ELEGY I. CHILDREN of Fancy, whither are ye fled? Where have ye borne those hope-enliven❜d hours, That once with myrtle garlands bound my head, That once bestrew'd my vernal path with flowers? In yon fair vale, where blooms the beechep grove, Where winds the slow wave thro' the flowery plain, To these fond arms you led the tyrant, Love, With Fear and Hope and Folly in his train. My lyre, that, left at careless distance, hung Light on some pale branch of the osier shade, To lays of amorous blandishment you strung, And o'er my sleep the lulling music play'd. "Rest, gentle youth! while on the quivering breeze Slides to thine ear this softly-breathing strain; Sounds that move smoother than the steps of ease, And pour oblivion in the ear of pain. "In this fair vale eternal Spring shall smile, And Time unenvious crown each roseate hour; Eternal joy shall every care beguile, Breathe in each gale, and bloom in every flower. "This silver stream, that down its crystal way Frequent has led thy musing steps along, Shall, still the same, in sunny mazes play, And with its murmurs melodise thy song. "Unfading green shall these fair groves adorn; Those living meads immortal flowers unfold; In rosy smiles shall rise each blushing morn, And every evening close in clouds of gold. "The tender Loves that watch thy slumbering rest, And round thee flowers and balmy myrtles strew, Shall charm, thro' all approaching life, thy breast, With joys for ever pure, for ever new. "The genial power that speeds the golden dart, Each charm of tender passion shall inspire; With fond affection fill the mutual heart, And feed the flame of ever-young desire. "Come, gentle Loves! your myrtle garlands bring; The smiling bower with cluster'd roses spread; Come, gentle airs! with incense-dropping wing The breathing sweets of verpal odour shed. "Hark, as the strains of swelling music rise, How the notes vibrate on the fav'ring gale! Auspicious glories beam along the skies, And powers unseen the happy moments hail! "Extatie hours! so every distant day Like this serene on downy wings shall move; Rise crown'd with joys that triumph o'er decay, The faithful joys of Fancy and of Love." ELEGY II. AND were they vain, those soothing lays ye sung? Children of Fancy! yes, your song was vain; On each soft air though rapt Attention hung, And Silence listen'd on the sleeping plain. The strains yet vibrate on my ravish'd ear, And still to smile the mimic beauties seem, Though now the visionary scenes appear Like the faint traces of a vanish'd dream. Mirror of life! the glories thus depart Of all that youth and love and fancy frame, When painful Anguish speeds the piercing dart, Or Envy blasts the blooming flowers of fame. Nurse of wild wishes, and of fond desires, The prophetess of Fortune, false and vain, To scenes where Peace in Ruin's arms expires Fallacious Hope deludes her hapless train. Go, Siren, gothy charms on others try; With calm Repose and Silence let me dwell. Come happier hours of sweet unanxious rest, When all the struggling passions shall subside; When Peace shall clasp me to her plumy breast, And smooth my silent minutes as they glide. But chief, thou goddess of the thoughtless eye, Whom never cares or passions discompose, O, blest Insensibility, be nigh, And with thy soothing hand my weary eyelids Then shall the cares of love and glory cease, If these extol, or those debase a name. Shall touch the bosom which it charm'd be- Nor then, though Malice, with insidious guise Prevails in human more than savage haunts; And never yield that mercy which he wants. When dark Design invades the cheerful hour, And draws the heart with social freedom warm, Its cares, its wishes, and its thoughts to pour, Smiling insidious with the hopes of harm. Vain man, to other's failings still severe, Yet not one foible in himself can find; Another's faults to Folly's eye are clear, But to her own e'en Wisdom's self is blind. O let me still, from these low follies free, This sordid malice, and inglorious strife, Myself the subject of my censure be, And teach my heart to comment on my life. With thee, Philosophy, still let me dwell, My tutor❜d mind from vulgar meanness save; Bring Peace, bring Quiet to my humble cell, And bid them lay the green turf on my grave. ELEGY III. BRIGHT o'er the green hills rose the morning ray, The wood-lark's song resounded on the plain; Fair Nature felt the warm embrace of day, And smil'd