« НазадПродовжити »
The homely beauty of the good old cause | In thee a bulwark of the cause of men; Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And I by my affection was beguiled. And pure religion breathing household-laws. What wonder, if a Poet, now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a Lover or a Child.
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
October, 1803. England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword and pen, One might believe that natural miseries Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Had blasted France, and made of it a land Have forfeited their ancient English dower Unfit for Men; and that in onc great Band Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Her Sons were bursting forth, to dwell at Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue,freedom, power. But 'tis a chosen soil, where sun and brecze Thy soul was like a Star and dwelt apart: Shed gentle favors; rural works are there; Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like And ordinary business without care;
Spot rich in all things that can soothe and Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
please! So didst thou travel on life's common way, How piteous then that there should be such In cheerful godliness ; and yet thy heart
dearth The lowliest duties on itself did lay. Of knowledge; that whole myriads should
unite To work against themselves such fell despite: XV.
Should come in phrenzy and in drunken mirth,
Impatient to put out the only light It is not to be thought of that the Flood
Of Liberty that yet remains on Earth! Of British freedom, which to the open Sea Of the world's praise from dark antiquity
XVIII. Hath flowed, with pomp of waters, unwith
stood, Road by which all might come and go that There is a bondage which is worse to bear
Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, And bear out freights of worth to foreign
Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall : That this most famous Stream in Bogs and "Tis his who walks about in the open air,
One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear Should perish; and to evil and to good
Their fetters in theirSouls. For who could be, Be lost for ever. In our Halls is hung
Who, even the best, in such condition, free Armoury of the invincible Knights of old: From self-reproach, reproach which he must We must be free or die, who speak the tongue
share That Shakspeare spake; the faith and morals With Human Nature? Never be it ours
To see the Sun how brightly it will shine, Which Milton held. In every thing we are And know that noble Feelings, manly Powers,
Instead of gathering strength must droop Of Earth's first blood, have titles manifold.
and pine, And Earth with all her pleasant fruits and
Fade, and participate in Man's decline.
WHEN I have borne in memory what has
October, 1803. desert The Student's bower for gold, some fears THESE times touch money'd Worldlings with unnamed
dismay: I had, my Conntry! am I to be blamed ? Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air But, when I think of Thee, and what Thou With words of apprehension and despair:
While tens of thousands, thinking on the Verily, in the bottom of my heart,
affray, Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed. Men unto whom sufficient for the day But dearly must we prize thee; we who find | And minds not stinted or untilld are given,
Sound, healthy Children of the God of | In brightest sunshine bask,—this nipping air,
Sent from some distant clime where Winter Are cheerful as the rising Sun in May.
wields What do we gather hence but firmer faith His icy scymetar, a foretaste yields That every gift of noble origin
Of bitter change--and bids the Flowers Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;
beware; That virtue and the faculties within And whispers to the silent Birds, “ prepare re vital, and that riches are akin
Against the threatening foe yonr trustiest To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death!
To Nature's tuneful quire, this rustling dry
line sky, ENGLAND! the time is come when thou Announce a season potent to renew,
Mid frost and snow, the instinctive joys of Thy heart from its emasculating food;
song, The truth should now be better understood; And nobler cares than listless summer knew. Old things have been unsettled; we have seen Fair seed-time, better harvest might have been
November 1, 1815.
step between. How clear, how keen, how marvellously England ! all nations in this charge agree:
bright But worse, more ignorant in love and hate, The effluence from yon distant mountain's Far, far more abject is thine Enemy:
head, Therefore the wise pray for thee, though Which, strewn with snow as smooth as the freight
Heaven can shed, Of thy offences be a heavy weight: Shines like another Sun-on mortal sight, Oh grief! that Earth's best hopes rest all Uprisen, as if to check approaching night, with Thee! And all her twinkling stars. Who now
would tread, XXI. If so he might, yon mountain's glittering
Terrestrial--but a surface, by the flight November, 1806.
of sad mortality's earth-nullying wing,
Unswept, unstained ? Nor shall the aerial ANOTHER year!—another deadly blow!
Powers Another mighty Empire overthrown!
Dissolve that beauty-destined to endure And we are left, or shall be left, alone; The last that dare to struggle with the Foe: Through all vicissitudes-- till genial spring
White, radiant, spotless, exquisitely pure, "Tis well! from this day forward we shall Have filled the laughing vales with welcome know
flowers. That in ourselves our safety must be
sought; That by our own right hands it must be
XXIV. wrought, That we must stand unpropp'd, or be laid low.
COMPOSED IN RECOLLECTION OF THE EXPEDITION 0 Dastard whom such foretaste doth not cheer!
