ANALYSIS

OF THE FIRST PART.

THE Poem opens with a comparison between the beauty of remote objects in a landscape, and those ideal scenes of felicity which the imagination delights to contemplate-The influence of anticipation upon the other passions is next delineated An allusion is made to the well known fiction in Pagan tradition, that, when all the guardian Deities of mankind abandoned the world, Hope alone was left behind The consolations of this passion in situations of danger and distress seaman on his midnight watch- The soldier marching Allusion to the interesting adventures of

into battle

Byron.

The

The inspiration of Hope as it actuates the efforts of genius, whether in the department of science, or of taste Domestic felicity, how intimately connected with views of future happinessPicture of a mother watching her infant when asleep Pictures of the prisoner, the maniac, and the wanderer.

From the consolations of individual misery a transition is made to prospects of political improvement in the future state of society. The wide field that is yet open for the progress of humanizing arts among uncivilized nations-From these views of the amelioration of society, and the extension of liberty and truth over despotic and barbarous countries, by a melancholy contrast of ideas, we are led to reflect upon the hard fate of a brave people recently conspicuous in their struggles for independence Description of the capture of Warsaw,

of the last contest of the oppressors and the oppressed, and the massacre of the Polish Patriots at the Bridge of Prague Apostrophe to the self - interested enemies of human improvement - The wrongs of Africa ProThe barbarous policy of Europeans in India phecy in the Hindoo mythology of the expected descent of the Deity to redress the miseries of their race, and to take vengeance on the violators of Justice and Mercy.

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THE

PLEASURES OF HOPE.

PART I.

Ar

summer eve, when Heav'n's aerial bow Spans with bright arch the glittʼring hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky! Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near'Tis Distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

Thus, with delight, we linger to survey
The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way;
Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath been;
And ev'ry form, that fancy can repair
From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.
What potent spirit guides the raptur❜d eye
To pierce the shades of dim futurity!

Can Wisdom lend, with all her heav'nly pow'r,
The pledge of Joy's anticipated hour!
Ah! no, she darkly sees the fate of man
Her dim horizon bounded to a span;
Or, if she hold an image to the view,
'Tis nature pictur'd too severely true.

With thee, sweet Hope! resides the heav'nly light That pours remotest rapture on the sight:

Thine is the charm of life's bewilder'd way
That calls each slumb'ring passion into play:
Wak'd by thy touch, I see the sister band,
On tiptoe watching, start at thy command,
And Hy where'er thy mandate bids them steer,
To Pleasure's path, or Glory's bright career.
Primeval Hope, th' Aonian Muses say,
When Man and Nature mourn'd their first decay;
When ev'ry form of death, and ev'ry woe,
Shot from malignant stars to earth below;
When Murder Bar'd his arm, and rampant War
Yok'd the red dragons of her iron car;

When Peace and Mercy, banish'd from the plain,
Sprung on the viewless winds to Heav'n again;
All, all forsook the friendless guilty mind,
But Hope, the charmer, linger'd still behind.

Thus, while Elijah's burning wheels prepare,
From Carmel's height to sweep the fields of air,
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropp'd on the world-a sacred gift to man.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil, a charm for ev'ry woe: Won by their sweets, in Nature's languid hour, The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bow'r; There, as the wild--bee murmurs on the wing, What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring! What viewless forms th' Æolian organ play, [away! And sweep the furrow'd lines of anxious thought Angel of life! thy glitt'ring wings explore Earth's loneliest bounds, and Ocean's wildest shore. Lo to the wint'ry winds the pilot yields His bark careering o'er unfathom'd fields;

Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar,
Where Andes, giant of the western star,

With meteor standard to the winds unfurl'd,
Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world.
Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles,
On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles;
Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow,
From wastes that slumber in eternal snow;
And waft, across the waves' tumultuous roar,
The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore.
Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm,
Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form!
Rocks, waves, and winds the shatter'd bark delay;
Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.

But Hope can here her moonlight vigils keep,
And sing to charm the spirit of the deep:
Swift as yon streamer lights the starry pole,
Her visions warm the watchman's pensive soul:
His native hills that rise in happier climes,
The grot that heard his song of other times,
His cottage-home, his bark of slender sail,
His glassy lake, and broomwood-blossom'd vale,
Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind;
Treads the lov'd shore he sigh'd to leave behind;
Meets at each step a friend's familiar face,
And flies at last to Helen's long embrace;
Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear,
And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear!
While, long neglected, but at length caress'd,
His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest;
Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam)
His wistful face, and whines a welcome home,