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By Henty JAMES Pre, Esq. POET LAUREAL,
HERE is immortal Virtue's meed,
Th' unfading wreath of true renown,
Best recompence by Heav'n decreed
For all the cares that wait a crown;
If Industry, with anxious zeal,
Still watchful o'er the public weal;
If equal Justice' awful arm,
Temper'd by Mercy's seraph charm,
Are ineffectual to assuage
Remorseless Faction's harpy rage?
But the fell Dæmons, urg'd by Hell's behest,
Threaten, with framtic arm, the royal Patriot's Break!
Yet not, imperial George! at thçe
Was the rude bolt of Malice sped,
E'en fiends that Crown with rev'rence fee
Where Virtue consecrates th' anointed Lead
Noat thy bofom's fondest claim,
Thy Britain's peace their fhafts they aim.
Pale Envy, while o'er half the world
War's bloody banners are unfurlid,
Beheld our coasts from ravage free,
Protected by the guardian sea,
Where Commerce spreads her golden stores,
Where feets waft triumph to our Mores;
She law; and, fick’ning at the fight,
Withd.the fair profpext of our hopes to blight; to to Sought out, the object of our dearest care,
Found where we most could feel, and try'd to wound us there,
The broken shaft that coward Malice rear'd
Shall to thy fame eternal lustre give,
Inferibe on Hill’ry's page thy name reverd,
And bid it there with endless blazon live.
For there our son's remotest race;
In deathless characters, shall trace
How Britain's baffled foes proclaim'd their hate,
And deem'd her monarch's life the bulwark of the state.
Now strike a livelier chord-This happy day,
Selected from the circling year
To celeb ate a name to Britain dear,
From Britain's fons demands a festive lay.
Mild sov'reign of our monarch's foul,
Whose eye's meek radiance can controul
The pow'rs of care, and grace a throne
With each calm joy to life domestic knowo;
Propitious Heav'n has o'er thy head
Bloitoms of richer fragrance fhed
Than all th' affiduous Mufe can bring,
Cull'd from the honey'd stores of Spring:
For see, amid wild Winter's hours
A bud its filken folds display,
Sweeter than all the chalic'a fow'rs
That crown thine own ambrosial May.
O may thy smiles, bleft infant, prove
Omens of concord, and of love!
Bid the loud strains of martial triumph cease,
And tune to softer mood the warbling reed of Peace !
The Influence of Poetic I. PERSONIFICATIONs and ALLEGORIES
on Imitative ART and MORAL Hardiness, and the Effeet of that frigid Sophistry which abounds in modern PHILOSOPHICAL and DIDACTIC Poems.
(From the Progress of Civil SOCIETY, a DIDACTIC Poem, by Rio
CHARD PAYNE KNIGHT.]
TENCE Greece her Muses into being brought,
The daughters feign'd of Memory and Thought;
Inspiring goddesses of genial song,
To whom all arts that polith lite belong;
Wlo, led by heaven's eternal orb of light,
Each dormant spark of mental fire excite;
And as their leader's beams, where'er they glow,
Bid the numb'd seeds of life and motion grow;
So wherefue'er extends their soft control,
Bright Fancy's visions rouze the torpid soul;
Heaven breathes the fervid breath of life through all,
And unform'd matter quickens at its call.
Did raging storms o'er Ocean's bosom sweep?
'Twas angry Neptune smote the troubled deep :
Did clouds condens'd emit electric fire-
"Twas Jove's wide-wasting initrument of ire:
Did crops luxuriant fertile fields adorn?
'Twas Ceres deck'd the vales with wavy corn;
Or Bacchus bade the high embowering vine,
Loaded with clusters, round the elm entwine:
But, if they perish'd by untimely blight,
The Furies tainted the cold dews of night;
Or, if they fell beneath the waste of wars,
'Twas the dire ravage of insatiate Mars.
Thus, as the muse-inspired poet sang,
Each abstract cause to form substantial sprang;
Allumed a local dwelling, and a name,
And rose to Fancy in a human frame.
Hence mimic art presum'd, with bold design,
Nature's best works to embellish and refine;
In earthly moulds the soul's conceptions drew;
And raised immortal shapes to mortal view;
The attributes of Heaven in man combined,
And stamp'd his image with his Maker's mind.
The front majestic of imperial Jove,
Proclaim'd the ruler of the realms above :
Wisdom's mild light, in modest force array'd,
Beam'd in the image of his martial maid;
While keen sagacity and quickness Mone
In every feature of fair Maia's fon ;
Stout Hercules' vast limbs and spacious chest,
Pure abstract strength personified express'd:
Light Pleasure's smiling grace and wanton mien,
Play'd in the form of Love's voluptuous queen;
While from her half-closed eyes beam'd rays of fire,
And on her lips sprang fighs of young desire.
Alike each attribute divine was shown, In stated forms and features of its own; Presiding Genii watch'd o'er every hill, And Naiads rose in every limpid rill: Where'er the lonely wanderer chanc'd to rove, He found the immortal progeny of Jove: Diffused alike through ocean, earth, and air, Unnumber'd spirits heard his evening prayer; And still, as llumber closed his weary eyes, Bade dreams of comfort in his fancy rise ; Whilft hovering round celestial forms appear'd Raised drooping Hope, and finking forrow cheer'd.
Hail, happy errors of delusive Thought! Upreal visions, with true blessings fraught; Once more from heaven descend, to mortals kind, And caft your magic spells around the mind;
Film o'er the fight of speculative eyes,
Nor let us feel the curse, to be too wise !
Again, ye Muses, let your songs reiound,
And the vain sophist's frigid cant confound;
Again to rapture wake the lofty strains,
That once re-echoed o'er swift Meles' plains;
Or, with less bright and animating glow,
Cheer'd wintry Ascra 'midst her wilds of snow;
Or rose fedate, with calm and steady pride,
Where Mincius' streanis in wandering eddies glide;
And taught the ruthless fons of war and spoil,
To honour agriculture's useful toil.
Truth now is all the Muses have to boast,
Since Fancy mourns her airy visions loft;
And Fiction, stripp'd of every playful grace,
To frigid sophistry resigns its place ; .-
To frigid sophistry, which breaks the spells,
Beneath whose Thade the magic power dwells;
And all its elevated flights confines,
Low in the trammels of its crític lines;
Or cramps its vigour, and its fervour cools,
In the dull torpor of unmeaning rules;.
Till quite benumb’d, it now can only move,
In scenes of private life, and hapless love;
Where tales on tales, through endless volumes flow,
Stuffd with the unmeaning cant of love and woe:
O'er which fond sentimental damsels weep,
Till, drown’d in sorrows, - they fall fast alleep.
But the bright visions, which in days of yore,
Plumed Fancy's wings, and taught the mind to foar,
Are sunk for ever from the prying light,
Since touch'd by sophistry's cold blasting light.
No Genii now through seas of ether glide,
To wing the breezes, or the tempests guide;
No thundering god the mountain's summit throuds,
In rolling eddies of sulphureous clouds:
No playtul Dryads cheer the lonely woods,
Or sportive Naiads float in crystal foods :
The world proceeds by cold mechanic laws,
And fools and soplísts know alike their cause.
E'en the rude fables of our rugged climes,
The dark materials of old Runic rhymes,
Though nicely spun by cabalistic wit,
Each winding maze of modern creeds to fit,
Have now their fierce terrific charms resign'd,
Nor dare affail the unletter'd peasant's mind.
No more he sees the pale and wandering sprite
Glide through the filent horrors of the night ;
Nor hears the hoarse ill-boding goblin roar
Along the wintry torrents troubled fhore,
No demon now the enchanter's voice obeys,
To guard the forest, or the storm to raise;
To bid false hopes foul deeds of blood excite,
Qr panic fears turn conquering chiefs to flight.
No guardian angels now from heaven 'defcend,
The Almighty's thield o'er virtue to extend;
To heal thie wounded, and prote&t the brave;
And valour, prefs'd by mightier foes, to fave.
No fairies now, or dapper elves are seen,
By Fancy's eye, light-tripping o'er the green :
No more on vehicles of thoug it they ride,
The waking phantoms of the brain to guide;
Or, wafted on the moon's mysterious beams,
Lead the light progeny of fleeting dreams,
Thus, of ideal images bereft,
The Muse's humbler task is only left,
Dry fact and solid argument to strew
With flowers refresh'd in Heliconian dew;
And the light flow of narrative to trace
With just expreffion, and with easy grace.
DESCRIPTION of the PALACE of AMBITION, and of the Flexds who
[From Joan of Arc, an Epic Poem, by ROBERT SOUTH!)
A More wild and complete
and desolate, than where
The white bear drifting on a field of ice
Howls to her funder'd cubs with piteous rage
And savage agony. Mid the drear scene
A craggy mass uprear'd its misty brow,
Untouch'd by breath of spring, unwont to know
Red fummer's intuence, or the chearful face
Of autumn; yet its fragments many and huge
Astounded ocean with the dreadful dance
Of whirlpools numberless, absorbing of
The blameless fiber at his perilous toil.
Upon the topmoft height the maiden law
A meteor-lighted rome: to every blast
Shook the wide fabric, tottering as to fall,
For ever tottering, round the tempests yellid
Tremendous, music hoarse! yet to the ear
Of him who there had rule, the Dynast stern,
Not undelightful. His perturbed flight
Anxious and gloomy, weeding hitherwards,
She saw the dirk-wing'd Mape: with all its towers.
The palace nods': such was Ambițion's voice !
Obedient first, fierce servant of fierce lord,