ce 021 The thick-sprung reeds, which watery marshes yield, The spreading oak, the beech, and towering pine, The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends, And journeys sad beneath the dropping trees: And woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear. The birds, dismiss'd, (while you remain,) What phrenzy in my bosom rag'd, Though now he shuns thy longing arms, Though now he freeze, he soon shall burn, Celestial visitant, once more A HYMN TO VENUS, FROM THE GREEK OF SAPPHO. O VENUS, beauty of the skies, If ever thou hast kindly heard Thou once didst leave almighty Jove, And all the golden roofs above: The car thy wanton sparrows drew; Hovering in air they lightly flew ; As to my bower they wing'd their way, I saw their quivering pinions play. A FRAGMENT OF SAPPHO. 'Twas this deprived my soul of rest, My bosom glow'd; the subtle flame In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd, WILLIAM COLLINS. WILLIAM COLLINS, a distinguished modern poet, of disorder in his mind, perceptible to any but him self. He was reading the New Testament. "I have but one book," said he, "but it is the best." He was finally consigned to the care of his sister, in whose arms he finished his short and melancholy course, in the year 1756. shall was born at Chichester, in 1720 or 1721, where his father exercised the trade of a hatter. He received his education at Winchester College, whence he entered as a commoner of Queen's College, Oxford. In 1741, he procured his election into Magdalen college as a demy; and it was here that he wrote It is from his Odes, that Collins derives his chief his poetical" Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer," poetical fame; and in compensation for the neglect and his "Oriental Eclogues;" of both which with which they were treated at their first appear. pieces the success was but moderate. In 1744, he ance, they are now almost universally regarded as came to London as a literary adventurer, and va- the first productions of the kind in our language rious were the projects which he formed in this with respect to vigour of conception, boldness and capacity. In 1746, however, he ventured to lay variety of personification, and genuine warmth of before the public a volume of " Odes, Descriptive feeling. They are well characterised in an essay and Allegorical;" but so callous was the national prefixed to his works in an ornamented edition pub taste at this time, that their sale did not pay for the lished by Cadell and Davies, with which we printing. Collins, whose spirit was high, returned conclude this article. "He will be acknowledged to the bookseller his copy-money, burnt all the un- (says the author) to possess imagination, sweetness, sold copies, and as soon as it lay in his power, in- bold and figurative language. His numbers dwell demnified him for his small loss; yet among these on the ear, and easily fix themselves in the memory. odes, were many pieces which now rank among the His vein of sentiment is by turns tender and lofty, finest lyric compositions in the language. After always tinged with a degree of melancholy, but not this mortification, he obtained from the booksellers possessing any claim to originality. His originality a small sum for an intended translation of Aristotle's consists in his manner, in the highly figurative garb Poetics, and paid a visit to an uncle, Lieutenant-in which he clothes abstract ideas, in the felicity of colonel Martin, then with the army in Germany. his expressions, and his skill in embodying idea! The Colonel dying soon after, left Collins a legacy of 20001., a sum which raised him to temporary opulence; but he now soon became incapable of every mental exertion. Dreadful depression of spirits was an occasional attendant on his malady, for which he had no remedy but the bottle. It was about this time, that it was thought proper to confine him in a receptacle of lunatics. Dr. Johnson paid him a visit at Islington, when there was nothing creations. He had much of the mysticism of poetry, and sometimes became obscure by aiming at impressions stronger than he had clear and well-defined ideas to support. Had his life been prolonged, and with life had he enjoyed that ease which is necessary for the undisturbed exercise of the faculties, hr would probably have risen far above most of his contemporaries." Come, Pity, come, by Fancy's aid, Its southern site, its truth complete, There Picture's toil shall well relate, The buskin'd Muse shall near her stand, There let me oft, retir'd by day, There waste the mournful lamp of night, To hear a British shell! ODE TO FEAR. THOU, to whom the world unknown With all its shadowy shapes is shown; Who seest appall'd th' unreal scene, While Fancy lifts the veil between : Ah, Fear! ah, frantic Fear! I see, I see thee near. know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye! ike thee I start, like thee disorder'd fly. or, lo, what monsters in thy train appear! Danger, whose limbs of giant mould What mortal eye can fixt behold? Who stalks his round, a hideous form, lowling amidst the midnight storm, Or throws him on the ridgy steep f