Share in my suff'rings, and return my sighs? --O bitter unsurmountable distress! Lo! on thy breast is Ariana bow'd, Hangs o'er thy face, unites her cheek to thine, Not now to listen with enchanted ears To thy persuasive eloquence, no more Charm'd with the wisdom of thy copious
She could no more: invincible despair Suppress'd her utt'rance. As a marble form Fix'd on the solemn sepulchre, unmov'd, O'er some dead hero, whom his country lov'd, Bends down the head with imitated woe; So paus'd the princess o'er the breathless clay, Intrane'd in sorrow. On the dreary wound, Where Dithyrambus'sword was deepest plung'd, Mute for a space and motionless she gaz'd; Then with a look unchang'd, nor trembling hand,
Drew forth a poniard, with her garment veil'd, And, sheathing in her heart th' abhorred steel, On her slain lover silent sinks in death.
Porsenna there without a rival stood, And would maintain his right of doing good. Nor did his person less attraction wear, Such majesty and sweetness mingled there; Heaven with uncommon art the clay refin'd, A proper mansion for so fair a mind; Each look, each action, bore peculiar grace, And love itself was painted on his face. In peaceful time he suffer'd not his mind To rust in sloth, tho' much to peace inclin'd; Nor wanton in the lap of pleasure lay, And lost to glory loiter'd life away; But active rising ere the prime of day, Thro' woods and lonely deserts lov'd to stray; With hounds and horns to wake the furious bear,
Or rouse the tawny lion from his lair; To rid the forest of the savage brood, And whet his courage for his country's good.
One day, as he pursu'd the dangerous sport, Attended by the nobles of his court, It chanc'd a beast of more than common speed Sprang from the brake, and thro' the forest fled. The ardent prince impetuous as the wind
§ 129. The History of Porsenna, King of Rush'd on, and left his lagging train behind :
IN Russia's frozen clime, some ages since, There dwelt, historians say, a worthy prince, Who to his people's good confin'd his care, And fix'd the basis of his empire there; Enlarg'd their trade, the liberal arts im- prov'd,
Made nations happy and himself belov'd; To all the neighbouring states a terror grown, The dear delight and glory of his own. Not like those kings who vainly seek renown From countries ruin'd, and from battles won; Those mighty Nimrods, who mean laws de- spise,
Call murder but a princely exercise;
And if one bloodless sun should steal away, Cry out with Titus they have lost a day. Who to be more than men, themselves de-
Beneath the brute, their Maker's form deface, Raising their titles by their God's disgrace. Like fame to bold Erostratus we give, Who scorn'd by less than sacrilege to live; On holy ruins rais'd a lasting name, And in the temple's fire diffus'd his shame. Far different praises and a brighter fame, The virtues of the young Porsenna claim; For by that name the Russian king was known, And sure a nobler ne'er adorn'd a throne: In war he knew the deathful sword to wield, And sought the thickest dangers of the field; A bold commander, but the storm o'erflown, He seem'd as he were made for peace alone; Then was the golden age again restor'd, Nor less his justice honor'd than his sword. All needless pomp, and outward grandeur spar'd,
The deeds that grac'd him were his only guard. No private views beneath a borrow'd name, His and the public interest were the same. In wealth and pleasure let the subject live, But virtue is the king's prerogative.
Fir'd with the chace, and full of youthful
[rode, O'er plains and vales, and woodland wilds he Urging his courser's speed, nor thought the day Now wasted, nor how intricate the way; Nor till the night in dusky clouds came on, Restrain'd his pace, or found himself alone. Missing his train, he strove to measure back, The road he came, but could not find the track;
Still turning to the place he left before, And only lab'ring to be lost the more, The bugle-horn, which o'er his shoulders hung, So loud he winded, that the forest rung; In vain, no voice but echo from the ground, And vocal woods made mock'ry of the sound. And now the gath'ring clouds began to spread
O'er the dun face of night a deeper shade, And the hoarse thunder growling from afar, With herald voice proclaim'd th' approaching
Silence a while ensued,-then by degrees A hollow wind came mutt'ring thro' the trees. Sudden the full-fraught sky discharg'd its store Of rain and rattling hail a mingled shower; The active lightning ran along the ground, The fiery bolts by fits were hurl'd around, And the wide forests trembled at the sound. Amazement seiz'd the prince, where could he Aly,
No guide to lead, no friendly cottage nigh? Pensive and unresolv'd a while he stood, Beneath the scanty covert of the wood; But drove from hence, soon sallied forth again As chance directed on the dreary plain; Constrain'd his melancholy way to take Thro' many a loathsome bog, and thorny brake, Caught in the thicket, flound'ring in the lake, Wet with the storm, and wearied with the way,
By hunger pinch'd, himself to beasts a prey;
Nor wine to cheer his heart, nor fire to burn, Nor place to rest, nor prospect to return; Drooping and spiritless, at life's despair, He bade it pass, not worth his farther care; When suddenly be spied a distant light, That faintly twinkled thro' the gloom of night, And his heart leapt for joy, and bless'd the wel- come sight,
Oft times he doubted, it appear'd so far, And hung so high, 'twas nothing but a star, Or kindling vapor wand'ring through the sky; But still press'd on his steed, still kept it in his
Till much fatigue and many dangers past, At a huge mountain he arriv'd at last. There lighting from his horse, on hands and knees
Grop'd out the darksome road by slow degrees, Crawling or clamb'ring o'er the rugged way, The thunder rolls above, the flames around him play.
Joyful at length he gain'd the steepy height, And found the rift whence sprang the friendly light;
And here he stopp'd to rest his wearied feet, And weigh the perils he had still to meet; Unsheath'd his trusty sword, and dealt his eyes With caution round him, to prevent surprise; Then summon'd all the forces of his mind, And ent'ring boldly cast his fears behind: Resolv'd to push his way, whate'er withstood, Or bravely perish as a monarch should.
While he the wonders of the place survey'd, And through the various cells at random stray'd, In a dark corner of the cave he view'd Somewhat that in the shape of woman stood; But more deform'd, than dreams can represent The midnight hag, or poet's fancy paint The Lapland witch, when she her broom be- strides,
And scatters storms and tempests as she rides. She look'd as nature made her to disgrace Her kind, and cast a blot on all the race; Her shrivel'd skin with yellow spots besmear'd Like mouldy records seem'd, her eyes were blear'd;
Her feeble limbs with age and palsy shook, Bent was her body, haggard was her look. From the dark nook outcrept the filthy crone, And propt upon her crutch, came tott'ring on. The prince in civil guise approach'd the dame,
Told her his piteous case, and whence he came, And till Aurora should the shades expel, Implor'd a lodging in her friendly cell. Mortal, whoe'er thou art, the fiend began, And as she spake a deadly horror ran Thro' all his frame; his cheeks the blood for- sook,
Chatter'd his teeth, his knees together shook: Whoe'er thou art, that with presumption rude Dar'st on our sacred privacy intrude, And without licence in our court appear, Know, thou'rt the first that ever enter'd here. But since thou plead'st excuse, thou'rt hither brought
More by thy fortune than thy own default;
Thy crime, tho' great, an easy pardon finds, For mercy ever dwells in royal minds. And would you learn from whose indulgent hand
You live, and in whose awful presence stand; Know farther, thro' yon wide extended plains, Great Eolus, the king of tempests, reigns, And in this lofty palace makes abode, Well suited to his state, and worthy of the god. The various elements his empire own, And pay their humble homage at his throne; And hither all the storms and clouds resort, Proud to increase the splendor of his court. His queen am I, from whom the beauteous race Of Winds arose, sweet fruit of our embrace! She scarce had ended, when with wild uproar, And horrid din, her sons impetuous pour Around the cave; came rushing in amain, Lybs, Eurus, Boreas, all the boist'rous train; And close behind them on a whirlwind rode In clouded majesty the blust'ring god. Their locks a thousand ways were blown about, Their cheeks, like full-blown bladders, strutted [done,
Their boasting talk was of the feats th' had Of trees uprooted, and of towns o'erthrown; And when they kindly turn'd them to accost The prince, they almost pierc'd him with their frost.
The gaping hag in fix'd attention stood, And at the close of every tale cried-Good! Blessing, with outstretch'd arms, each darling
In due proportion to the mischief done. And where, says she, does little Zephyr stray? Know ye, my sons, your brother's route to day In what bold deeds does he his hours employ? Grant heaven no evil has befall'n my boy; Ne'er was he known to linger thus before. Scarce had she spoke, when at the cavern door Came lightly tripping, in a form more fair Than the young poet's fond ideas are, When, fir'd with love, he tries his utmost art To paint the beauteous tyrant of his heart. A satin vest his slender shape confin'd, Embroider'd o'er with flowers of every kind, Flora's own work, when first the goddess
To win the little wanderer to her love. Of burnish'd silver were his sandals made, Silver his buskins, and with gems o'erlaid; A saffron-color'd robe behind him flow'd, And added grace and grandeur as he trod, His wings than lilies whiter to behold, Sprinkled with azure spots, and streak'd with gold;
So thin their form, and of so light a kind, That they for ever danc'd, and flutter'd in the wind.
Around his temples, with becoming air, In wanton ringlets curl'd his auburn hair, And o'er his shoulders negligently spread, A wreath of fragrant roses crown'd his head.
Such his attire, but O! no pen can trace, No words can show the beauties of his face; So kind! so winning! so divinely fair, Eternal youth and pleasure flourish there;
There all the little loves and graces meet, And every thing that's soft, and every thing that's sweet.
Thou vagrant, cried the dame, in angry tone, Where couldst thou loiter thus, so long alone? Little thou car'st what anxious thoughts molest, What pangs are laboring in a mother's breast; Well do you show your duty by your haste, For thou of all my sons art always last.
A child less fondled would have fled more fast. Sure 'tis a curse on mothers, doom'd to mourn, Where best they love, the least and worst
My dear mamma, the gentle youth reply'd, And made a low obeisance, cease to chide; Nor wound me with your words, for well you know
Your Zephyr bears a part in all your woe. How great must be his sorrow then to learn That he himself's the cause of your concern! Nor had I loiter'd thus, had I been free, But the fair Princess of Felicity Entreated me to make some short delay, And ask'd by her, could I refuse to stay? Surrounded by the damsels of her court, She sought the shady grove, her lov'd resort; Fresh rose the grass, the flowers were mix'd
On a cool mossy couch she laid her down; Her air, her posture, all conspir'd to please, Her head upon her snowy arm at ease Reclin'd, a studied carelessness express'd; Loose lay her robe, and naked heav'd her breast.
Eager I flew to that delightful place, And pour'd a shower of kisses on her face; Now hover'd o'er her neck, her breast, her arms, Like bees o'er flowers, and tasted all their charms:
And then her lips, and then her cheeks I tried, And fann'd, and wanton'd round on ev'ry side.
O Zephyr! cried the fair, thou charming boy, Thy presence only can create me joy; To me thou art beyond expression dear, Nor can I quit the place while thou art
Excuse my weakness, madam, when I swear Such gentle words, join'd with so soft an air, Pronounc'd so sweetly from a mouth to fair, Quite ravish'd all my sense, nor did I know How long I stay'd, or when, or where to go. Meanwhile the damsels, debonair and gay, Prattled around, and laugh'd the time away: These in soft notes address'd the ravish'd ear, And warbled out so sweet,'twas heaven to hear; And those in rings, beneath the green-wood shade,
Dane'd to the melody their fellows made;
O gentle youth, he cried, proceed to tell In what fair country does this princess dwell; What regions unexplor'd, what hidden coast, Can so much goodness, so much beauty boast? To whom the winged god, with gracious look, Numberless sweets diffusing while he spoke, Thus answer'd kind: These happy gardens lie Far hence remov'd, beneath a milder sky; Their name-the Kingdom of Felicity. Sweet scenes of endless bliss, enchanted ground, A soil for ever sought, but seldom found; Though in the search all human kind in vain Weary their wits, and waste their lives in pain; In different parties, different paths they tread, As reason guides them, or as follies lead; [see, These wrangling for the place they ne'er shall Debating those, if such a place there be; But not the wisest or the best can say Where lies the point, or mark the certain way.
Some few, by Fortune favor'd, for her sport, Have sail'd in sight of this delightful port; In thought already seiz'd the bless'd abodes, And in their fond delirium rank'd with gods. Fruitless attempt! all avenues are kept By dreadful foes, sentry that never slept. Here fell Detraction darts her pois'nous breath, Fraught with a thousand stings, and scatters death;
Short-sighted Envy there maintains her post, And shakes her flaming brand, and stalks around the coast;
These on the helpless crowd their fury pour, Plunge in the waves, or dash against the shore, Teach wretched mortals they were doom'd to
Say, would you choose to visit this retreat, And view the world where all these wonders meet?
Wish you some friend o'er the tempestuous sea To bear you safe? behold that friend in me. My active wings shall all their force employ, And nimbly waft you to the realms of joy, As once, to gratify the god of love,
I bore fair Psyche to the Cyprian grove;
Or as Jove's bird, descending from on high, Snatch'd the young Trojan trembling to the sky;
There perfect bliss thou mayst for ever share, 'Scap'd from the busy world, and all its care; There in the lovely princess thou wilt find A mistress ever blooming, ever kind. All ecstasy, on air Porsenna trod, And to his bosom strain'd the little god; With grateful sentiments his heart o'erflow'd, And in the warmest words, millions of thanks bestow'd.
When Eolus in surly humor broke Their strict embrace, and thus abruptly spoke: Enough of compliment, I hate the sport Of meanless words: this is no human court; Where plain and honest are discarded quite, For the more modish title of polite; Where in soft speeches hypocrites impart The venom'd ills that lurk beneath the heart; In friendship's holy guise their guilt improve, And kindly kill with specious show of love. For us-my subjects are not us'd to wait, And waste their hours to hear a mortal prate; They must abroad before the rising sun, And hie 'em to the seas: there's mischief to be done.
Excuse my plainness, sir, but business stands, And we have storms and shipwrecks on our hands.
He ended frowning, and the noisy rout Each to his several cell went passing out; But Zephyr, far more courteous than the rest, To his own bower convey'd the royal guest; There on a bed of roses neatly laid, Beneath the fragrance of a myrtle shade, His limbs to needful rest the prince applied, His sweet companion slumb'ring by his side.
No sooner in her silver chariot rose The ruddy Morn, than, sated with repose, The prince address'd his host; the god awoke, And leaping from his couch, thus kindly spoke: This early call, my lord, that chides my stay Requires my thanks, and I with joy obey; Like you I long to reach the blissful coast, Hate the slow night, and mourn the moments lost.
The bright Rosinda, loveliest of the fair That crowd the princess' court, demands my
E'en now with fears and jealousies o'erborn, Upbraids and call me cruel and forsworn; What sweet rewards on all my toils attend, Serving at once my mistress and my friend! Just to my love and to my duty too, Well paid in her, well pleas'd in pleasing you. This said, he led him to the cavern gate, And clasp'd him in his arms, and pois'd his weight:
Then balancing his body here and there, Stretch'd forth his agile wings, and launch'd in air;
Swift as the fiery meteor from on high
Here with quick fan his lab'ring pinions play, There glide at ease along the liquid way; Now lightly skim the plain with even flight, Now proudly soar above the mountain's height. Spiteful Detraction, whose envenom'd hate Sports with the suffering of the good and great,
Spares not our prince, but with opprobrious
Arraigns him of the heinous sin of fear; That he, so tried in arms, whose very name Infus'd a secret panic where it came; E'en he, as high above the clouds he flew, And spied the mountain less'ning to the view; Nought round him but the wide expanded air,
Helpless, abandon'd to a stripling's care; Struck with the rapid whirl, and dreadful height,
Confess'd some faint alarm, some little fright. The friendly god, who instantly divin'd The terrors that possess'd his fellow's mind, To calm his troubled thoughts, and cheat the way,
Describ'd the nations that beneath them lay; The name, the climate, and the soil's increase, Their arms in war, their government in peace; Show'd their domestic arts, their foreign trade, What int'rest they pursu'd, what leagues they made.
The sweet discourse so charm'd Porsenna's ear, That, lost in joy, he had no time for fear. From Scandinavia's cold inclement waste, O'er wide Germania's various realms they
And now on Albion's fields suspend their toil, And hover for a while, and bless the soil. O'er the gay scene the prince delighted hung, And gaz'd in rapture, and forgot his tongue; Till bursting forth at length, Behold, cried he, The promis'd isle, the land I long'd to see; Those plains, those vales, and fruitful hills de- clare
My queen, my charmer must inhabit there. Thus rav'd the monarch, and the gentle guide, Pleas'd with his error, thus in smiles replied: I must applaud, my lord, the lucky thought, E'en I, who know th' original, am caught, And doubt my senses, when I view the draught. The slow-ascending hill, the lofty wood That mantles o'er its brow; the silver flood, Wand'ring in mazes through the flow'ry mead; The herd that in the plenteous pastures feed; And every object, every scene excites
Fresh wonder in my soul, and fills with new delights:
Dwells cheerful Plenty there, and learned Ease, And art with nature seems at strife to please, There Liberty, delightful goddess, reigns, Gladdens each heart, and gilds the fertile plains;
There firmly seated may she ever smile, And show'r her blessings o'er her fav'rite isle. But see, the rising sun reproves our stay, He said, and to the ocean wing'd his way; Stretching his course to climates then unknown,
Shoots to its goal, and gleams athwart the sky. Nations that swelter in the burning zone;
There in Peruvian vales a moment staid, And smooth'd his wings beneath the citron shade.
Then swift his oary pinions plied again, Cross'd the new world, and sought the southern main;
Where many a wet and weary league o'erpast, The wish-for paradise appear'd at last.
