A COLLECTION OF POETICAL ESSAYS.
CONSISTING OF
I. An ELEGY on a
Pile
of SACRED RUINS; imitating the Manner of Mr
Cunningham
's celebrated Elegy.
II. ELEGIAC REFLECTIONS, written in the VAULT of ST NICHOLAS CHURCH,
Newcastle upon Tyne.
III. FRAGMENT, written among the RUINS of
Tinmouth Castle
and
Monastery.
IV. ODE for the
Nativity
of the MESSIAH.
V. MIRA's DESPAIR, an ELEGY.
VI. ODE to PEACE,
&c.
By
J. B.
of
Newcastle upon Tyne.
NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE: Printed by I. THOMPSON,
Esq
1765.
And Sold by the BOOKSELLERS in Town and Country.
PREFACE.
C ONTEMPLATIONS
on the fluctuating
Uncertainty
of
Temporal Things,
and the various
Evils
and
Vicissitudes
of
Human Life,
as they have in all
Ages
claimed the
Attention
of the
good
and
serious
Part of
Mankind,
so are, in a more particular Manner, beneficial to the
INTERESTS
of
CHRISTIANITY.
They may be considered, I presume, as so many
Addenda,
to throw
Light
and
moral Confirmation
upon those
VOLUMES
of
REVEALED WILL,
which, tho' presented to us in the
Medium
of a critically imperfect
Translation,
proceed, in their divine
ORIGINALS,
from the immediate
Inspiration
of
unerring
and
eternal WISDOM.
By Way of
Preface
to these
ELEGIAC ESSAYS,
I have chosen to premise a few
Observations
of this Kind, which, to me at least, appear the natural
Result
of every candid and impartial
Enquiry
after
Truth.
Whosoever takes an unprejudiced
Survey
of the
FACULTIES
of the
HUMAN MIND,
must necessarily acknowledge their
Constitution
to be in many Respects
ENIGMATICAL
and
CONTRADICTORY;
and indeed, whether we examine the
Public Annals
of
Society
or have Regard to the
Private Information
of our own
Consciences;
whether the
Characters
of the
Learned
or
Illiterate,
become
Objects
of our
Consideration;
the
Truth
of this
Assertion
is made equally clear and conspicuous:—Separately we may discern the same longing
Desires
after
Happiness,
and yet voluntary
Subjection
to
Misery;
the same boasted imaginary
Strength
and
Weakness,
when tested by
Experience;—
the same
Love
of
Truth,
and leaning
Credulity
towards
Error:—
In a Word, the same diametrically opposite
Inclinations
of
Virtue
and
Vice, (
tho' varied in Proportion to an endless
Variety
of
Circumstances
producing them
)
may be easily traced through the general
Tenor
of the
Actions
of
Mankind:
and, upon the whole, form so intricate a
Knot
of
Contraricties,
as unassisted
Reason
shall by no Means be able to unloose.
If we further add to this seemingly unaccountable
Composition
of the
MIND,
that
Multiplicity
of
Disorders, Pains,
and disastrous
Accidents
to which the
BODY
stands particularly exposed, we may with
Hippocrates
almost venture to affirm,
. "The whole
Man
from his
Birth
is a
Disease." We may exclaim with the
Poet,
O LIFE! tremendous
Interval
of
Birth
and
Death!
Who shall recount
thy
ILLS? what
Hand
shall pen
Th' immeasurable
Logarithm
of
Woes,
Mental
Anxieties,
corporeal
Pains,
That 'twixt these solemn
Periods
intervene.
And, with all possible
Justness
and
Propriety,
may denominate
MAN,
the
RIDDLE
of the
CREATION.
