Two dithyrambic odes: I. On enthusiasm. II. To laughter. By the author of Rimes.

ADVERTISEMENT.

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THE reader may perhaps think that there was no oc⯑caſion to give a new title to theſe Odes, the former denomination of Irregular being ſufficient. But, ever ſince the days of Cowley, Irregular Odes have had more pretenſions to the irregularity of chaos than to that of nature. The Author has therefore reſtored their an⯑cient name. When a title becomes a badge of indignity, it is ſurely proper to refuſe it. Yet titles are neither here nor there.

The Italians, who alone of all modern nations feel what real poetry, what real painting, what real muſic are, have many productions of high ſame under this title. The flames would have received the following pieces, had not the Author known that they have more merit than many productions, which have the honour to attain the praiſe of thoſe who know nothing. But he pretends not to the exquiſite ſpirit of Poliziano.

DITHYRAMBIC ODE I. ON ENTHUSIASM.

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SHADES of poets bleſt!
That oft my dreams,
With rapturous gleams
Of glory, have poſſeſt;
Appear, appear, appear!
If yet the mortal vow ye hear,
O hither, from your manſions bright,
O hither bend your ſpeedy flight;
While light and odours float around,
And harps unſeen empyreal airs reſound.

Say, from what living ſpring
Deſcends the flood of fame,
That bears your ſacred ſtrains along
The vales and echoing mountains o'er
[6]Of each admiring ſhore;
While empires all prolong,
In every varied ſpeech, the wonders of your ſong;
And languages, that have as yet no name,
Their tributary rills ſhall bring
To ſwell the lordly ſtream?

Say, from what mighty cauſe
Is heard the high applauſe,
That you the diſtant climes,
That you the diſtant times,
With adoration have confeſt
Gods of the human breaſt;
And, moved with filial awe,
Have bent their ſenſe and feeling to your law;
And nobleſt homage brought,
The homage of the thought?
Enthuſiaſm was that ſpring!
Enthuſiaſm was the cauſe
[7]Why heard that high applauſe!
Enthuſiaſm, race divine! did all thoſe honours bring!

Ye chief of former days, whoſe daring vows addreſſed
Nature ere hid in Faſhion's ſpeckled veſt;
When ſhe, great goddeſs, in her prime,
Her virgin fancies played at will,
Fancies ſurpaſſing mortal ſkill;
And with her ſons held colloquy ſublime,
By hallowed fount with verdant gloom o'ergrown,
Or in the whiſpering vale, or deſert mountain lone;
While forms of heaven not unſeen
With fairy footſteps paced the green,
And in myſtic notes conveyed
Things ſecret from the human thought or eye.
Full oft, ſuch is thy will, O Poeſy!
Where vulgar minds diſcern nought, ſave the ſhade,
The wiſe the ſun deſcry *.
[8]For oft the ſun will ſhroud
His flames behind a cloud.

And, Sages, ye whoſe eloquence divine
Would, with a golden chain,
The hearer's ſoul reſtrain,
And bear to every Paſſion's diſtant ſhrine.
Whoſe thunder ſhook the throne
Of each barbaric lord;
Tho by deluded myriads prone
Of trembling ſlaves adored.
Whoſe lucid art of life illumed the plan;
And heavenly Wiſdom brought to dwell with man.

Without thy fierce controul,
Enthuſiaſm, ſoul of the rapt ſoul!
Picture in vain bids her creation riſe;
Muſic in vain her vocal ſkill applies;
In night the fair creation lies;
[9]The bidden airs ſleep in the ſullen ſhell,
Till thou their birth impell.
At thy command the glowing forms appear:
At thy command the ſtrains enchant the ear.

Thy praiſe may every art,
And ſcience fair impart;
For all to thee their richeſt luſtre owe.
From thee all attributes of mind
That to gods exalt mankind;
All deeds immortal flow.

Hark, hark! The ſounds of conflict riſe;
What light divine illumes that ſacred field,
Leonidas! where thy devoted few
Their fatal falchions drew:
And of their carcaſes compoſed a ſhield,
Their country to protect from daſtard enemies!
In Freedom's holy hand
Their radiant banner flew:
[10]Before the godlike band
Her rouſing trump Enthuſiaſm blew.

When bold Colombo dared the watery realm
A world unknown to find;
Enthuſiaſm held the helm,
And with freſh vigor ſtored his ardent mind.
Till roſe the wiſhed ſhore,
Where empires loſt to fame before,
Where golden cities ſhone,
And ſhrines of other ſacred powers;
Groves of new pomp, and meads of other flowers,
And other muſic from the copſe was blown.

Oh goddeſs! if one happy clime
Remains yet ſecret from the Muſe,
Thy bleſſed influence diffuſe,
O lend thy votary thy aid ſublime,
By art's juſt compaſs, and by fancy's gate,
There to direct his daring ſail,
And treaſures bring unknown in former time!

DITHYRAMBIC ODE II. To LAUGHTER.

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THE violet that in the lonely ſtream
Beholds her humble head,
Tho ſaved from icy breeze or ſultry beam,
Her fragrant leaves muſt ſhed.
Along the ſtream that fed
Her life, the fragrant leaves are toſt,
Till in the ruthleſs ocean loſt.

Meet emblem of man's fading joy,
That, tho ſaved from all annoy,
On time's inevitable wave
Still haſtens to the grave!

To taſte the fragrance of the flower,
And not the flower deſtroy,
Is wiſdom. Haſte, the fleeting hour
Ye race of Mirth employ.

Thou, Laughter, lead the feſtal band;
Wit and Humour, hand in hand,
[12]Sports that dance, and Sports that ſing,
Love and Rapture with thee bring.
Now when merry Spring repoſes
On her bed of balmy roſes,
In fantaſtic meaſures revel
All along the flowery level.

Sweet melody pervades the luminous air ^*.

The jocund tribes appear!

My ſuppliant thy wiſh declare;

Lo I wait to hear thy prayer.

While ſome, tho wiſe, in mental gloom
Their melancholy hours entomb;
And, from terror of the morrow,
Waſte the given day in ſorrow:
Attend, propitious Power, my claim!
Do thou invading cares repell:
With thee, dear goddeſs, let me dwell,
And laugh at life's amuſing game.

THE END.