OP THE FRENCH INTO RUSSIA. We shall exult, if They who rule the land
Ye storms, rebound the praises of your King! Be Men who hold its many blessings dear, And ye mild seasons-in a sunny clime, Wise, upright, valiant; not a venal Band, Midway on some high hill, while Father Time Who are to judge of danger which they Looks on delighted-meet in festal ring;
fear, And honour which they do not understand. Sing ye, with blossoms crowned, and fruits,
And loud and long of Winter's triumph sing!
and flowers, Of Winter's breath surcharged with sleety XXII.
And the dire flapping of his hoary wing ! September, 1815.
Knit the blithe dance upon the soft green
grans; While not a Icaf seems faded, while the With feet, hands, eyes, looks, lips, report fields,
your gain; With ripening harvests prodigally fair, Whisper it to the billows of the main,
And to the aerial Zephyrs as they pass, Want, through neglect of hoar Antiquity. That old decrepit Winter- He hath slain Rise, then, ye votive Towers, and catch a That Host, which rendered all your boun
gleam ties vain!
Of golden bun-set-ere it fade and die!
SUGGESTED BY WESTALL's views of the
THE WILD-DUCK'S NEST.
The Imperial Consort of the Fairy-King Pure element of waters! wheresoe'er Owns not a sylvan bower, or gorgeous cell Thou dost forsake thy subterranean haunts, With emerald floor’d, and with purpureal Green herbs, bright flowers, and berry
shell bearing plants, Ceiling'd and roof'd; that is so fair a thing Rise into life and in thy train appear:
As this low structure—for the tasks of Spring And, through the sunny portion of the year, Prepared by one who loves the buoyant swell Swift insects shine, thy hovering pursuivants: Of the brisk waves, yet here consents to And, if thy bounty fail, the forest pants ;
dwell; And hart and hind and hunter with his And spreads in steadfast peace her brooding spear
wing Languish and droop together. Nor unfelt Words cannot paint the o'ershadowing yewIn man's perturbed soul thy sway benign;
tree-bough, And, haply, far within the marble belt And dimly-gleaming Nest,-a hollow crown Of central earth, where tortured Spirits pine Of golden leaves inlaid with silver down, For grace and goodness lost, thy murmurs Fine as the Mother's softest plumes allow :
I gaze--and almost wish to lay aside Their anguish,—and they blend sweet songs flumanity, weak slave of cumbrous pride!
GOB D A L E.
CAPTIVITY. At early dawn,-or rather when the air Glimmers with fading light, and shadowy eve Strikes through the Traveller’s frame with
As the cold aspect of a sunless way Is busiest to confer and to bereave,
deadlier chill, Then, pensive votary, let thy feet repair To Gordale-chasm, terrific as the lair
Oft as appears a grove, or obvious hill, Where the young lions couch ;– for so, by Or shining slope where he must never stray;
Glistening with unparticipated ray,
leave of the propitious hour, thou mayst perceive Sharpen the keenest edge of present ill,
So joys, remembered without wish or will The local Deity, with oozy hair And mineral crown, beside his jagged urn
On the crush'd heart a beavier burthen lay.
Just Heaven, contract the compass of my Recumbent:-him thou mayst behold, who
mind hides His lineaments by day, and there presides, Quench those felicities whose light I find
To fit proportion with my altered state ! Teaching the docile waters how to turn; Or, if need be, impediment to spurn,
Burning within my bosom all too late!And force their passage to the salt-sea-tides! O be my spirit, like my thraldom, strait;
And like mine eyes, that stream with sorrow,
Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and Shall I discharge to thee a grateful vow?-
white as they By planting on thy head (in verse at least, Bat hardier far, though modestly thou bend As I have often done in thought) the crest Thy front--as if such presence could offend ! of an imperial Castle, which the plough Who guards thy slender stalk, while, day of ruin shall not touch. Innocent scheme!
by day, That doth presume no more than to supply Storms, sallying from the mountain - tops, A grace the sinuous vale and roaring stream
VERY EARLY IN TO THE RIVER DERWENT.
The rising sun, and on the plains descend ? | What are fears but voices airy?
Till the fatal bolt is shot!
Nor the vows which she has made;
Diamonds dart their brightest lustre
From a palsy-shaken head.
