Imágenes de página
PDF

But if, at first, her virgin fear

Oh! how I love with thee to walk,
Should start at love's suspected name,

And listen to thy whisper'd talk,
With that of friendship soothe her ear –

Which innocence and truth imparts,
True love and friendship are the same.

And melts the most obdurate hearts.

A thousand shapes you wear with ease,
And still in every shape you please.

Now wrapt in some mysterious dream,
SONG.

A lone philosopher you seem ;

Now quick from hill to vale you fly, For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove

And now you sweep the vaulted sky; An unrelenting foe to love,

A shepherd next, you haunt the plain, And when we meet a mutual heart,

And warble forth your oaten strain. Come in between, and bid us part ?

A lover now, with all the grace

Of that sweet passion in your face ; Bid us sigh on from day to day,

Then, calm'd to friendship, you assume And wish, and wish the soul away; .

The gentle-looking Hartford's bloom, Till youth and genial years are flown,

As, with her Musidora, she And all the life of life is gone ?

(Her Musidora fond of thee)

Amid the long withdrawing vale, But busy, busy, still art thou,

Awakes the rivall'd nightingale. To bind the loveless joyless vow,

Thine is the balmy breath of morn, The heart from pleasure to delude,

Just as the dew-bent rose is born: To join the gentle to the rude.

And while meridian fervours beat,

Thine is the woodland dumb retreat ; For once, O Fortune, hear my prayer,

But chief, when evening scenes decay, And I absolve thy future care;

And the faint landscape swims away, All other blessings I resign,

Thine is the doubtful soft decline, Make but the dear Amanda mine.

And that best hour of musing thine.

Descending angels bless thy train,
The virtues of the sage, and swain;

Plain Innocence, in white array'd,
ODE.

Before thee lifts her fearless head :

Religion's beams around thee shine, O NIGHTINGALE, best poet of the grove,

And cheer thy glooms with light divinc: That plaintive strain can ne'er belong to thee,

About thee sports sweet Liberty; Blest in the full possession of thy love:

And rapt Urania sings to thee. O lend that strain, sweet nightingale, to me!

Oh, let me pierce thy secret cell !

And in thy deep recesses dwell ; 'Tis mine, alas ! to mourn my wretched fate :

Perhaps from Norwood's oak-clad hill, I love a maid who all my bosom charms,

When Meditation has her fill, Yet lose my days without this lovely mate;

I just may cast my careless eyes Inhuman Fortune keeps her from my arms.

Where London's spiry turrets rise,

Think of its crimes, its cares, its pain,
You, happy birds! by Nature's simple laws

Then shield me in the woods again.
Lead your soft lives, sustain'd by Nature's fare;
You dwell wherever roving fancy draws,
And love and song is all your pleasing care :

то THE
But we, vain slaves of interest and of pride,
Dare not be blest lest envious tongues should

REV. MR. MURDOCH, blame :

RECTOR OF STRADDISHALL, IN SUFFOLK, 1738.
And hence, in vain I languish for my bride ;
O mourn with me, sweet bird, my hapless flame. Thus safely low, my friend, thou canst not fall :

Here reigns a deep tranquillity o'er all;
No noise, no care, no vanity, no strife;

Men, woods, and fields, all breathe untroubled life,
HYMN ON SOLITUDE.

Then keep each passion down, however dear;

Trust me the tender are the most severe. HAIL, mildly pleasing Solitude,

Guard, while 'tis thine, thy philosophic ease, Companion of the wise and good,

And ask no joy but that of virtuous peace; But, from whose holy, piercing eye,

That bids defiance to the storms of Fate, The herd of fools and villains Hy.

High bliss is only for a higher state.

AMBROSE PHILIPS.

AMBROSE PHILIPS, a poet and miscellaneous valued, sent to the same paper a comparison bewriter, was born in 1671, claiming his descent from tween his and those of Philips, in which he an ancient Leicestershire family. He received his ironically gave the preference to the latter. The education at St. John's College, Cambridge; and, irony was not detected till it encountered the criattaching himself to the Whig party, he published, tical eye of Addison; and the consequence was, in 1700, an epitome of Hacket's life of Archbishop that it ruined the reputation of Philips as a comWilliams, by which he obtained an introduction to poser of pastoral. Addison and Steele. Soon after, he made an at- When the accession of George I. brought the tempt in pastoral poetry, which, for a time, brought Whigs again into power, Philips was made a Westhim into celebrity. In 1709, being then at Copen-minster justice, and, soon after, a commissioner for hagen, he addressed to the Earl of Dorset some the lottery. In 1718, be was the editor of a po verses, descriptive of that capital, which are re- riodical paper, called “ The Freethinker.” In garded as his best performance; and these, together | 1724, he accompanied to Ireland his friend with two translations from Sappho's writings, Dr. Boulter, created archbishop of Armagh, to stand pre-eminent in his works of this class. In whom he acted as secretary. He afterwards re1712 he made his appearance as a dramatic writer, I presented the county of Armagh in parliament ; in the tragedy of « The Distrest Mother," acted at and the places of secretary to the Lord Chancellor, Drury-lane with great applause, and still con- and Judge of the Prerogative Court, were also sidered as a stock play. It cannot, indeed, claim conferred upon him. He returned to England in the merit of originality, being closely copied from 1748, and died in the following year, at the age of Racine's “ Andromacque;" but it is well written, seventy-eight. and skilfully adapted to the English stage.

