a case, ’tis difficult to say. - - Dryden suggests—go, read him if you doubt it, - There was some brawl among the Saints about it. - Good gracious folks, they could not yet agree; - Each eager that the name his own should be: - He thinks some wanted—but I dare not, I, - Repeat what follows of the irreverend lie. - Yet since I have curtail’d that Flatterer’s fable, - I’ll piece it with another as I am able, - And tell you the result of this celestial squabble. - - There stood an ancient One among the herd, - Who took no part, nor utter’d yet a word; - He seem’d not much acquainted with the rest; - His port was manly, simple was his vest, - And veil’d his head: but now he silence broke, - And thus in slow and sober tones he spoke. - - “The Babe, your present care, shall have a name - That all his life will follow him with shame. - Both He, and whomsoe’er he shall engender, - Will be deem’d spurious, and be call’d Pretender.” - - His words the saintly synod fill’d with rage, - Nor felt they reverence for his rank or age; - But with ungovernable fury big, - Call’d him Apostate, Protestant, and Whig. - Calm and composed, their cries awhile he bore, - Nor deign’d to make defence, nor utter’d more, - But, casting off his veil, naked he stood, - And TRUTH’s resplendent form abash’d they view’d. - - - - -SUCCESSION. - - - After a bad oft comes a worse; - Evil on evil, curse on curse: - So James to Charles succeeds, who fitter? - Of a French Popish mother’s litter - This was the next and favourite whelp; - He with Judge Jefferies’s help, - A fell-fang’d lurcher, hot for blood, - The gallant Algernon pursued; - Hamper’d him basely in a Coop, - Then ran him down, and cried whoo-whoop! - But though so fierce to treat this man ill, - His Jesuits used him like a spaniel; - Rated him soundly, or carest, - As served their ends and purpose best, - Which not long after to his cost - He felt, his crown and kingdom lost. - Ev’n then these Masters gave not o’er, - But taught him lessons as before; - How he might render Heaven his debtor, - And earn another crown and better: - Told him, ’twas highly meritorious - To exalt the Pope, and kill old Glorious: - That what he did t’avenge his Father, - He might do for himself, and rather. - So with his Priests and his Assassins, - By machinations, plots, compassings, - He struggled long against hard odds - To advance the Devil’s cause and God’s. - Hopeless at last, his means all spent, - He died a Murderer and a Saint. - - - - -EPIGRAM. - - Ille Crucem sceleris pretium tulit, Hic Diadema. - - - Good people of England, ’tis fit you should note - What you get, or may suffer, for bribing a vote; - And for an example we’ll bring to your view - An Irish Lord and a Baronet Jew; - The Jew and my Lord in a similar case— - One pays a great fine, t’other holds a great place: - My Lord is bedeck’d with a Ribbon and Garter, - The Jew is in Jail for two years, lack a quarter. - And now we’ll compare, if you please to allow us, - The Jew in his Jail, with my Lord in the House: - The Jew is surrounded by Felons and Debtors, - And my Lord by some folks who are little their betters. - - - - -ON THE INCREASE OF HUMAN LIFE. - - - Fate deals out human life by seven-year spaces: - Time was you would be thought in her good graces - With nine of these; when David lived ’twas ten; - If more She gave, ’twas only now and then, - A few cold years of winter, and the last, - Tho’ charged with toil and sorrow, quickly past. - But in our age more bounteous Fate appears, - And often grants a dozen-fold seven years; - Nay, be but still and temperate like the Quakers, - Perhaps she’ll make your dozen up a baker’s. - - - - -ODE TO THE KING OF FRANCE. 