« НазадПродовжити »
The poet's bay, the patriot's laurel shine, Written after a visit to Studley Park and
With loftiest oak, and elm to grace the view Fountaine's Abbey, near Rippon, Yorkshire.
Mid copses green, fair Grecian columns rise,
Bright as Diana from a sable cloud; ARE sylvan shades to contemplation dear? There seeks the towering obelisk the skies, Can peerless beauty wake the tuneful song?
Here bends the breathing statue o'er the ThanSindleyshall thy groves the minstrel hear,
flood. As soft he pours his liquid noies along.
Fair Nature ! thou hast spread thy boundless Yet let no muse of light fautastic air,
store, Unhallow'd on thy solemn walks intrude ;
Of charms to grace this sweet sequester'd For heaven-born Piety, divinely fair,
vale; Has fixt her temple in thy solitude. I hail thee here, nor less thy sister power, And if beside thy stream the wanderer stray,
Offspring of heaven, creative Arig I hail. Where trees and skies in placidlustre shine; But chiefly Thee, Supreme! to whom alone, Its rising Genius, whispering seems to say,
As justly due, be all our praises given: * Calm be thy bosoni, and as pure as mine." Whose image in thy fairest works we own, Here smiling nature strings the poet's lyre,
And trace all beauty to its fount in heaven. Aad bids its tones with her's in concert Present in all, but oh! more closely nigh, swell:
To the intelligent, immortal mind; Eolian music aids the tuneful quire,
Thy converse must our richest joys supply, And sportive Naiades sound the murmuring Midst nature's loveliest scenes, or friendshell.
ship's sweets refin'd. Athousand graces strike the wondering sight, With Thee through Studley's varied scenes
And Beauty triumphs in her sylvan bow'rs;
Assur'd no lapse of time, no change of place, Midst arching groves, she courts the whis
Can change thy love, unalienably true. pering brecze, Where zephyrs with the trembling foliage
But lo! while contemplation swift conveys,
My spirit to the utmost verge of time; play, Or upward views through interlacing trees,
In sudden pomp, the pride of other days, Cerulean heaven its lucid light display.
Thy mouldering towers, vast fountains rise
sublime. Here rising, as call'd forth by magic spell, Abruptly breaks the rough rock's rugged Absorbing thought restrains the ready side;
tongue, There sloping soft with indulating swell,
Emotions deep extort the silent tear: The rich parterre displays the garden's pride. Where are the sounds which once these arches So, on the human destiny sublime,
The feet that trod these cloisters are not Life's social charities serenely rise ;
here! amoothing full oft, the rugged brow of time, And breathing fragrance to their native Nor here the power at whose supreme comskies.
The Abbey's venerable pile appear'd ; Through darkling woods the limpid current Long fallen from superstition's nerveless hand, glider,
Low lies that sceptre which the nation Then spreads translucento'er the grassy vale, fear'd. There bends the willow pensive o'er its' sides, And here the rustling poplar courts the gale. But oft beneath those solemn arches grey,
Walks the lone Genius of departed time; The esh, bright-berried, and the mountain pine, Sighs o'er its falling towers, and seems to say, The silver beech, and firs of varied hue; * How art thou wasted since thine hour of
prinie." A beautiful small temple, consecrated to Piety, is placed at a short distance from the entrance to Dim through the vista of receding years, the grounds
A vision d train in sainted stole array'd:
Flit like the hues the passing rainbow wears, Champion of truth, from heaven's own arsenal When chas'd by clouds its humid coloars
In all the panoply of strength divine;
'Gainst hell, and all her hosts he took the field, The mitred Abbot leads the pensive band, And fought and conquer'd through the mysWho once within these walls his sway.
tic sign. maintain'd;
Him Earope claims, her bright and leading Obsequious monks await his high command,
star, And harsh the rule where superstition Guiding the nations through the gloom of reign'd.*
night: With look severe, oh! how unlike the smile, But,Britain, thou canst boast of names as dear,
Which gilds divine religion's angel face; Who shar'd the triumphs of that dreadful She lifts the scourge, and urges fruitless toil, fight. As penance meet for sin, and price for Gloucester and Oxford, honor'd! ye can te!), heavenly grace.
How nobly Cranmer, Hooper, Ridley stood, From lonely cells, through aisles of cloisterd And Smithfield, blazing with the tires of hell, gloom,
Can speak of martyrs firm to truth and God. Where the dim cresset sheds its sickly ray, All hail! to piety, to virtue dear, At midnight hour the lorn enthusiasts come,
Ye holy, veteran, venerable band ; To hold the cheerless watch, to muse and with hallow'd sound on every British ear, pray.
