Gambar halaman

The joy the genuine Patriot feels;
Or he who wounds of Sorrow heals,
In conscious Virtue blett!

The joy to nurse the liberal Arts !
Thro’ Nature's sweets to rove!
What Science, or the Muse, imparts !
Friendthip, or wedded Love!

- For feeling minds, and judging eyes,
Fountains of bliss umnumber'a rile,
And thro' their hallow'd course refine.
- The gifts unbounded Bounty strews
'Tis more than Foily to refuse;
'Tis impious to repine !
To Youth its sports, to Age its calm,
Indulgent Heav'n bestows,
With forrow mingles comfort's balm,
And action with repose.
Disease from Sloth, or Pleasure springs,
Yet, with sedate Reflection, brings
Warm Hope, to sooth the mental itrife,
Who whispers soft to Care, or Pain,
For present loss, a future gain,
For death, immortal lite !

[ocr errors]

What to avoid, and what pursue,
Has Man no rule assign'd?
No arms, high-temper'd to subdue
“ The vultures of the mind ?"
-Oh blind to Truth ! tho' free of Will!
Thou mak’st thy own misfortunes still
Whom thy own passions still controul.
-Arm but thy will-their rage defy!
The dire Promethean terrors fly,
And leave th' unshaken soul!
Not words alone, but thoughts acquire !
And great examples know!
Till GREECE and Rome's extinguish'd fire
In Thee, revived shall glow !
-Mark, worthy of the general trust,
An Aristides, wise, and just,
To others mild, himself fevere!
To wealth unmoved--Oh glorious boast !
His funeral at the public coft,
Graced by the public tear!
Not Spain and Afric's spoils combin'd
So Scipio's worth display'd,



As when he, self-subdued, resign'd
The fair Iberian maid !
-Nor less he shone, when youth was filed;
Not all his former triumphs shed
A lovelier lustre round his name!
-Him Meditation most could please ;
In filent thought, and learned ease,
He closed a life of Fame !
To Poets, who mislead our youth,
Let gaudier wreaths belong,
Yet one again shall “ stoop to truth,
" And moralize his song."
While Heav'n decrees us here below
A mingled maze of joy and woe;
(Howe'er the plaintive Sophists moan)
Well to enjoy the prosperous hour,
Well to endure Amiation's power,
Are Wisdom's lot alone!

[ocr errors]


fpe&t to Home.”

[From a Poem under that Title]


TERE, where, descending from the sea-worn clifts

In his own heavy cloud of darkness clad,
Full oft his watery pennons Aufter lifts

And wraps the extensive isle in sudden fade,

Tho'vernal sunbeams were effus'd, to glad
Our landscapes, from Cornubia vein'd with ore

To Scotia's heaths that triumph in the plaid ;
The Briton ftill prefers his changeful fhore
To Ægypt's cloudless plains where no rude tempests roar.

Yes! o'er his acres the green barley-blade

He values more than fields of clustering rice;
And rather shapes his way thro'plashy glade

Where crackles, at each step, the sheeted ice,
Than mid gay groves of callia, that entice
The soul to pleasure, far difusing balm :

To him more dear the oak-crown'd precipice,
Than the deep verdure of date-crested palm,
Where all is lap'd in ease, one languor-breathing calm.

To him more sweet thro' afhen woods to rove,

As eddving winds the foliage round him whirl,
Than cull the blossoms of an orange-grove

Skirted by rose-tree bowers, where rivulets purl

[ocr errors][ocr errors]

Mid hasil tufts, and odorous breezes curl
The stream besprent with many a silver lote ;

White, on the smooth canal, light hips unfurl
Their sportive fails, and gently as they float,
Flutter the billing doves, and croud the neighbouring cote.
While the gay gilded mosque shines, half-conceal'd

By tamarinds and the broad-leav'd sycamore,
And, as beneath their trembling verdure veil'd,

Airs, Eden-born, delicious incenfe pour,
Softening the fervours of the summer-hour!
While rich

pomegranates bid their cooling seeds
To the parcht palate a keen sense restore,
And, round each whispering iflet of cane reeds,
Its melon's grateful pulp the tepid water feeds.
Not ivory palaces, their roofs inlaid

With mafly gold, where thrones of coral glow,
Starr'd with the gems of Ormuz; not the shade

Ambrofial, waving its peach-Howers that blow
To pearly grapes, and kiss the turf below,
The genuine son of Albion could induce

His dairy-meads, his fallows to forego:
Not all the fruits, that bloom o'er every fluice,
Would, in his mind, outvie the reditreak's vermeil juice.
Nor, if to innocence a gentle smile

Beam, placid as the May's mild morning break;
If, with a modest blush, to mark our ille,
Mantle to veins of azure the fair cheek;

Are not the charms of foreign beauty weak,
Beauty, that wantons with voluptuous air?