I would infer from these
Observations
the apparent
Necessity
of
DIVINE REVELATION;
how highly it behoves us to listen to the infallible
Dictates
of this great
CONDUCTRESS,
whose peculiar
Province
it is to point out the hidden
Causes
of all the inevitable
Miseries
and
Misfortunes
of
Human Life;
as also how diffident we ought to be in trusling solely to the
Directions
of this so much boasted
Rational Faculty,
which is but
mole-ey'd
at best, and whose chief
Constituent
seems to be an inherent
Pride,
which refuses to put on the
CHRISTIAN YOKE;
and of consequence secludes us from being
Objects
of the
Favour
of the
SUPREME BENIGNITY.—
This blind
Reliance
on our own
Strength
loosens insensibly the
Ties
of our
Dependance
upon him who is
ALL-SUFFICIENT.—
We imperceptibly become ashamed of conversing with him by
Prayer;—
regard, as
Superfluity,
the tributary Incense of
Gratitude
and
Praise;—
and at length, wilfully shut our
Eyes
against the
mid-day Beams
of the
SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. —
Hence
Irreligion, Profaneness,
groveling
Sensuality,
and all that black
Catalogue
of
Crimes,
which are the evident
Marks
of the benighted unregenerate
Mind;—
hence the
Beau Monde,
the
Papilios
of the
Human Race,
place their chief Happiness in contemplating the
Finery
of their own
Dress;
the
Prude,
or
Coquette,
is more solicitous of
Admiration
in a brilliant
Assembly
upon
Earth,
than studious to adorn herself for the inexpressibly magnificent
Assembly
of the
FIRST-BORN
in
HEAVEN.
Upon the whole,
PRIDE
may be justly stiled the
Primum Mobile
of
Evil,
the
Sire
of
Sin,
the
Source
of
Mischief,
and the
Bane
both of
Temporal
and
Eternal Felicity.
J. B.
ARGUMENT.
ELEGY may be termed, with metaphorical
Propriety,
the eldest
Daughter
of
Meditation,
and highly merits the
Veneration
of the
Learned
and
Benevolent,
as being a
Species
of the greatly diversified
Science
of
Poetry,
every Way adapted to the serious
Taste,
or solemn
Temper
of the human
Soul.
When her
Theme
contemplates the short Duration of all earthly
Grandeur
in the awful
Ruins
of
Temples, Towers,
and other superb
Edifices,
become a Prey to
Time,
we are naturally led by her to a
Reflection
on the empty
Efforts
of ambitious
Art,
the
Imbecillity
of mortal
Power,
and the changing
Inconstancy
and
Vicissitude
of all
sublunary Things.
*⁎* The public
Candour
is here more particularly requested, as the following
Essays
are the first
Offspring
of a
Juvenile Muse,
and, on many Accounts of
Time, Person,
and
Circumstance,
have been liable to
Hinderance
and unavoidable
Difficulties.
If the
Attempt
merits the least
Shadow
of
Approbation,
let the censorious
Criticisins
of the
Injudicious
be its
Encomium.
AN ELEGY ON A PILE of SACRED RUINS.
The solemn
TEMPLES,
Yea! the great Globe itself, and all which it inherit,
Shall dissolve; and, like the baseless Fabrick of a Vision,
Leave not a Wreck behind.
SHAKESP.
I.
I N a lone VILLA, the once-lov'd
Retreat,
Where, cloy'd with Crouds,
Wealth
sought the silvan Shade;
Near the fall'n
Rubbish
of some
rural Seat,
A ruin'd TEMPLE tow'rs its tott'ring
Head.
II.
The Moss-grown
Walls,
high pil'd in
Gothic Pride,
Stand, Time-defac'd with many a wide-rent Flaw;
Nor fails the
Prospect
view'd on every Side,
T'imprint the musing
Mind
with solemn
Awe.
III.
Sadly sequester'd, 'mid the dreary
Waste,
A Row of blasted
Yew Trees
gloom around;
Redoubling
Terror,
and the
Peasant
's
Haste,
That treads perforce the
long-untrodden
Ground.
IV.
Soon as cool
Ev'ning
clos'd the Sun-scorch'd
Day,
I left the
laughing Throng
in
thoughtful Mood;
And, where the
sacred Scene
before me lay,
Thus sigh'd, in aw'd Attention as I stood:
V.
"Ah me! that hoary
Time
's all-changing Pow'r,
Should this proud
Dome,
with stealing Pace, pervade;
Where erst
Devotion,
at th'inraptur'd Hour,
Thro'
Faith
's fix'd Glass her promis'd
Bliss
survey'd.