The verses which he composed, not only to A storm now fell upon him relatively to his young ladies in the nursery, but to Walpole when pastorals, owing to an exaggerated compliment | Minister of State, and which became known by the from Tickell, who, in a paper of the Guardian, had ludicrous appellation of namby-pamby, are easy and made the true pastoral pipe descend in succession sprightly, but with a kind of infantile air, whicha from Theocritus to Virgil, Spenser, and Philips. fixed upon them the above name. Pope, who found his own juvenile pastorals under

TO THE EARL OF DORSET.

| The starving wolves along the main sea prowl,
And to the Moon in icy valleys howl.

O'er many a shining league the level main
Copenhagen, March 9. 1709.

Here spreads itself into a glassy plain:
From frozen climes, and endless tracts of snow, There solid billows of enormous size,
From streams which northern winds forbid to flow, Alps of green ice, in wild disorder rise.
What present shall the Muse to Dorset bring, And yet but lately have I seen, ev'n here,
Or how, so near the Pole, attempt to sing ? | The winter in a lovely dress appear.
The hoary winter here conceals from sight

Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasur'd snow, All pleasing objects which to verse invite.

Or winds begun through hazy skies to blow, The hills and dales, and the delightful woods, At evening a keen eastern breeze arose, The flowery plains, and silver-streaming floods, And the descending rain unsullied froze. By snow disguis'd, in bright confusion lie,

Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew, And with one dazzling waste fatigue the eye. The ruddy morn disclos'd at once to view

No gentle breathing breeze prepares the spring, The face of Nature in a rich disguise, No birds within the desert region sing.

And brightend every object to my eyes : The ships, unmov'd, the boisterous winds defy, For every shrub, and every blade of grass, While rattling chariots o'er the ocean fly.

And every pointed thorn, seem'd wrought in glass; The vast Leviathan wants room to play,

In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show, And spout his waters in the face of day.

While through the ice the crimson berries glow.

The thick-sprung reeds, which watery marshes yield, The birds, dismiss'd, (while you remain,) Seem'd polish'd lances in a hostile field.

Bore back their empty car again : The stag, in limpid currents, with surprise,

Then you, with looks divinely mild, Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise.

In every heavenly feature smil'd,
The spreading oak, the beech, and towering pine, And ask'd, what new complaints I made,
Glaz'd over, in the freezing ether shine.

And why I call'd you to my aid ?
The frighted birds the rattling branches shun,
Which wave and glitter in the distant sun.

What phrenzy in my bosom rag'd,
When, if a sudden gust of wind arise,

And by what care to be assuag'd ? The brittle forest into atoms flies,

What gentle youth I would allure, The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends,

Whom in my artful toils secure ? And in a spangled shower the prospect ends :

Who does thy tender heart subdue,
Or, if a southern gale the region warm,

Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?
And by degrees unbind the wintery charm,
The traveller a miry country sees,

Though now he shuns thy longing arms, And journeys sad beneath the dropping trees :

He soon shall court thy slighted charms; Like some deluded peasant, Merlin leads (meads : Though now thy offerings he despise, Through fragrant bowers, and through delicious He soon to thee shall sacrifice; While here enchanted gardens to him rise,

Though now he freeze, he soon shall burn, And airy fabrics there attract his eyes,

And be thy victim in his turn.
His wandering feet the magic paths pursue,
And, while he thinks the fair illusion true,

Celestial visitant, once more
The trackless scenes disperse in fluid air,

Thy needful presence I implore ! And woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear.

In pity come and ease my grief, A tedious road the weary wretch returns,

Bring my distemper'd soul relief :
And, as he goes, the transient vision mourns.

Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart desires.

[blocks in formation]

WILLIAM COLLINS.

