« EelmineJätka »
Or calls his mate, and as be sweetly sings,
and as he sweetly sings, Now sit exalted in those realms of rest Soars in the sup-bram, wavering on his wings. Where virtue reigns, and innocence is blest, The ruthless fowler, with unerring aim,
Relentless death's inevitable Joom
Ere the first tender down o'erspread your chin,
Cropt by a virgin's hand, remains confest
Thus the fair youth, when Hear'n requir'd bis Fate comes unseen, and snaps the thin spun
Sunk, sweetly smiling, in the arms of death; He dies, and sleeps forgutten with the dead. For endless joys exebanging endless strife,
And bloom'd renew'd in everlasting life.
FROM CATULLUS. 1738.
TO A FRIEND IN YORKSHIRE
Happy the Briton, whom indulgent fate
Has fix'd securely in the middle state, Lesbia's sparrow is no more ;
The golden mean, where joys for ever flow, Late she wont her bird to prize
Nor riches raise too high, nor wants depress too Dearer than her own bright eyes.
low : Sweet it was and lovely too,
Stranger to faction, in his calm retreat, And its mistress well it knew.
Far from the noise of cities, and the great, Nectar from her lips it sipi,
His days, like streams that feed the vivid grass, Here it hopt, and there it skipt:
And give fair flowers to flourish as they pass, Oft it wanton'd in the air,
Waving their way, in sacred silence flow, Chirping only to the fair :
And scarcely breath a murmur as they go. Oft it lull'd its head to rest
No hopes, nor fears his steady mind can rex, On the pillow of her breast.
No schemes of state, or politics perplex: Now, alas ! it chirps no more :
Whate'er propitious Providence has sent All its blandishments are o'er :
He holds sufficient, and bumself content. Death has summon'd it to go
Though no proud columns grace his marble hall, Pepsive to the shades below;
Nor Claude nor Guido animale the wall; Dismal regions ! from whose bourn
Blest who with sweet securics can find, No pale travellers return.
In health of body, and in peace of mind, Death ! relentless to destroy
His easy moments pass without offence Al that's form'd for love or joy!
In the still joys of rural innocence. Joy is vanish’d, love is fled,
Such was the life our ancestors admir'd, For my Lesbia's sparrow's dead,
And thus illustrious from the world retird: Lo, the beauteous nymph appears
Thus to the woodland shades my friend repairs Languishingly drown'd in tears !
With the lov'd partner of his joys and cares,
And smile each light anxiety away:
In cheerful converse sweetly form’d to please,
With wit goodgatur'd, and polite with ease :
Her native goodness wins upon your heart.
Not fond of state, nor eager of control,
Her face reflects the beauties of her soul, Man cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down.
Such charms still bloom when youth shall fade JOB, xiv. 2.
And the brief roses of the face decay. Short and precarious is the life of man ;
O! would prop tious Hear'n fulfil my prayer, The line seems fathomless, but proves a span; (The bliss of man is Providence's care) A youth of follies, an old-age of sorrow;
Such be the tranquil tenour of my life, Like flowers to day we bloom, we die to morrow, And such the virtues of my future wife ; Say then, what specious reasons can we give, With her in calm, domestic leisure free, And why this longing, foyd desire to live?
Let me possess serene obscurity; . Blind as we are to ubat the Lord ordains, In acts of meek benevolence delight, We stretch our troubles, and prolong our pains. And to the widow recompense ber mite. (end,
But you, blest genjus, dear departed shade, Thus far from the crowds,not thoughtless of my Now wear a chaplet that sball never fade; With reading, musing, writing, and a friend,
May silent pleasures every hour delude
The full persuasion, and the true delight In sweet oblivion of solicitude.
Of having acted by the rules of right,
Could to thy soul a conscious calm impart,
'Twas this thy faith confirm'd, thy joy refin'd, ON A LADY'S SINGING, AND PLAY.Aud spoke sweet solace to thy troubled mind; ING UPON THE HARPSICHORD. This turn'd to silent peace each rising dread,
And sooth’d the terrours of the dying bed. “Say, Zephyr, what music enchants the gay May we like thee in piety excel, plains ?
Believe as stedfastly, and act as well ; As soft and as sweet as the nightingale's strains;
Cleave to the good and from the bad depart, My heart it goes pitapatee with a bound,
And wear the scriptures written in our heart ;? And gently transported beats time to the sound. Then shall we live, like thee, serenely gay, “ O say, is it Sappho that touches the strings ? And every inoment calmly pass away : And some song of the Syrens' you bear on your
And when this transitory life is o'er, wings?"
And all these earthly vanities no more, Said Zephyr, and whisper'd distinctly the lays, Shall go where perfect peace is only found, “'lis Belinda that sings, and Belinda that And streams of pleasure flow, an everlasting plays.”
round. Ah! swains, if you value your freedom, be.