What is truth?–a staff rejected; Among the mountains were we nurs’d, lov'd Duty ?-an unwelcome clog;
Joy?-a dazzling moon reflected
To the Traveller's eye it shone :
Gone, as if for ever hidden, Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam Or misshapen to the sight; Of thy soft breath!- Less vivid wreaths en- And by sullen weeds forbidden
To resume its native light.
Age?-a drooping, tottering willow
What is peace? --when pain is over,
And love ceases to rebel,
Let the last faint sigh discover
TRANSLATED FROM CHIABRERA.
Perhaps some needful service of the State And-to a point of just relief--abate
Drew Titus from the depth of studions The mantling triumphs of a day too blest.
bowers And doomed him to contend in faithless
courts, Where gold determines between right and
Yet did at length his loyalty of heart
And his pure native genius lead him back SUPPOSED TO BE POUND IN A HERMIT'S CELL. To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses
Whom he had early loved. And not in vain Hopes what are they?- Beads of morning Such course he held! Bologna's learned Strung on slender blades of grass;
schools Or a spider's web adorning
Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and In a strait and treacherous pass.
With fondness on those sweet Nestorian And the broad gulfs I traversed oft-andstrains.
oft: There pleasure crowned his days; and all of every cloud which in the heavens might his thoughts
stir A roséate fragrance breathed,-0 human life, I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's That never art secure from dolorous change!
pride Behold a high injunction suddenly
Availed not to my Vessel's overthrow. To Arno's side conducts him, and he charmed What noble pomp and frequent have not I A Tuscan audience: but full soon was called On regal decks beheld! yet in the end To the perpetual silence of the grave. I learn that one poor moment can suffice Monrn, Italy, the loss of him who stood To equalize the lofty and the low. A Champion steadfast and invincible, We sail the sea of life-a Calm One finds, To quell the rage of literary War! And One a Tenipest--and, the voyage o'er,
Death is the quiet haven of us all.
If more of my condition you would know, II.
Savona was my birth-place, and I sprang
of noble Parents : sixty years and three 0 thou who movest onward with a mind
Lived 1-then yielded to a slow disease.
Nor in life's vigorous season did I shun To escape from many and strange indignities; Hazard or toil; among the Sands was seen Was smitten by the great ones of the world of Lybia, and not seldom on the Banks But did not fall
, for virtue braves all shocks, of wide Hungarian Danube 'twas my lot Upon herself resting immoveably.
To hear the sanguinary trumpet sounded. Me did a kindlier fortune then invite So lived I, and repined not at such fate; To serve the glorious Henry, King of France, That stripped of arms I to my end am brought
This only grieves me, for it seems a wrong, And in his hands I saw a high reward Stretched out for my acceptance-but Death On the soft down of my paternal home.
Yet haply Arno shall be spared all cause Now, Reader, learn from this my fate-- To blush for me. Thou, loiter not nor halt
In thy appointed way, and bear in mind How treacherons to her promise is the World, How Aceting and how frail is human life. And trust in God- to whose eternal doom Must bend the sceptred Potentates of Earth.
Pause, courteous Spirit!-Balbi supplicates III.
That Thou, with no reluctant voice, for him
Here laid in mortal darkness, wouldst prefer There never breathed a man who when his A prayer to the Redeemer of the World.
This to the Dead by sacred rights belongs; Was closing might not of that life relate All else is nothing.–Did occasion suit Toils long and hard. — The Warrior will To tell his worth, the marble of this tomb
Would ill suffice, for Plato's love sublime Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in And all the wisdom of the Stagyrite
Enriched and beautified this studious mind: And blast of trumpets. He who hath been with Archimedes also he conversed
As with a chosen Friend, nor did he leave To bow his forehead in the courts of kings, Those laureat wreaths ungathered which the Will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate,
Nymphs Envy, and heart-inquietude, derived Twinc on the top of Pindus.--Finally, From intricate cabals of treacherous friends. Himself above each lower thought uplifting, I, .who on ship-board lived from earliest His ears he closed to listen to the song
Which Sion's Kings did consecrate of old; Could represent the countenance horrible And fixed his Pindus upon Lebanon of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage A blessed Man! who of protracted days of Auster and Boötes. Forty years Made not, as thousands do, a vulgar sleep; Over the well-steered Gallies did I rule :- But truly did He live his life.-Urbino From huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars Take pride in him;-0 Passenger farewell! Rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;