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...the barbarous policy of. Europeans in India prophecy 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. THE PLEASURES OF HOPE. Part I. AT Summer eve, when Heaven's aerial bow Can Wisdom lend, with all her heav'nly pow'r, Ah, no! she darkly seès the fate of man- 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, When Peace and Mercy, banish'd from the plain, Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow And sweep the furrow'd lines of anxious thought away! His bark, careering o'er unfathom'd felds; Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar, Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world. And waft, across the wave's tumultuous roar, Poor child of danger! nursling of the storm, 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. Friend of the brave! in peril's darkest hour, Intrepid virtue looks to thee for power; To thee the heart its trembling homage yields, On stormy floods, and carnage-cover'd fields, When front to front the banner'd hosts combine, Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line. When all is still on Death's devoted soil, The march-worn soldier mingles for the toil; As rings his glitt'ring tube, he lifts on high The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye, Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come, And hears thy stormy music in the drum! And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore The hardy Byron to his native shore; (a) In horrid climes, where Chiloe's tempests sweep Tumultuous murmurs o'er the troubled deep, 'Twas his to mourn Misfortune's rudest shock, Congenial Hope! thy passion-kindling power, "Go, child of Heav'n; (thy winged words proclaim) 'Tis thine to search the boundless fields of fame! Lo! Newton, priest of Nature, shines afar, Scans the wide world, and numbers every star! Wilt thou, with him, mysterious rites apply, And watch the shrine with wonder-beaming eye? Yes, thou shalt mark, with magic art profound, The speed of light, the circling march of sound; With Franklin grasp the lightning's fiery wing, Or yield the lyre of Heav'n another string.(c) "The Swedish sage admires, in yonder bowers, (d) His winged insects, and his rosy flowers; Calls from their woodland haunts the savage train With sounding horn, and counts them on the plainSo once at Heav'n's command, the wand'rers came To Eden's shade, and heard their various name. "Far from the world, is yon sequester'd clime, Slow pass the sons of Wisdom, more sublime; Calm as the fields of Heav'n, his sapient eye The loy'd Athenian lifts to realms on high, |