VI.
Ah pitying
Change!
the swift-wing'd Hours have brought,
To blast the Beauty of
devoted Stones;
Which once industrious the first
Founder
wrought;
A shrin'd
Sepulchre
to his honour'd
Bones!
VII.
Hence now no more shall pious
Pray'r
ascend,
Nor Sigh repentant from the guilt-gnaw'd Breast;
RELIGION here her solemn
Rites
shall end,
Nor more th' intruding
Spade
this Mould molest.
VIII.
Hence now no more the sadd'ning
Death-Bell's
Note,
Shall knell th'
Alarum
from this shatter'd Spire;
Nor
Song
harmonious swell the thrilling Throat,
With praiseful
Tribute
from th' adoring
Choir.
IX.
Where warbled
Melody,
harsh
Ravens
brood,
And dusky
Bats
that shun the lengthen'd Light;
And
Eloquence,
whence the rais'd
Rostrum
stood,
Has ceas'd her
Charms,
and soar'd her banish'd
Flight.
X.
Still
Silence
reigns where once the social
Croud
Responsive chaunted to the lauding
Lay;
Save when the solitary
Owl
screams loud,
Or thro' the dun
Ile
wings her flutter'd
Way.
XI.
This labour'd
Font
mov'd from its marble Base;
(Where once weak
Nature
lav'd her spotted Stain,
Tho' lower now, still stands a needed
Vase,
Whence chatt'ring
Sparrows
sip the roof-fall'n
Rain.
XII.
This high-arch'd
Altar,
from the rais'd Ascent,
Rears, awf'ly ruinous, its hallow'd Head;
Whence the swift
Spider,
on wish'd
Prey
intent,
Now sports her, salient, on the self-spun
Thread.
XIII.
Th' Angelic
Host,
in glittering
Gold
array'd,
Fictitious colour'd on its pannel'd Oak,
Amid the
Triumph
ranc'rous
Time
has made,
'Scapes not the
Tyrant
's sacreligious
Stroke.
XIV.
This Iron
Door,
fast wedg'd with ranking
Rust,
Scarce creaks an
Entrance
to the vaulted Cave:
Where, wrapt in Lead, the more ennobled
Dust
Of MAMMON's Vot'ries found a peaceful Grave.
XV.
A shad'wy
Pre-eminence
yet remains
In this lone Mansion of illustrious
Dead;
Tho'
Death,
regardless of their wide
Demesnes,
Urg'd the shun'd
Summons
with impartial
Dread.
XVI.
This mould'ring
Pillar,
on its sable
Base,
Supports a
Mon'ment
of superior
Art;
Time-unadorn'd
from ev'ry finish'd
Grace,
Industrious
Elegance
had deign'd t'impart.
XVII.
Ah what avails it! though ambitious rear'd,
T' aggrandize some honour'd
Heroe
's Fame;
Where martial
Weapons
pompously appear'd,
And sculptur'd
Sorrow
wept the
Warrior
's Name.
XVIII.
Like all the
Pageantry
of earth-born
Pride,
Like Night-still'd
Dew-drops
at the solar
Ray,
'T hath shrunk oblivious, and on ev'ry Side,
Nods totter'd
Ruin
from its pillar'd
Stay.
XIX.
Vain are the
Trophies
of a
Fun'ral Pile;
The motto'd
Monument,
or gilded
Bust:
Fame
's flatt'ring
Tale,
deep grav'd in golden
Stile,
Time
shall erase, and moulder into
Dust.
XX.
Devouring
Time!
thou immaterial
Space!
That swall'west
moving
what thy
Motion
breeds;
Whate'er of visible the
Eye
can trace,
Or soon, or late, thy destin'd
Prey
succeeds.
XXI.
The sleecy
Moments
from thy fruitful
Womb,
Tho' teem'd unnum'rous, short liv'd
Victims
fall;
Alike the rock-reard
Tow'r,
and trophied
Tomb,
Meet
Dissolution
at thy crumbling
Call.
XXII.
