And guide the wakeful Helms-man's eye And there upon the rock inclin'd With mighty visions fill'st the mind, Such as bound in magic spell Him* who grasp'd the gates of Hell, Held to the day the Terrors of his reign. Genius of Horror and romantic awe, Whose eye explores the secrets of the deep, Whose power can bid the rebel fluids creep, Can force the inmost soul to own its law; Who shall now, sublimest spirit, Who shall now thy wand inherit, From him thy darling child who best Thy shuddering images exprest? Sullen of soul and stern and proud, His gloomy spirit spurn'd the croud, And now he lays his aching head In the dark mansion of the silent dead. Mighty Magician! long thy wand has lain Fuesslin waves thy wand,-again they rise, Again thy wildering forms salute our ravish'd eyes. Him didst thou cradle on the dizzy steep Where round his head the volley'd light'nings flung, And the loud winds that round his pillow rung Wooed the stern infant to the arms of sleep. Or on the highest top of Teneriffe, Seated the fearless Boy, and bade him look Where far below the weather-beaten skiff On the gulph bottom of the ocean strook. Thou mark'dst him drink with ruthless ear The death-sob, and disdaining rest, Thou saw'st how danger fir'd his breast, And in his young hand couch'd the visionary spear. She bore the boy to Odin's Hall, The savage feast and spectred fight; And summon'd from his mountain tomb His fabled runic rhymes to sing While fierce Hresvelger flapp'd his wing; Which on the mists of evening gleam There pity's lute arrests his ear, Where sleeps the silent beam of night, Taste lastly comes and smooths the whole, The Poet dreams: -The shadow flies, And fainting fast its image dies. But lo! the Painter's magic force And as he sees the shadow rise, Sublime before his wandering eyes, Starts at the image his own mind conceiv'd. ODE, ADDRESSED TO THE EARL OF CARLISLE, K.G. RETIRED, remote from human noise, A humble Poet dwelt serene, His lot was lowly, yet his joys Were manifold I ween. He laid him by the brawling brook At eventide to ruminate, He watched the swallow swimming round, And mused, in reverie profound, On wayward man's unhappy state, And pondered much, and paused on deeds of antient date. II. 1. Oh, 'twas not always thus," he cried, But now to wealth alone we bow, The titled, and the rich alone, Are honoured, while meek merit pines, Unheeded in his dying moan, As overwhelmed with want and woe, he sinks unknown. III. 1. Yet was the muse not always seen In poverty's dejected mien, Not always did repining rue, And misery her steps pursue, Time was, when nobles thought their titles graced, When Sidney sung his melting song, When Sheffield joined the harmonious throng, Those days are gone-alas, for ever gone! Their brows with anadems, by genius won, How differently thought the sires of this degenerate race!" I. 2. Thus sang the minstrel :-still at eve And still his shame was aye the same, Neglect had stung him to the core; And muse on all his sorrows o'er, And vow that he would join the abjured world no more. II. 2. But human vows, how frail they be! Fame brought Carlisle unto his view, And all amaz'd, he thought to see The Augustan age anew. |