Page images
PDF
EPUB

Admiring Plato, on his spotless page, Stamps the bright dictates of the Father sage: "Shall Nature bound to earth's diurnal span The fire of God, th' immortal soul of man ?" "Turn, child of Heav'n! thy rapture-lighten'd eye To Wisdom's walks, the sacred Nine are nigh! Hark! from bright spires that gild the Delphian height,

From streams that wander in eternal light,

Rang'd on their hill, Harmonia's daughters swell The mingling tones of horn, and harp, and shell: Deep from his vaults, the Loxian murmurs flow,(e) And Pythia's awful organ peals below.

"Belov'd of Heav'n! the smiling Muse shall shed Her moonlight halo on thy beauteous head; Shall swell thy heart to rapture unconfin'd, And breathe a holy madness o'er thy mind. I see thee roam, her guardian pow'r beneath, And talk with spirits on the midnight heath; Inquire of guilty wand'rers whence they came, And ask each blood-stain'd form his earthly name; Then weave, in rapid verse the deeds they tell, And read the trembling world the tales of hell. "When Venus, thron'd in clouds of rosy hue, Flings from her golden urn the vesper dew, And bids fond man her glimmering noon employ, Sacred to love, and walks of tender joy; A milder mood the goddess shall recal, And soft as dew thy tones of music fall; While Beauty's deeply-pictur'd smiles impart A pang more dear than pleasure to the heart; Warm as thy sighs shall flow the Lesbian strain, And plead in Beauty's ear, nor plead in vain.

Or wilt thou Orphean hymns more sacred deem, And steep thy song in Mercy's mellow stream; To pensive drops the radiant eye beguile For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile ;On Nature's throbbing anguish pour relief, And teach impassion'd souls the joy of grief?

"Yes-to thy tongue shall seraph words be giv'n,
And pow'r on earth to plead the cause of Heav'n';
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone,
That never mus'd on sorrow but its own,
Unlocks a generous store at thy command,
Like Horeb's rocks beneath the prophet's hand.(ƒ)
The living lumber of his kindred earth,
Charm'd into soul, receives a second birth;
Feels thy dread pow'r another heart afford,
Whose passion-touch'd harmonious strings accord,
True as the circling spheres, to Nature's plan;
And man, the brother, lives the friend of man!
"Bright as the pillar rose at Heav'n's command,
When Israel march'd along the desert land,
Blaz'd through the night on lonely wilds afar,
And told the path, a never-setting star:
So, Heav'nly Genius, in thy course divine,
Hope is thy star, her light is ever thine."

Propitious Pow'r! when rankling cares annoy
The sacred home of Hymenean joy;
When doom'd to Poverty's sequester'd dell,
The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell,
Unpitied by the world, unknown to fame,

Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same-
Oh! there, prophetic Hope! thy smile bestow,
And chase the pangs that worth should never know;
There, as the parent deals his scanty store
To friendless babes, and weeps to give no more,
Tell, that his manly race shall yet assuage
Their father's wrongs, and shield his latter age.
What though for him no Hybla sweets distil,
Nor bloomy vines wave purple on the hill;
Tell, that when silent years have pass'd away,
That when his eyes grow dim, his tresses grey,
These busy hands a lovelier cot shall build,
And deck with fairer flowers his little field,
And call from Heav'n propitious dews to breathe
Arcadian beauty on the barren heath;

Tell, that while Love's spontaneous smile endears
The days of peace, the sabbath of his years,

Health shall prolong to many a festive hour
The social pleasures of his humble bower.

Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps,
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her slumb'ring child with pensive eyes,
And weaves a song of melancholy joy-
"Sleep, image of thy father! sleep, my boy:
No ling'ring hour of sorrow shall be thine;
No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine;
Bright as his manly sire, the son shall be

In form and soul-but ah! more blest than he!
Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last
Shall soothe this aching heart for all the past-
With many a smile my solitude repay,
And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away.