Thrice happy
he!
in calm
Contentment
's Dale,
Far from
Ambition,
and
Pride
's noxious Noise;
That peacef'lly journ'ying thro'
Life
's varied
Vale,
Ne'er war'd thy
Worth
on empty air-blown
Toys.
XXIII.
Not the wish'd
Wreath
of popular
Applause,
Nor all the
Joys
precarious
Wealth
e'er lent,
Afford so pleasing, so serene a
Pause,
As one reflected
Hour
in VIRTUE spent.
XXIV.
The tort'ring
Rack,
the
Faggot
's fiercest
Rage;
Nor all the
Engines
CRUELTY can devise,
Are half so horr'ble as time-wasted
Age,
When grim DEATH's
Terrors
meet th' enfeebled
Eyes.
XXV.
Thou
Stage
invisible! we all must tread;
Thy ever-varying Scenes anon shall end;
When, awf'ly rousing the long-slumber'd
Dead,
Th' ALL-RIGHTEOUS JUDGE, GREAT JESU shall descend.
XXVI.
Him
comp'nying from th' empyreal
Throne,
A
Choir
celestial shall in
Pomp
surround:
The
Thoughts
secreted of all
Hearts
be known;
And
Thou,
in vast
Eternity
be drown'd.
XXVII.
On that
Day,
joyous from their atom'd
Tomb,
The once-fam'd
Founders
of this
Dome
shall rise:
Their dust-blent
Bodies
from
Earth
's teeming
Womb,
Shall gain,
re-animate
the blissful
Skies.
ELEGIAC REFLECTIONS,
Wrote in the
VAULT
of
ST NICHOLAS' CHURCH, NEWCASTLE.
This
Vault
is said to have been the Place of Interment for the
Perey
Family, in past Ages, but without warrantable Authority, as the Shrine of
Henry
Earl of
Northumberland,
who was tumultuously massacred at
Cockslodge,
near
York,
in the 4th Year of the Reign of
Henry
VII. is asserted to have been in the North-East Corner, where the beautiful and magnificent Tomb of Sir
George Selby
lately stood. However, from a Parity of Circumstances, it must undoubtedly have been the Receptacle of some ancient and illustrious Family.
Mista Senum ac Juvenum densantur Funera, nullum
Saeva Caput
Proserpina
fugit.
HOR.
I.
H ERE, CONTEMPLATION! to thy
Vot'ry
's Aid,
Propitious, sooth the moralizing
Soul;
While
Melancholy,
from the sacred Shade,
Bids mournf'ly slow, the sullen Moments roll.
II.
As pensive thro' the scutcheon'd Iles I stray,
That high o'er-arch'd this hallow'd
Temple
bound,
Oft lead me on the long-untrodden Way,
Where sleeps fall'n
Grandeur
on the gloom-wrapt Ground.
III.
Pride
's Look elated, and her lofty Mien,
That Sight shall sadden from th'exulting Soar;
And
Envy
soften'd o'er the solemn Scene,
Shall drop a Tear from plaintive
Pity
's Lore.
IV.
Pale
Terror
trembles thro' each curdling Vein,
While harshly opes the iron-bolted Door;
While timid
Fancy
from the teeming Brain,
Glides fear-form'd
Phantoms
'long the letter'd Floor.
V.
How dread lowr's
Darkness
o'er the low-brow'd Cell!
Where listless
Silence
unmolested reigns;
Save when slow-sounding from the echoed
Bell,
Time
knells his
Hours
in mournf'ly pleasing Strains.
VI.
Save
Meditation!
when thy moral Muse,
From the shrin'd Porches of St
Nicholas'
Dome,
This
Vault
's illustrious Records would peruse,
And sigh her
Speculations
o'er the
Tomb.
VII.
Here sable
Solitude
has fix'd her Seat,
Sequester'd from the social Scenes of
Day;
And mild
Humil'ty
from this hoar Retreat,
Pours on the tear-thaw'd
Soul
her lev'ling Lay.
VIII.
DEATH, vengef'ly trampling on the Neck of
Pride,
Here grins terrific o'er his triumph'd
Spoil;
And
Horror
guards, with dread-imposing Stride,
Th'unnotic'd
Tenants
of this lonely Soil.
IX.
Ah how unnotic'd! since the Pomp of
Pow'r
No more shall wait them, on attendant Wing;
Nor more convey them to the scented Bow'r,
Where wantons
Pleasure
on the Lap of
Spring.
X.
Nor pamper'd LUXURY,
Fiend
of
Hell!
That wilef'ly poisons as she-pleasures
Sense;
Nor
Memry
's Wail, nor wild-ey'd
Sorrow's
Yell,
Shall rouse the Lethe-drench'd
Slumberers
hence.
XI.
The moulder'd
Bones
this loos'ning
Lead
unbares,
Wore once, perhaps, the purple
Robe
of
State;
E'er
Time
had silver'd o'er their honour'd
Hairs,
Or weeping
Elegy
bemoan'd their Fate.
XII.
Or mov'd some softer
Female
's fair Machinc,
Vibrated sweetly to the
Springs
of
Thought;
Tho' low lies now that lofty-bearing
Mien,
Vain
Value
once and prideful
Passion
taught.
XIII.
Ah me! how fall'n thy vermeil-tinted
Cheek,
Where
Beauty
bid her blushing
Roses
glow;
Where
Joy
in dimpled
Smiles
had learnt to speak,
Or salt
Tears
trickled to the Plaint of
Woe.
XIV.
E'en back retorted from the crumbling
Clay,
To
Silence
now, and sullen
Darkness
doom'd:
Loath'd
Vision
shrinks,—nor heeds the blasted Spray,
Where vivid once soul-thrilling
Charms
have bloom'd.
XV.
Say, fashion'd
Heav'n
her featur'd
Form
in vain,
To sleep the
Victim
of eternal
Death;
Or, settled on her
Soul
's etherial
Train,
The short-liv'd
Tenure
of moment'ry
Breath?
XVI.
Not so
Intuition,
from th'unbias'd
Mind
Shallows the
Sapience
of omniscient
Love;
Nor e'er rapt
Revelation
thus confin'd
Th' illimitable
Bounty
from above.
XVII.
His;—who, from
Chaos
and the
Climes
of
Night,
Where crude
Confusion
's jarring Atoms howl'd,
Hail'd new-born
Beauty
to the radiant
Light,
That glitter'd from the bright
Sun
's beamy
Gold.
XVIII.
Whose cloud-wrapt
Ways,
unsearchably secure,
None may unfold, or cast a
Glance
so high;
Nor pierce th'unbounded
Prospect
of his
Pow'r,
Save rapturing FAITH's perspicient
Eye.
XIX.
What then avails vain
Sophistry
's Debate,
That proudly soars 'bove boasted
Reason
's Ken;
That impiously intrudes the
Realms
of
Fate,
To pour
Deception
on the SONS OF MEN.
FRAGMENT,
Supposed to have been written among the
RUINS
of
TINMOUTH CASTLE, the
Remains
of which are now to be seen adjacent to the Mouth of the River
Tyne,
in
Comit. Northumb.
was, at the Suppression of
Monasteries,
in the Reign of
Henry
VIII. made a Place of
Defence
and
Fortification
against Foreign
Invasions.
—It is situated upon a very high Rock, inaccessible from the
East
and
North,
and is every Way so well adapted to the Purposes of War, as sufficiently demonstrates the
Military Skill
of our
Ancestors.
TINMOUTH CASTLE
and
MONASTERY, NORTHUMBERLAND.
**************** Lonely indeed!
'Tis
awful!
'tis superbly
ruinous!
How chang'd this
Scene!
***********
In Lethean
Years
long, long elaps'd,
The swift-wing'd
Bullet
of
Destruction,
Loud-lab'ring from the brazen
Cannon
's
Womb,
Pierc'd hence with
Light'ning
Speed, the perv'ous
Air,
And roar'd, re-ecchoed from yon murm'ring
Main,
Death
's thund'ring
Summons,
and sulphur'ous
Call.
How level'd now the lofty
Battlements!
The sky-topt
Towers
and rock-rear'd
Batteries!
