ADVERTISEMENT. January, 1777. HAVING lately seen in print some poems ascribed to me which I never wrote, and some of my own inaccurately copied, I thought it would not be improper to publish, in this little volume, all the verses of which I am willing to be considered as the author. Many others I did indeed write in the early part of my life; but they were in general so incorrect, that I would not rescue them from oblivion, even if a wish could do it. Some of the few now offered to the public would perhaps have been suppressed, if in making this collection I had implicitly followed my own judgment. But in so small a matter, who would refuse to submit his opinion to that of a friend? It is of no consequence to the reader to know the date of any of these little poems. But some private reasons determined the author to add, that most of them were written many years ago, and that the greater part of the Minstrel which is his latest attempt in this way, was composed in the year 1768. ODE TO PEACE. I. 1. PEACE, heaven-descended maid! whose powerful voice Of jarring elements composed the noise : Far, far was hurl'd the void abyss along; To loftiest raptures tuned the heavenly lyre, And wide through night's dark desolate domain Oh whither art thou fled, Saturnian reign? Roll round again, majestic years! To break fell Tyranny's corroding chain, From Woe's wan cheek to wipe the bitter tears, Ye years, again roll round! Hark from afar what loud tumultuous sound, While echoes sweep the winding vales, Swells full along the plains, and loads the gales' Murder deep-roused, with the wild whirlwind's haste And roar of tempest, from her cavern springs, Her tangled serpents girds around her waist, Smiles ghastly-stern, and shakes her gore-distilling wings. I. 3. Fierce up the yielding skies The shouts redoubling rise: Earth shudders at the dreadful sound, And all is listening trembling round Torrents, that from yon promontory's head The mighty ocean's more majestic voice Drown'd in superior din is heard no more; The surge in silence sweeps along the foamy shore. II. 1. The bloody banner streaming in the air Bursts out by frequent fits th' expansive flame. The surging smoke o'er all the darken'd skies. II. 2. Involv'd in fire-streak'd gloom the car comes on; The mangled steeds grim Terror guides. His forehead writhed to a relentless frown, Aloft the angry power of battles rides : Grasp'd in his mighty hand A mace tremendous desolates the land; The mountain shrinks before its wasteful sweep; II. 3. How startled Phrenzy stares, Bristling her ragged hairs! Revenge the gory fragment gnaws; See, with her griping vulture-claws Imprinted deep, she rends the opening wound! Her trump terrific blows. Disparting from behind, the clouds disclose Of kingly gesture a gigantic form, That with his scourge sublime directs the whirling storm. III. 1. Ambition, outside fair! within more foul In caverns hatch'd, where the fierce torrents roll Yon naked waste survey; Where late was heard the flute's mellifluous lay; In loose array danced lightly o'er the flowers; And, waked by the soft-murmuring breeze of morn, The voice of cheerful labour fill'd the dale; And dove eyed Plenty smiled, and wav'd her liberal horn. III. 2. Yon ruins sable from the wasting flame But mark the once resplendent dome; The frequent corse obstructs the sullen stream, Save where out-stretch'd beneath yon hanging wall Pale Famine moans with feeble breath, What scenes of glory rise Before my dazzled eyes! Young Zephyrs wave their wanton wings, And melody celestial rings: Along the lilied lawn the nymphs advance, Flush'd with love's bloom, and range the sprightly dance: The gladsome shepherds on the mountain-side Exalt the festive note, Inviting Echo from her inmost grot- But ah! the landscape glows with fainter light, IV. 1. Illusions vain! Can sacred Peace reside Where sordid gold the breast alarms, Where cruelty inflames the eye of Pride, And Grandeur wantons in soft Pleasure's arms? Ambition! these are thine : These from the soul erase the form divine; These quench the animating fire, That warms the bosom with sublime desire. |