"And say, when summon'd from the world and thee, I lay my head beneath the willow tree,

Wilt thou, sweet mourner! at my stone appear,
And sooth my parted spirit ling'ring near?
Oh! wilt thou come, at ev'ning hour, to shed
The tears of memory o'er my narrow bed;
With aching temples on thy hand reclin❜d,
Muse on the last farewell I leave behind,
Breathe a deep sigh to winds that murmur low,
And think on all my love, and all my wo ?"
So speaks affection, ere the infant eye

Can look regard, or brighten in reply;
But when the cherub lip hath learned to claim
A mother's ear by that endearing name;
Soon as the playful innocent can prove
A tear of pity, or a smile of love,

Or cons his murm'ring task beneath her care,.
Or lisps with holy look his ev'ning prayer,
Or gazing, mutely pensive, sits to hear
The mournful ballad warbled in his ear;
How fondly looks admiring Hope the while,
At every artless tear, and every smile!
How glows the joyous parent to descry
A guileless bosom, true to sympathy!.
A. 3.

Where is the troubled heart, consign'd to share
Tumultuous toils, or solitary care,
Unblest by visionary thoughts, that stray
To count the joys of Fortune's better day?
Lo, nature, life, and liberty relume

The dim-ey'd tenant of the dungeon gloom,
A long lost friend, or hapless child restor❜d,
Smiles at his blazing hearth and social board;
Warm from his heart the tears of rapture flow,
And virtue triumphs o'er remember'd wo.

Chide not his peace, proud Reason! nor destroy
The shadowy forms of uncreated joy,

That urge the ling'ring tide of life, and pour
Spontaneous slumber on the midnight hour.
Hark! the wild maniac sings, to chide the gale
That wafts so slow her lover's distant sail ;
She, sad spectatress, on the wintry shore

Watch'd the rude surge his shroudless corse that bore,
Knew the pale form, and, shrieking in amaze,
Clasp'd her cold hands, and fix'd her maddening gaze:
Poor widow'd wretch! 'twas there she wept in vain,
Till memory fled her agonizing brain :--
But Mercy gave, to charm the sense of wo,
Ideal peace, that Truth could ne'er bestow;
Warm on her heart the joys of Fancy beam,
And aimless Hope delights her darkest dream.
Oft when yon moon has climb'd the midnight sky,
And the lone sea-bird wakes its wildest cry,
Pil'd on the steep, her blazing faggots burn,
To hail the bark that never can return;
And still she waits, but scarce forbears to weep
That constant love can linger on the deep.

And, mark the wretch, whose wand'rings never knew
The world's regard, that sooths, though half untrue;
Whose erring heart the lash of sorrow bore,
But found not pity when it err'd no more!
Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye
Th' unfeeling proud one looks--and passes by;
Condemn'd on Penury's barren path to roam,
Scorn'd by the world, and left without a home-

Even he, at evening, should he chance to stray Down by the hamlet's hawthorn-scented way, Where, round the cot's romantic glade are seen The blossom'd bean-field, and the sloping green, Leans o'er its humble gate, and thinks the while "Oh! that for me some home like this would smile,

Some hamlet shade, to yield my sickly form

Health in the breeze, and shelter in the storm!
There should my hand no stinted boon assign
To wretched hearts with sorrows such as mine !"
That generous wish can sooth unpitied care,
And Hope half mingles with the poor man's prayer.
Hope! when I mourn, with sympathizing mind,
The wrongs of fate, the woes of human kind,
Thy blissful omens bid my spirit see

The boundless fields of rapture yet to be;
I watch the wheels of Nature's mazy plan,
And learn the future, by the past, of man.

Come, bright Improvement! on the car of Time,
And rule the spacious world from clime to clime;
Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore,
Trace every wave, and culture every shore.
On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along,
And the dread Indian chaunts a dismal song,
Where human fiends on midnight errands walk,
And bathe in brains the murd'rous tomahawk;
There shall the flocks on thymy pasture stray,
And shepherds dance at Summer's op'ning day!
Each wand'ring genius of the lonely glen

Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men,
And Silence watch, on woodland heights around,
The village curfew, as it tolls profound..

In Lybian groves, where damned rites are done, That bathe the rocks in blood, and veil the sun, Truth shall arrest the murd'rous arm profane, Wild Obi flies(g)-the veil is rent in twain.

Where barb'rous hordes on Scythian mountains roam,

Truth, Mercy, Freedom, yet shall find a home;

« PreviousContinue »