MISCELLANEOUS POETICAL EXTRACTS. THE PROGRESS OF POESY.-GRAY. A PINDARIC ODE. I. AWAKE, Æolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings! A thousand rills their mazy progress take; Through verdant vales and Ceres' golden reign: Now rushing down the steep amain, Headlong, impetuous see it pour; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar! Oh! sovereign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting shell! the sullen cares And frantic passions hear thy soft control. On Thracia's hills the lord of war Has curb'd the fury of his car, And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command: Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king Thee the voice, the dance obey, Temper'd to thy warbled lay; The rosy-crowned loves are seen With antic sports and blue-ey'd pleasures Slow, melting strains their Queen's approach declare; With arts sublime, that float upon the air; In gliding state she wins her easy way: O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love. II. Man's feeble race what ills await, Labor, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Muse? Night, and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, He gives to range the dreary sky: Till down the eastern cliffs afar, Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war. In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, The Muse has broke the twilight gloom, To cheer the natives' dull abode. And oft, beneath the odorous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves. Glory pursues, and generous shame, Th' unconquerable mind, and Freedom's holy flame. Woods that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Isles that crown the Ægean deep, Murmur'd deep a solemn sound: Left their Parnassus for the Latin plains, When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, O Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast. III. Far from the sun and summer-gale In thy green lap was Nature's darling* laid, * Shakspeare. What time, where lucid Avon stray'd, To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awful face; the dauntless child Stretch'd forth his little arms and smil'd. "This pencil take," she said, "whose colors clear Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal boy! Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears." Nor second he,* that rode sublime He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time; He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car Wide o'er the fields of glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, Their necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resounding pace.t Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed fancy hov'ring o'er, Scatters from her pictur'd urn, Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn! But ah! 'tis heard no more Oh lyre divine! what daring spirit Wakes thee now! though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion * Milton. † Expressive of the majestic sound of Dryden's verse. Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beneath the good how far-but far above the great. THANATOPSIS.-BRYANT. To him who, in the love of Nature, holds Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, To Nature's teachings, while from all around— Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course. Nor yet in the cold ground, Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim |