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The Pleasures of Memory.
IN TWO PARTS.
On could my mind, unfolded in my page, regularity. They are sometimes excited by sensible Enlighten climes and mould a future age;
objects, and sometimes by an internal operation of the There as it glow'd, with noblest frenzy fraught, mind. Of the former species is most probably the memDispense the treasures of exalted thought; ory of brutes; and its many sources of pleasure to them, To Virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
as well as to us, are considered in the first part. The And bid the tear of emulation start!
latter is the most perfect degree of memory, and forms Oh could it still, through each succeeding year, the subject of the second. My life, my manners, and my name endear; When ideas have any relation whatever, they are atAnd, when the poet sleeps in silent dust,
tractive of each other in the mind; and the perception Still hold communion with the wise and just ! of any object naturally leads to the idea of another, Yet should this Verse, my leisure's best resource, which was connected with it either in time or place, or When through the world it steals its secret course, which can be compared or contrasted with it. Hence Revive but once a generous wish supprest, arises our attachment to inanimale objects; hence also, Chase but a sigh, or charm a care to rest;
in some degree, the love of our country, and the emoIn one good deed a fleeting hour employ,
tion with which we contemplate the celebrated scenes Or flush one faded cheek with honest joy;
of antiquity. Hence a picture directs our thoughts to Blest were my lines, though limited their sphere, the original: and, as cold and darkness suggest forcibly Though short their date, as his who traced them here. the ideas of heat and light, he, who feels the infirmities
1793. of age, dwells most on whatever reminds him of the
vigor and vivacity of his youth.
The associating principle, as here employed, is no less PART I.
conducive to virtue than to happiness; and, as such,
it frequently discovers itself in the most tumultuous Dolce sentier,
scenes of life. It addresses our finer feelings, and gives Colle, che mi piacesti,
exercise to every mild and generous propensity. Ov' ancor per usanza Amor mi mena; Ben riconosco in voi l' usate forme,
Not confined to man, it extends through all animated Non, lasso, in me.
nature; and its effects are peculiarly striking in the Petrarch.
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green, THE Poern begins with the description of an obscure With magic tints to harmonize the scene : village, and of the pleasing melancholy which it excites Stillid is the hum that through the hamlet broke, on being revisited after a long absence. This mixed When round the ruins of their ancient oak sensation is an effect of the memory. From an effect The peasants flock'd to hear the minstrel play, we naturally ascend to the cause ; and the subject And games and carols closed the busy day. proposed is then unfolded, with an investigation of Her wheel at rest, the matron thrills no more the nature and leading principles of this faculty. With treasured talcs, and legendary lore.
It is evident that our ideas flow in continual succes- All, all are fled; nor mirth nor music flows, sion, and introduce each other with a certain degree of To chase the dreams of innocent repose.
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15:28. at every sep, to claim a tear, (1)
brown by yon hazel copse, at evening, blazed fint will be wa wa wawe tue wind, The Girmey's fagot—there we stood and gazed ;
Gazed on her sun-burnt face with silent awe,
Her tatter'd mantle, and her hood of straw; with water is in Himme the lowly lower; Her moving lips, her caldron brimming o'er;
The drowny brood that on her back she bore, Awww cultium lamele smiling in its sleep. Impm in the barn with mousing owlet bred,
Willia! wwe wardian eye From rilled roost at nightly revel fed ; (shade, Mbuhan that, ore moiton'll on highi Whose durk eyes flash'd through locks of blackest
When in the breeze the distant watch-dog bay'd :-
Whose oltin prowess scaled the orchard-wall. to it wahve the feelings at a friend, An o'er my palm the silver piece she drew, t'has de 40 anni all foud delight,
Ind traced the line of life with searching view, With what a britent harm the wilderd sight; How throbbid my fluttering pulse with hopes and
fears, 14 Chatian dan di tha femme rol To learu the color of my future years! he has to unlock the rules chart
Ah, then, what honest triumph flush d my breast; ther than will Malmla ile mal to the heart i This truth once know-To bless is to be blest!
A la MTU a huon to hear le led the bending beggar on his way, li hilo limetoa uho 4 full pleasure wara Rare were his teet, his tresses silver-grey) 44 ila ada pula akan memple chisu
www.thed the keen pangs bis aged spirit telt in lan barang dari leithund der Wii Pruun! And on his law with mule attentun dwelt. What 4464 opa bowlad, med hedde sarbide un rought, is it bis serip ne drupt our initie store. Il to ti thuochi cartouches de las me thought to wgh'd to thuk that lie was no more, live!"
