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ANALYSIS OF PART I.
The poem opens with a comparison between the beauty of remote objects in a landscape, and those ideal scenes of felicity which the imagination delights to contemplate--the influence of anticipation upon the other passions is next delineated-an allusion is made to the well known fiction in pagan tradition, that, when all the guardian deities of mankind abandoned the world, Hope alone was left behind-the consolations of this passion in situations of danger and distress—the seaman on his midnight watch—the soldier marching into battle-allusion to the interesting adventures of Byron.
The inspiration of Hope, as it actuates the efforts of genius, whether in the department of science or of taste-domestic felicity, how intimely connected with views of future happiness—picture of a mother watching her infant when asleep pictures of the prisoner, the maniac, and the wanderer.
From the consolations of individual misery, a transition is made to prospects of political improvement in the future state of society—the wide field that is yet open for the progress of humanizing arts among uncivilized nations from these views of amelioration of society, and the extension of liberty and truth over despotic and barbarous countries, by melancholy contrast of ideas we are led to reflect upon the hard fate of a brave people, recently conspicuous in their struggles for independence- description of the capture of Warsaw, of the last contest of the oppressors and the oppressed, and the massacre of the Polish patriots at the bridge of Prague-apostrophe to the sell-interested enemies of human improvement-the wrongs of Africa—the barbarous policy of Europeans in India-prophery in the Hindoo mythology of the expected descent of the Deity, to redress the miseries of their race, and to take vengeance on the violators of justice and mercy.
PLEASURES OF HOPE.
At summer eve, when Heav'n's aerial bow
Thus, with delight, we linger to survey
What potent spirit guides the raptured eye
With thee, sweet Hope ! resides the heavenly light,
Wak’d by thy touch, I see the sister band,
Primeval Hope, the Aonian Muses say,
form of death, and every wo,
Thus, while Elijah's burning wheels prepare From Carmel's height to sweep the fields of air, The Prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropped on the world—a sacred gift to man.
Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every Won by their sweets, in nature's languid hour The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower; There, as the wild-bee murmurs on the wing, What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring! What viewless forms th' Æolian organ play, And sweep
the furrow'd lines of anxious thought away
Angel of life ! thy glittering wings explore Earth's loneliest bounds, and ocean's 'wildest shore. Lo! to the wint'ry winds the pilot yields His bark careering o'er unfathomed fields ; Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar, Where Andes, giant of the western star,
With meteor standard to the winds unfurled,
Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles, On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles : Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow, From wastes that slumber in eternal snow; And waft, across the waves' tumultuous roar, The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore.
Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shatter'd bark delay; Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.
But Hope can here her moonlight vigils keep, And sing to charm the spirit of the deep. Swift as yon streamer lights the starry pole, Her visions warm the watchman's pensive soul : His native hills that rise in happier climes, The grot that heard his song of other times, His cottage-home, his bark of slender sail, His glassy lake, and broomwood-blossomed vale, Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind, Treads the loved shore he sighed to leave behind ; . Meets at each step a friend's familiar face, And flies at last to Helen's long embrace ; Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear, And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear! While, long neglected, but at length caressed, His faithful dog salutes the smiling guests Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam) His wistful face, and whines a welcome home.
Friend of the bravet in peril's darkest hour Intrepid Virtue looks to thee for power;.
To thee the beart its trembling homage yields,
And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore
Congenial Hope! thy passion-kindling power, How bright, how strong, in youth's untroubled hour On yon proud height, with Genius hand in hand, I see thee light, and wave thy golden wand.