September 3, 1743. ware,
[fair ; You hear her sweet voice, and I know that she's She's fair and inconstant; and thus with her art, She will ravish your ears to inveigle your heart.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE TIIE
COUNTESS OF UXBRIDGE,
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE EARL, HER ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT
HUSBAND. IION. THE EARL OF UXBRIDGE.
Cease, cease illustrious partner of his bed,
O ! cease the tributary tear to shed:
Mourn not for him whom God has given to die Quem tu, Dea, tempore in omni
From earthly vanities to heavenly jov; Omnibus ornatum voluisti excellere rebus.
These are the greatest honours we can give,
To mark his ways, and as he liv'd to live.
Still bloom in goodness as you bloom'd before ;
And still continue friend of human kind. Then gradual streams effulgency of day,
Be this your chief delight, for 'tis the best, Till more serenely, with a mild decline,
With ready alms to succour the distress'd ; Regretted sinks, in other worlds to shine: . To clothe the naked and the hungry feed,
Thus from the world, an age of honour past, Nor pass a day without some gracious deed, Pride of the present, glory of the last,
These acts are grateful to Jehovah's eye, Retir'd great Uxbridge to the blest abode,
For these the poor shall bless you ere they die : To live for ever with the saints of God;
These bide aur sins, these purchase solid gain, 'There in celestial lustre to appear,
And these shall bring you to your Lord again. And share the wages of his labours here.
September 6, 1743. When the last trump shall rouse the dead that
sleep Entomb'd in earth, or buried in the deep; When worlds dissolving on that awful day,
TO LAURA, 1742. And all the elements shall melt away;
Witu generous wishes let me greet your ear, When every word shall be in judgment brought,
Wishes which Laura may with safety bear.
May all the blessings to your portion fall,
The wise can want, for you deserve them all :' More grateful than the incens'd sacrifice:
Soft joy; sweet ease, and ever-blooming health, The gladden'd widow's blessing shall be heard, And prayers in fervency of soul preferr'd. rvey
Calmness of mind, and competence of wealth;
Whate'er th' Almighty Father can bestow, The Lord shall bless thee, and well pleas'd sur
To crown the happiness of man below, The tears of orphans' wip'd by thee away.
And when with all those virtues, all those charms, What! but a virtue resolutely just,
You deign to bless some happy husband's arms; Firm to its purpose, steady to its trust,
· His lordship gave 2000 I. to the Foundling . It is remarkable that his lordship could reHospital; 1000 1. to St. George's, Hyde-Parkpeat, memoriler, all the Gospels, the Psalms, Corner; and near another 1000). to the neigh- and other considerable parts of the Old and New bouring parishes where he lived.
Testament, VOL. XVI.
May he in every manly grace excel,
Lo! tempestuous winter near
Stains the evening of the year ;
Warble no soft tales of love:
All are wither'd, all are dead:
When my Laura went away;
When she comes, again they'll rise,
Blooming where she points her eyes,
Hark! I hear a sound froin far,
Clanking arms, the din of war, Come, Laura, joy of rural swains,
Dreadful music to my ear! O! come, and bless our cheerless plains;
All was peace when you was here. The skies still drooping mourn in showers,
Now rebellion shakes the land, No meadows bloom with bright-ey'd flowers,
Murder waves her bloody hand; . No daisies spring, no beeches bud,
High in air their banners fly, No linnets warble in the wood;
Dreadful tumulis rend the sky: Cold winter checks with blasts severe
Rise, my fair, and bring with thec The early-dawning of the year.
Softer, sweeter, harmony: Come, lovely Laura, haste away,
All my doubts and fears remove, Your smiles will make the village gay;
Give me freedom, give me love;
Discord when you come will cease,
And in my bosom all be peace.
TO HIS GRACE
DR. THOMAS HERRING,
LORD ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, ON HIS SICK"
NESS AND RECOVERY.
June 25, 1753.
Serus in cælum redeas, diuque
Lætus intersis populo Britanno. Hoe
While rosy health abounds in erery breeze,
Smiles in the flowers, and blossoms in the trees, Such as Laura's cheeks display,
Matures the fields, and in the fountain flows, When she steals my heart away.
Breathes through all life, and in all nature Add carnation's varied hue,
glows; Muisten’d with the morning dew:
Why droops Aurelius by sharp pains opprest, To the woodbine's fragrance join
| Whose danger saddens every virtuous breast Sprigs of snow-white jessamine.
| Enough, enough has Heav'n's afflicting hand Add no more; already I
With arms and earthquakes terrified the land: Shall, alas! with envy die,
On foreign plains has stream'd the British This to see my rival blest,
blood, Sweetly dying on her breast.
And British heroes perish'd in the flood :
Fair in the bloom of all his virtues, died.
| Ah! generous master of the candid mind,
Light of the world, and friend of human kind,
Leare us not cause our sorrow's to renew,
Nor tear the falling of the state in you. If you ever beard my prayer,
I see, I see conspicious how you stood, Hear it now, ivdulgent fair;
And dauntless crush'd rebellion in the bud; Let your swain no longer mourn,
With Ciceronian energy divine, But return, my fair, return,
Dashing the plots of fraudful Catiline.