Fall your bleșt names, wbile Britain's self
shall stand. Bright on the altar burns the mystic chrism, From odorous incense curling filmes And oh! may Albion to her bosom bind ascend:
That sacred truth for which ye nobly bled, Soft swells the pealing harmony to heaven,
Made free herself, emancipate mankind, While low to suffering Deity they bend.
And to earth's utmost verge Jehovah's
message spread. Nor there alone, for buman with divine,
O never by deceptive lights betray'd, Their undistinguishing devotions share ;
Unwary may she lier high charge forego: The saint rever'd, the martyr's holy shrine, Let the fierce wolf, again the fold invade, Attest alike the ineffectual prayer.
And guiltless blood, through peaceful pas
tures flow. With wildering light th’ enthusiasts ardour Nor wandering pensive near this mouldering glows,
fane, Dense rise the flames from superstition's fire; Lo, round the vision clouds of darkness close, Tooloundly of that barbarous power complain,
Let genius o'er its prostrate greatness sigh; AndTime beholds the fleeting shades retire.
Which bade its ruin'd towers in fragments
lie. Yes, all is fed, for Truth's Ithuriel speart Has touch'd foul falsehood to her native For bere at eyp, shall wisdom oft be seen, form;
When the pale moon-beams gild the lonely Dispery'd delusion into viewless air,
glen ; As bursts the meteor of the passing storm.
'Midst shatter'd tombs, and ivi'd turrets green,
Deep musing on the changing states of men. Mid the deep gloom of intellectual night,
Nor frequeut less, when morning's brilliant When o'er the worid thick moral darkness
Tint the tall trees, and kiss the sparkling He spake, who at creation callid forth light, flood; And Luther from the trackless chaos sprung. Here shall she come, the choral song to raise,
To him who rules o'er time and nature, God. • The Cistercian monks, to which order Foun: Whose providence, a chain too dazzling bright taine's Abbey belonged, were very strict in their observances. They wore neither skins nor shirts, For mortal eye in all its links to view ; nor ever ate flesh, except in sickness; they lay Drew Britain forth, from shades of deepest upon straw beds, and rose at midnight to prayers; they spent the day in labour, reading and prayer:
night, and in all their exercises observed a continual
To hail the sun, and drink the orient dew! silence.
This Abbey was founded very early in the thir. Long may her day in cloudless beauty shine! teenth century, by Thurstin, Archbishop of York, Long may her children in its light rejoice! and was suppressed by King Henry the eighth, in Yes! till yon glorious orb, his beams resign, the year 1510.
And earth dissolve, at her Creator's voice. + Vide Paradise Lost, book IV. line 810.
A.B. Printed at the Conference-Office, 14, City-Road, by Thomas Cordeur, Agent.
FOR FEBRUARY, 1819.
MEMOIRS OF THE LATE MR. JOHN LEIFCHILD.
Mr. John LEIFCHILD was born in 1745, at St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, a place of which he ever cherished the fondest remembrance, and which afterwards became still further endeared to him, as the scene of his occasional, but zealous and successful exertions for promoting the knowledge of revealed truth. He was one of those instances in which the Divine favour manifests its sovereignty, and triumphs over the disadvantages of a man's connexions; neither his parents, nor any of his near relations, appearing to be the subjects of vital Christianity. Attached, indeed, they were, to the outward services of religion; but, there was reason to apprehend, that love to God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, were entirely wanting. How often do we behold that grace which is more usually connected with a pious ancestry, attaching itself to some particular branch of a foreign stock, and producing there an abundance of “ righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost !”
During the period of his apprenticeship at Edgeware, in circumstances the most unfriendly to every religious feeling, be beeame powerfully impressed with the importance of Divine truth. His fondness for reading, and the general cultivation of his mind, prevented him from associating with young persons in situations similar to his own; and he grew up in total ignorance of all the comparatively innocent modes of boyish recreations and amusements. His regard for morality, coupled with his obliging behaviour and great affability, gained him, at this time, the esteem of all who knew him: while Religion, appearing in none of her awful and overpowering forms, already poured her consolations into a heart which was destined to become the seat of her richest treasures.
Few appear to have attained to eminence in religion, and to have reached the heights of its enjoyments, by whom the season
VOL. XLII. FEBRUARY, 1819.
* K *