1823. - - - What moves thee, Louis, to forego - The quiet of thy peaceful reign? - Why challenge a reluctant foe, - Rushing to war, war unprovoked, again? - Examine well thine own estate, - And check thy hostile march before it be too late. - - When first thou wert an exile from thy home, - Unbroken was thy strength, thy health not wasted; - But couldst thou now endure to roam, - When both thy health and strength thou hast outlasted? - With peace and plenty to thy throne restored, - Perchance thou deem’st thyself adored: - Thou seest around thee subjects bending low; - But should misfortune now return, - Be sure thou soon shalt know - Thyself their hate, and all thy race their scorn. - - Where are thy men-at-arms, they, once who moved - So lively at the warlike trumpet’s call? - And where their chiefs, thy mareschals all, - Heroes in many a glorious battle proved?— - In stern repose each warrior lies. - As flowers that all the darksome night - Close themselves up, until the day-star rise, - Then ope, and turn, as worshipping his light: - So these, in sullen slumber now reclined, - May soon awake, when thou shalt find - Their worship and their service turn’d and gone, - Toward their own day-star, the young Napoleon. - - And darest thou, presumptuous, now demand - That Heaven shall speed thy mad career - To spoil an unoffending land? - And darest thou hope that Heaven will hear? - Believe it not:—but for thyself beware; - And learn to moderate thy prayer: - Pray that kind Heaven will condescend - To grant thee rest and safety till thine end; - And for the consummation of thy lot, - That old St. Denys will allow thee room - To sleep uncensured and forgot, - Among thy fathers in a silent tomb. - - - - -VERSES SPOKEN IN THE THEATRE, OXFORD, AT THE INSTALLATION OF THE -CHANCELLOR, LORD GRENVILLE, JULY 10, 1810, BY HENRY CROWE, A COMMONER OF -WADHAM COLLEGE. - - - Still through the realms of Europe far around - Echoes the martial trump, the Battle’s sound: - There many a nation, now subdued and broke, - In sullen silence wears the Tyrant’s yoke: - There the fierce Victor waves his sword, and there - Stalks amid ruin, and the waste of war: - And, where he bids the din of arms to cease, - He calls the silent desolation—peace. - - Yet what his prize of glory? What the gain - Of his wide conquest, of his thousands slain?— - His guilty seat on thrones subverted stands; - His trophies are the spoil of injured lands: - For his dark brow no comely wreath is twined, - But iron[32] crowns and blood-stain’d laurels bind. - - Far other objects here around us rise, - The monuments of nobler victories. - This splendid dome, yon goodly piles behold, - This favour’d ground adorning, which of old - Our first great Chief, a patriot Hero, chose - “For Learning’s triumph o’er her barbarous foes[33]:” - These are her honourable trophies; here - No spoils of plunder’d provinces appear. - Our hallow’d fanes, our lofty spires, were built - By pure and bounteous hands unsoil’d with guilt. - Pure also was the source: the bounty springs - From holy Prelates, from religious Kings; - Who in the peaceful walks of life pursued - Their godlike occupation, doing good; - And taught us, careless of a transient fame, - Like them to seek a worthier meed, and claim - Th’ immortal recompense that Heaven decrees - For charitable toils, and generous works of peace. - - Is there, who nurtured in this happy seat, - Still loves the Mansion, Learning’s choice retreat?