Impregnable to Military
Art!
That ever and anon
Time
totters now,
And rushes down with dread
Precipitation!
********************
********** Uninterrupted
Solitude!
The sacred
Tenant
of this cheerless
Shade,
Sequester'd reigns in saddening
Silence,
'Amid the hoary
Heaps
and weed-wrapt
Ruins
Of yon old venerable
Monast'ry:
This famous
Monastery
of the
Benedictine Order,
consisted of a
Prior
and fifteen
Monks;
and was suppress'd 12th of
January,
in the 30th of
Henry
VIII. being valued at 397 l. 10 s. 5 d. per Annum.
Where
Times
unnumer'd
Offspring
ceaseless ply,
Hours, Minutes, Moments,
in their envious
Round,
Defacing the proud Dome
Devotion
rear'd,
With all its lonesome, long-untrodden
Iles,
By erring
Superstition
erst adorn'd,
With many a
Cross
and crumbling
Relique.
More solemn still the dread-imposing Gloom
This vaulted
Cloister
yields, pale
Terror
's Cell!
That traverses now the bramble-wild'ring
Waste,
Ev'n unappall'd, tho'
Cynthia
's silvering
Beam
Bright burnishes the
Hemisphere
of
Heav'n.
Ye blasted Efforts of aspiring
Art!
Piles! Pillars!
shatter'd with a Weight of
Years,
Afford, beneath your mould'ring
Arches'
Shade,
Unenvied, unmolested
Privacy,
To the most wretched of the
Sons
of
Woe,
Or suff'ring
Victims
of supernal
Fate,
High o'er whose dreading and distemper'd
Head
The
Angel
of
Affliction
torrents down
His fiercest
Vial
of unpit'ying
Wrath.
************** call forth
The saline
Tear
from sullen
Sorrow
's Eye,
And mournf'ly smooth the haggard, frightful
Frown
Of raven-vested
Melancholy.
Ah me! that deep
o'erwhelms,
oppresses dire,
Shocks, sinks, and saddens down my moping
Mind,
'Spite of FAITH's
Balm,
and ev'ry chearful
Ray
Of hope-inspiring CHRISTIANITY;
RELIGION's
Messenger!
last-born and best,
To rouse the sin-stain'd
Race
of
Adam
fall'n.
*****************
************
Charnel Ground!
A
Parish Church
formerly stood here, consecrated in the Year 1668, by Bishop
Cosyns;
and its Burial Ground is at this Day opened for the Interment of such of the deceas'd Inhabitants of
Shields, Tinmouth,
&c. as have chosen to sleep in so quiet a
Sepulchre,
and moulder away among such awful
Ruins.
This Place of
Skulls,
and low-laid
Mortals' Graves,
Where sable
Mem'ry
pours her mourning
Wail,
And slowly walks her moralizing
Round
'Mong letter'd
Stones
and marbled
Monuments!
Hark! from the leafy
Thicket
of yon
Grove,
What serenading
Chorister
awakes
The slumb'ring
Stillness
that surrounds me,
And far 'yond TINMOUTH's
Villa
distant sounds
To the dull, drowsy Ear of silent
Night?
'Tis PHILOMEL!
That sweetly thrills her melodizing
Notes,
(Love-lengthen'd) to the listening
Moon;
While, save herself, each feather'd
Songster
sleeps:
— Peace! warbling
Innocence!
Thy shrill-tun'd
Symphony
is lost on me,
Nor aught accords my solitary
Taste,
Save the nocturnal
Owl
's ill-omen'd Scream,
The day-skreen'd
Bat,
or croaking
Raven
's Cry,
Frequenting the obscene and ragg'd Retreats,
Where
Ruin
low'rs, and ven'ming
Vermin
dwell,
The baneful
Asp,
and poison-bloated
Toad,
Inseparable 'ssociats of DESPAIR,
That ev'n now maddens in my phrenzied
Brain,
And points the desp'rate, disobedient
Sting
Of Hell-suggested SUICIDE.