thro' all her animated reign. When young Delight, of Hope and Fancy-born, His head on tufted wild thyme half-reelin'd, Caught the gay colours of the orient morn, And thence of life this picture vain design'd. "O born to thoughts, to pleasures more sublime Than beings of inferior nature prove! To triumph in the golden hours of time, And feel the charins of fancy and of love! "High-favour'd man! for him unfolding fair In orient light this native landscape smiles ; For him sweet Hope disarms the hand of Care, Exalts his pleasures, and his grief beguiles. "Blows not a blossom on the breast of Spring, Breathes not a gale along the bending mead, Trills not a songster of the soaring wing, But fragrance, health, and melody succeed. "O let me still with simple Nature live, My lowly field-flowers on her altar lay, No glittering wealth my tutor'd wishes crave; So Health and Peace be near my humble home, A cool stream murmur, and a green tree wave: "So may the sweet Euterpe not disdain At Eve's chaste hour her silver lyre to bring; The Muse of pity wake her soothing strain, And tune to sympathy the trembling string. "Thus glide the pensive moments, o'er the vale While floating shades of dusky night descend: Not left untold the lover's tender tale, Nor unenjoyed the heart-enlarging friend. "To love and friendship flow the social bowl! To attic wit and elegance of mind; To all the native beauties of the soul, The simple charms of truth, and sense refin'd. "Then to explore whatever ancient sage Studious from Nature's early volume drew, To chase sweet Fiction through her golden age, And mark how fair the sun-flower, Science, "When waves the grey light o'er the mountain's head, [ray; Then let me meet the morn's first beauteous Carelessly wander from my sylvan shed, And catch the sweet breath of the rising day. "Nor seldom, loitering as I muse along, [bore; Mark from what flower the breeze its sweetness Or listen to the labour-soothing song Of bees that range the thymy uplands o'er. "Slow let me climb the mountain's airy brow, The green height gain'd, in museful rapture Sleep to the murmur of the woods below, [lie, Or look on Nature with a lover's eye. "Delightful hours! O, thus for ever flow; Led by fair Fancy round the varied year: So shall my breast with native raptures glow, Nor feel one pang from folly, pride, or fear. "Firm be my heart to Nature and to Truth, Nor vainly wander from their dictates sage: So Joy shall triumph on the brows of youth, So Hope shall smooth the dreary paths of age." ELEGY IV. On! yet, ye dear, deluding visions stay! And vanish'd from the powerful rod of Care. So the poor pilgrim, who in rapturous thought Plans his dear journey to Loretto's shrine, Seems on his way by guardian seraphs brought, Sees aiding angels favour his design. Ambrosial blossoms, such of old as blew By those fresh founts on Eden's happy plain, And Sharon's roses all his passage strew: So Fancy dreams; but Fancy's dreams are vain. Wasted and weary on the mountain's side, His way unknown, the hapless pilgrim lies, Or takes some ruthless robber for his guide, And prone beneath his cruel sabre dies. Life's moraing-landscape gilt with orient light, Where Hope and Joy and Fancy hold their reign, [bright, The grove's green wave, the blue stream sparkling The blythe Hours dancing round Hyperion's wain, In radiant colours youth's free hand pourtrays, Then holds the flattering tablet to his eye; Nor thinks how soon the vernal grove decays, Nor sees the dark cloud gathering o'er the sky. Hence Fancy conquer'd by the dart of Pain, And wandering far from her Platonic shade, Mourns o'er the ruins of her transient reign, Nor unrepining sees her visions fade. Their parent banish'd, hence her children fly, The fairy race that fill'd her festive train; Joy tears his wreath, and Hope inverts her eye, And Folly wonders that her dream was vaín. A POEM TO THE MEMORY OF MR. HANdel. WRITTEN IN 1760. SPIRITS of music, and ye powers of song, While Freedom, drooping o'er Euphrates' stream, Ah! where shall now the Muse fit numbers find? What accents pure to greet thy tuneful shade, Those airs' that, breathing o'er the breast a Led amorous Echo down the long, long vale, groves, Ah! where were then your long-lov'd Muses fled When Handel breath'd no more?