W ILLIAM COLLINS, a distinguished modern poet, , of disorder in his mind, perceptible to any but himwas born at Chichester, in 1720 or 1721, where his self. He was reading the New Testament. “I father exercised the trade of a hatter. He received have but one book," said he, “but it is the best." his education at Winchester College, whence he en- He was finally consigned to the care of his sister, in tered as a commoner of Queen's College, Oxford. whose arms he finished his short and melancholy In 1741, he procured his election into Magdalen course, in the year 1756. college as a demy; and it was here that he wrote It is from his Odes, that Collins derives his chief his poetical “ Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer,” | poetical fame ; and in compensation for the neglect and his “ Oriental Eclogues;" of both which with which they were treated at their first appearpieces the success was but moderate. In 1744, he ance, they are now almost universally regarded as came to London as a literary adventurer, and va the first productions of the kind in our language rious were the projects which he formed in this with respect to vigour of conception, boldness and capacity. In 1746, however, he ventured to lay variety of personification, and genuine warmth of before the public a volume of “ Odes, Descriptive feeling. They are well characterised in an essay and Allegorical ;” but so callous was the national prefixed to his works in an ornamented edition pubtaste at this time, that their sale did not pay for the lished by Cadell and Davies, with which we shall printing. Collins, whose spirit was high, returned conclude this article. “ He will be acknowledged to the bookseller his copy-money, burnt all the un- (says the author) to possess imagination, sweetness, sold copies, and as soon as it lay in his power, in- bold and figurative language. His numbers dwell demnified him for his small loss; yet among these' on the ear, and easily fix themselves in the memory. odes, were many pieces which now rank among the His vein of sentiment is by turns tender and lofty, finest lyric compositions in the language. After always tinged with a degree of melancholy, but not this mortification, he obtained from the booksellers possessing any claim to originality. His originality a small sum for an intended translation of Aristotle's consists in his manner, in the highly figuratire garb Poetics, and paid a visit to an uncle, Lieutenant-in which he clothes abstract ideas, in the felicity of colonel Martin, then with the army in Germany. his expressions, and his skill in embodying ideal The Colonel dying soon after, left Collins a legacy creations. He had much of the mysticism of poetry, of 2000., a sum which raised him to temporary and sometimes became obscure by aiming at imopulence; but he now soon became incapable of pressions stronger than he had clear and well-defined every mental exertion. Dreadful depression of ideas to support. Had his life been prolonged, and spirits was an occasional attendant on his malady, with life had he enjoyed that ease which is necessary for which he had no remedy but the bottle. It was for the undisturbed exercise of the faculties, he about this time, that it was thought proper to con- would probably have risen far above most of his fine him in a receptacle of lunatics. Dr. Johnson contemporaries.” paid him a visit at Islington, when there was nothing |

[blocks in formation]

Come, Pity, come, by Fancy's aid,
E'en now my thoughts, relenting maid;

Thy temple's pride design :
Its southern site, its truth complete,
Shall raise a wild enthusiast heat

In all who view the shrine.

Wrapt in thy cloudy veil th' incestuous queen +, ! Sigb'd the sad call her son and husband heard, When once alone it broke the silent scene,

And he the wretch of Thebes no more appear'd.

O Fear! I know thee by my throbbing heart,

Thy withering power inspir'd each mournful line; Though gentle Pity claim her mingled part,

Yet all the thunders of the scene are thine.

There Picture's toil shall well relate,
How Chance, or hard involving Fate,

O'er mortal bliss prevail :
The buskin'd Muse shall near her stand,
And, sighing, prompt her tender hand

With each disastrous tale.

ANTISTROPHE.

There let me oft, retir'd by day,
In dreams of passion melt away,

Allow'd with thee to dwell :
There waste the mournful lamp of night,
Till, Virgin, thou again delight

To hear a British shell !

ODE TO FEAR.

Thou who such weary lengths hast past, Where wilt thou rest, mad nymph, at last? Say, wilt thou shroud in haunted cell, Where gloomy Rape and Murder dwell ? Or in some hollow'd seat, 'Gainst which the big waves beat, Hear drowning seamen's cries in tempests brought ! Dark power, with shuddering meek submitted

thought,
Be mine, to read the visions old,
Which thy awakening bards have told.

And, lest thou meet my blasted view,
Hold each strange tale devoutly true;
Ne'er be I found, by thee o'er-aw'd,
In that thrice-hallow'd eve abroad,
When ghosts, as cottage-maids believe,
Their pebbled beds permitted leave,
And goblins haunt from fire, or fen,
Or mine, or flood, the walks of men !

O thou, whose spirit most possest
The sacred seat of Shakspeare's breast !
| By all that from thy prophet broke,
| In thy divine emotions spoke!
Hither again thy fury deal,
Teach me but once like him to feel :
His cypress wreath my meed decree,
And I, o Fear, will dwell with thee !

Thou, to whom the world unknown With all its shadowy shapes is shown; Who seest appallid th' unreal scene, While Fancy lifts the veil between :

Ah, Fear! ah, frantic Fear!

I see, I see thee near. I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye! Like thee I start, like thee disorder'd fly. For, lo, what monsters in thy train appear! Danger, whose limbs of giant mould What mortal eye can fixt behold ? Who stalks his round, a hideous form, Howling amidst the midnight storm, Or throws him on the ridgy steep Of some loose hanging rock to sleep : And with him thousand phantoms join'd, Who prompt to deeds accurs'd the mind : And those, the fiends, who, near allied, O'er Nature's wounds and wrecks preside; While Vengeance, in the lurid air, Lifts her red arm, expos'd and bare : On whom that ravening brood of Fate, Who lap the blood of Sorrow, wait; Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see, And look not madly wild, like thee?

ODE.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1746. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest!' When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod, Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]
« AnteriorContinuar »