— - Who yet these groves will honour, where his youth - Was early train’d to Virtue and to Truth;— - Who liberal arts and useful Science wooes, - And by the Muse beloved, protects the Muse; - Whose patient labour and unabated zeal - Pursues that nobles tend, his Country’s Weal;— - Watchful, and resolute in her defence - With counsel sage, and manly eloquence?— - For Him fair Fame her clearest voice shall raise - Till her high trumpet labours in his praise. - He ’bove the Conqueror’s name shall be renown’d, - Him Glory still shall follow, and around - Laurels unstain’d, unfading palms, shall spread, - Such as are now prepared for GRENVILLE’S honour’d head. - -[32] The iron crown of Italy. - -[33] Johnson’s Prologue, spoken at the opening of Drury-Lane, 1747. - - - - -AD MUSAS. - - - Dulce sub Autumnum, venienti frigore, mane - Lacte novo relevare sitim; dulce oscula Nisæ - Præripere, in fœno cum semisupina recenti - Dormit, nuda sinu; sub vespere dulce vagari - Quà vigil effundit liquidam Philomela querelam: - At mihi dulcis amor Musarum ante omnia: vos O - Pierides, vestro, precor, aspirate poetæ. - - - - - Ηως - Εργων ἡγητειρα, βιου προπολε θνητοισιν. - Or. Hym. - - - Roscida purpureos induta Aurora colores - Ingreditur cœlo jam reseratque diem; - Victoresque agitans currus nigra agmina Noctis - Turbat, et ætherio dissipat astra polo. - Eja, agite O Pueri, clarum prævertite Solem, - Nec pigeat molles deseruisse toros. - Igniferos etenim quicunque, aspexerit ortus, - Ille levis facti præmia magna feret: - Qualia non tulerit populi Moderator Eoi, - Darius memori nobilitatus equo; - Cui jubar exoriens primo vidisse suorum - Persarum quondam regna superba dedit. - Illi namque novo firmabit membra vigore, - Lætaque componet lumina diva Salus. - Tum validæ crescent generoso in pectore vires - Stabit et ingenuo plurimus ore decor. - Illum, seu tendit pellucida propter Ichini - Flumina, sive jugum per, Catharina, tuum, - Naiades excipient venientem ultroque juvabunt, - Dum ciet ad prædam subsequiturque canes. - Omnis ager suaves Illi spirabit odores, - Illi dulce melos concinet omne nemus. - Ille (licebit enim) Musas siquando vocârit, - Inveniet faciles in sua vota Deas: - Phœbo et gratus erit; neque Phœbus amicior ulli est - Quam sua qui primo numina mane colit. - - - - -JEPTHÆ VOTUM. - - - Jam Voti reus infausti de Marte redibat - JEPTHA; procul dulces emicuere Lares. - Non litui sonus auditur, nec classica spirant; - Corde dolens mutas Dux præit ipse manus. - Ecce egressa foras venientem Nata salutat! - Terruit aversum vox bene nota patrem; - Filia! tene mori! (vocem primo abstulit angor,) - Vota miser feci non revocanda Deo. - At Virgo, pietas cui pectora confirmavit, - Immota aspiciens retulit ore patrem; - O Pater, O belli sævis defuncte periclis, - Jeptha, vel in nòstro funere victor, Ave! - Debita solve Deo, me, me in tua vota paratam, - Filia non dubito pro Genitore mori. - - - - -PALMYRA. - - - Has moles murorum, has, O Palmyra! columnas - Gens magna et fortes incoluere viri, - Te dominam, metuere urbes, to cœrula ponti, - Eöique tibi dona tulere Duces. - Jam non ulla tuas hominum vox personat arces, - Vastâ, urbe in medià, strage Ruina sedet. - Sæpe etiam, nullo ventorum turbine pulsa, - Immani subitò saxa fragore ruunt. - Circum infinitus se pandit campus arenæ, - Sibilat ambusto Dipsas anhela solo. - In domibus sævi stabulant impunè Leones, - Informesque Apri, noctivagæque Tigres. - Obscænæ strident per putrida fana volucres, - Et Stygius circum Bubo cubile struit. - Humana instabili versantur cardine fata: - En, Roma in Gothicum quanta caduca rogum! - Invida det Fortuna diem, quo mens pia flebit - Heu! mersam exitio te, Rhedycina, pari. - - - - -AD HYACINTHUM. 