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The glow-worm loves her emerald light to shed, Long o'er the wave a wistful look he cast, Where now the sexton rests his hoary head. Long watch'd the streaming signal from the mast; Dit ss be turn'd the greensward with his spade, Till twilight's dewy tints deceived his eye, Ee lectured every youth that round him play'd ; And fairy-forests fringed the evening sky. Aad, calmly pointing where our fathers lay,
So Scotia's Queen, (5) as slowly dawn'd the day, ased us to rival each, the hero of his day. Rose on her couch, and gazed her soul away.
Hush, ye fond flutterings, hush! while here alone Her eyes had bless'd the beacon's glimmering height I search the records of each mouldering stone. That faintly tipt the feathery surge with light; Guides of my life! instructors of my youth! But now the morn with orient hues portray'd Wo first unveild the hallow'd form of Truth; Each castled cliff, and brown monastic shade: Whose every word enlighten'd and endear'd; All touch'd the talisman's resistless spring, la age beloved, in poverty revered ;
And lo, what busy tribes were instant on the wing! Es Friendship's silent register ye live,
Thus kindred objects kindred thoughts inspire, (6) a ssk the vain memorial Art can give.
As summer-clouds flash forth electric fire. -But when the sons of peace, of pleasure sleep, And hence this spot gives back the joys of youth, When only Sorrow wakes, and wakes to weep, Warm as the life, and with the mirror's truth. What spells entrance my visionary mind
Hence home-felt pleasure (7) prompts the Patriot's With aglis so sweet, with transports so refined !
For this young Foscari, (8) whose hapless fate
When reason, justice, vainly urged his cause,
Glad to return, though Hope could grant no more, Lalid in the countless chambers of the brain, And chains and torture hail'd him to the shore. Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain. And hence the charm historic scenes impart : (9) Arate but one, and lo, what myriads rise! (2) Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart. Each stamps its image as the other flies!
Aërial forms in Tempe's classic vale Lach, as the various avenues of sense
Glance through the gloom, and whisper in the gale; Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense,
In wild Vaucluse with love and Laura dwell, Enghters or fades; yet all, with magic art, And watch and weep in Eloisa's cell. (10) Control the latent fibres of the heart.
'T was ever thus. As now at Virgil's tomb (11) As studious PROSPERO's mysterious spell
We bless the shade, and bid the verdure bloom : Drew every subject-spirit to his cell;
So Tully paused, amid the wrecks of Time, (12) Each, at thy call, advances or retires,
On the rude stone to trace the truth sublime;
When at his feet, in honor'd dust disclosed,
Where once a Plato taught, a Pindar sung;
Who now but meets him musing, when he roves Survey the globe, each ruder realm explore ; His ruir'd Tusculan's romantic groves ? Fra Reason's faintest ray to Newton soar. In Rome's great forum, who but hears him roll What ditierent spheres to human bliss assign'd! His moral thunders o'er the subject soul? What slow gradations in the scale of mind !
And hence that calm delight the portrait gives :
The adventurous boy, that asks his little share, And the lost friend still lingers in his shade!
Tremblingly still, she lists his veil to trace
Forgets his age, and acts again the boy.
What though the iron school of War erase
What though the fiend's torpedo-touch arrest
Condemn'd to climb his mountain-cliffs no more, And all his soul best loved—such tears he shed, If chance he hears the song so sweetly wild (14) Wmle each soft scene of summer-beauty fled. Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguiled,
Melts at the long-lost scenes that round him rise, Want with her babes round generous Valor clung, And unks a martyr to repentant sighs.
To wring the slow surrender from his tongue, Ask not if courts or camps dissolve the charm: 'T was thine to animate her closing eye; Say why Vespasian loved his Sabine farm ; (15) Alas! 't was thine perchance the first to die, Why great Navarre, (16) when France and freedom Crush'd by her meagre hand, when welcomed from bled,
the sky. Sought the lone limits of a forest-shed.
Hark! the bee (21) winds her small but mellow When Diocletian's sell.corrected mind (17)
horn, The imperial tastes of a world resign'd,
Blithe to salute the sunny smile of morn.
And many a stream allures her to its source.
Its orb so full, its vision so confined ! "The stall recruits that suothed his tranquil breast Who guides the patient pilgrim to her cell ! Are grandeur dawled, and its cares oppressid. Who bids her soul with conscious triumph swell!
l'inlamp d by time the grnenus Instinct glows With conscious truth retrace the mazy clue her as Angula's stints as Zembla's snons; of vaned scents, that charmd her as she few! Glons in the river's den, the serpent's mest Hail, MEMORT, hail! thy univenl reign Cherry a dvanced he imprese
Guaris the least link of Being's glorious chain The stai tries is concret intiuence hail And when the drum beats briskly in the gale, The ** annor canys si the sound, Awal mer pengaw's the pastur rund.
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