Can jetty ringlets that adorn the neck,
Sleek as they glisten to the funny glare,
Rival, O Albion's dames, your amber-brightening hairi

Yet pleasure views, and trembles at the gaze,

Those gloffy tresses their luxuriance spread To roseate effences; the diamond-blaze

Of many a crescent on the turban'd head,

Or the pearl-lustre as by rainbows fed ;
The full dark eye; the panting of the breast,

Through gause that seems to kindle; limbs that shed
Purpureal light by filken folds carest,
And the rich zone that checks the thin transparent vest.
See, as the rofe-lipt Almé weave the dance,

To melting airs they move, in amorous play;
Or, arch with nods and wreathed (miles, they glance
Their nimble feet to frolic measures gay :

. 1 2


The cymbal's notes to love new warmth convey:
The burning aloe breathes its fragrance round.

O'er all the light saloon with sparkling ray,
The diamond trembles to the dancer's bound,
While with fantastic mirth the dizzy roofs resound.
See glowing virgins lave the polisht limb,

What time they bid the mulky bath exhale
Its steaming odours, and along the brim

The dalliance of the loves lafcivious hail:

Or, when the clear night wafts her cooling gale, See their fine forms, as eve's last colours die,

Slow on the flower embroider'd terrace fail; While, glittering thro' its whole expanse, the sky With its deep azure shade relieves the wearied eye. Yes!-Home still charms: and he who, clad in fur,

His rapid rein-deer drives o'er plains of snow, Would rather to the same wild tracts recur,

That various life had mark'd with joy or woe,

Than wander, where the spicy breezes blow,
To kiss the hyacinths of Azza's hair

Rather, than where luxuriant summers glow,
To the white mofles of his hills repair,
And bid his antler train the simple banquet share.

All love their native spot; whether beside

Their ice-ribb'd mountains thro' a waste of night, They catch the frost-gales from the stormy tide,

And Miver to the boreal Aashes bright;

Or, if the sun vouchsafe a noonday light, Hail, from the crags, his faint-reflected beams,

And flide, o'er mouldering bridge, from height to height, Where pine, or ebony, or benreed gleams, To tioat their huge-hewn planks, along the gulphy streams : Or, whether blinded by the folar glare,

The moon-ey'd Indian amid poison’d dews Tainting the breeze, to balsam groves repair,

And Neep, tho' venom many a plant diffuse:

or whether he who journeys o'er Peru's Re-echoing caverns, leap his ore, to pave

The streets with ingots, oft as he pursues
His burthen'd beast, to where the boiling wave
Once swallow'd Lima's walls, a universal grave.

E'en now, where rages red Vesuvio's flame,

Scarce from the Auid rocks his offspring fly; Tho' cities, Itrown around, of ancient name,

The monuments of former vengeance lie.


And we have mark'd the indiffoluble tie,
By which a myriad down the yawning gloom

Descended erst, as Etna fir'd the sky-
By which a myriad that escap'd the doom,
Cling to the fulphur'd spot, and clasp their comrades' tomb,

Description of HaY-MAKING.


(From Bewey, a Poem.]
HERE see the mowers, to their half-done talk

Early returning, jocund, o'er the grass,
That yesterday they cut: with stone well-ply'd,
Bending, they whet the clear-resounding steel;
And now in order plac'd, step after step,
Slow following, with successive well-tim'd strokes,
The scythe they brandish: falling at their feet
In semicircles wide, a mingled heap
Of seedling stalks and flow'rs of various hues
In wild confusion lies, to bloom no more.
Meanwhile a num'rous train of men and boys,
And country maidens, bearing in their hands

The rural trophies, cheerfully begin
Their pleasing toil, and scatter far and wide,
With airy toss, the odoriferous hay ;
Light burden! While as now the climbing fun,
In fplendour clad, pours forth his floping rays
Stronger, the field is all a moving scene
Of gaiety and business, mirth and toil.
Many the jokes, aad frequent are the laughs,
Enlivening their labour: on the copfe
Of yonder hedge, where gay the wild-rose blooms,
Is laid the copious can, with needful store
Of liquor fillid, and cover'd from the fight
Of busy flies. Full oft the heated swain
Thither is seen to pace, and from the cup
First takes a long, deep draught: then to the fair,
Not asking, but whose warm Aufli'd cheeks betray
Her thirst, flow carrying, presents the cup
With awkward gallantry: Fatigued, the band
Awhile repose: the sun-burnt clown, robust,
Pulls on his knee his modeft-looking fair,
Pleas'd, and yet half afham'd: ah! happy he,
If from her lips he gains at last the kiss,
With many struggles won; nor is ev'n she,
Tho' her disorder'd locks with many a frown
Now the adjusts, difpleas'd at heart to lose
The fragrant prize the wilh'd not to withhold.
She seeks not to ensnare a captive train


[ocr errors]
« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »