The guardians of mankind; Whose bosoms with these virtues heave, Oh, with what matchless speed, they leave The multitude behind!
Then ask ye, from what cause on earth Virtues like these derive their birth? Deriv'd from Heaven alone, Full on that favour'd breast they shine, Where faith and resignation join To call the blessing down.
Such is that heart;-but while the Muse Thy theme, O Richardson, pursues,
Her feebler spirits faint:
She cannot reach, and would not wrong, That subject for an angel's song,
The hero, and the saint!
IN A LETTER TO C. P. ESQ.
GRANT me the Muse, ye gods! whose humble flight Seeks not the mountain-top's pernicious height; Who can the tall Parnassian cliff forsake,
To visit oft the still Lethean lake;
Now her slow pinions brush the silent shore, Now gently skim the unwrinkled waters o'er, There dips her downy plumes, thence upward flies, And sheds soft slumbers on her votary's eyes.
IN IMITATION OF SHAKESPEARE.
TRUST me the meed of praise, dealt thriftily From the nice scale of judgement, honours more Than does the lavish and o'erbearing tide Of profuse courtesy. Not all the gems Of India's richest soil at random spread O'er the gay vesture of some glittering dame, Give such alluring vantage to the person, As the scant lustre of a few, with choice And comely guise of ornament disposed.
To Babylon's proud waters brought, In bondage where we lay,
With tears on Sion's Hill we thought, And sigh'd our hours away; Neglected on the willows hung
Our useless harps, while every tongue
Bewail'd the fatal day.
Then did the base insulting foe
Some joyous notes demand,
Such as in Sion used to flow
From Judah's happy band: Alas! what joyous notes have we, Our country spoil'd, no longer free, And in a foreign land!
O Solyma! if e'er thy praise Be silent in my song,
Rude and unpleasing be the lays, And artless be my tongue!
Thy name my fancy still employs ; To thee, great fountain of my joys, My sweetest airs belong.
Remember, Lord! that hostile sound, When Edom's children cried, "Razed be her turrets to the ground, And humbled be her pride!" Remember, Lord! and let the foe The terrors of thy vengeance know, The vengeance they defied!
Thou too, great Babylon, shalt fall A victim to our God; Thy monstrous crimes already call For Heaven's chastising rod. Happy who shall thy little ones Relentless dash against the stones, And spread their limbs abroad.
No more shall hapless Celia's ears Be flatter'd with the cries
Of lovers drown'd in floods of tears,
Or murder'd by her eyes;
No serenades to break her rest,
Nor songs her slumbers to molest,
With my fa, la, la.
The fragrant flowers that once would bloom
And flourish in her hair,
Since she no longer breathes perfume
Their odours to repair,
Must fade, alas! and wither now,
As placed on any common brow,
With my fa, la, la.
Her lip, so winning and so meek, No longer has its charms;
As well she might by whistling seek To lure us to her arms;
Affected once, 'tis real now,
As her forsaken gums may show,
With my fa, la, la.
The down that on her chin so smooth
So lovely once appear'd,
That, too, has left her with her youth, Or sprouts into a beard;
As fields, so green when newly sown, With stubble stiff are overgrown,
With my fa, la, la.
Then, Celia, leave your apish tricks, And change your girlish airs, For ombre, snuff, and politics, Those joys that suit your years; No patches can lost youth recall, Nor whitewash prop a tumbling wall,
AN ATTEMPT AT THE MANNER OF WALLER.
DID not thy reason and thy sense, With most persuasive eloquence, Convince me that obedience due None may so justly claim as you, By right of beauty you would be Mistress o'er my heart and me.
Then fear not I should e'er rebel, My gentle love! I might as well A forward peevishness put on, And quarrel with the mid-day sun; Or question who gave him a right To be so fiery and so bright.
Nay, this were less absurd and vain Than disobedience to thy reign; His beams are often too severe; But thou art mild, as thou art fair;
First from necessity we own your sway, Then scorn our freedom, and by choice obey.
THE sparkling eye, the mantling cheek, The polish'd front, the snowy neck,
How seldom we behold in one! Glossy locks, and brow serene, Venus' smiles, Diana's mien,
All meet in you, and you alone.
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