« 上一頁繼續 »
Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd | Hard by yon wood, now smiling, as in scorn,
Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove;
Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree:
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he:
Slow thro' the church-yard path we saw him
The place of fame and elegy supply:
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate.
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn ;
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that bubbles by.
ODE ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT,
DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES.
WAS on a lofty vase's side,
Gaz'd on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
Her coat that with the tortoise vies,
She saw, and purr'd applause.
The Genii of the stream:
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,
A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown;
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heav'n did a recompence as largely send:
He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd)
Nor farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
The hapless nymph with wonder saw :
She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize:
What cat's averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Nor knew the gulph between :
She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood,
No Dolphin came, nor Nereid stirr'd;
From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd,
Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes,
ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE.
YE distant spires, ye antique tow'rs,
And ye, that from the stately brow
Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below
Ah happy hills! ah pleasing shade!
Ah fields belov'd in vain!
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales that from you blow
A momentary bliss bestow ;
As, waving fresh their gladsome wing,
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flow'rs among Ah, shew them where in ambush stand,
To seize their prey, the murd'rous band!
Say, father Thames, for thou hast seen
To chase the rolling circle's speed,
While some on earnest business bent
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,
Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed,
Alas! regardless of their doom,
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to day:
Yet see, how all around 'em wait
These shall the fury passions tear,
Or pining love shall waste their youth,
The stings of falsehood those shall try,
Lo! in the vale of years, beneath,
The painful family of Death,
More hideous than their queen:
That ev'ry labouring sinew strains,
To each his suff'rings: all are men,
Yet, ah! why should they know their fate?
THE BARD.-A PINDARIC ODE.
RUIN seize thee, ruthless king! 'Confusion on thy banners wait! 'Tho' faun'd by conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state! Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor even thy virtues, tyrant, shall avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, 'From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!'
Snch were the sounds that o'er the crested pride
On a rock whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Rob'd in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air); And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. 'Hark, how each giant-oak and desert cave
Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! 'O'er thee, O king! their hundred arms they wave, 'Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe; "Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day,
To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's
'On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale; "Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail : "The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. 'Dear lost companions of my tuneful art,
Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes, 'Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries"No more I weep. They do not sleep. 'On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, 'I see them sit: they linger yet, ** Avengers of their native land:
With me in dreadful barmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line,'
"Fill high the sparkling bowl,
"The rich repast prepare,
"Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: "Close by the regal chair
"Fell thirst and famine scowl
"A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. "Heard ye the din of battle bray,
"Lance to lance, and horse to horse?
Long years of havoc urge their destin'd course, [way. "And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their "Ye tow'rs of Julius, London's lasting shame, "With many a foul and midnight murder fel, "Revere his consort's faith, his father's fame, "And spare the meek usurper's holy head. "Above, below, the rose of snow, "Twin'd with her blushing foe we spread; "The bristled boar in infant gore "Willows beneath the thorny shade. "Now, brothers, bending o'er th' accursed loom, [doom. "Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his
"Edward, io! to sudden fate
"(Weave we the woof. The thread is spun.) "Half of thy heart we consecrate. "The web is wore. The work is done.") Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn,
'Leave me unblest, unpit.ed, here to mourn : In you bright track that fires the western skies, They meit, they vanish from my eyes [height
'Bat oh! what solema scenes on Snowdon's Descending slow their glittring skirts unroll? "Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! 'Ye uuborn ages, crowd not on my soul! 'No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail.[hail! All-hail, ye genuine kings, Britannia's issue,
'Bright rapture calls, and, soaring as she siugs,
Waves in the eye of Heaven ber manycolour'd wings.
Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch-
Beside some water's rushy brink
Still is the toiling hand of care;
· The verse adoru again 'Fierce war, and faithful love, And truth severe, by fairy fiction dress'd. In buskin'd measures move
Pale grief, and pleasing Pain. With horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast 'A voice, as of the cherub-choir, 'Gales from blooming Eden bear;
And distant warblings lessen on my ear, That lost in long futurity expire.
'Foud impious man! think'st thou yon sanguine cloud, [day! Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of To morrow he repairs the golden flood,
And warms the nations with redoubled ray.
Enough for me with joy i see
ODE ON THE SPRING.
'The different doom our fates assign. 'Be thine despair, and sceptred care: To triumph, and to die, are mine.'
He spoke; and, headlong from the mountains height, [night. Deep in the roaring tide he plung'd to endless
THE PROGRESS OF POESY.-A PINDARIC ODE.
AWAKE, Eolian lyre, awake,
Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry,
And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. || He gives to range the dreary sky :
Now the rich stream of music winds along,
O sovereign of the willing soul,
Parent of sweet and solemu-breathing airs,
And frantic passions hear thy soft controul.
Has curb'd the fury of his car,
And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command.
Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king
Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay,
Man's feeble race what ills await!
Say, has he given in vain the heavenly muse?
In climes beyond the solar road,
The muse has broke the twilight gloom,
She deigns to bear the savage youth repeat,
Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep;
Thee the voice, the dance obey,
Temper'd to thy warbled lay.
O'er Idalia's velvet green
The rosy-crowned loves are seen
With antic sports, and blue-eyed pleasures,
How do your tuneful echoes languish!
Slow melting strains their Queen's approach They sought, O Albion! next thy sea encircled
Her track, where'er the goddess roves,
Far from the sun and summer gale,
In thy green lap was Nature's darling laid,
Thine too these golden keys, immortal boy!
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic