« 上一页继续 »
Seems half emerging from his olive bow'r Upraise this wond'rous fabric? Say, was man
Attune our finer organs to the charms
This image of himself? To the tuneful breast Delightful, when the sympathetic heart
Of virtuous Wisdom, such discordant thoughts Feels for another's woes! Was any scene
Are far excluded; other themes employ
Pursues the fiery tract where comets glow;
Thus the chief scenes of Nature view'd apart, Shot wildly down; nor 'sdains he to behold
In Nature's humbler walks the sweet recess, Th' attentive mind, now thro' the tuneful whole Where Beauty on the splendid rose exults Let the swift wing of Fancy bear us on
As conscious of her form, or mildly veils
Or on the margin of the crystal brook
Of feather'd songsters breathe their vernal airs; Of light eternal, gild the vast expanse:
For him the stillness of th’autumnal grove
Of Ceres spreads its yellow pride; the horn
Of social joy; and Spring's Elysian bloom,
Whilst Plora wantons in her Zephyr's arms, How these in tuneful order " thro' the void Invites the Graces forth to join the Hours Their diff'rent stations keep, their pow'rs distinct In festive dance. His tasteful mind enjoys Observe, aud in each other's friendly sphere Alike the complicated charms, which glow Their kindest influence blend, till all unite Thro’the wide landscape, where enamell'd meads, To form the plan of the all-ruling Mind,
Unfruitfulrocks,brown woods,and glittring streams, And, thro' the whole, celestial bliss diffuse ! The daisy-laughing lawns, the verdant plains,
Hence let the worse than atheist, the fond fool And hanging mountains, strike at once the sight Who falsely dotes in superstition's gloom, With varied pleasure; as th' abstracted ray, And blindfold led by easy Faith, denies
Which soft effuses from Eudocia's eye The guide of Reason, obstinately bent
The opening dawn of love. He looks thro' all To seek the cause of universal good,
The plan of Nature with congenial love, And source of beauty in the demon's cave, Where the great social link of mutual aid And, shudd'ring, fancies he at distance bears Through ev'ry being twines, where all conspire The howls of ghosts, created to endure
To form one system of eternal good, Eternal torments. Let this impious wretch Of harmony and bliss, in forms distinct, Look round this fair creation, where, impellid Of natures various, as th'effulgent Sun, By that great Author, every atom tends
Which pours abroad the mighty flood of day, To Universal Harmony; where Joy,
To the pale glow-worm in the midnight shade. As with a parent's fondness, to behold
From these sweet meditations on the charms Her own soft image in her child impress'd, Of things external; on the genuine forms Smiles on the beauteous offspring, and illumes Which blossom in creation; on the scene Responsive signs of pleasure; like the beams Where inimic Art with emulative hue Of Titan sporting on the lucid waves
Usurps the throne of Nature unreprov'd; Whence Venus rose of old: let him then say, Or the just concord of mellifluent sounds; If Nature meant this goodly frame to cheat The soul, and all the intellectual train Deluded mortals? Did an idiot's scheme Of fond desires, gay hopes, or threat'ning fears,
Through this habitual intercourse of sense 10 The superiority of moral beauty to natural is harmoniz'd within, till all is fair has been universally allowed by all authors both And perfect; till each moral pow'r perceives ancient and modern. And that sentence of Seneca's Its own resemblance, with fraternal joy, may be understood figuratively: Nullum orna- In ev'ry form complete, and smiling feels mentum principis fastigio dignius pulchriusque beauty and Good the same'. Thus the first man Est, quam illa corona ob cives servatos. Senec. de clem. lib. 1.
12 See Plato's Dialogues, Xenophon's Memora. 41 Vile sir Isaac Newton, Book III. p. 345. bilia, &c. whom the ingenious author of the Traité
Fresh from creacion rising, in the flood
“ Taste not from fame's uncertain fountain A godlike image saw; with fixt amaze
The peace-destroying streams that ton, He gaz'd; th'attentive figure from below
Nor from ambition's daug'rous mountain Gaz'd with responsive wonder: did he smile ? Look down upon the world belov. The shad'wy features dimpled in the waves Not less delighted; till at length he found . The princely pine on hills exalted, From bis own form th' external object flow'd, Whose lofty branches cleave the sky, And mov'd to his its correspondent charms. By winds, long brav'd, at last assaulted,
Is headlong whirld in dust to lie; “Whilst the mild rose more safely growing
Low in its unaspiring vale,
Amidst retirement's shelter blowing
«Wish not for beauty's darling features
Moulded by nature's fondling pow'r, WINIFREDA. WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1758.
For fairest forms 'mong human creatures aspice vultus
Shine but the pageants of an hour. Ecce meos: utinamque oculos in pectore posses “I saw, the pride of all the meadow, Inserere, et patrias intus dependere curas.
At noon, a gay narcissus blow
Upon a river's bank, whose shadow Deep in a grove by cypress shaded,
Bloom'd in the silver waves below; Where mid-day sun had seldom shone,
“By noon-tide's heat its youth was wasted, Or noise the solemn scene invaded,
The waters, as they passid, complain'd, Save some amicted Muse's moan,
At eve its glories all were blasted,
“Nor let vain wit's deceitful glory At whose fond side a boy attending
Lead you from wisdom's path astray; Lisp'd half his father's cares away.
What genius lives renown'd in story The father's eyes no object wrested,
To happiness who found the way? But the smiling pra ler hung,
“In yonder mead behold that vapour Till, what his throbbing heart suggested,
Whose vivid beams illusive play, These accents trembled from his tongue.
Far off it seems a friendly taper “ My youth's first hope, my manhood's treasure, To guide the traveller on his way; My prattling innocent attend,
“But should some hapless wretch pursuing Nor fear rebuke or sour displeasure,
Tread where the treach'rous meteors glow, A father's loveliest name is, friend.
He'd fivd, too late his rashness rueing, " Some truths, from long experience flowing, That fatal quicksands lurk below. Worth more than royal grants receive,
“ In life such bubbles nought admiring For truths are wealth of Heav'n's bestowing,
Gilt with false light and fill'd with air, Which kings have seldom power to give.
Do you, from pageant crowds retiring, « Since from an ancient race descended
To peace in virtue's cot repair; You boast an unattainted blood,
“ There seek the never-wasted treasure, By yours be their fair fame attended,
Which mutual love and friendship give, And claiin by birth-right to be good.
Domestic comfort, spotless pleasure, " In love for ev'ry fellow creature
And bless'd and blessing you will live, Superior rise above the crowd,
“ If Heav'n with children crowns your dwelling, What most ennobles human nature
As mine its bounty does with you, Was ne'er the portion of the proud.
In fondness fatherly excelling “ Be thine the gen'rous heart that borrows
Th’example you have felt pursue." From others' joys a friendly glow,
lle paus'd—for tenderly caressing And for each hapless neighbour's sorrows
The darling of his wourided heart, Throbs with a sympathetic woe.
Looks had means only of expressing " This is the temper most endearing;
Thoughts language' never could impart. Tho' wide proud pomp her banners spreads,
Now night her mournful mantle spreading A heav'nlier pow'r good-nature bearing
Had rob’d with black th'horizon round, Each heart in willing thraldom leads.
And dank dews from her tresses shedding
With genial moisture bath'd the ground; du Beau follows. Si la felicité des hommes est necessairement liée avec la pratique de la vertu, When back to city follies flying il faut reconnoitre que la vertue est essentielle- 'Midst custom's slaves he liv'd resign'd, ment belle, puis que le beau consiste dans le His face, array'd in smiles, denying raport des choses avec notre destination,
The true complexion of his mind;
For seriously around surveying
“ The fiery glance of th' intellectual eye,
Piercing all objects of creation's store,
Which on this world's extended surface lie;
And plastic thought that still created more." (Peaceful himself and undesigning)
“O grant," with eager rapture I reply'd, He loath'd the scenes of guile and strife,
“ Grant me, great goddess of the changeful eye, And felt each secret wish inclining
To view each being in poetic pride,
To whom thy son gave immortality.”
Sweet Pancy smild, and wav'd her mystic rod,
When straight these visions felt her pow'rful arm,
And one by one succeeded at her nod,
As vassal sprites obey the wizard's charm.
Whose mantle, bound with brede etherial, Nord To each soft breeze its balmy breath that drew)
Swift down the sun-beams of the noon-tide rode,
Of an old sage to solitude resign'd,
With fenny vapours he obscur'd the day,
Lanch'd the long lightning, and let loose the wind What time the jocund rosy-bosom'd Hours He whirld the tempest thro' the howling air,
Led forth the train of Phæbus and the Spring, Rattled the dreadful thunderclap on high, And Zephyr mild profusely scatter flowers And rais'd a roaring elemental war
On Earth's green mantle from his musky wing, Betwixt the sea-green waves and azure sky. The Morn unbarr'd th'ambrosial gates of light, Then like Heav'n's mild embassador of love
Westward the raven pinion'd Darkness flew, To man repentant, bade the tumult cease, The landscape smil'd in vernal beauty bright, Smooth'd the blue bosom of the realms above,
And to their graves the sullen ghosts withdrew: And hush'd the rebel elements to peace. The nightingale no longer swell'd her throat Unlike to this in spirit or in mien
With love-lorn plainings tremulous and slow, Another form : succeeded to my vier; And on the wings of Silence ceas'd to float
A two-legg'd brute which Natare made in spleen, The gurgling notes of her melodious woe; Or from the loathing womb unfinish'd drev. The god of sleep mysterious visions led
Scarce cou'd he syllable the curse he thought, In gay procession 'fore the mental eye,
Prone were his eyes to earth, his mind to evil, And my free'd soul awhile her mansion fied, A carnal fiend to imperfection wrought, To try her plumes for immortality.
The mongrel offspring of a witch and devil. Thro' fields of air, methought I took my flight, Next bloom'd, upon an ancient forest's bound,
Thro' ev'ry clime o'er ev'ry region pass'd; The flow'ry margin 3 of a silent stream, No paradise or ruin 'scap'd my sight,
O'er-arch'd by oaks with ivy mantled roumi, Hesperian garden, or Cimmerian waste.
And gilt by silver Cynthia's maiden beam. On Avon's banks I lit, whose streams appear On the green carpet of th’unbended grass,
Towind with eddies fond roundShakespear's tomb, A dapper train of female fairies play'd, The year's first feath'ry songsters warble near, And ey'd their gainbols in the watry glass,
And vi'lets breathe, and earliest roses bloom. That smoothly stole along the shad’wy glade. Here Fancy sat, (her dewy fingers cold
Thro' these the queen Titania pass'd ador'd, Decking with flow'rets fresh th’unsullied sod,) Mounted aloft in her imperial car, And bath'd with tears the sad sepulcbral mould, Journeying to see great Oberon her lord
Her fav’rite offspring's long and last abode. Wage the mock battles of a sportive war. "Ah! what avails,” she cry'd, “ a poet's name? Arm'd cap-a-pee forth march'd the fairy king,
Ah! what avails th’immortalizing breath A stouter warrior never took the field, To snatch from dumb oblivion others' fame? His threat'ning lance a hornet's horrid sting,
My darling child here lies a prey to death! The sharded beetle's scale his sable shield. « Let gentle Otway, white-rob'd Pity's priest, Around their chief the elfin host appeard,
From grief domestic teach the tears to flow, Each little helmet sparkling like a star, Or Southern captivate th' impassion'd breast And their sharp spears a pierceless phalaux rear'd,
With heart-felt sighs and sympathy of woe. A grove of thistles, glittering in the air. " For not to these his genius was confin'd,
1 Ariel in the Tempest. Nature and I each tuneful pow'r had given, a Caliban in the Tempest. Poetic transports of the madding mind,
3 Fairy-land from the Midsummer-night's And the wing'd words that waft the soulto Heaven. ( Dream,
The scene then chang'd, from this romantic land, “ Teach me, what all believe, but few possess,
To a bleak waste by bound'ry uncontin'd, That life's best science is ourselves to know, Where three swart sisters 4 of the weird band The first of human blessings is to bless,
Were muttring curses to the troublous win.l. And happiest he who feels another's woe. Pale Want had wither'd every furrow'd face, “Thus cheaply wise, and innocently great,
Bow'd was each carcase with the weight of years, While Time's smooth sand shall regularly pass, And each sunk eye-ball from its holow case Each destin'd atom's quiet course I'll wait, Distillid cold rheum's involuntary tears.
Nor rashly shake, nor wish to stop the glass. Hors'd on three staves they posted to the bourn “ And when in death my peaceful ashes lie,
Of a drear island, where the pendent brow If e'er some tongue congenial speaks my name, Of a rough rock, shagg'd horribly with thorn, Friendship shall never blush to breathe a sigh,
Frown'don theboist'rous waves which rag'd below. And great ones envy such an honest fame, Deep in a gloomy grot remote from day,
Where smiling Comfort never show'd her face, Where light ne'er enter'd, save one rueful ray Discov'ring all the terrours of the place.
VER-VERT; OR, THE NUNNERY PARROT. They held damn'd myst'ries with infernal state,
A HEROIC POEM IN FOUR CANTOS,
INSCRIBED TO THE ABBESS OF D*****
First printed in 1759.
O you, round whom, at Virtue's shrine, Each weird sister vanish'd into smoke.
The solitary Graces shine, Now a dire yell of spiritss underground
With native charms all hearts engage, Thro'troubled earth's wide yawning surface broke; And reign without religious rage; When lo! each injur'd apparition rose;
You, whose congenial soul by Heaven Aghast the murd'rer started from his bed;
A pleasing guide to Truth was given, Guilt'strembling breath his heart's red currentfroze,
Uniting, with the family And horrour's dew-drops bath'd his frantic head.
Of rigid duties, harmless Mirth,
Daughter of social Liberty, More had I seen-but now the god of day
Twin-born with Humour at a birth, O'er Earth's broad breast his flood of light had And every other power to please, spread,
Taste, Fancy, Elegance, and Ease; When Morpheus call’d his fickle train away,
O! since you bid your bard relate And on their wings each bright illusion filed,
A noble bird's disastrous fate
In notes of sympathetic woe, Yet still the dear enchantress of the brain
Be you my Muse, my soul inspire, My wakeful eyes with wishful wand'rings sought, And teach my numbers how to flow Whose magic will controls th' ideal train,
Like those which trembled from your lyre The ever-restless progeny of 'Thought.
In soft and sorrow-soothing sound,
Whilst listening Cupids wept around, “Sweet pow'r,” said I, “ for others gild the ray
When dear Sultana's' spirit fled, Of wealth, or honour's folly-feather'd crown,
In youthful vigour's vernal bloom, Or lead the madding multitude astray
To the dark mansions of the dead: To grasp at air-blown bubbles of renowo.
Then for my hero's hapless doom “ Me (humbler lot!) let blameless bliss engage,
Such tears might once again be shed. Free from the noble mob's ambitious strife,
One might, upon his virtues cross'd
By adverse Fortune's envious rage,
And wanderings over many a coast,
Swell out the soporific page, “If frailties there (for who from them is free?) And other Odysseys compose Thro' errour's maze my devious footsteps lead,
To lull the reader to repose: Let them be frailties of humanity,
One might the gods and devils raise And my heart plead the pardon of my head. Of superannuated lies,
Spin out the deeds of forty days " Let not my reason impiously require
To volumes of dull histories, What Hear’n has plac'd beyond its narrow span, And with a pompous tediousness But teach me to subdue each fierce desire,
Sublimely heavy moralize Which wars within this little empire, man.
Upon a bird, in epic dress,
Who as Æneas' self was great, 4 The witches in Macbeth. s Ghosts in Macbeth, Richard III. &c.
As famous too for godliness,
To India ow'd his parentage, And each way more unfortunate;
By an old missionary sent But folios are, in verse, excess,
To this said convent for his good, Which the sweet Muses most abhor,
He yet was young and innocent, For they are sportive bees of spring,
And nothing worldly understood. Who dwell not long on any bower,
Beauteous he was, and debonnair, But, lightly wandering on the wing,
Light, spruce, inconstant, gay, and free, Collect the bloom from flower to flower,
And unreserv'd, as youngsters are, And, when one fragrant blossom 's dry,
Ere age brings on hypocrisy. To other sweets unrified Ay.
In short, a bird, from prattling merity This truth my observation drew
Worthy a convent to inherit. From faultless Nature and from you;
The tender cares I need not tell And may these lines, I copy, prove
Of all the sisterhood devout, I'm govern'd by the laws I love!
Nothing, 'tis said, each lov'd so well, Should I, too faithfully pourtraying
Leave but her ghostly father out, Some cloyster'd characters, reveal
Nay in some hearts, not void of grace, The convent arts themselves, arraying
One plain historian makes no doubt In pomp, with hieroglyphic skill,
The parrot of the priest took place. Each weighty business of the great,
He shard in this serene abode Each serious nothing's mystic face,
Whate'er was lor'd by the profession; Each trifle swell’d with holy state;
On him such dainties were bestow'd Your native humour, whilst I trace
As nuns prepare against confession, The comic semblance, will forbear
And for the sacred entrails hoard To blame the strokes you cannot fear;
Of holy fathers in the Lord. You may despise, from folly free,
Sole licens'd male to be belov'd, What dulness is oblig'd to wear,
Ver-Vert was bless'd without control, The formal mask of gravity.
Caressing and caress'd he rov'd Illusion's meteors never shine
Of all the monastery the soul, To lead astray such souls as thine.
Except some antiquated dames, All holy arts Heaven values less
Whose hearts to pleasure callous grown, Than amiable cheerfulness.
Remark'd with jealous eyes the flames Should Virtue her own image show
Of bosoms younger than their own. To ravish'd mortals here below,
At years of reason not arriv'd With features fierce she'd not appear
A life of privilege he liv'd, Nor Superstition's holy leer,
He said and did whate'er he wou'd, But, like the Graces, or like you,
And what he said or did was good. She'd come to claim her altar's due.
He'd peck the nuns in wanton play In many an author of renown
To wile their plain-work hours away; I've read this curious observation,
No party ever was approv'd That, by much wandering up and down,
Without his favourite company; Men catch the faults of every nation,
In him they found what females lov'd, And lose the virtues of their own.
That life of bliss variety: 'Tis better, e'en where scanty fare is,
He'd strut a beau in sportive rings Our homely hearths and honours watching, Uttering pert sentences by rote, Under protection of our Lares,
Mimic the butterfly's light wings A calm domestic life to wed,
Or nightingale's complaining note; Than run about infection catching
He'd laugh, sing, whistle, joke, and leer, Wherever chance and errour tread:
And frolic, but discreetly so, The youth too soon who goes abroad
With a prudential cautious fear, Will half a foreigner become,
As nuns probationary do. And bring his wondering friends a load
Question'd at once by many a tongue Of strange exotic vices home.
Incessantly inquisitive, This truth the hero of my tale
He could discordant sounds among, Exemplifies in tarnish'd glory;
To each a proper answer give; Should sceptic wits the truth assail,
This power from Cæsar's nothing varies, I call for witness to my story
Who did at once great plans conceive Each cloister'd echo now that dwells
And dictate to four secretaries. In Nevers' consecrated cells.
If chronicles may be believ'd, At Nevers, but few years ago,
So lov'd the pampart gallant liv'd, Among the nuns o'th' Visitation,
That with the nuns he always din'd There dwelt a parrot, though a beau,
On rarities of every kind; For sense of wondrous reputation;
Then hoards, occasionally varied, Whose virtues, and genteel address,
Of biscuits, sweet-meats, nuts, and fruit, Whose figure, and whose noble soul,
Each sister in her pocket carried, Would have secur'd him from distress
Sabordinately to recruit, Could wit and beauty fate control.
At leisure times, when not at table, Ver-Vert (for so the nuns agreed
His stomach indefatigable. To call this noble personage)
The little Cares, with tender faces, The hopes of an illustrious breed,
And fond Attentions, as they say, VOL. XV.