some loose hanging rock to sleep : nd with him thousand phantoms join'd, 'ho prompt to deeds accurs'd the mind: nd those, the fiends, who, near allied, 'er Nature's wounds and wrecks preside; 'hile Vengeance, in the lurid air, ifts her red arm, expos'd and bare : a whom that ravening brood of Fate, ho lap the blood of Sorrow, wait; ho, Fear, this ghastly train can see, ad look not madly wild, like thee? EPODE earliest Greece, to thee, with partial choice, The grief-full Muse address'd her infant tongue; le maids and matrons, on her aweful voice, Silent and pale, in wild amazement hung. the, the bard who first invok'd thy name, Disdain'd in Marathon its power to feel: r not alone he nurs'd the poet's flame, But reach'd from Virtue's hand the patriot's steel. it who is he, whom later garlands grace, Who left awhile o'er Hybla's dews to rove, ith trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace, Where thou and furies shar'd the baleful grove? * Eschylus. Wrapt in thy cloudy veil th' incestuous queen †, Sigh'd the sad call her son and husband heard, When once alone it broke the silent scene, And he the wretch of Thebes no more appear'd. O Fear! I know thee by my throbbing heart, ANTISTROPHE. Thou who such weary lengths hast past, Where wilt thou rest, mad nymph, at last? Say, wilt thou shroud in haunted cell, Where gloomy Rape and Murder dwell? Or in some hollow'd seat, 'Gainst which the big waves beat, Hear drowning seamen's cries in tempests brought! Dark power, with shuddering meek submitted thought, Be mine, to read the visions old, Which thy awakening bards have told. And, lest thou meet my blasted view, O thou, whose spirit most possest ODE. WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1746. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod, Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By Fairy hands their knell is rung, ↑ Jocasta. Kk 4 504 ODE, TO A LADY, ON THE DEATH OF COL. CHARLES ROSS, IN THE ACTION AT FONTENOY. Written May, 1745. WHILE, lost to all his former mirth, And mourns the fatal day: While stain'd with blood he strives to tear Unseemly from his sea-green hair The wreaths of cheerful May: The thoughts which musing Pity pays, By rapid Scheld's descending wave And Peace protect the shade. O'er him, whose doom thy virtues grieve, And bend the pensive head; Shall point his lonely bed! The warlike dead of every age, Shall leave their sainted rest: Old Edward's sons, unknown to yield, And wish th' avenging fight. But, lo! where, sunk in deep despair, Ne'er shall she leave that lowly ground, If, weak to soothe, so soft an heart, Where'er from time thou court'st relief, Her gentlest promise keep : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, ODE TO LIBERTY. STROPHE. WHO shall awake the Spartan fife, At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding, Shall sing the sword, in myrtles drest, At Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing, (What place so fit to seal a deed renown'd?) Till she her brightest lightnings round revealing, It leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted wound! O goddess, in that feeling hour, E'er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears. No, Freedom, no, I will not tell, How Rome, before thy face, With heaviest sound, a giant-statue, fell, From off its wide ambitious base, When Time his northern sons of spoil awoke, And all the blended work of strength and grace With many a rude repeated stroke, [broke. And many a barbarous yell, to thousand fragments EPODE. Yet, e'en where'er the least appear'd In jealous Pisa's olive shade! See small Marino joins the theme, Or dwell in willow'd meads more near, ANTISTROPHE. Beyond the measure vast of thought, This pillar'd earth so firm and wide, By winds and inward labours torn, In thunders dread was push'd aside, * The Dutch, amongst whom there are very severe penalties for those who are convicted of killing this bird. They are kept tame in almost all their towns, and particularly at the Hague, of the arms of which they make a part. The common people of Holland are said to entertain a superstitious sentiment, that if the whole species of them should become extinct, they should lose their liberties. + This tradition is mentioned by several of our old historians. Some naturalists, too, have endeavoured to support the probability of the fact, by arguments drawn from the correspondent disposition of the two opposite coasts. I do not remember that any poetical use has been hitherto made of it. There is a tradition in the Isle of Man, that a mermaid, becoming enamoured of a young man of extraordinary beauty, took an opportunity of meeting him one day as he walked on the shore, and opened her passion to him, but was received with a coldness, occasioned by his horrour and surprise at her appearance. This, however, was so misconstrued by the sea-lady, that, in revenge for his treatment of her, she punished the whole island, by covering it with a mist, so that all who attempted to carry on any coinmerce with it, either never arrived at it, but wandered up and down the sea, or were on a sudden wrecked upon its cliffs. |