With force abated, now they gently sweep O'er the smooth surface of the shining deep; The Dryads hail'd them from the distant shore, The Nereids play'd around, the Tritons swam before;
While soft Favonius their arrival greets, And breathes his welcome in a thousand sweets. Nor pale Disease, nor health-consuming Care, Nor Wrath, nor foul Revenge, can enter there: No vapor's foggy gloom imbrowns the sky, No tempests rage, no angry lightnings fly; But dews and soft refreshing airs are found, And pure etherial azure shines around. Whate'er the sweet Sabæan Isle can boast, Or Mecca's plains, or India's spicy coast; What Hybla hills, or rich balia's fields, Or flow'ry vale of fam'd Hymettus yields; Or what of old th' Hesperian orchard grac'd, All that was e'er delicious to the taste, Sweet to the smell, or lovely to the view, Collected there, with added beauty grew. High-tow'ring to the heavens, the trees are seen, Their bulk immense, their leaf for ever green; So closely interwove, the tell-tale sun
Can ne'er descry the deeds beneath them done, But where by fits the sportive gales divide Their tender tops, and fan the leaves aside. Like a smooth carpet at their feet lies spread The matted grass, by bubbling fountains fed; And on each bough the feather'd choir employ Their melting notes, and nought is heard but joy.
The painted flow'rs exhale a rich perfume, The fruits are mingled with eternal bloom; And Spring and Autumn hand in hand appear, Lead on the merry months, and join to clothe the year. [pour'd, Here, o'er the mountain's shaggy summits From rock to rock the tumbling torrent roar'd; While beauteous Iris, in the vale below, Paints on the rising fumes her radiant bow: Now thro' the meads the mazy current stray'd, Now hid its wand'rings in the myrtle shade; Or in a thousand veins divides its store, Visits each plant, refreshes every flow'r; O'er gems and golden sands in murmurs flows, And sweetly soothes the soul, and lulls to soft repose.
If hunger call, no sooner can the mind Express her will to needful food inclin'd, But in some cool recess, or op'ning glade, The seats are plac'd, the tables neatly laid, And instantly convey'd by magic hand, In comely rows the costly dishes stand; Meats of all kinds that nature can impart, Prepar'd in all the nicest forms of art. A troop of sprightly nymphs array'd in green, With How'ry chaplets crown'd, come scudding
With fragrant blossoms these adorn the breast Those with officious zeal attend the guest; Beneath his feet the silken carpet spread, Or sprinkle liquid odors o'er his head. Others in ruby cups, with roses bound Delightful! deal the sparkling nectar round; Or weave the dance, or tune the vocal lay; The lyres resound, the merry minstrels play: Gay health, and youthful joys o'erspread the place, [face. And swell each heart, and triumph in each So when embolden'd by the vernal air, The busy bees to blooming fields repair; For various use employ their chymic pow'r; One culls the snowy pounce, one sucks the flow'r :
Again to diff'rent works returning home, Some steeve the honey, some erect the comb;} All for the general good in concert strive, And every soul's in motion, every limb's alive.
And now descending from his flight, the god On the green turf releas'd his precious load; There, after mutual salutations past, And endless friendship vow'd, they part in haste;
Zephyr impatient to behold his love, [grove, The prince in raptures wand'ring through the Now skipping on, and singing as he went, Now stopping short, to give his transports vent, With sudden gusts of happiness oppress'd, Or stands intranc'd, or raves like one possess'd; His mind afloat, his wand'ring senses quite O'ercome with charms, and frantic with de- light;
From scene to scene by random steps convey'd, Admires the distant views, explores the secret shade,
Dwells on each spot, with eager eye devours The woods, the lawns, the buildings, and the bow'rs;
New sweets, new joys at ev'ry glance arise, And every turn creates a fresh surprise. Close by the borders of a rising wood, In a green vale a crystal grotto stood, And o'er its sides, beneath a beechen shade, In broken falls a silver fountain play'd. Hither, attracted by the murmuring stream, And cool recess, the pleas'd Porsenna came, And on the tender grass reclining chose To wave his joys a while, and take a short re- pose.
The scene invites him, and the wanton breeze That whispers thro' the vale, the dancing trees, The warbling birds, and rills that gently creep, All join their music to prolong his sleep.
The princess to her morning walk prepar'd; The female troops attend, a beauteous guard. Array'd in all her charms appear'd the fair; Tall was her stature, unconfin'd her air; Proportion deck'd her limbs, and in her face Lay love enshrin'd, lay sweet attractive grace, Temp'ring the awful beams her eyes convey'd And like a lambent flame around her play'd. No foreign aids, by mortal ladies worn, From shells and rocks her artless charms adorn
For grant that beauty were by gems increas'd, "Tis render'd more suspected at the least;
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