1791. - - - Quis primo te mense, quis impulit, O Hyacinthe, - Ut tepidum Floræ desereres gremium?— - Num forte audisti Volucrem, quæ, nuntia Veris - Nunc vespertinum concinit ore melos?— - Num Zephyri molles dulcique Favonius aura - Lene susurrantes surgere te faciunt? - Ah! ne te lædat Boreas! neu cana pruina - Incidat in collum purpureumque caput! - En (quod ego possum) hâc vitreâ te casside dono, - Quæ gelido noctis tempore tegmen erit. - Acceptum tibi enim refero, quod Thestilis hortum - Non dedignetur visere sæpe meum. - Tum pulchros laudat flores et laudat odorem; - Et Dominus partem et tu quoque laudis habes. - Ergo ferens puros in te fundam ipse liquores, - Si mox defuerit fertilis imber aquæ. - O multùm salve mihi, Floscule, semper amate; - Et cito cum venias gratior ipse Rosis. - - - - -ROMULUS. - -SCRIPTUS 1803. - - - Rex ille Romæ Conditor, Remi frater, - Unde unde natus, in latrociniis certe - Nutritus, aptos possideret ut cives, - Suisque moribus simillimum cœtum, - Id nobile aperuit viris receptaclum - Quod nuncupant Asylon, hoc volens nempé - Ut seminario sibi novæ gentis - Sentinam haberet urbium propinquarum. - - Huc undique ingens ut confluxerat turba, - Statim parabat quos honoribus summis - Augeret ex his, imperîque consortes - Haberet, homines maxime fide claros, - Virtutibusque præ sociis adornatos. - Ergo, coactis civibus, legit centum - Qui consulant populo velut pater proli, - Vocatque Patres, plurimisque eos rebus - Ornat, facitque Concilium Sacrosanctum. - - His constitutis, laude floruit multa - Multos per annos, victor omnium late; - Stupro, rapinis, cædibusque agens vitam, - Et cuncta miscens; conniventibus Divis, - Ea quippe magni vindicant sibi Heroes, - Victoriarum jure parta tanquam sint, - Aut, merita propter, atque facta præclare, - In præmiorum parte habenda, sed parva. - - Verum Iste tandem morte plectitur digna, - Serasque dat Senatui suo pœnas: - Credo quod impius hisce Patribus sanctis - Cœpit videri, aut forte iniquior paulo - Quam ferre sane didicerant Senes justi. - Decrevit itaque Concilium sacrosanctum, - “Patres viderent ne quid hinc caperent damni - Ipsi,” suoque supplicium Duci poscunt. - - At vero, ut ista in fabula mulier quondam - Ex fele facta, pristinos tenuit mores, - Sic hi recurrunt proprium ad ingenium quisque - Notas per artes ut struant viro mortem, - Pretiumque mortis immortalitatem dent. - - Ergo, advocata concione, Rex Romæ - Cum sustineret grande nescio quod munus, - Et rite staret medius in globo Patrum, - Ecce inter inclytos Sicarios quidam, - Princeps Senatus, confodit latus ferro; - A tergo adortus, dexter artifex cædis, - Et cui nefas fuit, aut piaculum quemquam - Jugulare, ni mactâsset simplici plaga. - Spoliat jacentem Prædo nobilis Regem, - Antehac Asyli, nunc at Curiæ lumen, - Lingua manuque præter cæteros audax. - Jam proximi adsunt mos quibus fuit raptim - Surrepta pecora dissecare secreto: - Hi mortuum dispertiunt minutatim, - Celeriter, ut solebant quum timendum esset - Ne turpiter prehenderentur in furto. - Hæc terminata pars; operique succedit, - Quæ dissipandum curet clanculum corpus, - Exercita olim callida manus fraude, - Nec artis expers qua crumena tollatur - Haud sentienti furis improbam dextram: - Atqui profecto illius agminis Patres - Tanto fuerunt numero quantum adæquare - Concisa frustillatim membra vix possent, - Ut quisque Laticlavius suam partem - Haberet auferendam sub toga furtim. - - Ast interim tumultu fremere vesano, - Et concitari suspicata fraudem Plebs: - Regem reposcunt, nec abiisse adhuc credunt - Sublime raptum turbine, hoc licet Patres - Uno ore prædicent miraculum cuncti. - Productus ergo Testis est, gravisque auctor - Mendacii, prioris qui notam vitæ - Pensare sanctitate visus est summa: - Perjurioso facta est sic fides tandem, - Sic Romulus datur Deus Indiges cœlo. - - Ecquando erit quum talis exitus vitæ - Tibi parari possit, O decus nostri - Et gloria ævi! solus omne qui belli - Pacisque jus tibi arrogas, per Europen - Late tyrannus, Buonaparte, Gallorum - Patiens vocarier Consul, Dominus cum sis? - O magne Corse, tempus jam satis longum - Heros fuisti, quin fias abhinc Divus. - - - - -HELENA INSULA. - - - Avia Nereidum peragro loca, saxaque vasto - Circumfusa mari, sævis objecta procellis - Undique, et Australi sub sidere dissita longè. - - Insula parva quidem est, latuitque incognita quondam, - Donec Ulyssipolis navale Tagique fluenta - Linquentes Nautæ, post dira pericula ponti - Vix tandem incolumes tenuerunt: tum, quia festo - Visa die est Helenes, Helenæ de nomine Terram - Dixerunt; nunc est productum nomen, Helēna. - - Insula parva quidem, et nullos habitura colonos, - Ni procul a terris aliis, penitusque remota, - Opportuna foret lassis succurrere nautis, - Et requiem præbere brevem; namque omnia circum - Aspera sunt, nulloque hominum subigenda labore, - Sed tetra aspectu, et nigrantibus horrida saxis. - Utque Giganteo certamine credere fas est - Montesque scopulosque, quibus conscendere cœlum - Tentabant, Jovis irati sub fulmine et igne - Disjectos, jacuisse atrâ informique ruina; - Sic etiam hæc convulsa adeo confusaque Tellus - Stat, veluti ostendens dirupti rudera mundi. - - Hæc Terræ est facies, Pelagi neque mitior ora, - Vix uno portu modicis adeunda carinis: - Cætera, præcisis saxis circumundique cincta, - Navibus accessum negat, exitiumque minatur. - - At quamvis sit triste solum, sit inhospita circum - Ora maris, tamen omnino contemnere nolis; - Quippe coercendis Captivis non magis aptus - Est locus, aut toto custodia tutior orbe. - Non tali regione fuit, neque carcere septus - Ille, Tomitano qui flebilis Exul in agro - Fœmineas misera fundebat voce querelas: - Nec tam munito latebrosa Siberia claustro - Constringit Sontes, qui, propter crimina missi - Exilium in durum, per devia lustra ferarum - Errantes victum quærunt, multoque labore - Sollicitam tolerant vitam, quamvis ibi circum - Sepserit acris Hyems altæ nivis aggere terram, - Captivosque premat glaciali indagine cinctos. - - Et certè nullo nec tempore nec regione - Vir talis tantusque severo carcere vixit - Inclusus, qualem nunc insula claudit Helēna; - Carcer captivo, et Captivus carcere dignus. - - Illic Cyrneii Proles vesana parentis - Felix Prædo jacet, Bonaparte, haud utile mundo - Editus exemplum, terras tot posse sub uno - Esse viro. Cyrni fines, latebrasque suorum - Deseruit, fatale malum, fulmenque quod omnes - Percuteret pariter populos, et sidus iniquum - Gentibus, et monstrum non aversabile votis. - Quinctiam Oceano classes inferre parabat; - Isset in occasus, mundi devexa secutus, - Ambissetque polos: victrixque Britannia solùm - Hunc potuit finem vesano ponere Regi. - - Ergo nunc tempus lætos agitare triumphos, - Tristia quandoquidem cessarunt bella per orbem; - Et, bello cessante, redit Pax optima terris, - Et secura Quies, jamtandem Pace reducta, - Salvaque Libertas, domito occlusoque Tyranno. - -In this Poem ten lines together (a few words excepted) are taken from an -eminent Latin classic; which the writer