— Triumphing o'er me,
Save that the heav'n-born Beam of radiant
Hope,
Like this tall
Turret
's
A
Light-house,
maintained by the Company of Masters and Mariners, in
Newcastle upon Tyne,
for the Preservation of Ships in the Night Season.
air-illuming
Flame,
That blinks to the benighted
Mariner
A glimm'ring
Passage
o'er yon pathless
Wave,
Cheers, soothes, supports —
Caetera desunt.
ODE, FOR THE NATIVITY of the MESSIAH.
Jam nova Progenies Coelo demittitur alto.
VIRG.
I.
S EE,
Light
streaks the lengthening
Lawn!
See, th' auspicious
Morning
dawn,
That hail'd MESSIAH to our
Earth.
When
Bethlehem
's unnotic'd
Plains
Resounded to the
Angel Strains
That solemniz'd his BIRTH.
What Time the orient
Sun
arose,
To chase the
Shadows
of infernal
Night;
To beam
Destruction
on our
Foes,
And chear the
Nations
with celestial
Light.
Blow then the
Trump
of
Joy,
ye favour'd
Throng!
Since
JESU
's
BIRTH
demands our choral
Song.
II.
Long-wish'd he comes to solve
Sin
's
Chain,
T'erase the
Bond
of penal
Pain,
That hapless
Adam
's
Fall
had wrote;
To sheath the
Sword
by
Justice
wav'd,
Thro'
Sorrow
's
Pool
his
Paths
he lav'd,
And PARDON with his BLOOD has bought.
He shuns all
Pomp,
all
Pride
disdains,
No
Cradle Down
his Infant
Bosom
prest!
Rough
Oxen
heard his plaintive
Strains;
An
hay-stuff'd Manger
was his softest
Rest.
Blow then the
Trump
of
Joy,
ye favour'd
Throng!
Since
JESU
's
BIRTH
demands our choral
Song.
III.
And lo! his CHRISTIAN BANNER rear'd,
By
Millions
lov'd, by
Myriads
fear'd,
Still waves us to the
Rock
of
Rest;
Come,
Criminal,
that's smit by
Sin,
(He only bids th'
Unworthy
in)
Soft
Pity
's
Tears
bedew his
Breast.
He shall wash thine
Aethiop Stain,
In swan-plum'd
Innocence
thou shall appear,
When
Time
gives up his measur'd
Reign,
And vast ETERNITY begins her
Year.
Blow then the
Trump
of
Joy,
ye choral
Throng!
Since
JESU's BIRTH
demands our annual
Song.
MIRA's DESPAIR,
An
ELEGY.
Each
Moment
has its
Sickle,
emulous
Of
Time
's enormous
Scythe;
each
Moment
plays
Its little
Weapon
in the narrower Sphere
Of sweet
Domestic Comfort,
and cuts down
The fairest
Bloom
of sublunary
Bliss.
YOUNG.
I.
'T WAS the still Hour of
Vesper
's shining,
When MIRA sought a
Rock
's
Retreat;
Where oozy
Sea-Weeds
hang entwining,
And wept salt
Tricklings
at her
Feet.
II.
The wat'ry Waste,
Heav'us Concave
bounding,
'Gan now with lashing
Foam
to flow;
And dusky
Twilight
all-surrounding,
Mourn'd sympathetic to her
Woe.
III.
A while in sullen
Silence
musing,
She lay reflecting
Scenes
behind:
'Till tort'ring
Thought
Grief's Rage arousing,
Sigh'd thus her
Sorrows
to the
Wind:
IV.
"Ye clifted
Rocks!
with
Summits
soaring,
That high o'erhang this sandy
Plain;
Whence softer
Streams,
in
Cat'racts
roaring,
Conjoin the salt, caerulean
Main.
V.
Within your wave-worn, lone
Recesses,
Entomb a
Grief-distracted Maid;
Where
Terror
stalks with startling
Tresses,
And
Darkness
frowns a pitchy
Shade.
VI.
And thou, O
Deep!
that hear'st my
Pining,
(Th' unvailing
Fume
of phrenzied
Breath
)
'Twas conscious
Thou
and
Fate
combining,
That vail'd my
Damon
's Eyes in
Death.
VII.
Him howling
Storms,
of
Life
divested,
Have made some hungry
Fishes
Prey;
And from my
Eyes
for ever wrested,
On this Side
Time
's short-during
Day.
VIII.
With
Light'ning
's Speed ev'n now I'll follow
His
Shade
beyond the Reach of
Pain;
Ev'n now the heaving
Surge
I'll hollow,
And press the
Bottom
of the
Main.
IX.
So icy
Death,
Heav'n's awful
Envoy,
Long-wish'd, shall change my sick'ning
State;
And lend a fear-form'd fleeting
Convoy,
And waft me to the
Realms
of
Fate.
X.
She ceas'd—for
Night
's dark
Mantle
spreading,
Had sably veil'd the vaulted Sky;
Nor social Sound her
Sorrows
heeding,
Save mocking
Echo
made Reply.
XI.
DESPAIR her beauteous
Bosom
rending,
Had now suffus'd
Hope
's glimm'ring
Ray;
When from the rude
Rock
's
Summit
bending,
She desp'rate plung'd her headlong
Way.
LOVE, or that soft Interchange of Affection between the Sexes, so called, when it acts in due Subordination to the superior
Love,
Duty, Veneration, and Gratitude, owed
Him,
who, for wise Purposes, has implanted it in our Breasts, is productive of the most happy and beneficent Effects: But, on the other Hand, when the Possession, or Enjoyment of the Object belov'd is made the
summum bonum
of our Happiness, may be termed the Origin of much Evil, and an Enthusiasm which too often leads its unhappy Followers, (like
Mira
in the Elegy) to plunge themselves from the rocky Precipices of Despair into an Ocean of Ruin and irretrieveable Misery.
ODE TO PEACE
I.
H AIL-
Born of Heav'n!
thou
Source
of social
Store,
Britannia
hails thee to her Sea-girt
Shore,
With laurel'd
Wreaths
and
Conquest
crown'd;
Her
Rights
regain'd by
Vict'ry
's valiant
Band,
She bows obedient to thine Olive
Wand,
And courts firm
Concord
all around.
II.
Fan'd by
Ambition Gallia
's tow'ring
Pride,
Sought o'er her envicd
Empire
to preside,
And with despotic Rigour reign;
On
Indian Plains
the wide-waved
Banner
rear'd
Of hostile
Discord,
and in
Arms
appear'd
To discompose thy mild
Domain.
III.
But awful
Justice, Heav'n
's
Vice-gerent,
weigh'd.
The faithless Insult, and her Sword display'd,
As th' impartial
Balance
hung:
Forc'd collcagu'd
Monarchs,
drench'd in
Sorrow
's Brine,
To cringe as
Suppliants
at thy sacred
Shrine,
And
Slaughter
's Blood-stain'd
Bow
unstrung.
IV.
Then hence dire
War!
to savage
Shores
retreat,
Where
Tyranny
supports the
Tartar
's Seat,
Or
Slav'ry
clanks her
Ott'man
Chain:
Henceforth no more thy firm-embattled
Bands,
Shall stain with Crimson
Gore Europa
's Lands.
But lasting
Peace
irruptur'd reign.
TO HUMILITY.
H AIL
Humility, Virgin
pure!
From thy rosy rural
Bower,
Deign thy
Influence
t' impart:
From
Wisdom
's Lore thy
Lesson
lend,
That can'st
Delight
with
Knowledge
blend,
And bow the Iron-sinew'd Heart.
So shall for thee the plaited
Primrose
twine,
And scented
Sweet-Briar
deck thy sacred
Shrine.
EPIGRAPH, ON THE GRAVE, A BEAUTIFUL POEM, so called.
W HEN EPITAPHS, Etch'd upon
Brass,
Shall quit their worn
Charge,
and deeline;
And
Time
the tall Tablets erase,
Where
Fame
's gilded Flatt'ries shine:
The
Lines
of this
Truth-letter
's GRAVE,
(Where
Frailty
distills the sad
Tear,
)
Just Judgment
and
Merit
shall save,
And MEM'RY transmitted, revere.
FINIS.