Your righteous zeal the brave Brigantes warm'd, || Enough has Winter's hand severe
Chastis'd this dreary coast,
And chill'd the tender dawning year
With desolating frost : .
Give but thy vital beams to play, Waft ba!my fragrance with your temperate
These ice-wrought scenes will melt away; wings,
And, mix'd in sprightly dance, the blooming The grace, the glory of the church restore,
hours And save the friend, the father of the poor.
Will wake the drowsy Spring, the Spring awake And lo ! our prayers, with fervency preferrd,
the flowers. Rise sweet as incense, and by Heav'n are heard :
Let Health, gay daughter of the skies, The genial season, with refreshing rains,
On Zephyr's wings descend, Bright-beaming mornings, health-exhaling plains,
And scatter pleasures, as she flies, And pure etherial gales, conspire to heal
Where Surry's downs extend : Our public father, for the public weal.
There Herring wooes her friendly power ; Oh ! by kind Providence to Britain given,
There may she all her roses shower; Long may you live, and late revisit Heaven;
en; | To heal that shepherd all her balms einploy, Continue still to bless us with your stay,
So will she sooth our fears, and give a nation joy. Nor wish for Heav'n till we have learnt the way. So by your pattern shall our years be spent
The grateful seasons, circling fast, In sweet tranquillity, and gay content ;
Reviving suns restore, So shall we rise immortal from the dust,
But life's short spring is quickly past,
And blooms, alas! no more;
We reach the winter of our days,
ki virtue emulate the bless'd above, TO MRS. HERRING.
| And like the Spring display benevolence and love,
WITH FOUR ODES ON THE SEASONS.
SINCE your goodness poetical tribute demands,
ODE TO SUMMER.
BY A GENTLEMAN OF CAMBRIDGE.
Hall, gentle Summer, to this isle ! The beams of your eyes, and the bloom of your
Where Nature's fairest beauties smile, face : The bright glowing ardour of Summer I find
And breathe in every plain;
'Tis thine to bid each flower display, Express'd in your friendly, benevolent mind : As bountiful Autumn with plenty is crown'd,
And open to the eye of day Thus calm you distribute your blessings around :
The glories of its reign. But with you how shall I cold Winter compare ?
| While yon few sheep enjoy the breeze, Your wit is as piercing and keen as the air:
That softly dies upon the trees, Thus you furnish with emblems whenever I sing
And rest beneath the shade;
| This pipe, which Damon gave, shall raise
And ask the Muse's aid.
Happy the man whose vessel glides
Lo! Winter comes, in fogs array'd, Safe and unhurt by passion's tides,
With ice and spangled dews; Nor courts the gusts of praise !
To dews, and fogs, and storms, be paid He sails with even, steady pace,
The tribute of the Muse. While virtue's full-blown beauties grace
Each flowery carpet Nature spread
Is vanish'd from the eye;
No Philomel is nigh.
Can soothing ease impart;
Relieve the wounded heart.)
No blushing rose unfolds its bloom,
No tender lilies blow,
To scent the air with rich perfume,
Or grace Lucinda's brow.
Th’ indulgent Father who protects
The wretched and the poor; The cold inclemency of Winter cbeer,
With the same gracious care directs And make th’ Autumnal months the mildest of ' The sparrow to our door. the year.
Dark, scowling tempests rend the skies
And clouds obscure the day;
His genial warmth the Sun denies,
And sheds a fainter ray.
Yet blame we not the troubled air,
Or seek defects to find; Forests of vegetable gold!
[tween | For Power Omnipotent is there, How mix'd the many chequer'd shades be And walks upon the wind. The tawny, mellowing hue, and the gay vivid
Hail every pair whom love unites
In wedlock's pleasing ties;
That blessing to the wise!
Though yon pale orb no warmth bestows,
And storms united meet;
It seems the Sabbath of the year:
With unextinguish'd heat.
Such is of well-spent life the time,
TO RIS GRACE THE LORD ARCHBISHOP OF
CANTERBURY. And Summer's full-blown pride no more, l'e gains pacific Autumn, mild and bland. Thanks to the generous hand that plac'd me And dauntless braves the stroke of Winter's pal
here, sy'd band.
Fast by the fountains of the silver Cray,
Who leading to the Thames his tribute clear, -
Through the still valley winds his secret way.
Yet from his lowly bed with transport sees
In fair exposure noblest villas rise,
And spires that point with reverence to the Where due rewards on virtue are bestow'd,
O woodland hills ! that gently rising swell;
Where peace and joy and rich abundance
dwell : BY A GENTLEMAN OF CAMBRIDGE.
How shall my slender reed your praise resound
In numbers worthy of the polish'd ear? From mountains of eternal snow,
What powers of strong expression can be found And Zembla's dreary plains;
To thank the generous hand that plac'd me Where the bleak winds for ever blow,
here: 1 And frost for ever reigns ;