"Ah me! I fear in borrow'd shape Thou com'st, a base deceiver; Perhaps the devil, to tempt the faith Of orthodox believer. "For once my hand, at masquerade, His form as thine, but holier sounds "He told me vows no more were made To senseless stone and wood, But adoration paid alone To saints of flesh and blood, "That rosy cheeks, and radiant eyes, And tresses like the morn, Were given to bless the present age, And light the age unborn: "That maids, by whose obdurate pride Of leading apes in Hell. "Respect the first command,' (he cried,) 'It's sacred laws fulfil, And well observe the precept given "Thus spoke, ah yet I hear him speak! She ceas'd-the monk in shades of night And superstition's clouds dissolv'd TO A YOUNG LADY, A VERY GOOD ACTRESS. POWERFUL is beauty, when to mortal seats From Heaven descends the heaven-created good, When fancy's glance the fairy phantom meets, Nymph of the shade, or Naiad of the flood. So blooms Celena, daughter of the skies, Queen of the joys romantic rapture dreams, Her cheeks are summer's damask rose, her eyes Steal their quick lustre from the morning's beams. Her airy neck the shining tresses shade; She joins the mighty charms of magic spells. Man, hapless man, in vain destruction flies, With wily arts th' enchantress nymph pursues; To varying forms, as varying lovers rise, Shifts the bright Iris of a thousand hues. Behold th' austere divine, opprest by years, Colics, and bulk, and tithes engend❜red care; The sound of woman grates his aching ears, Of other woman than a scripture fair. Sudden she comes a Deborah bright in arms, Or wears the pastoral Rachel's ancient mien; And now, as glow gay-flushing eastern charms, He sighs like David's son for Sheba's queen. To Change the China trader speeds his pace, Nor heeds the chilly North's unripening dames; 'Tis her's with twinkling eyes, and lengthen'd face, And pigmy foot, to wake forgotten flames. Too well inform'd, relates to wand'ring swains Enters a sire, by infant age rever'd; Other than ale and jocund puns inspire. A Grecian form the raptur'd patriot awes, Lycurgus, founder of majestic laws. I see the lips as breathing life, he cries, Of beauty's sun emerging from the night. Nor music floating on the magic, air. Reluctant ghosts and stubborn elves obey: I ceas'd; the virgin came in native grace, As once in Andover's autumnal grove, TO AN ACCOMPLISHED LADY. IN THE MANNER OF WALLER. O NYMPH! than blest Pandora honour'd more, What gods to grace thee lavish all their store! READING JULIA WITH TEARS, DURING A HARD FROST For heart-expanding joys and smiling fates. To call the Muse to Thames' frozen glades, A flower yourself, the fairest of the feast. In wonder's silent prayer he blesses you: Your infants there reflecting round the board, Materual graces while his eye approves ; One tear to rapture give!-then sit ador'd The gentle mother of the smiles and loves. 'See Milton's Paradise Lost, Book v. from line 303. THOUGH to Hymen's gay season belong O listen, fair Stella, to truth. To the soft serenade at your bower, To his vigils in midnight's still hour. With morning's gay opening rays: Smiling days hung with tempests and night; O! welcome securer delight. O! welcome, in nature's own dress, To redeem fortune's wrongs on mankind. To gild the wan aspect of sorrow, To cheer the meck eyes of the poor. When your virtues shall mix with the skies, And enlighten posterity's days. Every virtue deriv'd to your blood SONG. No gandy Rubens ever dare With flaunting genius, rosy loves, In bashful night the bashful fair. VERSES WRITTEN AFTER PASSING THROUGH FINDON, SUSSEX, 1768. ADDRESSED TO THE REV. Mr. WoodDESON, OF KINGSTON UPON THAMES. WOODDESON! these eyes have seen thy natal earth; Thy Findon, sloping from the southern downs, Have blest the roof ennobled by thy birth, And tufted valley, where no ocean frowns. Thou wert not born to plough the neighbouring main, Or plant thy greatness near ambition's throne, Or count unnumber'd fleeces on thy plain: -The Muses lov'd and nurs'd thee for their own! And twin'd thy temples here with wreaths of worth, [morn, And fenc'd thy childhood from the blights of And taught enchanting song, and sent thee forth To stretch the blessing to an age unborn: Best blessing!-what is pride's unwieldy state? What awkward wealth from Indian oceans given? What monarchs nodding under empires' weight, If science smile not with a ray from Heaven? Witness yon ruins, Arundel's high tower, And Bramber, now the bird of night's resort! Your proud possessors reign'd in barbarous power; The war their business, and the chase their sport; "Till there a minstrel, to the feast preferr'd, With Cambrian harp, in Gothic numbers charm'd, Enlighten'd chiefs grew virtuous as they heard-The sun of science in its morning warm'd.How glorious, when it blaz'd in Milton's light, And Shakespear's flame, to full meridian day! Yet smile, fair beam! though sloping from that height, Gild our mild evening with a setting ray. TO A LADY. THE simple swain, where Zembla's snows The author of these poems had been educated under this gentleman, for whom he ever retained the most affectionate regard. Mr. Wooddeson was, in truth, one of those amiable beings whom none could know without loving.