-aud thou, sweet queen, That nightly wrapt thy Milton's hallow'd ear Cold-hearted Death! his wanly-glaring eye Nor Virtue's smile attracts, nor Fame's loud trump Can pierce his iron car, for ever barr'd cliffs, The traveller's feeble lay. To court fair Fame, Ere long, the heart, that heaves this sigh to thee, Shall beat no more,! ere long, on this fond lay Thy sacred strain, shall the hoar warrior spare; Sublime, above the mortal bounds of Earth, Through Bethoron proclaims the approaching And, taught by seraphs, frame her song for thee.I see the brave youth lead his little band, With toil and hunger faint; yet from his arm The British Henry, with his way-worn troop, Whose spirit breathes through all his smiling Music and love-yet, Handel, raise the strain. The harmony of Heaven. Hail sacred choir ! [ear Yet, hark! what pleasing sounds invite mine Judas Maccabeus. The blazing Sun, from many a golden shield The hero comes-'Tis boundless mirth and song, O master of the passions and the soul, O'er Jeptha's votive maid when the soft lute O, longer than this worthless lay can live! 6 Chorus of youths, in Judas Maccabeus. 7 See the Oratorio of Samson. THE ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. EPISTLE 1. TO GENERAL CRAUFURD. WRITTEN AT BELVIDERE. 1763. WHERE is the man, who, prodigal of mind, The sightless herd sequacious, who pursue From Belvidere's fair groves, and mountains O sacred guide! preceptress more sublime Who knows of Nature, and of man no more Something of men these sapient drones may know, Of men that liv'd two thousand years ago. If to one object, system, scene confin'd, 'Twas thus St. Robert, in his lonely wood, Forsook each social duty-to be good. Thus Hobbes on one dear system fix'd his eyes, And prov'd his nature wretched-to be wise. Each zealot thus, elate with ghostly pride, Adores his God, and hates the world beside. Though form'd with powers to grasp this various ball, Gods! to what meanness may the spirit fall! Powers that should spread in reason's orient ray, How are they darken'd, and debarr'd the day! When late, where Tajo rolls his ancient tide, Reflecting clear the mountain's purple side, Thy genius,Craufurd, Britain's legions led, And fear's chill cloud forsook each brightning head, By nature brave, and generous as thou art, Say did not human follies vex thy heart? Glow'd not thy breast indignant, when you saw The dome of murder consecrate by law? Where fiends, commission'd with the legal rod, In pure devotion, burn the works of God. O change me, powers of Nature, if ye can, Is Nature, all benevolent, to blame O that the world were emptied of its slaves! Yet though each vale a deeper verdure yields Than Arno's banks, or Andalusia's fields, Though many a tree-crown'd mountain teems with ore, Though flocks innumerous whiten every shore, See countless worlds of insect beings share Th' unenvied regions of the liberal air! In the same grove what music void of strife! Heirs of one stream what tribes of scaly life! See earth, and air, and fire, and flood combine Of general good to aid the great design! Where Ancon drags o'er Lincoln's lurid plain, Like a slow snake, his dirty-winding train, Where fogs eternal blot the face of day, And the lost bittern moans his gloomy way; As well we might, for unpropitious skies, The blameless native with his clime despise, As him who still the poorer lot partakes Of Biscay's mountains, or Batavia's lakes. Yet look once more on Nature's various plan! Behold, and love her noblest creature man! She, never partial, on each various zone, Bestow'd some portion to the rest unknown, By mutual interest meaning thence to bind In one vast chain the commerce of mankind. Behold, ye vain disturbers of an hour! Ye dupes of factiou! and ye tools of power! Poor rioters on life's contracted stage! Behold, and lose your littleness of rage! Throw envy, folly, prejudice behind! And yield to Truth the empire of the mind. Immortal Truth! O from thy radiant shrine Where light created first essay'd to shine; Where clustering stars eternal beams display, And gems ethereal drink the golden day; To chase this moral, clear this sensual night, O shed one ray of thy celestial light! Teach us, while wandering thro' this vale below We know but little, that we little know. One beam to mole-ey'd Prejudice convey, Let Fride perceive one mortifying ray. Thy glass to fools, to infidels apply, And all the dimness of the mental eye. Plac'd on this shore of Time's far-stretching bourn, With leave to look at Nature and return; So thought the sacred sage, in whom I trust, |