« PreviousContinue »
natch half a glimpse at Concert, Opera, Ball,
Last the grey Dowager, in ancient flounces,
and ridicule of Goth and Vandal,
Thus Woman makes her entrance and her exit; Not least an actress when she least suspects it. Yet Nature oft peeps out and mars the plot, Each lesson lost, each poor pretence forgot; Full oft
, with energy that scorns controul, At once lights up the features of the soul ; Unlocks each thought chained down by coward Art, And to full day the latent passions start! -And she, whose first, best wish is your applause, Herself exemplifies the truth she draws.
Born on the stage—thro' every shifting scene,
SLEEP on, and dream of Heaven awhile.
move, and breathe delicious sighs !
Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks,
She starts, she trembles, and she weeps !
Sleep on secure! Above controul,
From Delphi's venerable shade ?
Her figure swells ! she foams, she raves !
Streams of rapture roll along,
Silver notes ascend the skies :
Oh catch it, ere it dies !
Breathing a prophetic flame.
Even whisper to the idle air ;
• Æn. VI. 46, &c.
Shivered by thy piercing glance,
Pointless falls the hero's lance.
every pause dread Silence hovers o'er: While murky Night sails round on raven-wing, Deepening the tempest's howl, the torrent's roar;
Chased by the Morn from Snowdon's awful brow, Where late she sate and scowled on the black wave below.
Lo, steel-clad War his gorgeous standard rears !
The red-cross squadrons madly rage,
And mow thro' infancy and age;
Veiling from the eye of day,
Penance dreams her life away ; In cloistered solitude she sits and sighs, While from each shrine still, small responses rise.
* See Tacitus, l. xiv. c. 29. + This remarkable event happened at the siege and sack of Jerusalem in the last year
of the eleventh century. Matth. Paris, IV 2.