mentions to avoid the imputation -of plagiarism, but presumes not to point them out to the learned reader. - - - - -ON CAPT. SIR M. MURRAY, WOUNDED AT THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION. - - - Quem neque Mars potuit, neque mox Neptunus in undis, - Illisa scopulo nave, domare virum, - Hunc ignota manus vulnusque ignobile stravit - Tentantem offenso sistere se populo. - Quid tibi cum populo tali in certamine, Nauta? - Horridior Marte est, surdior est scopulis. - At qui Te immeritum posuit discrimine tali, - Quam vellem Is tali vulnere concideret! - - - - -AMNESTIA INFIDA. - - - Heus Tu, tyrannica aucte nunc potentia! - Adverte mentem, et memineris quid dixerit, - Orator, olim commonens Antonium[34]. - “Judicia non times; ob innocentiam - “Si non times, hoc laudo; sin quod es potens, - “Nec lege vinctus non times, nescis ei - “Quid sit timendum, illo modo qui non, timet?” - Id crede dictum his qui sibi prætenderint, - Crudeliter quod egerint, Amnestiam, - Et facta iniqua lege iniqua munient. - -[34] Cic. Phil. 2. § 45. - - - - -PSALM CXIV. - - - Ægypti terram linquens Domus Israelis - Haud sine divino numine carpit iter. - En Pontus fugit aspiciens, Jordanus et ipse - Ad fontem versis usque recurrit aquis. - Tum quoque, ut exsultant agni prolesve caprarum, - Sic scopuli et montes exiliere loco. - Cur tu, Ponte, fugis? cur tu, Jordane, recurris? - Cur scopuli et montes exiliere loco? - Omniparens mater Tellus, tun’ quo duce nescis - Insolitum hæc faciat gens iter? Ipsa treme, - Præsentemque agnosce Deum, qui flumen arenis - Edidit, et silices fundere jussit aquam: - Cui placuit populum loca per deserta regenti - Tandem in promissa sede locare suum. - - - - -PSALM CXXXIII. - - - Quale sodalitium fraternos inter amores - Ducere sollicitæ jucunda oblivia vitæ! - Gratius unguento est, quo summi incana madescens - Barba Sacerdotis late diffundit odores. - Talis ab arce tua, Sion, diffunditur aura, - Sacro thure gravis, siquando roscidus Hermon - Verticibus depasta suis armenta gregesque - Mittit adurandos excelsa ad Templa Jehovæ, - Unde salus terris promissa ac vita perennis. - - - - -PSALM CXXXVII. - - - Jam pridem captiva altum Babylonis ad amnem - Turba sedebamus fixa dolore gravi; - Ad salices juxta pendebant cymbala nostra, - Et fractæ chelyes, et sine voce lyræ; - Dum ferus illudens Victor cantare jubebat, - Eja Sionæum jam resonate melos. - Quî terra procul a patria cantabimus ægri? - Possumus hic nostrum jam resonare melos? - O Solymæ suaves, O nomen dulce Sionis, - Si quando vestrûm non memor esse velim, - Tum mea lingua, precor, sit muta et fixa palato, - Fiat et ad solitos dextera inepta modos! - At Tu crudelis Babylon, quæ duriter in nos - Nunc sævis, nostris læta feroxque malis, - Haud impune feres: O sit, precor, ille beatus - Qui caput in vestrum hoc triste rependet opus: - Qui natos aut ense tuos sine more trucidet, - Aut duro illidat membra tenella solo. - - - - -IN OBITUM SENIS ACADEMICI, THOMÆ PRYOR, ARMIGERI. - - - Ουδ’ Οδυνης βελος οξυ δαμασσε νιν, ουδε νοσημα - Λυσιμελες κατετηξε ταλαιπωρῃ διασηψει· - Ηλθε δε δη Θανατος μαλακῳ εικασμενος ὑπνῳ - Ομματα και θελξας, την ψυχην εξεκλοπευσεν. - - - - -IN OBITUM J. N. OXONIENSIS, 1783. - - - Πολλα ποθ’ ὑβρισθεις, και σκωμματα πολλ’ υπομεινας, - Ως ατοπως διαγων τον βιον, ηδ’ αλογως, - Ωλετ’ Ιωαννης θειῳ χειμωνι νοσησας· - Ουκετ’ ονειδιζειν κειμενον, αλλ’ ελεειν. - - - - - Bene est cui Deus dederit - Parca quod satis est manu. - Hor. Lib. 3. Od. 16. - - - Οικον μεν τινα ναιω - Στεινον, πηλοδομον, καλαμοστεφη, - Ω κ’ επιβριθονται - Παντοιων ανεμων θυελλαι, - Ομβρος τε, βροντη τε Διος, - Εκπαγλως φθεγξασα - Χειμεριαις εν ωραις· - Εγγυς τε ποντος, - Επιβρεμων επακτιαις πετραισιν, - Ασπετον ηχον ορωρει· - Εγω δ’ ὁμως εκηλος ωδε παρμενω - Συν φιλοισι τεκεσσι, - Μουσῃ τε φιλῃ. - -January, 1791. - - - - -ΕΙΣ ΚΟΣΣΥΦΟΝ. - - - Αντι τεου μελεος, φιλε Κοσσυφε, ποικιλοτραυλου - Ισθ’ εν εμῳ κηπῳ, παντοσε καρποφαγος. - Ατρεμας εσθε, ξεινε, τα μεν κομαρα δροσοεντα, - Και συκους θερινους, πορφυρεοντε βοτρυν. - Αλλα ποθεις ταχ’ εκεινα τα μηλα (φερ’, ως καλον οζει) - Και ταδε σαυτῳ εχοις, σφηκας απωσαμενος. - Των δ’ αυ των κερασων περιφειδεο, πειναλεος περ, - Τηρησας γαρ εχω Φυλλιδι δωρα ταδε. - Ει δ’ αρα τωνδε φαγης, τοδε δεινοτατον σοι απειλω, - (Οιδα γαρ εν δαφναις τεκνα σα κευθομενα) - Ταυτα γε παντ’ αφελων, καλιης αμα, Φυλλιδι δωσω, - Αντ’ εδανων καρπων δωμα νεοσσοκομον. - Αλλα συγ’, ω δυστηνε, κινυρομενος περι παιδων, - Φωνησεις τι κυκνων ἡδιον οιχομενων. - - - - -INSCRIPTIO IN HORTO AUCTORIS APUD ALTON IN COM. WILT. - - - M. S. - GULIELMI CROWE, - SIGNIF. LEG. IV. - QUI CECIDIT IN ACIE, - 8 DIE JAN. A.D. 1815. ÆT. S. 21. - - Hanc Ego quam felix annis melioribus Ulmum - Ipse manu sevi, Tibi, dilectissime Fili, - Consecro in æternum, Gulielme; vocabitur Arbos - Hæc Tua, servabitque Tuum per sæcula nomen. - Te, generose Puer, nil muneris hujus egentem, - Te, jam perfunctum belli vitæque labore, - Respexit Deus, et cælestibus intulit oris. - Me tamen afflictum, me consolabitur ægrum, - Hoc Tibi quod solvo, quamquam leve, pignus amoris. - Quinetiam assidue hic veniam, lentæque senectæ - De Te, dulce Caput, meditando, tempora ducam: - Sæpe Tuam recolens formam, moresque decentes, - Dictaque, tum sancto et sapienti corde profecta, - Tum festiva quidem, et vario condita lepore. - Id mihi nunc solamen erit dum vita manebit. - - Tu vero, quicunque olim successeris Hæres - Sedibus his, oro, mœsti reverere Parentis; - Nec tu sperne preces quas hac super Arbore fundo. - Sit tibi non invisa, sit inviolata securi, - Et, quantum Natura sinet, crescat, monumentum - Egregii Juvenis, qui sævo est Marte peremptus, - Fortiter ob patriam pugnando: sic Tibi constans - Sit fortuna domus, sit nulli obnoxia damno; - Nec videas unquam jucundi funera Nati. - - - - -EPICEDIUM. - - HENRICUS CROWE, GEORGII FILIUS, AUCTORIS NEPOS - MORTUUS EST IN AFRICA, JUXTA CARTHAGINEM, - A.D. 1826. ÆT. S. 2. - BREVI POST MORTEM EJUS MATER ENIXA EST FILIAM - MATILDAM. - - - Talis eras Henrice, ut non mage pulcher Julus - Ille fuit, quem Diva Venus[35] (modo credere fas sit) - Raptum ex hisce locis olim longeque remotum - Idalio in luco mollique recondidit umbra; - Illius inque locum dulcem submisit Amorem, - Ne pater amissum graviter lugeret, at ipsum - Falleret assimilis nato forma atque figura: - A nobis Te, chare Puer, sic Fata tulerunt, - Inque vicem dederunt pulchram dulcemque Matildam, - Quæ Te, Henrice, refert oculis atque ore venusto. - -[35] Vid. Virg. Æn. 1. - - - - -DE SEIPSO MANDATUM AUCTORIS. - - - Hoc ubicunque cadet jaceat (modo sede sacrata) - Magno nec luctu dignum neque funere corpus. - Nec tumuli sit cura mei, neque carmina posco - Quæ poterunt nomenque meum famamque perennem - In tumulo servare; quid autem fama juvabit - Posthuma, terrarum quamvis impleverit orbem? - Spiritus alta petens cœli de vertice terras - Despiciet, curasque hominum ridebit inanes. - - THE END. - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEWESDON HILL: WITH OTHER -POEMS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -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. 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