-To the abilities of an excellent scholar was united a mind so candid, so patient, so replete with universal benevolence, that it glowed in every action. His life was an honour to himself, to religion, to human nature. He preserved to his death such a simplicity of manners as is rarely to be met with. He judged of the world by the standard of his own virtuous heart; and few men who had seen such length of days ever left it so little acquainted with it. Not once conceives that Sun to rise As weak my thoughts respecting thee STANZAS. Where more is meant than meets the ear. THE bird of midnight swell'd her throat, To sweet but solemn sound: She stay'd to hear the mourner sing; TO A YOUNG LADY, WHO OBJECTED TO SUP WITH A PARTY OF BOTH. O FAR from Caroline, so soft a maid, d; From harmless smiles that wait on gentle youth. Too long the lovers for an empty fair Shall once again the Grecian lyre be strung, Love's lambent fire that beams from virtue's rays, Wr A DREAM. In bridal cake beneath her head, Around her spectres shook their chains, Before her now the buck, the beau, The squire, the captain trips; For some she felt her bosom pant, To all she gave enchanting smiles, She dreamt (for magic charms prevail'd, She kist a sleeping parson. She dreamt-but, O rash Muse! forbear, Yet blest above the gods is he Who devour'd in their reach, all the fruit they could meet, The good, bad, indifferent, the bitter and sweet: But Garrick climb'd high to a plentiful crop, Then, Heavens! what vagaries he play'd on the How, now on the loose twigs, and now on the top! [tight, He stood on his head, and then bolted upright! All features, all shapes, and all passions he tried; He danc'd, and he strutted, he laugh'd, and he cried, [side! He presented his face, and he show'd his backThe noble, the vulgar, flock'd round him to see What feats he perform'd in the mulberry-tree: He repeated the pastime, then open'd to speak, But Johnson below mutter'd strophes of Greek, While Garrick proclaim'd-such a plant never grew, So foster'd by sun-shine, by soil, and by dew, The palm-trees of Delos, Phoenicia's sweet grove, The oaks of Dodona, though hallow'd by Jove, With all that antiquity shows to surpass us, Compar'd to this tree, were mere shrubs of Par[laid, nassus. That was fish, flesh, and custard, good claret, and It compris'd every flavour, was all, and was each, Was grape, and was pine-apple, nectarine and [told, peach; Nay, he swore, and his audience believ'd what he That under his touch it grew apples of gold.Now he paus'd!-then recounted its virtues again[grain: 'Twas a wood for all use, bottom, top, bark, and It would saw into seats for an audience in full pits, Into benches for indges, episcopal pulpits; Into chairs for philosophers, thrones too for kings, Serve the highest of purposes, lowest of things; Make brooms to mount witches, make May-poles for May-days, And boxes, and ink-stands, for wits and the ladics. His speech pleas'd the vulgar, it pleas'd their THE MULBERRY TREE. superiors, [riors A TALE. By Johnson stopt short,--who his mighty posteApplied to the trunk-like a Sampson, his haunFOR London's rich city, two Staffordshire swains, ches [and shook branches! Hight Johnson, hight Garrick, forsaking their Shook the roots, shook the summit, shook stem, plains, [by his tomb Al was tremour and shock!-now descended in Reach'd Shakespeare's own Stratford, where flows showers [blighted flowers! An Avon, as proudly as Tyber by Rome. Wither'd leaves, wither'd limbs, blighted fruits, Now Garrick, (sweet imp too of Nature was he,) The fragments drew critics, bards, players along, Would climb and would eat from his mulberry-Who held by weak branches, and let go the strong; E'en Garrick had diopt with a bough that was tree; Yet as Johnson, less frolic, was taller, was older, He reach'd the first boughs by the help of his shoulder; [weather, Where, shelter'd from famine, from bailiffs, and Bards, critics, and players sat crowded together "Here's rubbish enough, till my homeward return, TO A LADY. YES; wedlock's sweet bands were too blest, in her lover If virtue her likeness could find, What joy to receive all the good you impart, Yet more of thyself in the daughter still trace, Such bliss rivals Heaven-yet what grief, what disgrace, Were riot's low follower thy lot, [chase, Were he whose loud pleasures are wine and the What misery to hear, without daring reply, Still calling the tear of reproach to thy eye, ON AN ASIATIC LADY. O YOU who sail on India's wealthy wave, Of gems and gold who spoil the radiant east; Roll the blue languish of their humid eye; Would wealth's drowsy heir, without spark of Less yielding souls confess this eastern fair, Heaven's fire, [fate, Enshrin'd in his dulness completely, Yet rev'rence his image below? Would slaves to a court, or to faction's banditti, So proud in their chains of the court and the city, 'Plato's fable is, that man and woman originally were one being, divided afterwards by Jupiter for their punishment; that each part, in perpetual search of the other, never recovers happiness till their reunion. And lightning melts the heart that milder fires Of gods, enamour'd with a mortal dame, Sublimer sense, and sprightlier wit to please, That Phoebus gave; he gave the voice and lyre, That warble sweeter than the spicy breeze, He gave what charms meridian suns inspire; What precious rays from light's pure fountain stream, What warm the diamond's blaze and ruby's flaming beam. |